Quizzle for you

A little exercise for you 🙂 courtesy of floodedroses…..

1) How old would you be if you didn’t know?

2) What would you do in life if you did not need to work for money?

3) What was/is your school stereotype? (nerd, goth, emo etc etc)

4) What is the most expensive thing you own?

5) Do you think crying is a sign of weakness or strength?

6) Which word describes your personality best?

7) Is the cup half empty or half full?

8) What is the last letter of one of your friend’s name?

9) What do you mostly go on, on the internet?

10) Do you have any enemies?

11) Are in you a relationship?

12) Do you celebrate after achieving?

13) What would you do differently if there was no judgement of others?

14) Do you ever crack your knuckles/fingers?

15) If you woke up as the opposite sex, what’s the 1st thing you would do?

16) Do you like your real name?

17) What would you name your first child, if it was a girl?

18) What was the last thing you learnt?

19) How many times have you moved house?

20) If you could meet anyone, dead or alive, once who would it be?

21) Do you challenge your beliefs?

22) If you had to teach something, what would you teach?

23) Do you say yes more than no?

24) Do you believe in everything you did when you were younger?

So…. answers!….

I’m Back!…. Run For The Hills!


Soooo… (dawdles awkardly, playing coyly with her ponytail) After a rather ahem, extended sebatacle from all things fiction it would appear I’ve sloped back like the Proverbial! 

I’m feeling rather rusty so please bear with! Bear with! I’m going to finally dust off my notebooks filled with the feverish scribblings of a woman no less than possessed. I’d really appreciate any encouragement or feedback you kind folks may want to impart. If nothing else I’m always happy to meet bright new & shiny people! If you have a penchant for all things ranging from the saucy to the deviant come say hi!

I’ve put up my latest story “The Intruder” for anyone who fancies reading it, it took me all day as I’ve pretty much forgotten how to manage my Blog tut tut 😉 

Hope to speak soon

Lexia x

The Intruder – Be Careful What You Wish For

Your key turns in the lock and I hear you softly sigh once the door shuts firmly behind you. I watch you from the shadows, you don’t see me, and you’re oblivious to my presence. The darkness does not scare you for you’re content to refrain from switching on the hallway light. Instead you kick off your shoes, freeing your slender tanned feet. I study you, holding my breath in case you should hear me hiding there in the darkness of your apartment. I am an intruder in your peaceful sanctum. I am violating your safe haven. I feel no remorse.

You shed your tailored jacket, indulging in a languid stretch. Your silk blouse becomes partially un-tucked from the waistband of your skirt and I’m fascinated by the sliver of creamy mid-drift I catch a glimpse of. I swallow hard, instantly aroused but more so because I am stealing these private moments. You pad barefoot down the hall, moving ever closer to where I am concealed, as though I’m wearing a midnight black cape and covered in the shroud of night. You still don’t know that I am here, lying in wait… Until it’s too late of course.

Grabbed & Trapped

I seize my chance when you are less than a foot from me. My arm shoots out towards you. My hand finds its target, locks on and clamps down onto your pretty mouth. You literally jump out of your skin as I grasp you firmly. My palm muffles your terrified cries. Survival instinct comes into play instantaneously. You put up an impressive fight, you are stronger than your slim frame would suggest. I have to assert some force to bring you under control, to restrain your raging limbs. I roughly pull your arms behind your back, my other hand just managing to suppress your protesting lips. I press my mouth against your ear and talk to you in a soft low voice. It’s a voice you do not recognize and a fresh wave of panic descends on you.

Helpless in the Dark

“Stop struggling and you’ll make this a lot easier on yourself.” I growl. Feisty as you are, you put up resistance. I merely yank your arms harder behind your back making you whimper in discomfort. I mean you no harm but you are not to know this and so you lash out with your legs instead.
“Have it your own way…” I warn you, taking a heavy-duty tie-grip from my pocket to bind your wrists together with. I know its grip will be tight; the plastic will be cutting into your skin. However it has the desired effect and subdues you a fraction, for a moment at least. You try to speak; I feel your mouth moving under my grip.
“I’ll remove my hand but if you scream, you’ll wish to God you didn’t…Do we have a deal?” My voice is a low rasp, it sounds eerily alien to even myself.
You nod vigorously in agreement but to make certain I jerk your arms back again anyway to show you I mean business.

You gasp and gulp down air when I take away my hand, I hear you crying quietly in fear. I sense your whole body shaking and it gives me a surge of excitement. You are at my mercy, I am in control, I hold ultimate power.

“Ple..plea…please don’t hurt me!… What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want just please, please don’t hurt me.”
Your cries play on my emotions for a split second. I soon snap out of it just as quickly as cold ruthless command resumes.
“Do exactly as I say and maybe I’ll go easy on you… “I sneer at you, offering nothing in the way of comfort.
“I have money, is that what you need? I can sort it… “Your voice stammers and pleads in desperation.
“Just shut your mouth and do exactly as I tell you, bitch.” I reply cruelly, feeling another jolt of arousal shoot through me.

face down

You seem to get the message loud and clear. You try your best to stifle your sobs, biting down on your bottom lip. Nothing disguises the way in which you tremble. I push you down the corridor towards the master bedroom, forcing you forward to what you must surely believe is your doom. It’s even darker in here which works in my favour and alarms you further still.
“Please! Oh please, I’m begging you…” Your whispered pleas make the blood flow straight to my cock. I’m stiff in seconds.
“Get over there.” I order you. “Now, bend over the end of the bed, face down. I said bend over!…” I do not raise my voice to you. It is far more sinister speaking quietly instead.
You hesitate so I give you a helping hand by shoving you forward. You fall face first down onto the mattress. Another cry escapes you.
“What do you want from me?”
“You shall find out soon enough.” I laugh softly. It dawns on you what it is I have in store.
“Oh God! Please! No….” You begin sobbing violently.
“Sssh…” I soothe. “Don’t fight me. It will hurt if you struggle.”
I take the liberty of stroking your hair with my leather gloved hand as though you are a child seeking comfort.

Then I do a much less sentimental thing. I roughly hike up your skirt, up and around your hips to reveal your long stocking clad thighs. I feel the fine silk lingerie you’re wearing, savouring it’s quality before tearing them off you, not in the least bit concerned if my actions hurt you or not. My interest lies between those creamy smooth thighs. I am impatient for that which I set out to get from you.
“Open your legs. Do it now.” I order you.
By now you’re crying is soft; you seem to have resigned to your fate. Once again I offer you a helping hand by roughly parting your legs. Even in the darkness I know just how good your pussy looks. I have explored it so many times before, gorging on it’s sweet nectar, made love to it for hours…

For you this situation is completely different. You believe I am a stranger, a dangerous intruder who at any moment is set to defile you. Your face is buried in the expensive bed linen, maybe through shame, perhaps fear, probably both. I pay no heed instead I begin twisting my fingers in and out of your slit forcefully, a wry smile playing at my lips as I do so.
“Well, well, well. You seem to be getting wet for me.” I remark in the same ice cold voice. I see you try and shake your head but I am not interested in your denials or objection. By now I have my own most basic and primitive needs that must be attended to.

Without hesitation I pull my solid weapon free. I note that my underwear is more than a little wet from my pre-cum. I clutch my cock for a second feeling it twitch at the prospect of being forced deep inside your hole. No build up or foreplay tonight. I am just going to give you a hard, fast fucking, one that will result in my balls exploding cum all over your lovely taut arse. Pressing my helmet into you, I continue with the theme of surprise. I spear you with my entire length, right up to it’s hilt. I have to force myself not to moan out loud in sheer pleasure for you have such a perfectly tight fitting slit, enhanced this evening by your cunt muscles fighting to restrict my entry.
Still I forge onwards, no obstacle I cannot overcome. Tonight I am not concerned with controlling myself. I am not worried about holding back my cum and it feels liberating. Tonight I am here solely to fuck your pussy into oblivion, until you are sore and until I release my seed upon you.

You take me by surprise. I feel you relaxing your sex muscles somewhat. You take me back even more as you begin to grind your arse back into me. Your pussy starts to push back onto my invading shaft as I fuck you. I dig my fingers into the flesh of your thighs to keep my balance. I pull on your hair, hard, lifting your head off the bed momentarily.
If I didn’t know any better I’d believe your actions are those of a woman highly aroused. A woman wet by my intrusive fucking.
I pick up speed and force as I pummel your cunt. I know that you are stretched as wide as you can stand. I push your boundaries further still and insert my fingers past that tight ring of yours, invading your tight and confined arsehole. I stretch and fill you beyond your limits. I marvel at the way in which I can feel my cock rubbing against the thin membrane that separates it from my fingers….
I cannot hold out much longer, your cries are not helping either. My cum is boiling and bubbling in my balls, surging it’s way upwards to my cock end. I pull my jerking wet prick swiftly from your pulsing cunt. Only now do I let go, allowing my creamy jism erupt from me in endless spurts. It lands in long wet strands on your arse, pooling between your crack and down over your tender folds. I hear you crying, sobbing softly, almost inaudibly. But despite your shame and self-loathing I know you enjoyed the hard fuck I just subjected you to my darling.

I stand upright without a word. I put my cock away and fasten my trousers before retrieving a blade from my pocket. I cut through the plastic tie-grip around your wrists, releasing you. You remain face down on the bed, shuddering, panting, crying.
I turn and leave without uttering another word. Mission accomplished. This was never about me, not a product born in my imagination. That you must understand. For maybe you have forgotten? Perhaps it slipped from your mind?
Take a moment and cast your memory back… We got a little drunk together. You disclosed one of your most dark secret sexual fantasies to me. You never believed for one moment that I would help you realise that same fantasy for real one day…
It will not take you long to figure it all out. You are a very clever girl, darling. Besides, once you have composed yourself and found the strength to get off the bed and turn on the lights you’ll see. You will notice the huge bouquet of roses I have lovingly arranged upon your dressing table. Then you will understand. Then you will know. It was all for you.

Top Ten Myths About Erotica Writers

At last! The record is well & truly put straight! As I read this a broad grin spread across my face as each word rang so true! Very uplifting to learn that us Erotic Creators aren’t seedy shadow dwellers! x

One Handed Writers


1. We’re sex experts.

I can’t tell you how many emails I’ve received over the years asking for sexual advice from readers who were sure, since I write about sex, I must have the answers they’re looking for. While I, personally, do happen to have a degree in psychology, I’m not a sexual therapist and don’t profess to be one. I’ve made my best attempts to answer questions, always with the caveat that I am not an expert. Writing about FBI agents doesn’t make thriller writers qualified to guard the president and writing about sex doesn’t make me qualified to tell you how to do it.

2. We’re nymphomaniacs.

I’m sure a few of us are, but for the most part, no. I’m not having sex on every surface in my house twice a day. I’m a sex writer, and not a sex blogger…

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Painful Passion


She Spins Words

This is my craving – imagined in my mind and manifested through my words..

I am awake,
I see through magnified eyes.
My senses are alive,
My mind has gone wild.

Thoughts drenched in lust,
My want for you in ferocious.
I’m wallowing in your exotic intoxication.
I breathe you in.

Your tongue swells in a river of sweet, warm honey.
Your eyes are ants crawling over my body.
Razor blade teeth tear away any remaining lace.
You hold me hoisted in your suction cup.

You press hard and tease me with feather light tickles.
I sink into divine surrealness.
Metallic red sneaks between my lips – blood.
You leave your prints in black and blue.

Legs vibrating, back arching, stomach convulsing.
I etch my passion into your shimmering flesh.
You are pumping, thumping, groaning.
Liquid gold drips from your finger tips.

You coat me in a delightfully sticky mess,

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Chasing Skin


Best Sex in the Universe Blog

She’s beautiful when she’s horny. She’s radiant during sex. I like to eat her. Like pudding. Licking an invisible spoon coated with her cream. I like to sip her slowly. Dry wine spike with dollops of sweet honey.

Her devilish thigh kisses and cooing breasts are all the nourishment I need.

For her I am always hungry. Starving for more. The feast of her flesh. It consumes me. A paradox most satisfying. I lose myself inside her. Swallowed up in the journey of her touch. A traveller lost.

She tastes, but does not swallow. Open mouth. Wagging tongue. Her womanhood ruptures. Soaks my lips. Stains my method.

She’s barely a woman. And yet, that is what she’s always been. Soft folds pet the wolves as they hunt. Sticky with the moment.

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