Or Rather, Why I Can’t Read And Appreciate Them Like They Deserve — ***Before you read this, please be informed that I am by no means bashing comics as a genre. This is merely a thought experiment of mine where I figure out why I can’t get into comics. These are my opinions and mine alone. …

An Underappreciated Holiday — March fourteenth, is not your traditional holiday but that doesn’t make it any less special. I told him that I would make it worth it. He knows I mean what I say, even if he has to wait all day for it. I asked him if he wanted anything particular…

February Writing Prompt Series: Knee-high Socks I never get tired of that sight. She’s so cute with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, dancing around the kitchen in a baby pink tank top, matching lacy panties, and knee-high socks. She’s dancing around, using a wooden spoon as a…

February Writing Prompt Series: Leather — He knelt in front of me staring straight ahead as I’d asked, wearing nothing but the leather cuffs encircling his wrists and tight boxers. Walking around him in a circle, the black leather enclosing my body squeaked when I moved, my heels echoing on the hardwood floor. His body visibly…

February Writing Prompts Series: Blush — I lay there on the bed, exactly where he put me. I didn’t dare move from that spot. Jasper wasn’t one to hold back on punishment, and I was already going to get more than enough treatment tonight if everything went as planned. Jasper walked around the bed, gazing at…

February Writing Prompt Series: Lace Anticipation crawled under my skin, begging to get out. This was hardly our first time, but it would be our first time as newlyweds. The moment the door closed behind him and we were safely in our room, his eyes turned to dark orbs of…

February Writing Prompts Series: Swap — “So, do you guys do this often?” I asked, sitting next to my husband on our neighbor's couch. He squeezed my leg to reassure me. I looked at him, the swell of love overcoming me. …

February Writing Prompt Series: Roses — He walked me backward, his lips burning against mine. If I could swallow him whole, I would. His taste was sweet, like vine ripened strawberries. The trail to the bedroom was draped with rose petals, the pinks and reds melding together in a monochrome pathway. …

February Writing Prompt Series: It’s Not Even That Cold — He popped the ice cube into his mouth, swirling it around for a second. Smiling up at me, he spit it back into the glass and set the glass back on the nightstand. My body quivered with anticipation as he kissed down my throat. …