Posts Tagged ‘erotica’

The Difference Between Boys and Girls:

June 11, 2020




Prototype cover without the dogs & title.

We are slowly returning to the new normal in the metro Chicago area. At the kennel, we have clients—like the old man who saw the note on the door (we saw him from our security cameras) about not coming into the lobby but calling us to come out to fetch the dog (we’re in stage 2 of Covid19 new reality), but who came in anyway.  You know the guy:  old, bald, wearing baggy shorts but he has chicken legs…and those who won’t come in and want to know if we wash our hands after every dog & are wearing masks inside, and if they have to rewash their dog when they get it home (you know, because of ‘germs’…). We have all had it.  There’s a lot going on, and we still don’t know if the kennel business can survive.

In times of stress, I turn to Freddie  Mercury:  this particular vocal performance, and the images his bandmates chose with videographers to pander to the fans:  Roger Taylor’s clear blue eyes, Freddies many changing looks over time. 

I also love this: a piece:  Liz Storey doing her ‘Toy Soldiers’, also new age & soulful.

This online dating thing it’s replaced dog training for the time being. I’ve been corresponding with several men who may or may not be scammers ( or are not who they  say they are in some way.  So many mining engineers. There must be a scammers template somewhere…)  All are foreign-born but now legal residents (so they say) and all are entrepreneurs. I addressed this in my last blog post.

 I am picky. I want what I want. I do not have to settle:  I invented the sexiest, patient, most talented man in the world. I don’t need a man to take care of me. I want a companion who is good in bed who I enjoy looking at. I’ve never really had the kind of ‘shared interests’ relationship with a man. My ex-husband a long time ago was the last.  Shared interest was our left of center politics.   The bottom line, I do not intend to be sexual with a man working against my best interests—-who supports Christianity & makes excuses for it & tries to justify why he’s Christian but doesn’t believe…whatever. I want someone who shares my political leanings and interests. My masters is in public policy! Of course, I have an opinion!

I want to get lost in dark eyes. I’ve looked into blue eyes.  I want facial hair and body hair. I want my lover to feel like an adult. If all those girls told you they wanted you shaved, where are they now?

 You’ve got to weed out thousands of guys with a series of screening questions and consider physical chemistry, and the location is important. All these guys always want to get to know you via writing–the internet.   I know from experience ( because Craig and I corresponded for 2 years) there is nothing that replaces being physically together.    Our interests diverged, and I realized he didn’t handle money the same way I did. That was as serious as any other issue. a  But we had been together physically. It wasn’t like I was writing to a stranger. For some reason, there is this phenomenon that they immediately think they love you before we have ever met, and that is extremely disturbing to me.

So, these guys, who are now, of course, stuck outside the country (& isn’t the whole Covid19 excuse perfect for the resident alien not being let back in to the USA by Trump), couldn’t possibly really think they’re in love, could they?   A few guys have pitched for an emotional commitment, almost as though they are looking for a mail-order bride. This guy wanted me to trust him–on faith alone. I had to remind him that I had none—this doesn’t work for me.  I guess, however, it works often enough.

Well, maybe I should not be so skeptical …so I have to put a time limit on this separation due to whatever bad luck thing is the cause.  I have time to address religion, financial stability, and yes, sexual expectations. I have to quickly determine what they want, and if they understand what I want, so I have to ask many very personal questions to directly get to what I want.  If you have read my past blogs, you know the Muse was very entertaining over the phone and by text.  He was so detailed in what he wanted.  The idea, when we met, that he told me he didn’t actually expect me to do any of it…just broke my heart.  He didn’t understand the difference between fantasy and reality and was willing to go with fantasy until it became a reality. And clearly, all these correspondents find me entertaining.  THAT IS NOT REALITY!

Here’s the difference between boys and girls: girls respect boundaries.   Because I respect my roommate’s boundaries, we’ve lived together in relative peace for about 20 years.

Lots of men don’t understand the concept of platonic.   Nor do they understand responsibility or integrity. The quarantine is over & now it’s time to meet, and see if there is chemistry. If they can’t give me a time frame, I have to start over. 

Update:  1 of these guys, who lost his wallet and says he can’t get a new credit card (he has internet access but can’t find a phone…LOL) has finally—after about 4 weeks, asked for money.





I’ve Kissed Way Too Many Frogs…..

May 15, 2020

A waste of masculinity.

I’ve been on various dating sites for about a year. I told myself I would give it a year…and the results have been worse than ‘not good’. They’ve been awful. It’s just with the internet, you meet more awful men more quickly. 

First of all…there are scammers: they steal photos off Google or Facebook, prowl (or troll, whatever term you prefer), find a mark, and they love you and you are just what they are looking for. It’s easy to spot them: their English is either very bad or of the European English variety. They also profess love and pour out the same story: wife died, they have a teenage daughter. She is living with a relative in Europe, He came to America for work. Je doesn’t drink,  came upon your photo….& apparently, women believe this & without ever meeting them….send them money.

Some of them go to elaborate procedures, but they don’t realize that there are ways to determine who is real. In Chicago, everyone lives in a neighborhood. If you don’t know your neighborhood (or the default is ‘downtown’), forget it. Then, they seem to forget that you can google & reverse lookup phone numbers. 1 idiot actually gave a phone number to an escort service.

The scammers are not the worst. The worst are the men who just look at photos and don’t read your profile. They just see boobs. Then there are the guys who pose with grandchildren, a dog, or a fish they caught.  I don’t know you. I don’t want to see your grandkids, and if the dog isn’t a sighthound, well, I’m glad you’re a dog lover, but that’s not enough.  Especially if you have some sort of designer dog. Please, no. Not into fishing, either.

There are always men who don’t think your values should be of any concern. Some will tell you straight out they are stepping out on their (sick) wives. Lots of guys looking for friends with benefits, but they offer no benefits.

How was it before the internet? Most of my friends know that I met my husband in high school. We were together maybe 8 weeks before his parents moved across the country, and we corresponded. Craig was very sexually adventurous. I would have never learned to engage in oral sex were it not for him. I really believe that you have to start young, as a teenager, or you become too inhibited. If I can thank him for anything, I can thank him for that. I barely dated and certainly didn’t engage in anything intensively sexual for most of the rest of high school until we were together on holidays. I just didn’t meet that many guys worth the bother.

When we were living together, I came very close to cheating a couple of times, but it didn’t happen.  He did, though. & then we were divorced. When I finally met Tony, I thought things would get better. Tony was great, but he told me right from the start that he was recently divorced and not prepared for a ‘relationship’, and it was clear he was juggling women. I didn’t like it, but 2 can play. When he invited me to Robert’s sauna (he had hired Robert to give lectures at the museum), he practically handed me over to him.    He said I had no sense of propriety. As though it was proper to display me to a colleague.  He then, without my permission, gave my phone number to Robert, and I started seeing Robert.  Robert was nothing great, but he wasn’t Tony, and he was appreciative. In fact, the first time we had sex, he asked me to leave the lights on because—he told me—I was the most beautiful woman he had ever been with.   Yeah, I was really a hot babe when I was young.  Tony got angry with me for spending time with Robert. I thought things then would be better with Tony (He actually said to me, “You know how I feel about you.” What a joke. What I knew was he was ambivalent and didn’t care.). I learned I wasn’t wrong because he went to see his parents over Christmas, and THEN, New Year’s Eve, went with his friends. Not with me.    We could have gone to both parties! He didn’t want a date at a party. Is that not clear?

Should I list all the bad experiences? Going out to dinner with guys I knew I had nothing in common with and wasn’t attracted to at all. Friends remember Les, who came to take me out to dinner (he had volunteered to be an ESL tutor for my project) and then felt he was so lucky that I was ‘so beautiful’ that we never got out the door. We didn’t go to eat. I just listened to him say how lucky he was….for two hours. Les was an adjunct. Not a bad looking guy. He wanted to be an actor and a comedian and still lived ‘in the family home’—with his parents.

Mark, whom my tenant, Al, introduced me to as divorced….was not even separated from his wife. He was so funny. I continued to see him for the funny even though I would not be sexual with him.

Then more single dates…  lots of aggressive men who really believe they will give you a good time( )until Jon, the mass communications major who couldn’t think what to say to me. He was also so attractive, and I seduced him…but…nothing. Then a few people remember Chisanga. He was a Ph.D. candidate in political science at Northwestern. I met him at the African students’ party (after Mawba committed suicide—that was a shocking and rough time…end of 1985). African men: you can’t teach them anything. I went through a series of them. They have no idea what they’re doing, They develop bad habits when young and apparently a lot of women let them get away with it. Then James….another total waste of time. He set up the boundaries early. We always had plenty to talk about, but he knew exactly what he wanted and didn’t want.

Amadou…thanks to Baidoo, I let that go on way too long. I think we had sex twice. What was going on in his mind? He wanted to be self-employed but was just too stupid. That’s the truth. He used to steal from me. He thought I didn’t know. After 3 months, I just refused to see him. What was really funny was that after we hadn’t seen each other in several months, I came home 1 day to a message on the answering machine. His car had broken down somewhere on I-80 & he wanted me to pick him up. I had been out most of the day, so I have no idea when he called…or where he was—not that I would have gone to fetch him. He used up all that goodwill. Baidoo told me I was wrong, but when Amadou stole from Baidoo’s girlfriend, he believed me.

When Kunihiro came to live with me, I thought I had hit the jackpot. What a sweet man. But I learned he was from the generation of Japanese men known to be part of sekkusu shinai shokogun. For whatever reason, they have found that dealing with women for sex is such a fraught experience, that they don’t do it. What a waste of physical masculinity! But—-and this is what is very important—-because I like him so much as a person, I respect his boundaries and we have lived together in relative peace for over 20 years. Who would have believed it?

Not to lose hope, I wanted a sex life after writing my own erotic fantasy, so I joined all these dating sites and ended up actually meeting—–face-to-face— 5 men. I Iranian guy who just wanted a regular lay but although he lived near Wrigley, he wouldn’t come up to Rogers Park. 1 guy was a sapiophile who had gotten himself into so much debt I didn’t think he’d ever recover, as funny and smart as he was. 1 guy not only did not read my profile, he lied about it. His photo had to be way over 10 years old or retouched, and he was Catholic. Catholic! What a waste of time! The Iranian guy in his 30’s, who lived across the street. How sweet to be told that I didn’t look that old, but he was worse than any 14-year-old boy I had ever encountered. What an asshole. After pretty much attacking me—I did not allow rape to happen, he had the nerve the next day to ask to see me again! Then George, several weeks ago who told me a guy owned him several hundred dollars and he was having trouble collecting. He was also a professional poker player, but he paid his rent in cash. He had no credit cards, no savings, no nothing. Just what I need. I was pleasant.  I practice being pleasant because my friends know that I have a low threshold for bullshit.

This handsome young guy, whose photo I stared at forever, came across my feed.   I just said to myself, “A shame, too young.”  Then he messaged me because he wants steady and regular sex with a woman my age. But he told me his boundaries quickly:  nobody spends the night, he never spends the night. Yet he wants to be told he is loved. I had nothing to lose. We actually had a text ‘discussion’ (oh, the modern world) about…body hair.  He texted me that he was ready for me last week. I texted him to not shave (I  like a guy with facial hair. Like someone told Freddie Mercury,” I don’t date a guy who doesn’t have a mustache…”).  He told me he had shaved his body.  OMG…why?  He said it’s for hygiene, …and girls like it.  Not this girl. This girl wants her sex partner to look, feel, and smell like an adult.    How often do I turn to Freddie dancing around with light on his chest hair? (FYI—a good glimpse :   2:01—2:05 & 4:54—5:00, 5: 50—5:24)?  So I put it to him plain:  I am making a lot of compromises to be with him under his terms, and for me, his body hair adds to my sexual experience.  I couldn’t believe we had to address this, but this was NOT a romance. This was a planned sexual encounter.  I guess I had to spell that out for him, too. He has set the terms and I acquiesced to his terms.  He wanted to be loved.   Maybe no other sexual partner has ever verbalized why she was unhappy, why she left, but I have no problem with this.  I have sought out, by elimination and not being overly descriptive in my profile online that I didn’t want a Christian—not only for the baggage that comes along with asking a deity for forgiveness but because I didn’t want a pasty European guy. But I also, in so many words, wanted a  partner who had experienced what I had experienced in society:  being an other.  Does he really think he’s been assimilated and accepted? Do these guys want him dating their sisters?  Clearly, he’s had enough profound disappointment to reach out to strangers….as I have.  On the 1 to 10 vulnerability scale, this is about a 4.   Allowing a woman to sleep with you, so you can so subconsciously smell and feel her all night, so when you wake up hard, you can reach for her and make love—have intercourse without talking, or wake up in the morning—hard—and have a woman ready for you…why would you avoid that? That’s love.  Telling a woman after you ejaculate that you love her.  That’s just immaturity.

I  had a feeling he was more talk than action. He really didn’t understand that the fantasies you have in your mind, or that you experience via media may not feel the same in real life.  He was so explicit.  Not going into lurid details now—I’m putting them into a book and have people pay to read it, but I did something he asked me to do, and he clearly wasn’t enjoying it.  When I asked him what was wrong, since he had asked for this, he said, “I never expected you to do it.”  To me, that is so sad.  & now he won’t talk to me because he is so embarrassed about failing me and takes full blame and we can’t talk it out anyway because it’s Ramadan.

But, although I didn’t nearly get what I had hoped for (-I could just tell by how he expressed himself that he was another ‘wrong planet’ emigre), there was something I can enjoy in my own fantasies;  the feel of his beard, his arms, and his chest.  He was the best thing I’ve felt in over 20 years.

Of course, I am not settling for that. I  hope in the future I will hear him on the phone again…but I am starting out now to cultivate the next victim.I’ve recently had text conversations with  4 men and have actually talked to three.   a

At least two are looking for marriage.  Like my Muse, I’m happy with my life, except for this one thing…


Integrity. What does it mean to act with integrity? Is integrity the same in Africa and the United States? Is it telling the truth? Being fair? Not doing harm? Being accountable to your community? Do lovers owe each other integrity? Do they owe integrity to those around them?

Daler, a Sikh teenager, and Amara, an American Jewess in her early twenties, met due to family connections. They are brought together when Daler is asked to escort Amara on a brief trip in Africa. Then, due to circumstances, they don’t see each other for twenty years. Daler an engineer who falls into being a rock star is sure he’s in love, but Amara, a dog groomer and trainer, is more pragmatic. Their lives are so different.

Amara sees herself as a polyandress, if not necessarily by choice.

Daler thinks they have something special…or do they? Will cultural differences define who they are to each other? Can their relationship work?

by Robyn Michaels


In stores now!





May 7, 2020

Some people who disregard what I’ve written because it’s…smut. But is it?  When Ann Patchett wrote Truth and Beauty, about her relationship with the writer Lucy Grealy (who wrote ‘Autobiography of a Face’), she didn’t consider it controversial, but the truth.  Yet,  a bunch of protesters, who hadn’t actually read either book, demonstrated against Patchett being allowed to speak at Clemson University because she wrote about ‘the love between two women’. Yes, Patchett did write about the love she had for Lucy, and how Lucy had coped with so much physical pain and romantic rejection. Patchett even wrote about Lucy’s bad choices, including drugs and sexual promiscuity, but there is nothing salacious about Patchett’s book. That’s the problem when Christian men get hold of something & turn it into something else to discredit or debase women. The men remain credible, and the women have to defend themselves.  In any case, what I write is being judged by the larger Christian community.

I am going to defend my choices.  I became acquainted with an attractive man through a dating site.  He seems honest. We haven’t actually met. There are some things that aren’t quite right.  He’s Catholic, and as I’ve said many times, you can’t have it both ways.  Over the past week, he’s tried to find out more about me, and he has asked some interesting questions.  However, in a recent text chat, he mentioned me to his daughter and had her text me.   I just can’t imagine why a man would do that.  If I had kids, I wouldn’t have them meet anyone I didn’t know until I really knew them.

Our actual conversations haven’t been totally clear because of the audio quality of both our phones.   He now has Covid19, is very discouraged and not feeling well (but not bad enough off to be hospitalized).  I asked him what it was he actually did for a living. He lives in a very upscale community, so he must be paid well (he had also asked me if I invested).  He told me he sold mining and drilling equipment. When I asked him, he affirmed that yes, he sold fracking equipment. He was reluctant to explain how he justified helping greedy people ruin the global fresh water supplies just to make money. He said to me, “Don’t judge.”

  I am not rich, but I’ve been able to carve out economic security for myself while not having to compromise my values, for the most part. It’s been tough. A few times I took work for pay doing things I was not comfortable with, but I didn’t make a career out of compromising my values.  I worked for less than a week for a man who resold dogs from puppy mills. He lied to buyers that they were raised by families. Sure, the Amish are families—but make no mistake: puppies are a cash crop to them, like any other livestock. I just couldn’t do it. I am a purebred dog fancier. Ethical hobby breeders who love their dogs don’t sell puppies to be resold. They want to meet the people who say they want puppies.

I’ve worked for veterinarians who lied about how much playtime day boarding dogs got, and how much time dogs spent in cages, especially overnight in their own filth because they didn’t want to pay an overnight person to let the dogs out. I’ve even worked for one who told people he would euthanize a dog, and kept it as a blood donor! I’ve worked for dog daycare owners who didn’t train their staff and allowed dogs to be bullied and harassed, or isolated with no playtime. People whose friends found dogs that were lost, and, instead of searching for the owner, or seeing if the dog was chipped, kept the dog for themselves or resold it.

I’ve groomed dogs for ‘no-kill’ dog rescues that lied about dogs being good with kids, or housebroken.

Briefly, I sold timeshares for a company until I learned that, because they were resellers, most of the buyers had a terrible time booking the weeks they had paid for.

I have many Catholic friends. Most have lapsed.  They lapse for the same reasons I   address in my writing:  a religion that has managed to sustain itself by protecting leaders—and that’s what the church hierarchy is—who have acted for their own best interests, while not just misleading followers, but protecting stronger people who have exploited their flocks.  It’s 1 thing to be culturally Catholic, and another to continue to support these hypocritical people because it’s comfortable and you think it benefits yourself.

I wondered for a long time if I was really out of the mainstream. Having these questions led me to study cultural anthropology. I had a unique instructor who assigned books written by Africans, and that’s where I discovered Chinua Achebe’s books, particularly Things Fall Apart.

So now, I am being confronted, and that is the term, by potential lovers who haven’t ever addressed that they’re characterizing themselves as Catholic. I’ve had the conversation with a few Christians who have denied that this is how it is—but this is how it appears; once you have admitted that you are not perfect, you can make the wrong choice. Then, you ask Jesus for forgiveness, and you can get into Heaven. You can attain salvation even though you knew what the right choice was but chose to do the wrong thing anyway.

Having been an environmentalist…evolving from being a teenaged tree hugger into someone who understood the scientific ramifications of protecting or stewarding the natural environment (or not), I try to act on what I believe.  I helped found one of the first community-based recycling centers in the country. I have lived in places where getting fresh water was a daily struggle. I don’t think I could make the wrong choice and then ask a deity to forgive me. I have no savior. Nobody would get me into their heaven. I could not live with a wrong choice to just make money. This is what Trump and the GOP are doing now.

Yet, that is what I am being confronted with. I am being asked to overlook or discard the fact that a potential lover helps people poison the environment. Does he think there is an ‘away’? That what he does two miles down the road, or on another continent, won’t affect him and his children? I’m waiting for an answer. but, for now, I have to step back. I can’t be giving (or receiving) sexual pleasure from a man who does this, and that was the whole point of trying to get to know him. I am very disappointed. Such is life.

Why I Write Erotica

January 18, 2020

From the Museum of Erotic Art in Barcelona Spain

Me—from a pose in the 1980s. Justin Goh did the background.

I’ve always been a decent writer.  I wrote to my boyfriend before he became my husband (he moved away 8 weeks after we started going together), I wrote to a guy who I wanted to be my boyfriend, who, in spite of the sex, never was.

Then, when I decided I had some actual ideas, I started writing about dogs.  Not stories, more journalistic nonfiction stuff.  I even got paid, which was encouraging.

I’m a girl and was raised to seek approval. I was never good enough. That might be generational, to raise girls to not have an ego & think they are not as worthy as boys. I’m not sure.  Encouragement is always appreciated.  I got the most encouragement grooming dogs.

I was in my 40’s and I suddenly had to start dealing with bullies.  Oh, we didn’t call them that about 20 years ago.  If it wasn’t sexual harassment, it didn’t really count (men are supposed to be assholes to girls).  But it DID count.  It’s just that we still allow men to decide what counts.

So, I was in my 50s when I started working for Bruce Blaine, at Best Friends Chicago, who was really condescending and verbally abusive.  In fact, before I started working for him, a friend who trained dogs with a dog trainer at this business told her she wouldn’t want to be caught alone in the building with Bruce.

I sucked it up, but finally complained to human resources. They sent another manager to keep an eye on him, and he’d behave for a few days, then go back to being a bully.  Nothing was ever done, so I quit working for Best Friends Pet Care.  They ultimately sold their entire business rather than deal with managers.

Because this bully Bruce would not give me a reference, I could not account for over a year of my employment.  I had trouble finding other work. In fact,  some people lured me to a new business, claiming they had enough to employ me. They didn’t.  It’s legal to lie.  I was desperate. I applied for a job I saw posted on Craigslist, offered by a guy named Dan London. His business was “Doggie Bath House’.  His only dog experience was walking dogs at a kennel, but everyone wants to be in the pet business and thinks there is nothing you have to know. There isn’t. Entry to the industry is easy.  I am not changing his name because he is still out there. I refused to work for him because he didn’t have enough dog experience and I knew he would not be in business long, He lasted about a year. but during that time, he decided that if I wasn’t going to make money for him, I’d make money for nobody. He had my resume & started harassing other businesses, & posting fake reviews on Yelp! He’d post that he toured (a business) & saw me beating a dog!  Now, how would he know my name?  But Yelp! let him do this. That’s Yelp!  You can’t trust Yelp!  He’s posted that I am mentally unstable.  Totally legal.  & he’s a guy, so he must be credible.

On the internet, ‘nobody knows you’re a dog (or an asshole…)’.  I actually met other groomers who had worked for him and whom he had not paid. They told me he hated me. He might not have had dog experience, but he had internet & bullying experience.  He posted all over the country, on Craigslist—-which you can do for free—and told people to call my employer (at the time, it was Paradise4Paws, an  up and coming dog care business) and have me fired. They got so much harassment, they did fired me.  Even though Saq Nadeem knew who was doing the harassing.

Friends told me to blog.   For over 10 years I have—–  about my ‘disparate interests’.  I am not widely read, but much of what  I’ve written has been shared.

Along the way, I stopped being sexual with a man I had been very attracted to, both physically and socially.  He had made it very clear that I was just not worth any sort of respect or commitment.

At the time, I was thinking mediocre sex was better than no sex at all.  I’ve since changed my mind.

There could be many reasons for why the sex was not better, but the bottom line is really that if the man doesn’t care, there is nothing you can do. HE IS NOT INTERESTED.

Actually, it wasn’t a conscious decision to give up sex.  It was conscious to stop seeing a mediocre sex partner who was totally unreliable.

I wasn’t meeting any worthwhile men, either. My grandmothers told me to find a man to keep me in the style to which I would like to become accustomed.  For a woman to put herself out there and risk pregnancy and disease, I just couldn’t see it.

Worse,  in my industry—-the pet industry—-the few men who are out there are gay.  What about other aspects of my life?

When I was in the Peace Corps most were younger, and the ones my age had the same issues with me:  old, fat, loud, opinionated.

Freddie Mercury, can you find me Somebody to Love?

I started looking at Match & Plenty of Fish (and even a few sites aimed at Jews). Guys my age either look like my grandfather or are looking for ‘a nurse and a purse’, or are Christian (I am a secular Jew and have a moral compass, thank you), or can’t keep me in the style to which I would like to become accustomed.

Ok, so, say we do get a guy past the hurdles: he’s got full dentition, not Christian, has a quick wit, likes dogs, can keep me in the style, blah blah.  Great. But what kind of chance do I have to take to find out if the guy is a decent lay?  Decent? I need better than decent.  You can’t write erotica without knowing what you’re talking about.

How did this actually happen?

The truth is, I wanted to write about integrity.  I am a dog fancier.  There are a lot of different breeds of dogs out there.  The reason there are so many distinct breeds is because  people want dogs to meet certain needs,  To get consistency, you need predictability, and to get predictability, you need to have the INTEGRITY to choose only the best dogs to breed.

In 10 years, there probably won’t be any Doodles, Pomskys, or Puggles, but there will be Whippets, Gordon Setters, Borzoi, Briards, and Dandie Dinmont Terriers…because of breeders with integrity.

So wait—-what? what does dog breeding have to do with erotica?

Not a thing.  But who wants to read about integrity?

Nobody. But dog lovers do want to read about good sex. So, I had my first character be a dog groomer who had good sex, and turned it into a storyline.

All the erotica/love stories are fantasies. They are contrived but made plausible.

There was another reason I did this. At the time I started thinking about how to do this, my father, in his 90’s, was badly injured in a fall.  He broke his neck and his femur. He was lucky he wasn’t paralyzed.  He did recover if you could call it that, but it was the end of his freedom because he refused to NOT walk, and continued to fall as soon as he could get up.  He had to go into a nursing home.

It was more complicated, because, my father had been bankrolling my brother’s drug addiction. He had been doing this for over  30 years.  Suddenly, the ‘bank of Dad’ was closed, and my brother was making his situation worse. He rented a car and had an accident and fled the scene. He hadn’t paid any of his utility bills and was living without running water, heat, electricity, or a phone, He lied to my sister about all this.

Rehab is a joke.  It’s a scam the way  it is marketed in this country. Families want it to work, but doesn’t unless the addict is motivated. Why should people get clean  as long as the families refuse to let them die?

That’s as far as I will go on this tangent.  It was really more interesting, but we were dealing with the stress of family dynamics. My father, in spite of his three daughters begging, nagging, cajoling him to NOT give my brother money, continued to because 1 son is worth way more than 3 daughters.

Michael Douglas also gave his son Cameron money to be a drug addict. That is what fathers do.

Face it, everyone. When someone decides to take opioids not because a physician prescribed them for physical pain, but because they are lazy, self-indulgent entitled assholes (like the flakes with untrained emotional support animals—the reason I think psychologists/psychiatrists have too much sway) nothing will fix them.  Only 30% of addicts ever totally recover  (meaning stay sober over five years), and that is because they are motivated. It usually takes them several tries, too. Most are not motivated.  They can’t live alone or be trusted with money.  I wish we could expatriate them to less developed countries where they’d have to learn a language and work or die.

I won’t go into the gruesome details of how bad it got, but my sister did get him involuntarily committed to rehab (for at least the 4th time)  This is a guy with an RPh and a DVM who chose self-indulgence.   He continues to tell us he is smarter than us all.  But…because my sister didn’t want my stepbrother or sisters judging us if they read my blog, they asked me to not write about my brother.

I had a lot of stuff on my plate.  This situation with my brother is terribly discouraging, and my father’s situation is terrible. So, that’s why I decided to write erotica.  I mean, who cares what anyone thinks?

But several people have asked me now how I came up with the sex scenes.

The short, true answer is you write what you know.  I did not have very much mind-blowing sex, but apparently what I did have made a vivid impact.  That’s what good sex is.

What I am writing about are issues that concern me, and that I confront often. That’s the other reason I decided to write.  It’s good therapy to actually express my ideas and beliefs, and as you get older, time is of the essence.  Is is true to the genre…each book has a story.  But this also looks like this is the closest I will come to the topic of sex for a very long time.


A bit of an Experiment….

January 16, 2020

Many of my friends know that I worked as a figure model for years. I did this for about eight years, until I got into graduate school. At the time I started, during the Reagan years, the economy was very bad. I could not find enough dog grooming work. We’d have several days of rain, and there went my income. I started working for art ‘workshops’. These are ‘classes’ usually where there is an instructor, but sometimes, it’s just a bunch of artists getting together to draw or paint. From other models, I learned who to call to get fired. It’s a lot of schlepping, and if you work for a school, u you aren’t paid the day you work. The instructor has to submit a purchase order. But I earned money and kept myself al float.

When I got an assistantship to grad school, I stopped seeking assignments, and my life went on.

The pose above was one I set up, but the actual background was terrible. I paid an artist to manipulate the photo and make the picture more aesthetic. It is for the cover of a book that will be published shortly: “Polyandress.”

What’s it Worth?

April 27, 2019

I’ve been amusing myself writing erotica. If you had told me even six months ago I would be doing this, I would have laughed at you and said, “Hardly likely.” Sometimes I embarrass myself and I have to stop before I begin typing. It’s not that my imagination is that vivid. It’s that my memory is.

I think a lot of us who write in the genre have something to say aside from the fact that we know what good sex is. I know I put up with some crappy behavior from the men who provided me with good sex. But nobody wants to read about the reality of that.

Then just about everybody got a cell phone, and…

In the December 2018 issue of The Atlantic (, writer Kate Julian explored why younger people are having fewer sexual encounters and relationships than in the past. At least that’s how it is in the developed world. In the less developed world, men are still exploiting women, and women are still acquiescing. In the post-industrial countries, not just due to AIDS, but also due to how much time people are now glued to their phones and devices, people are having less physical contact.

In the late 1980’s, I read an essay written by an architect about how interaction between people was becoming more fleeting and trivialized. His solution was making housing in communities more structured in a way that your neighbors could see you if you were at home, and visit you if you were in your public rooms—like a living room. They’d see you through your windows. No privacy unless you went to some length to achieve it—like going into private rooms. His solution was architectural, not really social. In fact, the essay was written in the decades before social media was even a thought.

Fleeting social encounters? In China now, there are internet stars that do nothing other than live stream their lives doing mundane things…and they have fans. I was sort of bemused that people would watch shows like the Osbornes or Keeping up with the Kardashians. Didn’t anyone learn anything when TV cameras followed the Loud family ( Https:// ) around in the 1970s? Is your life that boring that you think watching other people do nothing that it’s better than…actually living your own life? I am also amazed that people think it’s cool to have Alexas or Siri in their homes spying on them. Well… according to the Atlantic, they aren’t having sex. I’m not sure I understand.

What got me thinking was an incident I recalled a good friend telling me about over four decades ago. Her roommate had started seeing this guy she had met (where ever…it was in a public place. She was not introduced by mutual friends). The roommate complained to my friend that she was seeing so much of this guy that she wasn’t able to get her laundry done.

My friend asked her roommate, “Doesn’t he have a laundry room in his building?” and the roommate responded, “I’m sure he must, but I don’t know him well enough to ask if I can use his washing machine.”

My friend responded to the roommate, “If he knows you well enough to have sex, then you should know him well enough to use his washing machine.”

When she relayed this story to me, I laughed and said, “Tell her to ask if she can drive his car. If he doesn’t know her well enough to let her drive his car, she doesn’t know him well enough to have sex with him.” Frankly, if she doesn’t know how to ask to use his washing maching, how is she going to be brave enough to ask for the sex she wants? It’s not like none of us hooked up with guys we barely knew into the early 1980s. Didn’t we girls all hope a romance would emerge? What per centage resulted in any kind of relationship? We all saw the movie “About Last Night.” Anyone hook up with Rob Lowe and have mind blowing sex? All that sex that wasn’t mind blowing…was it worth it?.

It’s just a fact that women still have a different expectation of sexual encounters and the vulnerability we risk. It’s way different from what most men expect or want.

This is what’s really good about the erotic romance genre: girls have great sex, and it is described, so you don’t have to guess if you’ve never had it. We tell you what the guys want, and what we want. But I digress….

I’ve written about this in my book, “Polyandress” (not published yet—but hopefully by the end of 2019). My main male character tells the polyandress (a woman with multiple sexual, economic, and/or emotional partners ) that he wanted a relationship with the woman he has sex with. Someone he could interact with regularly. He wanted that because of what he had had with the polyandress. He actually wanted what most women want. He didn’t want what his male friends wanted, to have what we’d call casual sex. He wanted a woman to take time with him, and he wanted to take time with a woman.

So, in addressing teenagers who aren’t happy with their sexual relationships because they aren’t getting the type, duration. or frequency of the sex they want, and they are not interested in the other aspects of the interactions they are having with their sex partners, I’d have to ask: if the sex isn’t worth it, why are you still thinking this is a relationship? If you can’t talk about it, or come to an understanding that you are both happy with, why bother?

As an aside, this wonderful song that Bobby Caldwell sings: What you won’t Do For Love: