Hello friends!
So I wanted to take a break from writing essays about feminism and sex and slut theories to talk about what’s going on my side of the computer… with a focus on my e-book in particular.
I do have an e-book available for purchase, and it’s only a dollar! Not bad, eh? Well, currently I’ve finished an expanded version, adding about 20 new short stories (:-0) I know! I’m through the second draft of about 20 or so of them and I just have about 10 more to revise! I don’t know if that seems like more than I make it out to be or what, but I’m not writing anymore and I’ve moved on to a whole new process… one that’s a step closer to getting that sucker published!
And yes it will be published. But I do want to keep a multimedia version available online for purchase. It will include some new photographs I’ve taken, one of which I’ve included up below! Hope you enjoy 
I also hope you enjoy this excerpt from one of the completed drafts. This chapter took the original idea from my sporfucking Post nd expanded to a few thousand words. It’s nothing like the original post! Rewriting these pieces are cathartic because I begin to remember details that I can now talk about and imagine… hmmm… I really like the result, but I won’t give you too much of it now! I need to keep my stories slightly elusive! Here’s a taste of it for now.
There was fight between us. We both dominated over one another, tightly gripping limbs and pinning each other down until we were exhausted. He was so well endowed that he had to take his time with me. When he inched a little too deep, I buried my short, crooked nails deep into his skin until he receded. And we did this back and forth for a while, an endless mode of tension that forced our bodies to flail out of sheer impatience. And it dared him to defy my own limitations for the sake of it. And he did. And I let him because I desperately wanted to become full. So insatiable, out of sheer thankfulness, I wanted to prove to him that I could take as much as he wanted to give me. To me, this is the epitome of sport fucking. It’s not how many people one can fuck at any given moment. It’s about the harmonious and necessary fight that occurs behind closed doors. Love takes a different shape, perhaps love of friction, love of restraint. Perhaps the same love a runner feels for the miles ahead of her, though she knows that some fight is required. Same love a fighter feels for the game despite the detrimental blows. Even when it pained me, I breathed it out, the same way I would when an orgasm was too intense. Anyway, I continued to move my hips underneath him, gracefully arching my back so I could make my pussy more receptive. I whimpered with each deeper thrust and he shook violently when I swallowed him whole.
Going to get your book ASAP.