Relocation!

Last Wednesday, Google sent an email to every blogger who's blog is consider adult in nature. The key part of the message was "We will be updating our Content Policy to strictly prohibit the monetisation of Adult content on Blogger. After June 30th 2013, we will be enforcing this policy and will remove blogs which are adult in nature and are displaying advertisements to adult websites."

With Google's usual diplomacy and communication skills, they declined to explain what counts as monetisation. Is it having pop-up porn ads on your site?  Is it linking to your adult books on Amazon? Is it linking to your sexcam business? Adult bloggers don't know because Google won't elaborate.

The kicker for me was the cut-off date of June 30th.  Four freaking days to back up and move your blog? I noticed that I didn't get an email telling me how to do that.

As an erotic writer, porn hobbyist and sex enthusiast, I often realize that my hobbies and interests will not be accepted by some people. That's cool. They're not my friends and I don't worry about them.

It is painfully clear to me that Google/Blogger isn't my friend either. They could have done this in a completely different manner and they choose not to. That's cool. I am going elsewhere and I am not going to worry about them.

Erotiterrorist is moving to ShonRichards.com hosted by Dreamhost. Please update whatever thingy you use to keep track of this stuff.

Fiction: Summer Bets

“You see that woman in the white bikini?” Raul asked.

Vimika opened her eyes. The sun was bright and blinded her. She covered her eyes and scanned the beach. A little further down the beach she saw the woman. She had bronze skin and a bright white bikini. Thick brown hair whipped in the wind.  The woman was ankle deep in the water and going further out.

“I see her,” Vimika said.

“Good,” Raul said.  The sun reflected off his own bronzed skin. “I bet you that her top falls off when she comes out of the water.”

Vimika laughed. “Really? That bikini is pretty tight but I think you’ve got a case of wishful thinking.”

“So you’re not taking my bet?” Raul asked.

“What are you betting?” Vimika said.

“What do you want?” Raul said.

“If her top doesn’t come off,” Vimika said, “You have to wear my panties all day tomorrow. You’ll wear them under your trunks on the beach, you’ll wear them when we go out to eat and you’ll wear them when we fuck tomorrow.”

“You kinky bitch,” Raul said.  He laughed at it. “Oh man, you know how much I hate to wear your panties. I swear, I can still feel them riding up my ass from the last time.”

“That’s what I want,” Vamika said.  She watched as the bronze woman went further out. The water crashed against the woman’s hips and the woman froze in place.

“Okay,” Raul said.  “But if that’s what you want, what I want is to bust my nut on your face.”

“Ha!” Vamika said.  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  You want to jack that fat cock of yours and shoot your cream all over my black face, don’t you?

She reached over to him and placed her hand over the rising bulge in his swim trunks. Her finger squeezed around the beast that was pulsing to be inside her.  She squeezed until he moaned and then she let go.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” Raul said.

“It’s a bet,” Vamika said.

They watched in silence.  The bronze woman walked until a wave crashed onto her shoulders.  The woman sank into the water and let it come up to her neck.

A seagull cried. A Chinese girl walked by with her chubby boyfriend.  Vamika’s stomach rumbled and she regretted the hot dog she ate at the pier this morning.

She thought about Raul wearing her panties. She would pick the pink ones. He hated those. She remembered how his hairy balls looked encased in frilly lace.

Vamika’s pussy felt a flush of dampness.

She thought about Raul coming on her face. He would stand before her while she knelt on the ground. His cock would be wet from her sucking on it. He would shoot a heavy lod on her and enjoy every splattered drop.

Vamika’s pussy clenched with heat.

“Here she comes,” Raul said.    

The bronze woman was heading out of the water.  Her thick brown hair was plastered to her body now.  She rose out of the water with one breast exposed.  The pale flesh of her tanline was almost a spotlight on her exposed nipple.

“No fucking way,” Vamika said.

One brazen step was followed by another and another.  The bronze woman looked to the left and right; perhaps looking for her towel.  It was only when the water was below her knees did she notice her top.  Even then, the bronze woman was slow to cover up and when she did it was with no urgency.

“Son of a bitch,” Vamika said.  “How did you know?”

“I’ve been coming to Mermaid Beach since I was a teenager,” Raul said.  “That woman has always been here and she always loses her top, no matter what she is wearing.”

“Well played asshole,” Vamika said.  “I’ll get you on the next bet.”

She reached down from her chair and pushed her fingers into the sand. There were two columns of words, separated by a long line.  On both sides of the line were various degradations, humiliations and dreams.  With her finger, Vamika added ‘Facial’ to the column marked R.

Von Madd Laboratories Safety Update

Greetings Scientists, this is your employer, Dr. Otto Von Madd. Please take a break from your exciting science and listen to the following message.

Recently we have had three nearly fatal accidents at Von Madd Laboratories. As you know, the well being of our associates is of the highest priority right behind erotic innovation, meeting production goals and achieving personal multiple orgasms but a high priority nonetheless. The three recent accidents were all preventable and I would like to remind everyone of some basic safety rules.

Rule #1- Always wear your safety goggles. I cannot emphasis this enough. Dr. Julia Aggins lost an eye to high velocity sperm ejaculation in the Lubrication Lab. Due to the physics defying properties of the Perpetual Lube she was dealing with, she is very fortunate that the sperm didn't go straight through her brain.

Rule #2 - Refrain from having sex in the stairwells. Employees are allowed to have sex in their laboratories, offices, the break room, the gym, any of the outdoor benches, the massage room and the ever popular orgy room so while I understand the desire to have sex in the only area designated as a sex-free zone it is highly unsafe. It may seem sexy to bend someone over a guard rail and falling and breaking bones is rarely sexy.

Rule #3 - Be sure to clean up any ejaculate. Slipping accidents is up 60% this month alone. This includes female ejaculate and yes, this is directed to you, Dr. Cruz.

Thank you for your attention. You may now resume your science.  

Summer Science

A weird confluence of events has me working for the next five weeks at a research laboratory doing science stuff. Okay, mostly I am helping them with their document process but I can't tell you more because everything they do is confidential. Let's pretend I am testing spanking vibrators all day, okay?

Safety training was my favorite. These people deal in chemicals and the average college education is somewhere in the seven PhD's range but their number one accident involves stairs. No one ever gets a chemical burn but these geniuses are tripping on stairs every other week. You can't make that shit up.

They issued me a notebook where I am allowed to write about science business stuff but the notebook can never leave the property and it will be handed down to the next science worker. My handwriting looks like a six year old asking such deep questions like "what does tare mean?". Meanwhile, the pages preceding mine were written in the most beautiful handwriting you have ever seen and it describes complex long chains of chemicals. I am tempted to write sex tips instead.

Since I will be working a day job for the next month or so, I am sure it will affect my writing output. I have two stories in the buffer so hopefully I will be able to provide a story every Wednesday.

*Painting is Mad Science by Greg Hildebrandt

Fiction: Seashell Steve

Steve stepped out onto the balcony of his condo. Mermaid Island was gorgeous this morning. The wind was gentle, the temperature warm and clouds of interesting shaped littered the sky but didn’t block any of the sun. The water was blue and fringed with white foam. Most people would consider the view to be inspiring.

Steve was not inspired.

He took out his binoculars and scanned the beach. It was still early and not many people were out. There were a few old men out on the pier. Smoke rose from the Fish Shack. Seagulls picked at whatever they could find.

There, right beside a sand mound shaped like a giant cock, was what Steve needed. A gorgeous Korean girl wearing a one piece bathing suit was spreading her towel. She had a gorgeous ass. Steve sighed as she laidout on her stomach.

That was inspiration.

Steve sat down and picked up a seashell. He picked up a paintbrush and dabbed some white onto the shell. Stroke by stroke, he recreated the Korean woman’s ass. He captured her curves, the pull of the swimsuit and the fuckable qualities of that ass.

It took him two minutes but he felt better after painting it. He set it aside and picked up another sea shell. Now it was time to start painting mermaids and crabs.

Wendy ran the store on the pier and she bought his seashells at two dollars apiece. She then turned around and sold them at five dollars a piece. The summer months turned into a profitable time of year for a retired man like Steve.

It was also three months of painting fucking mermaids, crabs and fish. That is all they wanted. Paint a boat? Fuck that shit, the tourists would leave it to rot on the shelf. A painting of Atlantis carefully detailed on a shell smaller than your palm? Nope, the tourists wanted fucking mermaids or even a goddamn crab.

One day Steve got mad and painted a big giant pussy on a seashell. He expected a complaint from Wendy but he never heard anything. The next week he drew some nice fat tits. Wendy still didn’t say anything. Now every day he draws at least one dirty shell. He hoped she was selling them but he also hoped that she wasn’t noticing the dirty shells she was putting up for sale.

It was an immature thing for him to do but fuck it; he was old. Steve was getting too old to be walking the beach and bending his tired back over to pick up fucking seashells for tourists to buy

There was a knock on his door. “It’s open!” he yelled.

Joan walked in. The blonde had a smile that lit up her entire face. It was infectious enough to shake Steve out of his artistic pity party. She owned a timeshare next door and was leaving by the end of the week.

 “I got you some more,” she said. She held up a gallon ziplock bag full of seashells.

Steve set down the sea shell with a painting of a crab. Fucking crab.

“Guess I better pay you for them,” he said.

Joan giggled. Most women her age couldn’t giggle without it coming across as an affectation but with Joan it was genuine. She hurried over to him and set the bag down on a pile of other bags.

Steve stayed in his chair. He watched as Joan unzipped her shorts and wiggled out of them. She pulled her panties down too and Steve bit his lip at the sight of that luxurious brown bush. He wanted to lean forward and plant a nice big kiss on that pussy.

“Across your knees?” Joan asked. She failed at hiding how much she wanted him to agree

“Yes,” Steve said.

Joan stretched across his knees. He was sure that she brushed her tits across his legs on purpose. She settled down and he got a good look at her ass.

It was covered in nice lovely bruises. It was a wonder that she could walk up and down the beach at all, much less picking up new shells for him.

“Ready?” he said.

“Yes,” Joan said.

Steve grabbed her ass. Joan clenched as his fingers tightened around her buttocks. He gave her a good squeeze and she winced. The bruises were healing but he had just put them there last night. She was tender and ready for more. He knew that if he slipped his finger inside her sex, she would be as wet as the ocean.

Sometimes Steve loved the fucking tourists.

Tap! Tap! Tap! He started with gentler taps. His hand more bounced off her ass more than slapped. As tender as Joan was, she still felt it. She squirmed and twisted as he spanked and it had an immediate effect on his cock.

Tap! Tap! Tap! He struck her left cheek a few times and then the right cheek a few times. Joan moaned. She also clenched her ass tight. Steve smiled. She was learning. She knew what was coming and she was preparing for it.

Tap! Tap! Tap! Steve held off. He wanted her to wait until she could bear it no more. The waves crashed below them and Steve slowly counted off ten waves in his head.

Tap! Tap! Tap! Slap! Steve brought his hand down hard on her left cheek. Joan jumped and let out a cry of shock. It was probably also a cry of relief that the real spanking had finally begun.  

Slap! Slap! Slap! Steve slowed down as he delivered now solid slaps to her ass. He could feel her desire wetting his lap.  Joan was so damn horny. It wouldn’t be long before she started his leg.

Slap! Slap! Slap He slapped her right ass a few times and then her left ass. When she got used to that, he started slapping the center of her ass. When she got used to that, Steve would slap her nice red ass in a clockwise motion. A few turns of the ass and he started slapping in a counter-clockwise motion.

Joan was humping his leg now. She had a nice slow grind that would be worth throwing out his back to experience. The woman was a good fuck; he just knew it.

Slap! Slap! WHACK! Steve hit her a little harder than he was planning too. Fuck, he was horny and lost control a bit. He stopped for a second and grabbed her ass. He felt the heat radiating from her ass; hotter than any sand on the beach right now.

“Oh God,” Joan moaned.

Steve thought about fucking her. Then he thought about how he would lose a day of painting from fucking. Then he thought about Joan wanting to hang around the condo. Then he thought about Joan wanting to know more about his life, tell him about her life and try to arrange to meet during the winter.

Then he thought about who was going to pick up those damn shells off the beach if Joan was spending all her time fucking and talking with him?

WHACK! He slammed his hand down into her other cheek. Joan shivered as he let his hand rest on her ass.

WHACK! He slapped her other cheek as hard as he could. His cock throbbed and thought about climaxing on her spanked skin.

WHACK! He struck her in the center of her ass and Joan let out a long moan. This time he let his fingers glide over her ass. She winced and squirmed as even this gentle touch drove her crazy.

Fuck picking up shells.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Steve tore into her ass. He gave her a spanking that would make her walk funny for the rest of the day. That is if she didn’t rush back to her timeshare and masturbate herself into a morning coma.

Twenty hard slaps later, Steve stopped. He put his hand on her back as she shook. He stroked her hair until she was ready to stand.

Joan got up on shaky legs. She was going to say something. More than likely she was going to offer to do any perverted thing he could imagine.

“Bring some more shells, and I’ll pay you some more,” Steve said.

Joan laughed and put her shorts back on. Steve smiled with pride at how gingerly she walked out of his condo.

Steve sighed. He was going to fuck her all right. He would fuck her on her last day. He would fuck the shit out of her and after a week of spanking and teasing, she would think he was the greatest fuck ever. He just had to last the week.

He picked up a seashell. It was time to paint another fucking mermaid. 

Erotica Hobbyist

I am going through like my seventeenth childhood recently. I used to play various tabletop wargames and I recently got the bug to play/invest/paint some spaceship miniatures. This has led to me to dozens of hobby blogs and message boards.

Quite a few of these hobbyists talk about the fact that they may buy rulebooks, miniatures, paints but nnot actually ever use them because they have no one to play these games with. That doesn't stop them from purchasing things because the next best thing to playing is the collecting and reading. In fact, these non-players make up a large part of the consumer base.

Which got me thinking about erotica. While there is an immediate release that can be derived from porn through masturbation, I find myself watching, buying and collecting porn that I don't technically use in the masturbation sense. I collect porn art because I think it is pretty. Or maybe I buy it because it has a gimmick that appeals to me on a mental level. Or maybe I buy it because it's very existence is arousing. But am I buying porn to aid in masturbation? Not really.

In fact, I would say quite a bit of my porn falls into a collector's interest. I have a X-rated parody of Friday the 13th simply because I am appalled/fascinated by the Friday the 13th franchise. I have quite a few bad porn books from the 90's just because I thought it would be cute to collect one particular cover model. I have stuff just because it is weird. I have some stuff just because I wonder if they were as good or bad as I thought they would be.

And then again, I have quite a bit of porn because it is fucking sexy. And yes, I do have some porn just because I do like masturbation aids. I guess in that sense, I am a hobbyist lucky enough to get to play.

All of this has got me thinking if maybe we should approach sex blogs in a different manner. I would wager that most sex bloggers are not banging a hundred different people each year, and although the may want to, the reality is not very conducive. Most sex bloggers are sex hobbyists. We like sex. We like talking about it. We like looking at it. We like reading it. We would like to do it, but the frequency of our activity shouldn't define our level of interest. We are fans. We are creators and consumers or erotica.

Erotica is our hobby.

For Sale: Sexy Science Beach Volleyball

Sexy Science Beach Volleyball is available for sale on Kindle. I previously posted the story as Beach Volleyball Mad-ness a few years ago. This version collects all the parts into one easy to read document and also features 45% more consistency in how I used quotation marks for the play-by-plays.

For those of you unfamiliar with the story, I present the follow teaser.

"Dr. Otto Von Madd is the world’s leading scientist in the field of erotic research. He makes sex robots, orgasmic lipstick and other fine super-science sextoys. He is filthy rich and can do pretty much what he wants.

What he wants is to hold a beach volleyball tournament. What he really wants is to improve the sport with some sexy new additions. He holds an invitational tournament for the world’s best women beach volleyball players.

Laura and Victoria are not the world’s best beach volleyball players but they are invited anyway. Maybe it is because Laura accidentally flashed a nation wide TV audience in their last match. Maybe it is because Victoria’s ruthless repressed dominant tendencies. Whatever the reason, these two best friends are off to compete in a tournament neither of them will ever forget.

Sexy Science Beach Volleyball is a fun but sexy story about mad science, sex, spanking, bondage, female domination, male submission and beach volleyball."

Seriously, it has beach volleyball and mad erotic science. That is erotica gold right there.