Probitionate in Situ

This ain't no regular blog, so don't be expecting hot topics to comment on or external links to make you giggle. It's a repository for things-written. By yours truly. A pretty broad spectrum of material going back fifteen years. Oh, and if you've a short attention span- Well, you've probably stopped reading already.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival


Chapter 9/18 


Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot  



“I’m very happy right now,” I say, running my hand over her thigh, her knee, up to her hip. I’m lying beside her.

    Alison registers my comment, and then erupts into laughter.

    “I amuse you?” I ask in my best Joe Pesci.

    “No. It’s just- It’s just that I’ve never had a guy say something like that when we’re heading for fucking. That’s all.”

    “You’d prefer I wasn’t happy?” I tease, travelling down her leg again.

    “I was expecting for you to say ‘You’re one hot gal!’ or ‘I can’t believe how horny you make me!’ or ‘Let’s fuck!’ Something like that.”

    “Really?” I ask, pushing my hand inside her boot, at the back, laying my fingers flat on her calf. “You know what I write, you know the kind of porn I make...and you’re expecting me to say the expected?” Here, I pinch her. Not hard. Just a gathering of skin. Of muscle.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival


Chapter 8/18


Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot


I watch Alison take note of the company’s sign. It’s tastefully presented, an exercise in minimalism; unless you knew the meaning of the word ‘prurience’, you’d have no idea we made smut here. “Canadians have a rep for being polite,” she says.

    “Yup.”

    “And for being low-key.”

    “Ditto, yup.”

    “I’m curious,” she says as we pull up to a parking space. “How do your neighbours feel about what you do here?”

    I turn off the engine. “It’s a mix. Most of them couldn’t really care less. We’re a business. We pay taxes. And we don’t flaunt what we do.”

    “You’re not L.A.”

    “No, ma’am.”

    “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Friday, November 15, 2013

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival


Chapter 7/18

Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot

Here’s a theory of mine: Lovemaking doesn’t stop when the sex pauses.                                  

    (Which reminds me, before I continue: Years ago, a Playboy Playmate said ‘There are three types of sex: fucking, making love and making a baby. I can tell you about the first two.’ The distinction between the first two? Hmm... It’s not a question of ‘speed’ or ‘intensity’ or any of that. Not to get ephemeral on you, but to me, it comes down to what’s being transferred between the two (or three) people beyond the physical. On an emotional, on a psychic, on an essence level. Think of it this way: if you could see auras that people give off, based on the activities of their ‘true selves’, you’d see a particular colour for fucking. And you’d see a particular colour for making love. Of course, it’s probably rare that you’d see an aura of one colour alone; most occasions would be a mix, meaning that you’d see a combination of colours; mostly that of fucking, most of that of making love. And the partners’ auras most likely wouldn’t be identical, either.)

    So. My theory...

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival

 
Chapter 6/18
 
Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot

    We huddled in bed once more. But this time, we weren’t back-to-chest. We were facing each other. Catching our breaths. Dealing with a prolonged tingle.

    “Whew!” she allowed, eyes dancing, initiating conversation with these simple actions.

    “Oh, I can top that,” I said, winking.

    She ducked her head and nuzzled. This ‘6feetofsunshine’ beauty nuzzled into my chest and it felt far more intimate and act than anything we’d been up to for the previous hour or so. “I don’t sleep with directors.”

    “And I don’t sleep with the talent.”

    “And yet here we are,” she said, her words lost in my torso, but not before I’ve caught their meaning.    

    “Yes, ma’am.”

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival


Chapter 5/18

Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot


Now I was the one doing the towering: segueing from our spooning, I hovered over Alison, driving into her. She grasped my wrist, then managed to lace her fingers in mine; her grip was powerful, only adding to my excitement.

    She’d not said anything for a while now. This doesn’t mean she’s not communicated tons. Especially with our activities getting a whole lot more ‘energetic’. There was whimpering, groaning...even what I’d have sworn was a sound similar to what a panther might produce. She hadn’t settled into a comfortable state; she received everything I offered her, but no matter where we’d gone so far, it’s like she was laying in wait for the right moment to send things into another realm.

    I provided that moment.

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival


Chapter 4/18


Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot

      I like variety in my sex, Both personally, and on the screen. I like spontaneity, I like adventure, I like whimsy. I have no problem staying in one position if my partner’s benefitting from what we’re doing. I’ve had wonderful sessions when only one position is used, and I’ve had interludes when we’ve run the gamut. (For the record, I also believe that ‘quickies’ can be as great as ‘marathons’. It all comes down to what’s being exchanged.)

    Our bodies seemed to take up the full length of the bed, even though we were huddled up, back-to-front. Spooning...but we were still fucking.

    To be frank, I was overwhelmed by Alison. I was finding that there were just too many aspects of her that hold me enthralled, so that I almost had to shut down my receptors, be they sight, touch, smell-

    “Here’s a crazy idea,” Alison said into the near-quiet, the only real sounds being those made when cock slides in and out of cunt, when the bed is rocked evenly, forcefully (‘an iron fist in a velvet glove’?), when breathing mounts, and gasps escape. I felt her voice vibrate through my body. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?” After a short count, she turned her head to me. Meaning even though my vantage point hasn’t changed, what I can see, has. And this shift jolted me. She saw this, and bore down on me, increasing the embrace her pussy had on me. “Or would I be embarrassed?”

Monday, November 11, 2013

Alison Tyler: The Amazonian Man-swoon Generator (or ‘I Was a Goner From The First Glimpse’) Part One: The Arrival


Chapter 3/18


Photo courtesy of Bikini Riot

I’m a writer. Back in the day when Playboy online consisted of more than merely photos, back when they trumpeted solid writing, back when erotica held cachet in that visual universe, I was a regular contributor to their ‘Tales From The Mansion’ feature. My stuff- Well, let’s put it this way: I don’t run with the usual crowd, never have. So I don’t concentrate on some of the genres that are popular. My work consists of ‘emotional and erotic stories set against the backdrop of sex’. So it’s not so much about ‘Tab A into Slot B’ as it is about attraction, connection, engagement... transformation. Don’t get me wrong: there’s tons of fucking, all manner of salacious activities, jaw-dropping parades of prurience. After all, my tales are extended versions of common fantasies...as relayed through a particularly observing and empathetic mind.

    You see, I write homages to women.

    Tributes befitting their wonderfulness.

    In the classical sense, what you might refer to as paeans.

    Bottom-line, to me, women are the most fascinating of creatures. In fact, despite having written my erotic literature for a long time now, no matter my prolific output, I feel I’ve merely scratched the surface of the subject. I can only hope that along the way, I’ve managed to do some justice to them. If I haven’t, I will beg forgiveness and state that I was rendered a little handicapped by the splendour that the finer (and more evolved) sex  consistently presents. Indeed, this is the aforementioned ‘man-swoon’ effect in full force; I am often rendered a little dopey by what I’m writing. (If that sounds either cocky or indulgent, that I’d be burdened by endless erections by my own material, too bad.)

    Which brings me to this tale. About Alison Tyler.