34713 éléments (3171 non lus) dans 75 canaux
First, it was Filthy Housewives ($3.89). Then for fun, we did Holiday Kink ($2.99). And on March 20th, the third anthology in our series will go on sale! Bisexual Husbands ($3.89) is now available for pre-order on Amazon. The authors and I are so excited!
We’ve been working really hard on this series, starting at the and of last year, when we realized we’d been mistreated by our mainstream publisher and decided we wanted to give the positive, creative energy we had given away to them back to ourselves instead. (All sales go to the writers; buy our ebooks direct Digita Publications and we get a little bit more.) The support of readers, fellow authors and editors and the whole erotica community has been amazing! I hope our creative work makes you feel as good as you’ve made us feel with your support.
To tempt you, I thought it would be great to share my introduction from Bisexual Husbands, “Bisexual and Voracious,” which is below (and includes excerpts from a few of the stories). Enjoy!
Bisexual Husbands
Introduction: “Bisexual and Voracious”
By Violet Blue
When 1950s heartthrob and actor James Dean was asked about his sexual orientation, his response stunned nearly everyone who believed the star was firmly straight, or secretly gay. “I’m not homosexual,” he said. “But I’m also not going to go through life with one hand tied behind my back.”
One of the men Dean was reportedly in a sexual relationship with for several years, one rumored to be tempestuous and tumultuous, was Marlon Brando. Imagining these two icons of 1950s manhood together may sound like slash fiction, a fantasy. Yet author Darwin Porter reported in the Sunday Times of London in 2006, “Marlon Brando was bisexual and voracious. The roles he lived off-screen were even more provocative than those he created in films.”
Almost as soon as I pulled my dress back down, the doorbell rang. I reached for my panties. Ryan stood and headed to answer. “Wait!” I said. “I don’t care what you guys do — but I want to watch. Do you understand?”
He nodded and hurried to the door. He clearly didn’t want to leave Frankie waiting on our stoop even for an extra moment.
I crossed my legs and sat up straight. This was a first for me. My husband was about to have his ass taken by another man. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was supposed to behave. There’s no manners guide for experiences like this one. Maybe there should be.
Ryan and Frankie came into the living room. Frankie looked as excited as I felt. He gave me a sheepish grin. I think that’s because he knew I knew he’d been fondling Ryan behind my back. Well, now he had the chance to redeem himself. He had the chance to fondle my husband right in front of me.
“I heard you’ve been flirting,” I said, and I kept my tone light.
Frankie said, “How could I help myself? Pretty boy like Ryan.”
I couldn’t argue with that. My husband is nothing if not stunning.
“So show me,” I said.
“Show you?”
“Show me the moves you’ve been getting up to during your private lessons.”
–Emilie Paris, “Private Lessons”
To many people, the details on Dean and Brando are surprising — probably in the same way that hearing singer David Bowie and actor Alan Cumming say they identify as bisexual isn’t surprising at all.
Still, with Bowie and Cumming, many will assign Bowie to the straight camp because he married a woman, and Cumming to the gay camp because he married a man — regardless of the fact that Cumming told Instinct Magazine in 2013, “I still define myself as a bisexual even though I have chosen to be with Grant. I’m sexually attracted to the female form even though I am with a man and I just feel that bisexuals have a bad rap.”
Inside the lift, both of you are all over me. Your hands, your bodies, your cocks. Yours is swelling through your jeans, just like it swelled against my ass on the balcony at the party. Rob’s is up against my hand, because I’m caressing it through his pants, thinking how wet it must be with my spit.
You kiss me deeply. Then he does. Your hands are up my shirt, on my breasts. One of his is down my pants, tucked tight between my belt and my belly so his fingertips just reach the top of my panties. I grind against both of you.
After you’ve both kissed me deeply, my hands trail up to the backs of your heads and I try to push the two of you together.
You resist at first —- both of you. But you flash that patient look at me, seemingly thinking, My pervert wife. And he gives me a smile.
You kiss. Right there against me. I caress your faces as you pin me between you, and your tongues intertwine. I can smell you both all over me. I can feel your cocks hard against me —- you against my thigh, him against my butt.
We reach Rob’s floor and he guides us both out.
–Tori Holden, “Pick Up The Interest”
Bisexuals have a “bad rap” indeed. The list of famous male bisexuals is significant and gay rights are now a global conversation, yet when the subject of bi men is broached, everyone seems to think they’re invisible —- or worse. Common perceptions about bisexual men appear designed to hurt them, and come from the same dated, harmful sexual stereotypes that use shame to keep people in the closet.
The worst of these return “Is your husband gay?” for search results on male bisexuality, and produce articles about guys that are “actually gay,” or are serial lairs and cheaters who have a compulsion to bang “anything that moves.” Bisexual men are seen this way from both the straight and gay sides of the divide; in sexual health politicking they’re also painted as “less clean” because they won’t “pick a side” and stay there.
Culturally denied a range of healthy sexual expression, men whose sexual orientation is bisexual are characterized as confused —- by people, I believe, who have never actually spoken to a bisexual guy.
At our house, the scene was carefully set. You weren’t surprised that we were late, because it was all planned out from the start. The two of you know me too fucking well. Roger was sure he’d be able to coerce me into a game or six of darts. And you knew I’d feel so guilty I wouldn’t even have the balls to call.
Ten minutes later, back at our house, there we were, Roger leaning hard on the doorbell before I could get my key out, and you, opening the door in your sleek leather pants, tight white tank top, high-heeled boots. You looked so fierce, I could have come on the spot.
“Boys,” you said as a greeting.
Just that word.
Your eyes told me that I should have known better. That I was too slow to figure things out. Before I could respond in my own defense, we were walking after you like bad little kids heading toward the principal’s office. Roger was the ringleader, taking my hand and pulling me down the hall to the bedroom, showing you the present he’d bought and actually undressing you and helping you put it on.
Fuck, Elena, the way you looked stripped down with that harness and its big, obscene cock. Your pale skin, long dark hair, midnight eyes alert and shining. I wanted — well, you know damn well what I wanted.
–Eric Williams, “Roger’s Fault”
The negative, harmful perceptions are far and away from the realities and truths about bisexual men — who, in fact, know exactly what they want (and who they love), thank you very much. And it turns out that what they want — for our purposes at least, in Bisexual Husbands — is ridiculously hot.
When I announced the title of this book on social media, the number of men who responded saying, “Hey, it’s a book about me!” was almost overwhelming. There were also a lot of people who said it sounds like a hot genre, why isn’t this a thing? It actually is a thing (and a very popular thing), it has just resided primarily on the fringes of roughly written fetish porn — until now.
I slid over on the bed, and the men took the center. Marcus kicked off his own briefs, and the two athletic lovers went head-to-toe on the mattress. I actually stood up with my back to the wall, so I could gaze down at them. They became a sort of sucking machine. Marcus had Jason’s dick down his throat. Jason got to know the sensation of cocksucking for the very first time.
“Oh, fuck,” I sighed. I plunged my fingers into my panties and really worked my clit. I’d known for years that Jason had wanted to be with a man. What I hadn’t known was how turned on the image would make me.
I’d brought Marcus as a fabulous gift for my husband. The gift turned out to be two-fold, because I had never seen anything as sensual, as awe-inspiring, as the way Jason looked with his mouth full of cock.
–Alison Tyler, “Sparks Will Fly”
Bisexual Husbands is where we get to see realistic, hot, smart stories about bisexual men exploring their dirtiest, most sensual and most thrilling fantasies — while in the same picture is someone they love and trust (someone who loves and trusts them, too).
Working with the authors on these stories was a blast. I knew what I had in mind, but once I cut these talented writers loose, they kind of blew me away when the deadline hit.
Now I was jealous. For the first time ever, I was jealous in a sexual interaction. But not because Owen was getting a blowjob from my pretty wife. I was jealous because I no longer had Owen’s dick in my mouth.
I actually thought of pushing her aside. How rude would that have been? Pushing my wife out of the way so I could have at her boss’s cock. Even in my dreamy sex-haze, I possessed better manners than that. Instead, I sat back on my haunches, and I actually got one hand between my legs, thinking of stroking myself through my slacks while I watched them. How surprised was I when Owen grabbed a handful of my hair and forced me to look up at him.
“Did I say you could touch your cock?”
I went wide-eyed. My hand dropped to my side. I was baffled by his tone, but I was also more aroused than I could ever remember.
–Craig Thompson, “Your Turn”
The stories here are rich, character-driven experiences whose snapshot in time is some of the hottest sex I’ve read in ages, and may be the most sexually edgy collection I’ve edited in years. Throughout the collection, I wove in a few signature cocktails as icebreakers, and a handful of practical tips that real-life bisexual men and their partners will appreciate.
My hope is that Bisexual Husbands contributes to giving us a different way to talk about what male bisexuality means. And that it opens up a genre of erotica that can honestly depict a long-misunderstood sexual orientation, while not skimping on just how goddamn sexy bisexual men really are.
Violet Blue
San Francisco
Jeudi 12 mars, le Cabinet de Curiosité Féminine était dans un reportage pour Allô docteur sur France 5. Le sujet : La masturbation, est sujet que l’on connait bien au sein du CCF! (Reportage à 10mn 35) (Re)-voir le reportage en replay >>
The post Le Cabinet de Curiosité Féminine dans un reportage du magazine Allô docteur, sur la masturbation appeared first on Le Cabinet de Curiosité Féminine.
Quand on écrit à la première personne, il y a une possibilité qui me fascine toujours : ne pas donner de genre à son récit. Ce n’est pas facile, il faut éviter les accords, se méfier des adjectifs, mais c’est possible, surtout si le texte n’est pas très long. Un genre de contrainte oulipienne, en … Lire la suite →
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Rue69 est partenaire de la nouvelle saison des « Textapes d’Alice » – une série qui a entrepris de raconter l’évolution des codes amoureux à travers les aventures d’Alice, une jeune trentenaire web-addict. Vous pouvez (re)voir les épisodes précédents sur le site de France 4.
Je n’avais pas trouvé jusqu’à maintenant de cockring qui apporte un vrai plus lors d’une relation sexuelle. Quand j’ai vu le concept du Pipedream Assgasm, je me suis dis que le concept pouvait être franchement sympathique, alors magie du testeur de sextoy sur le web, voici le test. Le Pipedream Assgasm dans sa boite Présentation…
Cet article Test du cockring et plug anal Pipedream Assgasm est apparu en premier sur NXPL.
Notre chroniqueur Bob Howard devait recevoir un livre intitulé « Camille » (étonnant, non?), mais les voies des services de presse étant impénétrables, c’est « Sex and the TV » qui a atterri dans sa boîte aux lettres. Ne s’en laissant pas démonter, Bob l’a dégusté et nous en fait sa chronique culinaire.
Le titre de ce roman, par son analogie avec la célèbre série télé « Sex in the city », pose déjà les bases narrative : une bandes de copines délurées, du sexe et le monde merveilleux du paf. La couverture et son quatrième sonne “girly” mais du “girly with a rabbit”, on nous prévient les scènes de sexe sont de “vraies” scènes de sexe. De la chick-lit mais par pour fillette.
Roman crémeux
Les précédentes aventures de Charlotte (l’héroïne), Deborah et Morgane ont été un succès si j’en crois ce que l’éditeur (La Musardine) affirme. Octavie Delvaux reprend donc ses personnages pour une deuxième saison.
L’histoire ? Une jeune femme, Charlotte, cordon bleu émérite, s’est fait une réputation avec son blog (voir le tome 1 : Sex in the kitchen, ce qui ne me parait d’ailleurs pas très hygiénique). Elle devient alors chroniqueuse dans une émission d’access prime-time. Elle va devoir y faire sa place (je n’ose dire son trou, le but de principal cette note est de faire rire Camille et, par la bande, toi aussi lecteur/lectrice) au milieu des intrigues et autres coups sous la ceinture dont un particulièrement gratiné qui va obliger notre héroïne et ses copines à faire corps pour sauver son honneur et sa carrière naissante.
Ce roman m’a un peu déconcerté : j’ai eu l’impression de goûter un gros cupcake alléchant, au glaçage flashy mélangeant des saveurs piquantes de gimgembre, des touches amusantes d’agrumes et des couches un peu épaisse de guimauve.
Commençons par le gimgembre, les scènes de sexes sont de vraies scènes de sexe. Octavie Delvaux ne minaude pas : on pénètre, on lèche, on suce, on fouette et on se fait fouetter, on se branle et on branle, on met et on se fait mettre dans la joie et la bonne humeur, sans tabous. BDSM, candaulisme, échangisme, lesbianisme (pas de pratiques homosexuelles masculines mais l’héroïne évoque un épisode du précédent roman où elle a offert à son amant cette découverte) mais sans aucune vulgarité. Et ça c’est un vrai plaisir, rien de graveleux, de poisseux, Octavie Delvaux mène ces coïts avec doigté.
Mais, car il y a toujours un “mais”, le vocabulaire, la sémantique, les images utilisés m’ont quelque fois paru un peu cliché : “le centre brûlant de son anatomie”, “des jouissances secrètes et inédites”, “Elle était rarement aussi excitée que lorsqu’elle jouait les salopes devant son Chéri”, “Elle avait l’impression de baigner dans une mer de vice et de plaisir sans fond”, “Sentir son érection creusait en elle des gouffres de désir”, etc.
Erotique, romantique, homoristique
Les mots pour décrire le sexe sont toujours difficiles à trouver et à manier : allez parcourir les 50 nuances de Gris pour comprendre ce qu’est l’érotisme avec un style anémique, c’est du brutal. Octavie Delvaux, elle, trébuche un peu mais il faut avouer qu’elle s’en sort assez correctement au final ; notamment sur la scène érotique finale, la scène cliché par excellence : une plage de sable fin sous la lune et un couple d’amants. L’auteure dynamite la scène (et un tabou) avec l’aide d’une ficelle dont je vous laisserai découvrir tout le sel.
Ce roman de 312 pages est aussi un récit dans lequel s’entrecroisent les histoires sexuelles, sentimentales et professionnelles d’une bande de copines très libres, avec beaucoup d’humour. Je pense à Déborah, la dominatrice amoureuse qui doute de sa vocation permet à O.Delvaux de nous délivrer quelques scènes cinglantes et très amusantes. Certaines de ces scènes sont d’ailleurs “censurées”, mais l’auteure nous les offre sur son blog.
L’humour est très présent dans ce livre et c’est un point fort de la narration. On rit, on reste léger et on prend du plaisir. L’auteure place même de ci de là quelques portraits ou scènes qui sont aussi acérés que les couteaux de cuisine de Charlotte.
Le quatrième de couverture estampille le roman comme une “comédie érotique et romantique”. Je ne peux que confirmer mais le romantisme m’a souvent paru artificiel et un peu “cucul la praline”. C’est peut-être le côté chick-lit qui ne passe pas chez moi. Néanmoins mon agacement n’a été que ponctuel, car j’ai globalement aimé ce livre. Il m’a surpris car j’ai découvert un type de récit érotique que je n’aurais sans doute pas lu spontanément. C’est un heureux hasard qui a fait échouer cette petite pâtisserie piquante sous mes papilles de lecteurs de mauvais genres.
Sex and the TV n’est pas un livre majeur de l’érotisme mais c’est bien écrit, parfois surprenant et on prend du plaisir à lire les histoires de cul de cette bande de filles. Et c’est très bien comme cela.