Don't Look Now...

Alison Tyler



Oh, wait. I don’t mean that. What I mean is: Do look. Look at me. Right now. Oh, yes, I like when you look.

And then, stop. Wait. Turn around, and let me look at you. Why? Because I am both sides of a single fetish. Voyeur/Exhibitionist. Have been since before I knew the words to describe this slippery little turn-on. Maybe this is why my most treasured movies are Rear Window (all watching, right?) and Apartment Zero, which lets viewers into a host of different apartments, to see what other people are doing.

One of my favorite jobs was cleaning at a bed and breakfast, where I got to snoop through other people’s belongings (don’t think for a minute that maids don’t do this). I found porn, and sex toys, and Polaroids, found letters to ex-lovers, and journals nobody else was supposed to see. And I reveled in my finds like a treasure seeker on the beach who has uncovered a shiny gold coin.

I am fixated.
I want to know, see, hear everything.

Goes beyond simply being nosy, of course, because of the sexual thrill I get when I do spy a sexy bit of action, or when I honestly am put on display. But I think, truly, that everyone has a bit of this fetish inside of them. Who hasn’t stared at a couple kissing through a peripheral glance and paused, to see if something more would happen?

Yet, I understand my fetish has become a bit extreme. I take myself out to cafes in hopes of catching bits of sexy conversation. I watch all the time, everywhere I go. Hoping to spot some sight that will fill my needs. I read people's blogs, addicted to knowing what goes on in the lives of others. Luckily, my sneaky side has come in handy.

I’ve written about the fetish from both angles. Late Bloomer, in Caught Looking, featured a character who eavesdrops and watches for most of the story—who exposes herself only after the story actually ends.

Without a thought to what might happen if I got caught, I moved away from the wall, slid silently out of my bedroom, and padded quietly down the hall. As I’d expected, the door to Joe’s room was open. Only a sliver, but enough. I walked toward the open doorway as softly as I could, but I probably needn’t have bothered. They were busy, consumed by their own actions. They didn’t notice when I made my way right outside his bedroom door, positioning myself so that I could see Nina, ass upwards, and Joe, spanking her hard.

The fact that the door was ajar wasn’t too surprising. Nina was always a proud exhibitionist. At parties, she made sure to be seen kissing the cutest guy center stage, letting him put his hand up her top or down her skirt, closing her eyes as she became the pure definition of ecstasy. She didn’t think being on display made her look like a slut—she thought it made her look wanted. In demand.

Once, when we were on a double-date together at a drive-in, she actually made love in the back seat with her lucky man of the moment. I held my breath as I stared at the screen through the front window, not seeing the movie at all, captivated instead by the sultry noises coming from the back seat. First the wet sounds of Nina delivering a world-class blow job, slurping sounds punctuated by the moans of her man. Then the undeniable noises of her slipping on his lap and pumping her body until she reached her own personal Nirvana. My date stared straight forward, too, realizing from the start that he was going nowhere with me. Not that he would have wanted to. I was in head-to-toe black, hair in my face, as always. Nina was in a sunburst sundress, low in the back, low in the front.

There was nothing Nina ever found too revealing.

Good, I thought as I watched Joe’s hand make sweet contact with her sublime ass. Spank her harder. Spank her for me.

***

In Hide & Seek, my story Not a Voyeur features two people who are adamantly not voyeurs, or exhibitionists. Except, of course, when they are.

“I’m not a voyeur,” I told my boyfriend Courtney.

“I never said you were,” Courtney murmured from behind the Sports section of the newspaper. This was his favorite place to spend every Saturday morning.

“Really,” I insisted. “I’m not.”

“Why do you keep saying that, Lora?” he asked, sounding part bemused, part annoyed.

“Because of them,” I told him, my voice low.

“Them, who?”

“Those people out there. Fucking.”

Courtney set down his paper. He looked at me with his great green eyes as I pointed out the window, at the apartment across the street, and at the people in the apartment who were screwing each other silly. Without a word, Courtney stood and came to my side, so that we were both pressed against our own window, looking out.

I heard him suck in his breath as he took in the vision.

The girl was tall with blonde curls that fell past her shoulders and a tight, athletic physique. She looked like someone who never missed a workout. The man was well-built, with thick red hair cut short and several vibrant tattoos decorating his muscular arms. He had the girl in a tight embrace, and he was lifting her up and sliding her down on his cock, over and over and over.

“Oh, man,” Courtney murmured, gripping tightly onto my hand. “Just look at that.”

I felt myself getting wetter as I watched. Apparently, the vision was having a similar effect on Courtney. Not that he was getting wetter, of course, but that he was getting hard. He took my hand and placed it over the bulge in his drawstring pajamas, and I sighed when I felt the hidden treasure there that awaited me. Well, not quite so hidden. He’d completely tented the thin plaid fabric.

“How long have they been doing that?”

“I don’t know,” I told him. “I wasn’t watching. I’m not a voyeur, you know.” I managed to sound just the slightest bit indignant.

“That’s right,” he agreed, nodding. “Neither am I.”

I haven’t searched out the reason for my desire to see and be seen. I’ve left it simply as one of my (many) little fetishes. But I am not alone in embracing (or writing about) this turn-on. Check out Mathilde Madden’s Peep Show, or Hide & Seek and Caught Looking, which feature Lust Biters Shanna Germain, Gwen Masters, Dayle Dermatis, Teresa Noelle Roberts, and Portia DaCosta, as well as a host of other stellar erotic writers.

Now, fulfill my erotic fetish and confess your own sultry voyeur/exhibitionist fantasy to me. I’ll be right here, listening.

XXX,
Alison

P.S. Hide & Seek is the second collection I collaborated on with the divine Rachel Kramer Bussel. To satisfy any of your voyeuristic inclinations, watch her read from the book. And comment to win a smorgasbord of erotica: Hide & Seek, Caught Looking, & Exposed, all published by Cleis Press, as well as a copy of Peep Show by award-winning author Mathilde Madden.

I always feel like
Somebody’s watching me…
—Rockwell

Got Spanking?

by Alison Tyler


Excuse me if I stumble on my words. Because today's theme tends to leave me speechless. I lower my eyes. I bite my bottom lip. I forget what I'm supposed to do or say. Which makes introducing our guest blogger that much more difficult. So I'll do my best to pull myself together here, and give a hearty welcome to Rachel Kramer Bussel: Spanking Queen.

*
I've tried to figure out why so many times, but all I can really tell you is that the mere prospect of being spanked makes me wet. Spanking is such a deliberate act; it doesn't "just happen." You have to figure out whether the person you're with would be into it; then someone has to bend over, get in position, get ready. When I'm about to be spanked, that's one of the hottest moments, knowing my spanker is watching me, staring at my ass, maybe touching it. And when, BOOM!, the blow comes slamming down against my skin, whether from a hand or paddle or belt, I just melt. I go limp, the pain and heat blazing through me and making me want more. More more more. More spanking…followed by sex. Because nothing's a bigger tease, if you ask me, than being spanked and spanked alone.

Pretty much every time I've been spanked, it's made me want to get fucked right afterward. Or during. I know that's not the case for everyone; there are spanking groups and clubs, and some people who simply want to spank and/or be spanked, without the sex. For me, they feed on each other; getting fucked makes me want to get spanked, which makes me want to…Spanking just sends my head spinning, and that's what I love about it. For people who love it as much as I do (and I know there are lots of you!), we just can't get enough, which is why I'm so thrilled that I've now edited two volumes of Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z (and am editing Spanked right now for Cleis, so send me your spanking smut!) What impresses me so much about spanking erotica is that even though perhaps the mechanics of it may look the same, the motivations differ. The feelings differ. The physical sensations differ. The context, environment, tone, implements, all set the tone for a spanking. I write in the intro to Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z, volume 2:

Spanking means countless things in this anthology–love, anger, sublimation, awakening, desire, fulfillment, foreplay, fun, prodding, patience, surrender, exhibitionism, demand, pride, want, lust, punishment, reward, humiliation, power, surprise, daring, learning, lessons, teasing, and goodbye. I'm thrilled by the heady mix of emotions I can feel when I take or deliver a firm spanking, and even more thrilled that these powerful, erotic stirrings, the kind that can bring tears to your eyes, a smile to your lips and a prolonged stirring to your nether parts, are so beautifully, touchingly and wonderfully represented here. These teasing troublemakers, vamps and vixens, horny housewives and husbands, mean bosses, powerful masters and mistresses, sassy spankers and adoring ass worshippers get what's coming to them and much, much more. The wilier and sneakier they are in concocting schemes to get spanked, the worse off (or, really, the better) it is when they actually get their much-needed and well-deserved smacks.

Here's a snippet from my story "Queuing Up" in Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z, volume 2. I hope you like it, and you know where to go if you want more!

That first slap always takes me by surprise, even when I'm expecting it. There is such a vast difference between my ass laid bare, exposed to the air, but relatively intact, and the heat that brews along that most sensitive of parts after he has spanked me; from eager to seething in several brutal, beautiful seconds. Craig holds his hand tight against my skin, maintaining the warmth and the pain, making it last those few precious seconds longer. I'm lying naked across his lap, and beneath his tight jeans, his cock presses up against me, hinting, surging, wanting, but my spankings aren't about his cock, as much as I might want them to be, as hot and wet as they might get me. Sometimes I wonder if they're even about me at all; Craig comes to me with a glint in his eye, a severity of purpose and steely resolve to spank me until I flip over some immutable edge that I am in constant awe at how much our urges are in sync.

I squirm beneath him, my clit alive with the sensation of pleasure and heat as I wait for more. He raises his hand and brings it down equally as hard on my other cheek, and I smile to myself, even as my pussy clenches fiercely. His spankings are like a magic key that unlocks the secret of my desire, and even when I'm not totally in the mood, when my pussy seems to be on hiatus, when I want him to fuck me but don't really need it, a few smacks from his strong hand and I'm back on the edge, back to being willing to do absolutely anything for him to fuck me. He knows this too, can sense from the way I breathe, the way I squirm and then stay absolutely still, that I am torn between wanting more spankings and wanting his cock filling me all the way up, though that choice is up to him, as always. His hand rains down, smack after concentrated smack, so perfect in their placement that I almost forget that tonight, as we often do, we have an audience, an eager female face soaking up all that we are doing, so new to her and yet, I sense, already unfurling a special signal inside her, a need that now that she's discovered it must be attended to immediately.

*
To read more spanking-themed erotica, please check out Rachel's two awesome collections from Pretty Things Press. To buy "Got spanking?" paraphernalia, go here. Plus, one lucky commenter will win a copy of Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z, volume 2!
XXX,
Alison

Eating Cake is Better Than Having It Too: Lusty Lady Licks Us Good

If you haven’t heard of Rachel Kramer Bussel, then you’re likely not reading enough erotica. Rachel, who's also known as Lusty Lady, is the queen of all things erotic, edible and edibly erotic. She’s the author of too many short stories to count, much less name; the editor of books like Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z 2 and Glamour Girls; and a contributor to blogs, newspapers, magazines and nearly every other form of readable media out there.

We invited Rachel for cupcakes and diet Coke, and not only did she accept our invite, she let us pester her with a million questions about writing novels, tasty cakes and her newest books dominance-themed collections, He’s On Top and She’s On Top.

(And after the interview, read an excerpt from Teresa Noelle Roberts' short story, “Mark of Ownership,” which is included in She’s On Top. And don't forget to leave a comment--that will automatically sign you up for the free giveaway. Winner gets their choice of He's On Top or She's On Top!)

Lust Bites: What was the idea and/or reason behind doing He's On Top/She's On Top?

Rachel Kramer Bussel: I wanted to look at the eroticism of BDSM and dominant/submissive relationships in a context that wasn’t just about physical prowess. Too often in the media and public imagination, kink is about whips and chains and being harsh and cruel. I’m not saying it can’t be those things, but to me the erotic aspect of BDSM is the give and take, the way the top gives the bottom something they crave and gets something in return. I wanted these books to be ones kinky and non-kinky people could jerk off to and maybe gain a bit of understanding from.

LB: What was the story that surprised you most from the He's On Top/She's on Top collections?

RKB: Teresa Noelle Roberts’s “Mark of Ownership” in She’s on Top, because it had this quality of emotional tenderness while talking about a topic, cutting, that is not my personal cup of tea. It got to the heart of what I wanted to explore in these anthologies, which is how power, within the context of BDSM, isn’t absolute. The story shows how sometimes being the top is the toughest role to play because you have to watch out for your sub’s well-being as well as your own, and sometimes, perhaps, at the expense of your own.

LB: Why He's on Top/She's on Top? Isn't that a bit unfair on those of us who aren't that bothered about who's on top but care mostly about who's on the bottom?

RKB: Funny you should ask, because I am in the process of editing Yes, Sir: Erotic Stories of Female Submission and Male Dominance and Yes, Ma’am: Erotic Stories of Male Submission and Female Dominance, which will tell these stories from the bottom’s point of view (to be published by Cleis in early 2008).

But what was interesting to me is that even though technically these are tales from the top, I found that a good top has to be aware of what their bottom wants. The stories that most connected with me were ones where the tops took total pleasure in messing with their bottoms, while also showing a level of compassion and protection over them. I’m a switch, or rather, I can top or bottom depending on who I’m with and the dynamics of the relationship, and I found myself getting into some stories from the top’s point of view while in some I saw myself as the bottom in the story, but in all of them, there was something that I found arousing and thrilling.

LB: What's your biggest turn-on in a story?

RKB: It’s different in each one but usually there’s a point where the story just hooks me in. Sometimes that happens immediately, and sometimes it takes a while, but at whatever that point is I need to keep reading, even though part of my mind has already formed its own imagery and is running with the story on the page. I’m aroused both physically and intellectually and can’t wait to get to the end so I can start all over again.

LB: You're working on your first novel, right? How is that the same/different from the work you've done before?

RKB: Writing my novel, Everything But…, (to be published by Bantam next summer) is nothing like anything else I’ve ever written before. It’s a whole new level of work and madness, but it’s also giving me the freedom to play around with various characters and have my protagonist, Grace, experience a lot of different feelings and sexual situations, some familiar to me personally and some not. I don’t want to give too much away, but it’s about a virgin’s erotic awakening and how she goes about pursuing sexual fulfillment and trying to find true love.

LB: What's your favorite cake?

RKB: There are so many to choose from! I am a total cupcake aficionado, but I don’t only eat cupcakes. My favorite cupcake sounds boring but really is divine—vanilla/vanilla—but my favorite cake would have to be this chocolate zucchini cake I once had. I don’t have the recipe and have lost touch with the friend who made it, but it was super yummy. I’m much more of a cake than a frosting person, and think most cupcakes have too much frosting, but I also think you can’t really go wrong with a cupcake.

LB: What's the question that no one's ever asked that you wish they would?

RKB: Wow. I don’t know if I know. Maybe “What sleeps with you in your bed?” I think I will just leave that question there and perhaps someday I will answer it.

***

And now on to the excerpt from “Mark of Ownership” by Teresa Noelle Roberts:

This wouldn’t be the first time I’d drawn Ben’s blood. We’d done needle-play a couple of times, starting with one simple play piercing and working up to a fairly elaborate design, laced with colored ribbon, circling his nipples. Each time, I’d been left almost as shaken as he was, riding an endorphin rush of my own and flying so high it was hard for me to pull myself back to self-control and guide his flight home. It wasn’t the blood itself, although the effect of the ruby droplets against his chocolate skin was mesmerizing. It was the rush of absolute power, that someone would lie down and let me open the envelope of his skin.

Absolute power on my side, absolute trust on his, for those moments.

I’d never cut him before, but we’d talked about it, excitedly, almost obsessively.

It was as close as we ever came to talking about love.

***

That's all folks! Thanks for stopping by. Take another cupcake on your way out, and leave a comment at the door--you just might win your very own copy of He's or She's On Top!

Special Saturday Post - with cupcakes!

I'm excited, because it's Friday. But also because tomorrow we have an extra special guest - the divine Rachel Kramer Bussel will be joining us for an interview.

Editor, author and sex writer extraordinaire, Rachel's credits include editing Penthouse and various anthologies. She has erotic stories in over 80 books, with a lot of Bests in the titles, and she is the editor of the 'Naughty Spanking Series' books published by Pretty Things Press.

Join us tomorrow to welcome Rachel to Lustbites, and to hear more about her new duo of dominant themed anthologies: 'He's on Top' and 'She's on Top', published by Cleis Press. I believe we'll have a copy to give away, and I'm hoping cupcakes may be involved somehow...Don't miss it!

http://www.rachelkramerbussel.com/