Saturday Afternoon

We were over at a friend's house, leaning against the stone wall that separated us from a 300 foot drop into the ocean. The sun was shining and the sky was clear of any clouds. If we'd been further inland the temperature would have been in the 80's, but as it was, the ocean breeze was brisk enough to make me shiver once in a while. He put an arm around me and I nuzzled his neck. His body warmth and the naturally spicy scent of him immediately enthralled me.

"When we get home..." I started.

"Yes?"

"When we get home I want to tie you to my bed and ride you."

He made an interesting noise and pressed himself into me. I could feel his hardness against my belly. It was a tease and a promise.

A couple of hours later we headed home. I reached into the glove box for a toy and then reclined my seat. He didn't complain when I plugged the vibrator into the outlet, but he did shoot me an exasperated look that said can't you wait? My answer was to put my right foot on the dashboard and slide my left hand under my skirt. Waay up under my skirt.

Every guy fantasizes about having a girl who is always ready for sex, he told me once. Until he gets one and realizes what a nightmare keeping her satisfied can be. I chose not to take offense to this wry self-honesty on his part. I've found that my sex drive intimidates most of the men I date.

The drive home from Pacifica took seven or eight minutes. Enough time for me to have an orgasm and perfume the two-seater with the scent of pussy. When we pulled into the garage I leaned over and kissed him, teasing his mouth with my tongue. When he reached for me I opened the car door and dashed up the stairs.

He chased after me and caught me just inside the door. He pressed me up against the wall with his body and ground his cock against my mound, making me gasp when the seam on his jeans rolled over my clit.

I would have dropped to my knees right there if it wasn't for the fact that my mind was fixated on tying him to my bed. I wanted him that way. And so I grabbed his hand and pushed past him toward my bedroom, toward the scarf-draped hat stand that beckoned with promises of silken ties.

Silken and Me

As Silkenvoice, I do not pretend to be the perfect dream woman. Nor do I want to be, either in fantasy or reality. I am asked quite often "what do you look like" and my answer is usually either a variation of "average-looking" or "whatever you want me to look like", depending on how playful I am feeling. I am evasive because it is important to keep some distance between my online Silkenvoice persona and The Real Me(TM).

As Silkenvoice, I try to create a safe space in people's minds, a place for them to go and experience their sexuality positively. I write most of my stories in first-person feminine perspective, and I put a lot of myself into the narrator (narratrix?), so people usually think She is Me. And so I get this feedback on my stories "God you're perfect, I want you, I want to meet you." Now, while I know I am perfect, whole, and complete just as I am, the perfection of which they speak is my uninhibited sexual self-expression. Yes, I will try anything twice. Yes, I love to do all the naughty things I narrate. But the reality is that The Real Me is far more complex than Silkenvoice, and few people can handle the reality of me being perfectly me. Believe me on this.

I try to avoid getting ego-involved with my Silkenvoice persona. I don't want to fall into that trap of thinking that I am really as irresistible as my readers and listeners think. I assure you, I am as flawed a human as you are: I bleed once a month. I can be moody. I have a strong sex drive. I can kiss for hours. My mind is insatiable. I discriminate in favour of intelligence. I sometimes snore. I like being in control. I am a hard-nose about keepng promises. I dislike watching TV. I give procrastinators a hard time. I am incurably optimistic. I can be clumsy. I am touchy-feely. I am unstoppable. I am multi-talented and people find that intimidating. Silken, however, Silken is less complex.

Silken loves sex anywhere anytime. She seduces and is seduced by her lovers. She has inhibitions in all the right places. And because she is fictional, everything goes smoothly for her, and when it doesn't, she takes it in stride. Silken is fictional, a fantasy woman created to show that smart, self-confident, complex women are sexy, too; that a woman can submit sexually and not find it degrading; that a man can submit to a woman and not be less of a man; that sex in all its variety is not only healthy, but a doorway into intimacy and connection. Oh and fun. Yes, loads of fun.

So I draw a line between Silken and Me, and I keep it as best I can, for my protection. To protect me from stalkers, and from myself. It is tempting, all the adulation, but I am determined to keep it from going to my head (and cunt). So thank you for your interest in Silkenvoice, and please, feel free to ask questions. I just ask that you respect my choice not to answer some questions as clearly as you would like.

KR

Interview with a Pornographer (me?)

From a recent IM interview (bold type is the interviewer):

-As I mentioned in my email, I am working on a master's thesis on pornographers, particularly purveyors of written pornography / erotica. I have read your stories and your blog. I would like to ask you some questions, if I may?

-You may ask. I may even answer :)

-Fair enough. How long have you been writing erotica?

-I remember writing some fantasies down when I was 16 - 18 years old, then I stopped. I don't remember why. I started again, about 18 months ago.

-Do you consider what you write 'erotica'?

-Yes... much of it. I try to write about the sensual and the sexual in a way that allows people to feel positive about their sexual arousal, rather than 'dirty' or 'bad'. I've gotten feedback on one of my stories, in particular, that it was one of the few erotic stories out there that did not depict the submissive in a negative, simplified, or objectified manner. I was very pleased to hear that.

-Do you consider what you write 'pornography'?

-The word 'pornography' has pejorative connotations. As I recall, this is a compound word that derives from the greek or latin word for 'prostititute' combined with 'graphor' to mean something like... "one who depicts prostitutues and what they do." I am not associated with any prostitutues, I do not depict any prostitutes, nor am I one. That said, I would remind you that in Greece and Rome, and many other ancient cultures, temple prostitutes were highly regarded and thus it is quite likely that we've twisted the word, its original meaning, and the depictions themselves from something sacred, into something profane. Its all subjective, isn't it, wavering as it does in the winds of collective morality?

-Would you consider yourself a pornographer?

-I suppose I could. I suppose on some days I might. I guess I would be in good company: It wasn't so long ago that works by Vatsayana, Hong ji, Ovid, Sappho, James Joyce, DH Lawrence, Henry Miller, Anais Nin, Mark Twain, etc were considered 'pornographic. '

-Based on my criteria, you qualify as a 'pornographer'. How do you feel about that?

-I suppose it is apt. *shrug* It is a word. Your word. I don't really care. What is important is not how I feel about it, but how you or those who use the word with derogatory intentions feel about it.

-Ok, lets get back to your writing. Why do you write?

-Ah. Now that is a question I have not been asked before. Very astute. I write because I feel compelled to, I suppose. I was reading and writing by age 4. I wrote my first story when I was 5. I still have it somewhere, my grandmother saved it for me. I have noticed that writing helps me think, helps me organize my thoughts, sometimes even helps to purge my mind. I have a memory for details and a systematizing mind... sometimes I just have to get the stuff out of my head by writing it down.

-I've noticed that what you write tends to be 'sensual' as you noted on your blog, and yet your style is very peculiar. A single entry can contain spiritual, sexual, and psychological elements that are elegantly expressed on the one hand, and dissonantly coarse on the other.

-Yes, this is something several people have pointed out to me. Someone recently told me that my writing is "refined and raw at the same time". Apparently this style of expression tends to keep people off-balance, particularly in person. I'm not quite sure why I communicate this way... perhaps it has something to do with the fact that most people find my voice very soothing, often hypnotic, andmy using an occasional jarring word keeps them awake?

-So your writing style is similar to your conversation style?

-I think so. I suppose you would have to ask my family and friends if the way I converse and the way I write are similar if you want an objective opinion. My speech and my writing are both expressions of the same thing: my thoughts/feelings. While I occasionally filter what I say, I rarely edit what I write. I can say that I do tend to make people shake their heads during conversations. It is not unusual for me to be told I am outrageous.

-Why do you write what you write?

-Why... hmm... I write what I write because it turns me on, and because I hope in sharing it, it will turn others on, perhaps even give them an opportunity to vicariously explore things they otherwise would not experience. What I write on my blog is generally my thoughts on my daily life. When I have the time and a thought that might be worthy of sharing with others, I sit down and write it. Failing that, I write about something most people forget about.

-What is that?

-The sensual immediacy of every day life. I've been told that I seem to experience my senory input more intensely than most people, and that I express it in a way that makes people more aware of the sensuousness of their own lives.

-Ah yes, I should have expected that: your subtitle. So... you write about sexual and sensual topics because... why?

-Because I am a sexual and sensual being. Because we all are, only I seem to be more aware of it myself... Because too many people are hung up on sex. They have made pariahs of their sexual selves, rather than integrating their sexuality into their daily lives. And by that I don't mean daily sex. I mean... hmmm... people are socialized to think that there is a correct time and place to be sexual, and that 'feeling sexy' at any other time is inappropriate. That is bullshit. That is the kind of socialization that creates sexual psychopathology. Feeling sexy, feeling sensual is natural. We are human animals, we have senses and flesh. We evolved to avoid pain and seek pleasure. What sick fuck decided that controlling another's sexuality not only socially but intrapersonally, was a good idea?

-Interesting... so would you say that you consider writing erotic stories and sensual diary entries a sort of public service?

-Heh. I suppose so. My therapist once told me that I have the healthiest attitude towards sex and my sexuality that she had ever come across. It made me sad to realize how many people are so hung up on sex. It made me think. It made me want to change things. Between that and conversations with some friends whose opinions I respect, I decided to 'go public', so to speak.

- That is a good lead in to my next question...How do you chose what writing you will make public?

-I dont really know. I write for me. Anais Nin said " We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection." Sometimes I want to share what I write with a select few, sometimes with the public, sometimes with no one.

-Do you read erotica yourself?

-Oh yes! The first naughty book I was given was Little Birds by Anais Nin. I was perhaps 10. From there I read Delta of Venus, Lady Chatterly's Lover, The French Lieutenants Woman, Twain's 1601, and Janet Morris' Silistra series. As an adult, found and read the Fanny Hill story, Ovid's Art of Love, Anne Rice's Beauty series, and Anne Bishop's Dark Jewels series.

-Why did you start reading it so young?

Well, it was partly environmental. I grew up in a free-love environment. The act of sex was no mystery to me, but the reasons behind it were. Also, where most people have a fundamental desire to be understood, I have a fundamental desire to understand. I wanted to understand what made people want to do that with each other.

-Do you think that having access to erotic material made you more or less likely to be promiscuous growing up?

-Oh less so. But again, 'promiscuous' is one of those pejorative, emotionally- and morally- loaded words. In general, what is considered promiscuous is defined by the society one is in. I am not prone to indiscriminate sex --which is my definition of promiscuity--and I never have been. And since my curiousity about sex was both tickled and satisfied by the material I read in my youth, I wasn't all that interested in 'playing doctor'. I'd seen the real thing often enough, and I'd read enough to understand that it really was something best left to 'grown-ups'.

-Do you sell your erotica?

No. I've not submitted any of my stories to any organizations that pay to publish. A friend has a couple of my audio stories for sale on his site, but I don't think it has enough of a market share to generate many hits. I've been solicited by a few people wanting to work together, etc, but its been a hectic year for me personally, and I've not had much time or energy to put into it. Its been more of a hobby for me, than anything else.

-Do you think you would find more time to write erotica if it was lucrative?

-Of course! Writing and recording erotic stories is quite a lot of fun. They come very easily to me, once I set aside a block of time to write them down. Its just that there are so many other things I like doing, too, and though they don't make money, either, they are much better for my social life :) Seriously though, it would be great to make a living at producing erotic material. I'm too practical to do the starving-writer thing, but I may yet try some e-commerce / e-book / digital download venture -- if I can determine there is a market out there that would pay enough to make the effort worthwhile.

What would you like to see happening in erotica in the next decade?

I'd like to see more material out there for women and couples. Women can be quite raunchy. We like our romantic, sweet, hint-at-but-don't-describe-the-details fiction, but--just as we like to be bent over the couch and fucked hard and fast once in a while--we also like to read hot, steamy stories that make us want to reach into our sex-toy stash and play. And the stuff out there for the general male audience is just too... dry. Or too short. Or too unrealistic. Its funny, I'v had several men contact me, asking for help with their wives. They say their wives are frigid, or reluctant, or too perfuctory in sexual relations, and they wish there was something they could do to make their wives more like me. c Sometimes I recommend sensual massages or discission of fantasies. Sometimes I tell them to try to find a way to introduce their partners to one of my stories, like Check and Mate. Or one of my audios, like Picnic Beneath the Willow. I've heard back from some that the stories have gone over very well, much to their surprise. I think people would be surprised to know how many women would enjoy erotica more if they could find good erotica, with the right balance of romance and raunchiness. So, mainstreaming quality erotica for women and couples is something I would like to see, sometime soon.

And, with that, I've got to call it a night. I'm tired and I've got a long day tomorrow. I hope you don't mind?

-No. I understand. You've given my far more of your time than I had any reason to expect. Thank you.

-My pleasure. May I use a portion of this interview for on my blog? I think it would be interesting reading.

-It is mostly your material... I just asked the questions, so I don't see why not. Sent me the link if you do post?

-Sure. Goodnight!

New erotic story posted

I added a new story with audio to Literotica.

I've gotten some interesting feedback on it, some enthusiastic, saying its my best so far, both highly erotic and soothing, while a couple have sent feedback saying it is prosaic and prurient, the audio sounding contrived.

I am enjoying both sorts of feedback.

This story, "All Five Coins" was a bit of an experiment. Over the past few months I'd gotten feedback asking for more stories and recordings, so I decied to put another one out there. I re-read a lot of the feedback I'd gotten on my various stories, and based on input, based on my knowledge of my 'audience', I wrote and recorded this one. It was a challenge to pare it down to bare essentials, to strip it of everything except what was needed to create an arousing vignette that captured a brief moment in time. There is very little plot, almost no character development. It is all action. The kind of smutty action people read naughty stories for.

It was an interesting experiment, and for the most part, I am pleased with the result. Putting in the beach sounds was an interesting effect to attempt, but I'm getting a handle on the mixing recording software I picked up. And as for the rest of the audio, well, it was fun, but I am definitely not a porn voice-over artist :) I'm a bit embarrassed acting out the sounds of pleasure, etc, and because of that, of course, and because I am reading a story after all, it does sound a bit contrived to me, I will admit. But for all that, it seems to have hit the target I was aiming for.

I will write the next one for a slightly different audience, I think... we'll see.

On bathing and shaving

Sunday night is bath night.

And what a yummy bath I had.... Tonight's soap was a french-milled mandarin and olive-oil, and the oil in the bathwater was lemon-grass, as was the incense. A few candles, a glass of very cold pinot blanc, and a playlist consisting mostly of moroccan music completed this very languid, sensual, and ritual experience.

Sundays and Wednesdays are bath nights, and on bath nights I soak and shave. I may or may not shave my legs, but I always shave my mound bare. And tonight, as I was shaving, I remembered a conversation I had with one of my sisters last week. We both shave. In fact, all three of us do. I knew one of them did, but I did not know that both of them did, not until she asked me for a massage last weekend, and when I said yes, she whipped off her nightie and lay down on the bed, all splendidly golden-skinned and blatantly bare.

And us being sisters and utterly lacking in body-modesty (having grown up as we did in a communal environment in which nudity was the norm) I smiled and commented to her that I did not know that she shaved, too.

As soon as I started growing hair, I began shaving it off. I did not like it. It was unaesthetic to me, both visually, and tactilely. I preferred being bare, and smooth. I realize now, as an adult, that part of it had to do with not wanting to grow up, to enter womanhood, because I knew, even at the tender age of 14, that the two tests for a female being 'old enough' was being 'big enough', and having pubic hair.

When I took my first adult male lover, I was still under-age, and he was more than a decade older. He asked me to let my hair grow in, because seeing me bare made him feel pedophilic. And so I tried. But the hair I grew was so sparse as to make the adjective 'mossy' seem effusive. Disgusted with my sorry excuse of a muff, I shaved it off again. I thought perhaps my shaving had ruined the possibility of me growing a bush, until I talked to my sister.

She, too, grows hair very sparsely.

She, too, likes being smooth and bare, and likes the cleanliness factor as well. We are much less worried about muss and mess during Aunt Flow's monthly visit when we are shaved.

And then there is the sheer sensuality of it. It can be quite arousing, lathering up, running the razor over skin, following it with the sensitive tips of fingers questing, questing, seeking out any roughness that marrs that symphony of smoothness. It is an act of self-love, done to please the self, and no one else, though certainly our partners love the bareness, too.... I makes oral sex so much more pleasant for them--and us :)

Some people react very viscerally to shaving. There are those who think it is pedophilic. There are those who find it erotic, being able to see so clearly that aspect of a woman that has always been shrouded in mystery.

And then there are those who consider shaving their mounds akin to shaving their heads: that removal of their pubic hair is disempowering, as evinced by a conversation I had a few weeks ago... One day after a particularly contemplative bathtime, I logged into the BDSM Social Room on Literotica Chat. Someone asked me how I was, and I said I had been thinking about shaving, and immediately a female asked me "Why, are you owned?" This surprised me. It had not occurred to me that shaving had a part to play in the psychology of Dominance and submission. But after thinking about it, it makes sense. A woman, shaved bare, is utterly exposed, and completely visually accessible--she cannot hide from her Master. Without her shroud of hair, she is stripped of another layer she could hide behind, a layer of resistance to his claim upon her. And so I can see where a Domme would ask me if I was a slave.

But I'm not in the lifestyle. I'm not into Daddy Doms, or playing pre-pubescent games. I have very adult genitalia--there is no doubt that I am a grown woman. I like being shaved because it pleases me to be smooth and bare and clean. And I like my partners to be shaved, or very closely trimmed, too. And after all this thinking about the subject, I've come to the realization that it doesn't matter why I like it. I just do.

Contemplating obstinacy

I've recently been contacted by someone through Literotica. An interesting man, who claims to be an editor, and who insists on calling me a writer, much to my chagrin. We had a bit of an argument about it, which he cut short by changing topics, I think becuase he felt that he, as one who edits writers, knows far better than I what one is. After our conversation ended, I went about making dinner, and as I ate it, thought about what we had discussed. And with a glass of wine in hand, I mailed him this:

You are not the only one who calls me a writer, if it is any consolation to you.

I do not know why I resist the label so. Perhaps it is a habit: I do not care for labels.

Or perhaps it is that writing comes too easily, or that I put so little effort into it. I mean really, I write what I think or feel or see or notice. There is no craft in that, no art, it is merely transcription.

And friends say to me, "Mozart and Beethoven merely transcribed the music playing in their heads. Does that make the label 'composer' less applicable? Does that lessen their genius?"

My answer is that I am no genius. Most days I feel like a fraud for being recognized for saying or writing things that simply 'are' to me. It is like saying Columbus discovered America. When I was a child I said: but it was always there! Why not recognize him for having the courage to test the theory that the world was not flat after all? Its not sexy, that is why.

I write about things that are sexy. Perhaps that is why people call me a writer? I do not know.

As for your feedback, also known as criticism, I welcome it. Truly. If nothing else it sheds light on the contrast between your perception of what a proper ending is, and my intuition that there are no endings, merely transitions from one moment, one state, to the next.

I recently wrote a poem called Compelling Question.
In it, I mention that another's consciousness is impenetrable. But it does not stop us from seeking to penetrate, to possess that other. Perhaps because I express my consciousness well, people find me more accessible, find the mystery of the other more accessible, and grasp at it. We are all so powerfully driven by the awareness, conscious or not, that we are alone, and not only that, but by the knowledge that the only certainty in life is that we will end, and we will end alone. And yet, there is a commonality, a universality to all experience, to all perceptions of reality, and in that, we are not alone. We find ourselves touched by the echoes of another's pain or self-awareness--their creative expression of it--and through it we can vicariously experience the other, or feel that they have experienced us, and know, for that moment, that we are not as alone as we felt. But people are not content to let the moment happen, and flow into the next, not if it means the possible loss of that shared consciousness. They do not want it to move on, and leave them solitary again. And so they cling to it, they close their hands about it, and forget the lesson of childhood: If you clutch the butterfly tightly in your hand so it will not fly away, you destroy the butterfly.

I think. Perhaps the better label is 'thinker'. I am a thinker. But applying that label to myself would seem vain, yes?

Better yet, call me a self-aware, self-conscious babbler.
That is a label I will not argue with :)

Kay

The irony of the above is that it is written in response not only to him, but also to CD, my friend and mentor and ardent, loving admirer, who also calls me a writer, and whose encouragement on my writing I so roundly rejected this morning. Sorry, CD.

Anonymous Literotica Feedback

This feedback was sent by: Anonymous
Comments:
Does your face match the Silken Voice? Does your quick intellect match the hint of impatience in your stories? What are the colors of your spirit and passion and mind? Does writing soothe the wounds from the slings and arrows of this life? The reader cannot help but wonder Who you are and Where you are going. thank you, KR.

To your first question I say:
Alas, no.
Would it be fair
if I had face to launch a thousand ships
in addition to a voice that can harden a thousand cocks
a libido strong enough to enchant a thousand men
an intellect sharper than a thousand blades
and Sheherazade's capacity for a thousand and one stories?
I am what I am
plain of face
neither beautiful nor ugly.
I prefer it that way.
Beauty has its price
and there are those who pay for it
all their lives.

Writing about fucking

A fellow writer at Literotica asked me to read and give feedback on his stories. And so I did. One was excellent, one was very good, one was better than average. When he wrote me back, thanking me for my comments, he said something that sparked a response in me. He said:

I am not interested in writing about fucking. The role that sex plays in who we are, who we think we are, who we want to be - these are the issues that intrigue me. A natural and instictive act that some take as a mere matter of pleasure is so much more critical and powerful in terms of our self image. Hell, our very survival.

To which I responded, in a rather lengthy email as follows:

Sex. It is central to our lives because it is as fundamental a compulsion as the need to eat, or piss, or think. We are programmed to need it, because it is how we perpetuate our species. But we are also addicted to it because it feels so damned good. Its the pleasure principle.

I am polyamorous by nature and nurture--I grew up on a hippie commune of sorts and had no idea that for most people 'marriage' meant monogamy--in childhood it was not uncommon for me to see my parents in bed with someone else, or with multiple partners. Thus the possessive exclusivity of monogamous marriage is something that I neither understand, nor tolerate. I have never married, and doubt I ever will.

Men like the idea of me, or women like me, but the reality makes them doubt their manhood. I am neither insatiable nor promiscuous, but I am sensually aware of nearly every moment--and since most people do not understand the difference between sensual and sexual--eventually my partners awaken to an ego-involved realization that they are not 'enough' for me, and not only that, but something deep inside them wanted to be the one who could be. And so it goes.

Thus, my perception of sexuality is not only skewed for a member of my society, but also skewed for a woman. I like sex. I am unashamedly carnal. I like spending hours in bed with my lover, exploring each other, driving each other, attentive to the moment and his or her needs as they arise. I like going on walks, leaning over a park bench, and asking my lover to fuck me hard and fast, before someone comes along. I love being bound, I love the feel of a cock in my mouth and the scent of ball musk. I love sucking pussy, the feel of a woman's thighs pressed against my cheeks, the sound of moans erupting from her. I love the feel of a cock sliding in and out of my ass while I'm riding the magic wand on my clit. I love speeding down the highway with my lover in the driver's seat and me with my feet up on the dash, playing with myself, perfuming the air with my scent and my cries... and then switching, me driving while he uses my vibrator on his cock, talking to him, egging him on toward orgasm, and all the while, people in their SUV's and trucks looking on, eyes wide, silly grins on their faces, passing us with a thumbs up in their rear-view mirrors.

I am not twisted up about sex like most people, obviously. And so I can write about it with child-like enthusiasm and delight--with the same delight most people wish they could experience. And that is the need I feed with my stories... the need for pure sensuality and joy in one's sensual self. Do I write just about fucking? I think so. I create the setting, and then I write, as evocatively as possible, about the actions, the sensations, the thoughts and emotions that occur between the lovers in that scene. That occur the way the should occur--and would--if our thoughts and fears and egos and socialization did not get in the way.

I wonder if he will understand what I mean?