This site contains adult writing and topics. If you are under 18 or offended, angered or just don't like talking about sex, read no further.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

I'm Back!

Hello loyal readers...all two of ya! After a monsterous computer virus where I lost most of my writing for the past year...I am an asshole and didn't back anything up...I am back. And I am saving my work every week. Please remember to back up all of your writing! This is your soul on the line folks...be safe.

Next on the contest list is the hot competition from desdmona.com. They are having thier short story contest and grand prize is $200. The story should be 500 words or less and have to do with a stiletto. Either the knife or the heel will work...or both if you are so talented. Deadline is Febuary 1st.

Below is my first try at a story. Let me know what you like, don't like, hate, love...Hey! Do you have an idea for an erotic story for this contest? Let's here it!

Remember! This story contains sexually explicit scenes! If you can't handle it, stop reading.

WORKING TITLE (FF, Oral)
Copyright ©2005 by Crystal Barela

My nose was pressed to the window like a child’s at a pet store, eager to touch and hold. I had the same desire for the smooth gleam of patent leather and the pussy wetting stilettos.

I bit my lip with indecision.

Did I need another pair?

I turned to the shop door.

CLOSED.

My eyes returned to the display with a rueful grin.

Food not shoes.

After adjusting my purse trap I took two steps uptown when bells tinkled behind me.

“Come in.” A woman who worked in the boutique waved me in with a flip of her cinnamon colored hair.

Stella, her nametag read. She went directly to the pair my eyes had lusted after.

Stiletto heel, five inches, in blood red patent leather with leg wrap.

I took a seat in one of the wingback chairs scattered about the shop.

Stella knelt at my feet.

The tissue paper crinkled.

My breath quickened.

A warm hand held my ankle lightly, while the other wriggled the shoe from my foot, baring my coral painted toes to Stella’s eyes.

She ran her fingers under my heel and arch, her thumb falling over the top of my foot.

“Beautiful color,” she said, warm breath tickling my desire.

The stiletto flashed as she slipped it onto my foot, the open toe framing my nails like a piece of art. Stella took the long laces and cris-crossed them around my ankle. Her fingers skimmed my calf as she wrapped the length around my leg again and again.

My breath caught with every pass.

Gold strands in Stella’s hair sparkled under the lights. She tied the laces off in a bow just below my knee.

Stella’s palm slid down the back of my calf.

Satin to flesh, flesh to satin.

“Amazing legs,” she said.

Our eyes met.

Her tongue wet her lower lip, leaving it glossy, like a clit ripe with desire.

My pussy twitched.
Without breaking our gaze, Stella slipped the shoe from my other foot.

“Wear stockings?”

I shook my head.

Stella pulled a nude stocking from her pocket.

My leg lengthened as she pushed the silk over my toes and heel, spreading the sheer fabric from calf to knee and knee to thigh, moving over my skin with dancing fingers.

Our eyes meet.

My legs spread.

Stella rolls my white skirt to my waist. Her strong hands massage my inner thighs.

Fingers meet panty and press into me.

Fabric lingers in my wetness.

My hungry kitty nudges her hand.

She pushes the silk aside and lifts the red stiletto.

The heel is hard and foreign against my sensitive pussy, but I’m dripping and open.

Stella is licking, slurping, tasting leather flavored juices as she fucks me with the heel.

My teeth sink into my lower lip and I twist my nipple, arching.

Heat tightens my limbs.

I am still.

“Buy one pair, get the second half off,” Stella whispers.

“Sold.”

Monday, October 31, 2005

Date set for Da Vinci Code plagiarism trial

Saw this in yahoo news and thought I would share. I have personally read both of these books, which are good, but in my opinion are only the same in the subject manner. Brown has wrote a piece of fiction about the Nights Templar and the Holy Grail and Leigh/Biagent say they have wrote a non-fiction account of the evnets. Question? How many people have wrote fiction books based on what are considered the actural events of what happen? Another quesition. Are Leigh/Baigent now saying what they said was fact, is fiction?

LONDON (Reuters) - Two historians are suing the publishers of Dan Brown's best-selling religious thriller "The Da Vinci Code" in a case which lawyers said Thursday was due to start early next year.

Richard Leigh and Michael Baigent are suing Random House for lifting "the whole architecture" of the research that went into their 1982 non-fiction book "The Holy Blood, and the Holy Grail."
Lawyers on both sides of the case met Thursday to thrash out technical details, and said a trial date had been set for February 27.

They would not comment on how the trial might affect sales of the hugely successful novel or the distribution of a major Hollywood adaptation which Sony Pictures plans to release in May next year.

Random House said a "substantial" part of the claim by Baigent and Leigh had been dropped as a result of Thursday's discussions, and added in a statement:
"Random House is delighted with this result, which reinforces its long-held contention that this is a claim without merit."

A spokeswoman for Leigh said he still intended to pursue his claim against the publishers of Brown's book, which has 36 million copies in print worldwide and has upset Catholics for suggesting Jesus married Mary Magdalene and had a child by her.

The same theory is put forward in The Holy Blood, and the Holy Grail.

Commentators have pointed out that a major character in Dan Brown's book, Sir Leigh Teabing, has a name that is an anagram of Leigh and Baigent. A third author of the 1982 book, Henry Lincoln, has decided to stay out of the action.

Ironically, a special hardback, illustrated version of their book, called Holy Blood, Holy Grail has just been reissued by none other than Random House.

In August, Brown won a court ruling against another writer, Lewis Perdue, who claimed The Da Vinci Code copied elements of two of his novels, "Daughter of God" and "The Da Vinci Legacy."
Perdue had sought $150 million in damages and asked the court to block distribution of the book and the movie adaptation, which features Tom Hanks alongside French actress Audrey Tautou.

Happy All Hallow's Eve! Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Penis Size...How do you Measure Up?

This is a facinating study on Definitive Penis Size. This site has everything you would ever want to know about dick.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Assignment #2: Short Story

Time for this week's assignment. Please see the picture below. I would like all of my loyal readers to take a look at this picture and write a short story, no more than 2000 words about what they see; how they imagine this scene to have happened. Who are these women? Friends? Lovers? What are they reading? Be creative and have fun! (I would like to thank Marciposa for participating in last week's assignment...not once, but twice!)

Assignment 2 Picture Posted by Picasa

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Poetry Submissions

I know there are some poetry writers who visit this site, so I thought I would post the link to the angry poet. He pays $10 a poem and from $20-$50 for short story fiction under 500 words. check out his guidlines at the link. He's pretty pissed.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Precious Pearls

Hey there guys. I have just completed my first BDSM story called Precious Pearls. It is my foray into writing something of this nature and I am not sure if it comes off like I want. It's based losely on a club I visited in NYC several years ago. This is for a BDSM anthology that insists the name Juliette be used in the story and that pearls be used as well. For entry guidelines visit the Erotica Readers and Writers Association website.

My question to you is...Do you understand the whole number thing once the show starts? The idea was that as the guests arrived they were given numbers and then Juliette would call out random numbers for a turn at the stage. Is this weird and does it make sense? How would you suggest I make it less confusing.

In coincidence there is an interesting bit at Sex Kitten about BDSM this month. Check it out.

So below is my new story. Please give me any and all advice.

PRECIOUS PEARLS (FF, MF, Orgy, oral)
Copyright ©2005 by Crystal Barela

The three things my mistress Juliette loved above all others were my dirty knees, my best behavior and her precious pearls. That night she had insisted upon all three.

Clit Friendly Toys by Anne Semans

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Tuesday, September 13, 2005

M.I.L.F. (Mother's I'd Like to F*ck)

Here's my latest contest entry for the "Hot Mommas" antholgy. This story is based on the strip club Shawn and I have visited in Canada a couple of times. On both occasions I was lucky enough to have a lap dance. This is a very accurate portrayal of what happens on stage and what can happen in the private dance rooms. As a married woman, I turned down going south on a stripper...but I did think about what it might be like, and what it might lead to.

The most difficult part about writing this story is that it is written from a man's point of view and I'm sure that I've gotten the voice right. My husband has read the first few pages and he seems to think it's working. If there are any men who happen to be taking a peek at my site, let me know if it works or doesn't and why. Everyone else let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions. Thanks for reading!

NOTE: From now on I will be posting the title and opening line of my stories on my blog page and then the rest of the story in my comments, that way my blog won't be a zillion inches long. Also I am going to furnish a code so that anyone who doesn't want to read further because of topic of story can stop now. For example this story is MF, oral, anal = Male/Female relationship, contains oral and anal sex.

MAXINE’S (MF, oral, anal)
Copyright ©2005 by Crystal Barela

Two college boys were lying on stage under the pink and green neon lights, gold stripper poles from stage to ceiling, framing them. Rolled dollars bills were clasped between their puckered lips…





Monday, September 12, 2005

The Largest Sex Organ: The Brain

The hypothalamus is one of the most important parts of the brain. Among other functions, it is involved in the "Four F's" of motivation: fighting, fleeing, feeding, and fucking.
It's the last one we're most interested in...(Read more at
Sex Kitten)

Assignment #1: Drabble

Okay folks, I'm going to try to get something going on this site that has to do with writing...not just erotic writing, but writing in general. Weekly I am gonna post an assignment and anyone who wants to try thier hand at putting a story together is welcome to post. This week we are gonna drabble.

A drabble is a story that is exactly 100 words long, no more, no less (not including title). The goal is tell a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in only 100 words. Not as easy as you might think. Good luck!

Friday, September 09, 2005


Love this photo...erotic, sexy, fun...There's just something about vintage. Posted by Picasa

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Doing a Happy Dance

I just received a wonderful call from Sarah Young's mom. Sarah is a local artist I wrote a story about for our paper which comes out today. I was a little nervous about writing it because Sarah was nervous. Apparently, in the past some of the articles written hadn't been as she would have liked them. I really tried to capture her though.

Sarah's mom said that Sarah, upon receiving the paper drove out into the desert as far as she could go before she would loose cell power (the desert calms her). She then opened the paper and read the story I wrote aloud to her mother. Her mother thought it was wonderful and amazing and captured her daughter so well. Sarah was thrilled beyond words and in tears from my story. They both think I am brilliant and amazingly talented...lol...love to hear that!

I feel really good...REALLY good about this...

A little Q and A

"Oh, I wish that God had not given me what I prayed for! It was not so good as I thought!" - Johanna Spryi (1827-1901) Heidi; 1885

Q. Have you ever longed for someone and upon getting them, were left wanting?

A. We all have, haven't we? I wasted my life in a relationship for two years left wanting. And I mean sexually. I won't name any names, but this particular person had no regard for my sexual needs. It didn't matter how many blow jobs I gave him or how many sexy negligee I wore...he never headed south. Not with hands or mouth. Yeah, never said I wasn't an idiot. I thought good friends could be made into good lovers. I blame my thinking on the stupidity of youth.

Sipping Margarita

Okay folks. Here is my latest story, "Sipping Margarita." I was trying to give it a tasty drink feel...not sure I accomplished that or not. Let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions. Thanks!

SIPPING MARGARITA
Copyright ©2005 by Crystal Barela

My guitar was cradled in my arms like an expectant lover. The smooth worn wood soft like a woman’s beneath my palm. I caressed the strings in slow motion, dragging my calloused finger-tips down the gentle slope of the neck in one long stroke, before setting my fingers on a chord. I pulled a high pitched twang from inside my wooden lover, as seductive as the sound of a woman coming.
I peered up from under my cowboy hat and winked at the woman in red. This was for her. I was imagining her body beneath my fingers as I strummed and picked, my pussy getting hotter as the hours passed. She’d been sitting in nearby patch of shade from almost the moment I set up my gear─leaving every once and a while, but always returning to listen.
Getting noticed was this woman’s purpose. This was no pretty young thing, but a lady seasoned in turning heads. Full and round like a model in a Rubin painting. A palm tree had the pleasure of feeling the length of back and the nudge of her ass against its smooth bark and I hoped by the end of the day I would enjoy the same.
Knees spread, her long prairie skirt draped like a hammock between them. The breeze carried the hem up ever so often, giving me a peek of rosy ripe pussy.
An embroidered red blouse, hung off her shoulders, in layers of ruffles. Braless, her tits were the size of cantaloupes and rolled under the thin fabric, teasing me with the possibility of a show, nipples just out of view.
At my feet was my open guitar case, dollar bills littering the black interior. It was just nearing sunset, bright rays of light shot over the peeks of the San Ysidro Mountains behind me, casting a halo around the woman’s dark skin and hair. She rose to her feet as if pulled by a string, graceful like a dancer.
Skirts flew as she twirled in a halo of golden light. Red painted toes, calves, knees and a glimpse of thigh. Arms overhead, fingers snapping in time with my playing.
She spun like a child seeking that place where your stomach turns and you collapse on the grass and watch the sky swirl round you.
The last note rang in the air.
There was a moment of complete silence before the small crowd around us erupted in applause. Cat calls, clapping, money tossed into my tattered case. I waved and thanked our admirers before stowing my guitar.
Sandaled feet arrived in front of the case, a silver toe ring hugging her baby toe and a tattoo climbing her calf. I stood, drinking her in.
Close-up she was older than I had thought. Fine lines feathered from the corners of her eyes. Long chocolate colored hair camouflaged softening her jaw. The whites of her deep dark eyes, in stark contrast with her dark coaco of her skin peered up at me. They sparked in the fading light, eager as a teenagers.
“Margarita,” she said offering me her hand.
I took her plump fingers in my own and brought them to my lips. “Melissa.”
“You are, how you say? Mucho talentoso.”
Sweet ocotillo and sunshine clung to her skin. I wanted to lick it off.
“I was wondering.” I moved in close enough to feel the heat of her sun-kissed skin through my thin cotton shirt.
Pussy pink tongue wet her lips.
“Would you like a private performance?”
Maragrita tossed her hair like a wild stallion her nostrils flaring and nodded.
With my guitar in one hand and her in the other, she led me out of the park and across the street. I didn’t much care where she was taking me, as long as I got to sip her sweet pussy before the night was over.
We entered the shadows of the alley. My guitar fell to the gravel and I pulled her full ripe body against mine. I pressed her back against the rough brick and ground my pussy into hers.
“Beautiful, Margarita.”
I kissed the color from her lips and inched her skirt up. The bright red fabric wadded around her waist, so I could feel her slick folds. She clung to my fingers, her walls knocking against my knuckles. I pushed against her, wishing I had a dick that I could sink into her hot center. She moaned and bounced on my hand, one leg around my waist the other firmly on the ground.
With a dozen practiced swirl of my thumb her cunt applauded squeezing my fingers in a firm handshake or welcome. I grabbed her ass, pulling her close, licking the salt from her skin. Margarita encircled my waist with her legs.
A door was thrown open behind one of the bars, across from us. The alleyway was lit with a stream of light and accompanying mariachi music, a man silhouetted in the doorway before it slammed shut. He stood on the stoop and lit up a cigarette..
“Where? Dónde?”
Margarita reached down and took hold of my guitar, and motioned for me to continue down the alley. She giggled and covered my face in red painted kisses. I staggered rounded the corner and she directed me up a narrow staircase.
We fell against the stairs and the old wood creaked under our weight.
Buttons pooped and lips latched onto my tits like she was had just been reborn.
We crawled up the stairs, stumbling, kissing, drunk on passion.
Inebriated with Margarita.
My head hit a door on the landing and I reached for the knob. We tumbled into the room laughing.
My feisty senorita pulled my jeans down my legs, and I kicked them off. Her fingers were in my snatch and her lips eating cunt before I could do more than gasp her name. She threw my legs over her shoulders and her tongue performed the Mexican hat dance on my wet lips.
Margarita circled and tapped her way around my clit, as if it were a sombrero, her lips making clapping sounds, finding a staccato beat. Her molé brown eyes met mine, dark and rich like the earth. Her fingers joined her tongue, partnering in a dance of heat and passion until my thighs stretched taught and my clit vibrated like a Mexican jumping bean.
I collapsed on the floor, catching my breath and Margarita crawled up my body, her warm soft skin pressing into me.
“Mas?”
“Si!” I said laughing. “Mucho mas!” I rolled us across the floor, landing on top of her. I pressed her hands into the braided rug beneath us. “What did you have in mind?”
Neck and ears were salty and damp. I licked and kissed, my way to her breasts, burying my face between the massive drums, slick with perspiration. Nipples long and hard butted my lips, and I drank them. Nursing her, parched for this woman’s candied moans. Hands sticky with my juices tangled in my short hair, urging me lower. I nuzzled her belly, and kissed the crease of her leg.
The sweet skin of her labia filled my mouth, her heels digging into the floor outside my shoulders. I slurped her up, making circles around her hole. The opening pulled at my fingers tips, clinging to me. Her belly rose into the air, trembling and shaking.
“No!”
I would have screamed “Yes,” but I was sipping Margarita.
My new lover was close, her clit vibrating like a tuning fork, but she pulled free, crawling away from me toward the bed, her ass moving in a teasing sway. She took out a box from under the frame and tossed a big belted rubber cock my way.
Our eyes met and we both grinned. I stood and strapped on the dick I had been wishing I had all night.
Margarita’s full round ass, rose off her bed like a moon in the desert sky. I nudged my big boy against her slit, her hand between her thighs pulling me closer. The massive cock made a home between her thighs, sliding easily into her with her slick juices. I hit bottom and began to pump. Steady, building speed. She begged for more.
Coyotes howled in the distance, and I joined them, fucking my strap-on into her hungry cunt. Her hands were against the wall, pushing back against me, taking the rubber cock deeper and deeper. Cursing and begging in Spanish urged me on. I reached under her and slid my fingers around her clit.
Eyes caught mine over her shoulder. Margarita came, her muscles squeezing my rubber dick so hard I couldn’t move within her. I lay on her back, our sweat drenched skin sliding together, my thighs burning. I kissed her neck and she giggled, collapsing against the mattress.
We crawled up onto the twin bed and I pillowed myself on her chest, listening to her racing heart. It slowed beneath my ear and my eyes began to close to the rhythm of her soft snoring.
I sat up, not sure how much time had passed, but realizing the door wasn’t shut and my guitar was still on the stairs. I pressed a kiss between her breasts before I left the bed in search of my guitar and cigarettes.
Naked, I sat in the doorframe and pulled my baby into my arms. My fingers picked up the rhythm of Margarita’s breathing. I hummed under my breath as I watched her sleep. The rainbow colored serape framing her beautiful body.
How’s that song go?
“When the whole world fits inside of your arms…” I mumbled.
Wood warmed against my thighs as I caressed the neck of my guitar and let my fingers glide against the strings.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Gotta Make a Living

I want to really be making money with my writing although I am not quite sure how to go about doing it. Probably shouldn't have chosen erotica as my genre...lol...Thrillers would probably sell more to the masses, or even those silly Harlequin romance novels. Although Harlequin does have a new erotic series called Spice. Modern stories of modern women with the hot sex thrown in. Just haven't quite wrapped myself around writing something that is 90,000 to 150,000 words. So far, 9120 is my max.

I will admit I have about three stories in work that could turn into novel length, one, even a contender for Spice. A while ago I wrote a story called Beneath the Kilt which was inspired by my honeymoon to beautiful Applecross Scotland (Yes a straight story!). I submitted it a couple of places and no one seemed to want it. When I joined the Fish Tank I posted it and the general consensous was that it needed more story and less jumping into sex. I sorta had this fun in Scotland travel thing happening and then bam, orgy on the butchers block. I have been really reworking this. I compeltely changed it and have been adding plots and subplots and characters other than my heroine and her man. I think it could be really good if I ever get it finished.

The other two are Witch Hunt and Merlin's Mother. WH has a ways to go, but can you believe I have finished MM? I am now in the process of beefing it up. Giving the readers a bit more information. I think it looks a little bit too much like an outline. It's giving the story the meat that takes a tole on me. And I don't mean literally...;-)

Other finished stories, soon to be posted here are Sipping Margarita, Precious Pearls and Maxine's. All of which are in the editing process. I like to have them read through by someone else at least once before posting them here.

I'm still trying to find a home for The Double O Rodeo which I think is totally hot. I sent it off to Venus Press today in hopes that they might have a home for it. I didn't see much lesbian stuff posted on their site, but I will keep my fingers crossed. Words Like Yours, which is awesome, is also homeless. It was written for the Valentine Anthology at Bella books, per their request, but there was some kind of communication/sending error. I am thinking there will be another Valentine thing coming up soon...at least I hope so. It would be good for a music anthology too.

Anyhow...I'm rambling. Lots to do...yes...should probably stop writing in blog and finish novel...need to eat...need clothes...yeah...money...must write best seller...yea...

A little Q and A

"There may be some things better than sex, and there may be some things worse. But there's nothing exactly like it." - W.C. Fields (1879-1946)

Q. What do you find better than sex and why?

A. A must admit I find few things better than sex with a good lover. Is it very girly of me to say snuggling in with your lover the next morning? There is something so wonderful about waking to see his face relaxed with sleep and free of worry, blink awake and smile upon meeting my eyes. An arm thrown around me and a leg pulling me into his body until we are like one person, breathing in the morning and lying in the spot between dreams and consciousness.

Thursday, September 01, 2005


Thought this was a riot! Posted by Picasa

A little Q and A

"Let down my silken hair over my shoulders and open my thighs over my lover. 'Tell me, is there any part of me that is not lovable?" - Tzu Yeh (c. 3rd-4th century), Song II

Q. What part of your body do you find most loveable, the most sexy?

A. I would have to say that I find my eyes to be very sexy and to be my most beautiful feature. I have wonderfully long dark lashes and a great almond shape. Also, I like how they change color to match what I am wearing...blue or green. My breasts are something to behold too...although I have often complained of their size, I do find them to be an asset in the eye catching department. Men can't help but look at knockers.

Summer in Savannah

Hello, my one loyal reader. I have finished my story "Summer in Savannah" which is written for the Fish Tank short story competition. They will announce winners on Sept. 15. Grand prize $250, second $150 and third $75.

This isn't my typical story. No rough hard ladies here, just a couple of girls in love. Let me know what you think.

SUMMER IN SAVANNAH
Copyright ©2005 by Crystal Barela

Summer in Savannah was wet and sticky like the insides of Joanne’s thighs after a dirty thought. This afternoon she’d had plenty, lying in the backyard this afternoon and missing her lover. She was in a hammock; glasses perched upon her long nose and a book open across her belly. But her thoughts weren’t of the pages between the worn cover, or the canopy of blue above her, interlaced with the branches of oak trees and the creeping hangings of Spanish moss.

This hammock held memories of her childhood.

Afternoon lemonade while her momma sipped mint juleps and her father threw the Frisbee with her dog Patches. Grandma snapping sweet sugar peas and the two of them eating just as many raw as found their way to the dinner table at night. Kissing Bobby Wickum before she knew what sex was and discovering that sex was only right if it were a woman’s body she touched.

Tonight it would be where she proposed to Kim.

They’d met in New York through a want ad in The Village Voice. Kim had wanted a nude model for her photo projects, and Joanne had wanted to do something her parents would completely disapprove of.

It was a surprise to find that having Kim’s camera lens focusing on her body was a turn-on. The way Kim would bite her lip in between showers of compliments as the shutter clicked again and again. How Kim, seemingly without thinking, would approach Joanne and move an arm to a better position, brush a breast, stand too close.

The sun was setting, turning the water beside Joanne into a golden pool. Bits of white light were caught and scattered across the pond’s surface, when Kim’s familiar lanky silhouette approached. The camera was a limb, just as an arm or leg and it rose in greeting, documenting Kim surroundings and her lover.

“It’s just as you described,” Kim said approaching the hammock. She knelt on the grass and brought her nose within an inch of Joanne’s. “You’ve gotten some sun.”

“An afternoon in a hammock will do that.”

“You smell like sunlight.”

“Miss the city, do you?”

“Not one bit.”

Their lips met in a soft kiss, both of them remembering the many sighs and moments in each other’s arms. They had only been apart a week, but it felt like years for both of them.

Kim stood and took hold of her lover’s skirt hem. Slowly, she rolled the white cotton fabric up Joanne’s long sun drenched legs, revealing knobby knees and soft thighs. Joanne’s mound was natural, wild riots of curly red hair, a fire between her legs and skimming her belly.

“What are you thinking?” Joanne asked, letting her knees fall open.

Kim brought her camera up and focused the lens on Joanne’s bush. The shutter clicked several times.

“Every one of those freckles will kiss my tongue tonight.”

Kim set her camera on the ground then stepped out of her khaki shorts, revealing a tattoo of a black swan soaring towards her neatly trimmed bush, as if about to take up residence in the nest of silky hair.

The hammock swayed as Kim climbed onboard, nearly toppling them to the soft grass beneath. Their giggles echoed across the water as Kim’s toes found purchase in the cool green blades, steadying them in a gentle sway.

Firmly astride her lover’s hips, Kim took hold of the hem of her black tank top and threw it over her head, breasts lifting toward the sky. The hammock danced slowly, and Joanne enjoyed the bounce of her lover’s breasts and the tangle of their reunited pussy hair.

They lay as one, stomach and breasts pressed firmly together, elbows framing Joanne’s face.

“I’ve missed you.”

Kim rested her cheek on one hand, and lowered the other along waist and hip to tug on Joanne’s bush. The blush that spread across her lover’s skin wet Kim’s pussy and inspired licks and nibbles along her jaw. When they made love Joanne was on fire, her skin glowing like embers were lit beneath her.

“You’ve been thinking of me,” Kim murmured.

Joanne’s pussy was damp, her lips silky and hot clinging to Kim’s fingers, pulling her hand deeper into a moist embrace.

When they’d met, Joanne would have been too shy to fuck in her parents’ backyard, not that she would have admitted it. Nearly two years later and a slave to the lens, she flaunted her body naturally. She moved in ways that best caught the light and most flattered her figure.

Kim picked up a rhythm, the hammock swaying front and back between the tall trees, her fingers sliding deeper and deeper. Joanne’s clit was rock hard.

Breasts that cast a near perfect shadow in the right lighting were salty and damp after an afternoon outdoors. Joanne’s nipples were hard little pebbles and when Kim drew one into her mouth, Joanne’s hands cradled her head like she was a baby, pulling her close.

Kim felt like an infant gaining sustenance. Joanne made her feel that way. Desperate, hungry and needy.

Someone overhearing them might have thought the sounds were children playing as their sighs echoed across the water, if it weren’t accompanied by the wet sticky sound of fingers in pussy. The wet noises mixed with the buzz of the insects, whispered I love yous, and the croaking of frogs.

Joanne’s fingers twined with Kim’s, each finding the other’s excited nubbin. Kim sat up, riding Joanne like she was on a rocking horse, cannon-balling down a race track. The hammock swayed dangerously but they fucked harder. Their names a chorus until Kim’s fingers were caught in Joanne’s velvet crush, knuckles aching, making her come in turn.

They were still, Kim snuggling into a spot next to Joanne, the stars glowing down at them. She pulled Joanne closer and leaned over to kiss her cheeks, only to find them covered in tears.

“Baby?” Kim kissed them away. “What’s wrong?”

“I love you so much,” Joanne whispered. She began to sob, overcome with emotion.

“I love you, too.”

This amazing woman, this talented, beautiful woman, loved her.

Kim held Joanne close, tracing her vertebrae, and whispering soothingly until she was still, her breathing even.

“I spoke to my parents,” Joanne whispered.

The family luncheon had not gone well, and she felt guilty for putting the hope in her lover’s heart that they would welcome Kim with warm hugs and soft kisses on her cheeks. The stories Joanne had told had given the impression of a loving, open, adoring family. Turns out they were only free-thinkers when it came to other people’s children.

Daddy thought her attraction to women was a phase and that she would settle down with Bobby. Momma wanted a big wedding where she could invite all the local society women, and that wasn’t going to happen if Joanne married Kim. Joanne would become the dirty little secret no one spoke of.

With a sigh and a mall smile, Joanne reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a gold band studded with rows and rows of diamonds.

“What’s this?” Kim asked.

“This is the Woodward family ring.”

The hammock was still as the air and the silence of crickets.

Joanne took Kim’s hand in hers.

“You know, I love you more than I will ever be able to tell you.” Joanne could just make out her lover’s face. Her brown eyes were big wet orbs, tears clinging to her long lashes.

“This ring has been passed down from generation to generation, as a sign of trust and fidelity. I have never felt more safe and loved than when I am with you.”

Tears began to roll slowly down Kim’s cheeks.

“Kim Ann Marcus, would you bring me the greatest joy I could know, and promise to be my wife?”

In answer, she kissed her best friend’s lips, her eyes wide open, wanting to remember this moment as clear as a photograph.

The ring sparkled in the moonlight as Joanne slid it over her lover’s trembling finger.

“Your parents weren’t angry?”

“More disappointed than angry.”

They wrapped their arms around each other and Joanne let one leg fall over the side of the hammock and gave them a push.

“But as my grandmother said, the ring is mine by rights, and my parents have no say in who I give it to.”

The stars danced above them.

“Grandmother has invited us to breakfast tomorrow morning,” Joanne said with a catch in her voice. “She said she can’t wait to meet the woman who’s earned my heart.”

“And I can’t wait to meet the woman who’s helped shape it.”

The hammock swung gently, rocking them to sleep with dreams of tomorrow and hopes for the future.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Quote of the Day

"Love -- bittersweet, irrepressible -- loosens my limbs and I tremble." - Sappho (6th century B.C.) To Atthis

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Quote of the Day

"When she raises her eyelids, it's as if she were taking off all her clothes." - Colette (1873-1954) Claudine and Annie; 1903

Saturday, August 20, 2005


Love this tattoo. Backs or so sensual and inspiring, don't you think? Posted by Picasa

Friday, August 19, 2005

Sci-Fi Lesbian Erotica

There is a post at the erotica readers and writers association website for a sci-fi lesbian anthology. Guidlines at the link below:

http://erotica-readers.com/ERA/G/SciFi.htm

I've been working on something for a week now that is loosely based on a "SG1" type of concept. I have a "portal" which is like a "gate" and my lead character has a flippant additude like Jack O'Niel, but I don't think it sounds just like the show or is like the show.

The out-line of my story is Saline is a cockey, "Top Gun" type of character who flys a mean fighter jet and is great with weapons, not to mention lucky. She was quite the womanizer until she met Dawn the senator of the Legion on their planet, Windfree. There enemy is the Vaulday, a group of aliens who raid planets and steel the females in order to use them on breeding farms to create more of their kind. Dawn is kidnapped from Windfree by the Vaulday and Saline disobeys a direct order to rescue her.

Windfree is an all female world and they can reproduce with each other. Being an all female world makes them a ripe target for the Vaulday too. This is set in the future, but not to far in the future. It is familiar in a furtuistic way.

So now you know the bones. I have a twenty page very rough draft started that isn't finished.

I asked Shawn to read it and he says it sounds just like "SG1". Do you? Be honest. Should I keep going with this story? What do you think I should do with it plotwise to keep less "SG1" like? Do you have any suggestions as to style and flow? Terminology in a mythical future-like place is not easy for me. Is it confusing for you? What do you suggest I could do to improve it?

Remember this is a very rough draft. Thanks for your help.

Portal- working title

The body on my back was slowing me down. It didn’t matter that Dawn was only skin and bones, just over a hundred pounds, or that I could bench press my own weight. I had been running four miles straight out and knew if I didn’t reach the portal soon we would be killed.
“We’re almost to the Portal!”
There was a soft hum in my ear as the communikay activated, followed by, “Roger that, Saline Say. We’re tracking coordinates and charging door.”
The team couldn’t show the portal’s location more than a minute before I got there, otherwise the Vaulday would be able to locate us.
Sudden light flashed in front us, shimmering into the night sky like a growing star. I doubled my efforts, only one hundred feet.
“We’re detecting Vaulday!”
Fuck, that was fast!
I cursed again hearing the air vibrate as the enemy’s fighter ships apparated above us and began firing, rocks and earth flying off the ground at my feet. Dust clouded the air around us and the portal wavered just feet from our location. I held my breath and dove into the white light.
Electricity surged through my head and spread to my limbs, causing my body to shake uncontrollably and Dawn to fall from my shoulders. I groped blindly for her, but fell through the exit before I could make contact.
The impact of my shoulder on the padded landing on the other side seared through my torso, the pop of dislocation echoing with my cry of pain. I stopped rolling at the bottom of the ramp, and turned over on my hands and knees in time to see Dawn fall through the blinding light as limp as a rag doll. I jumped forward, taking as much of her weight as I could.
The portal zapped shut and we were surrounded by the medical team within seconds. Dawn was caught in the transportation beam and floating toward the docking bay doors before I could stand.
“Be still Say.”
Now on my feet, I looked down at Anna Med with what I hoped was an appropriately important look. “We can’t walk and talk, Med?”
Without waiting for an answer I followed the junior Meds moving Dawn down the corridor. I caught up with them and almost wished I hadn’t. Dawn looked worse under the fluorescent lights than she had under the soft glow of the moon.
“How is she?” The junior meds shook their heads bleakly and hurried on toward the med lab. I stood still, leaning against the concrete wall, not sure I wanted to continue. What if Dawn didn’t make it?
“Thank you,” Anna Med said, letting the xona-goggles fall from her forehead to cover her eyes. “You’ve dislocated your shoulder again, Say,” she said with a sigh and an unbelieving shake of her head, speaking into her notetaker. “How many times is this? Four?”
“Five.” I winced as she pressed her fingers into my side and frowned.
“Not to mention bruised ribs and other assorted cuts and abrasions.” Anna Med took hold of my elbow and led me down the hall.
“I’m fine.” I waved her off, but like a determined fly she kept at me.
“You’re dehydrated and your lungs look like you’ve been smoking again.”
“Oh for the love of…will you just leave me alone.”
The med lab was near empty, a far sight better than it had been when I had left two weeks before. All the beds and the floors had been covered with the wounded, the lab pushed to its limits.
That had been the day the Vaulday had taken Dawn.
Now, she was hooked up to the heart monitor and the organ beat in a strong reassuring pulse throughout the lab.
“She’ll be fine, Saline,” Anna Med said approaching the floating woman. “It’s mostly dehydration and hunger.” She moved the goggles to the top of her head, pulling her blonde hair behind her ears as she did so. “She’ll be needing Psychics more than us.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. The Vaulday were especially brilliant at warping the mind to steal information and by doing so, destroying the soul. Not that it would matter in most circumstances of capture. Once the torture was over, the captives were placed into breeding farms and used to multiply the Vaulday’s population. A practice that had been keeping their race alive since before we made contact with them.
Dawn had been in their hands for two weeks.
“On the table,” Anna Med said.
I took a seat.
“Sorry there’s no way but the old fashioned one to fix this,” she pulled my arm up an out. “Ready?”
My breath held, and I gritted my teeth as she put her weight into the push, jamming my arm back into the socket.
“You okay, Say?”
I felt faint, but the incredible pain was gone. I nodded and she handed me a bottle of water.
“Plenty of fluids and no more kamikaze missions, Say.”
“Roger that.” My ear hummed. “Briefing in 0100 hours.”


“I only have an hour Robo1,” I said as I stepped from the shower.
“I have already programmed myself for the appropriate time line.”
Dawn had given me Robo1 when we had our path joining. Robo1 was meant to be a companion for when she was traveling on business. As a senator of the Legion she sometimes spent weeks at a time portalling the solar system, meeting with different dignitaries to fight our common enemy, the Vaulday.
This had suited me fine. Before, Dawn, I had been a loner. I certainly liked my women, but only on a no-strings, sex only basis. A warrior certainly has no right to a permanent relationship and a family is out of the question. The average age of passing was thirty-two for a woman in my line of work.
“Please lie down, Say.”
The robot nudged me toward the bed with its warm fingers. This beautiful piece of machinery held an opalescent shimmer and was the same height, shape and weight as my wife. Dawn’s intonations were in its voice and it smelled of the moonflower. Just like Dawn. My eyes welled and I forced the tears back. She was going to be fine.
I cleared my throat. “Music.” The soft melodic strains of strings and pipes glided through the room.
I lie down on the mattress and felt Robo1 lean over me. She ran her smooth hands over my back and shoulders, the heat animating from her fingertips melted my angry sore muscles. Cylindrical pressure slid down my spinal column and cupped my waist, traveling up my rib cage.
Dawn had taught me that family was the only reason for being a warrior


“You never cease to amaze me Say,” Berta said, patting my back with a skinny hand. “Say was surrounded, enemy fighters surrounding her ship, blasting from nearly every angle…”
I felt myself blushing. I almost hated it when she went on like this.
“…we’re sure this is the end. Many better pilots have perished under these conditions,” she paused for dramatic affect and winked in my direction.
“…gee, thanks…”
“The Say activates the hyper drive from the air and hits the auto-eject button,” our audience of beautiful young ladies leans in closer. “Her plane rockets forward taking out two enemy fighters. And while she is flying through the air, gun-fire erupting all around her…”
A very attractive red-head leans in close enough for me to feel her silk covered nipples on my bare forearm.
“…she pulls her M-6 fire balls from her belt and tosses them, hitting two other enemy fighters before she makes contact with the ground.”
On my other arm is a blonde, and I am taken aback when I look down into her limpid blue eyes. Is she of legal age?
“I’m not so sure if this was brilliant or an act of complete idiocy.”
“Hey!”
“One of the enemy fighters incinerates on the spot, nothing but ash falling to the ground. But the other wasn’t hit dead on and it came crashing to the earth with the Say, nearly taking her out with it.”
“Were you scared?” the blonde asked breathlessly.
“There was no time to be scared,” I answered. I’m a cocky bitch.
“Just time to destroy a multi-million dollar fighter jet,” said a petite brunette coming down the staircase behind Tina. “Not the first, I might add.”
Senator Dawn.
The senator had been on my radar for close to two years now. I had made her my business when I began receiving complaints from the Legion for my “high flying vigilante tactics.”
Before tonight, she had been an image in a picture and she did not photograph well. In fact, I nearly didn’t recognize her. This was the first time I had seen her out of the very official, very ugly l looking structured suits she insisted on wearing. Someone must have chosen her clothes for her this evening, because tonight she glowed under the lights. The sheer sparkling layers of her dress hinted at a surprisingly hot body underneath. Ethereal was the word that came to mind. She rivaled a fairy from the planet Aireen. Impressive.
“I apologize, Senator.” I approached her as she came down the marble staircase. Dawn offered me her hand in greeting. I bent slightly at the waist, greeted her knuckles with my lips. Moonflower. “For destroying a few jets while saving Windfree.”
“For that I am grateful, although I do wish you would think of a way to take care of the Vaulday that didn’t involve brute force.”
The woman was impossible.
“I love a little brute force,” said the red-head, reattaching herself to my arm.
The senator’s eyes flashed.
“Me too!” the blonde said, sure not to be left out.
I offered each an elbow before turning on the group. We walked past the senator, up the stairs and out of the ballroom toward my quarters.
The three of us barely made it to my room before the girls were unbuttoning my pants and sliding their hands under my dress uniform. This was one of the perks of being the best fighter pilot in the Legion; an endless supply of beautiful women.
We kissed our way into my quarters, clothes falling to the floor, furniture toppling over. They pushed me onto the bed. The blonde took hold of my pants and drawers and whipped them down my legs, spread my knees and began licking my pussy as if she were starved. The red-head had unbuttoned my shirt and was sucking my nipples while she frigged herself. I didn’t even know their names.


“Time to dress, Say,” Robo1 said, drawing me from my memory. “The Generesss expects you in half an hour.”
I sat up and quickly put on my daily uniform. There was enough time to stop back in med lab before heading to the briefing room. I hurried down the corridors, passers-by saluting as I passed.
In my absence Dawn had been bathed and medicated. She laid still and serine against the white sheets. Some of the color had returned to Dawn’s cheeks, which meant she was taking the sustenance shots well.
Her hand was light in my own.
Do you promise to protect and love, shelter and forgive this woman, until your paths end?
I leaned over her body and pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“I love you.” My lips touched hers in a soft kiss.
Our lips met and I knew that I would never live a day in my life without Dawn, she was my end of the road.


My arms began to shake as I lifted the bar over my chest, letting my breath carry it just a bit higher before lowering the weight back toward my breasts. I pushed forward with my last rep, my arms shaking with fatigue and pings of pain shooting to my shoulders.
“You should really have someone spotting you,” Dawn said walking into the gym and jogging over to grab the bar from my hands, nearly dropping it on me.
“Two!” the bars weight lightened instantly.
“You trying to kill me?” I sat up on the bench and took the bar from her hands before she hurt herself.
“Sorry,” she said. “You looked like you weren’t going to make it.”
“Know how many times I’ve been told that?”
Dawn laughed. “Point taken,” she jumped up onto the step climber. “Four percent incline, six miles per hour.” The machine began moving, Dawn finding her rhythm quickly. I couldn’t help but notice she was wearing a deliciously small work-out ensemble.
I brought my water bottle to my lips and took a long swig, my eyes focused on her breasts, larger than I would have expected. She managed to hide them under those deplorable suits.
“Look your fill?” she snapped, her pace quickening, adding bounce to her babies.
“Not sure that’s possible,” I winked and stood.
“You are such an ass Say!”
“Why thank you for noticing,” I said glancing over my shoulder at my muscled posterior.
“Impossible woman!”
The senator wouldn’t meet my eyes, just stared down at the front of the machine.
I stepped close, leaning into her ear. “Not if you ask nicely.” Moonflower and sweat. She turned her head and met eyes, our breath mingling.
“Wanna fuck, Say?”
“Now?” I was so surprised that it was the only answer that popped into my head. Dawn laughed, a chuckle that danced along my spine, between my legs and tickled my toes.
“I’m not busy, are you?”


The briefing room was empty aside from the Generess. She was a short muscular woman, looking unfortunately, a bit like a bull dog. That aside, her attributes were many. A mentally stellar woman, much brighter than I could ever hope to be and a tactical genius to boot. She made an awesome death by chocolate. Loyalty inspiring like none that I had ever worked under. My respect and friendship was very real for Dorthy Generess.
I stood at attention across from the meeting table.
“At ease, Say. Take a seat.”
I sat down facing the Generess and she tossed a folder in front of me, and opened the one in front of her.
“I am glad to hear that the senator has returned home safely.” She rifled through the papers.
“Thank you, Generess.”
“It is unfortunate that you had to violate Legion code and disobey a direct order in order to retrieve her.”
“Permission to speak freely, Generess?”
“Permission granted, Say.” The Generess sighed and leaned back in her chair, lacing her hands over her stomach.
“I knew I would never be granted permission to go to Vauld to retrieve the senator,” I shifted in my seat. “She is my wife, and I could not let her stay in their stronghold and possibly be turned into a breeder.”
“And that is why the Legion is willing to overlook this code violation.” She tapped her file of papers on the desk and closed the file.
“That, and the fact that you and your team have managed to save our world from destruction on several occasions.” Generess Dorthy smiled a tight little smile, a dimple softening her face.
“But what about the other captives?” I leaned across the table. “Once our people are taken we assumed that once they were set up in a breeding facility they could not be removed without being killed. With Intel that the Senator was able to gain during her capture we now know this is not true. Some of our people have been breeders on Vauld for years! They are also able to live with proper medical rehab.”
“All Intel up until this point has confirmed that assumption.”
“Intel was wrong. There are more than three hundered of our people being held by the Vaulday.” I could still see there tortured faces, each hooked up to a breeding machine as their eyes pleaded with me for release or mercy. Unable to help them, I threw Dawn over my back and made my way out of the lock-up. I met the Generess’s eyes. “We must launch a full scale rescue mission as soon as possible.”
“Say, after the attack two weeks ago, I am afraid we do not have the man power to launch such a rebuttal.”
“All I need is my team, Alpha 4 and Alpha 11,” I hurried on. “Those are our strongest units, Generess. I am positive I will be able to rescue…”
“What condition are these people in, Say? Are they in the same condition as the Senator?”
“Generess…”
“You are not thinking Say! You can not carry all of these people out on your shoulders.”
“The newest arrivals will not be in the same…”
“The answer is no.”
I stood slamming my hands down on the table.
“Do not overstep my leniency, Say.”
I reigned myself in, trying to calm my breathing.
“I will meet with the Worlds’ Council tomorrow morning to discuss the most appropriate action to retrieve our people.”
I nodded.
“Good day, Say.” The Generous stood and walked out of the room.


(Sex scene, first time they had sex, not written yet.)Dawn’s lips latched onto mine as if my breath would sustain her life. We had barely made it out of the gym and into the locker room. I had always thought Dawn would be one for perfumed sheets and rose petals, but this tiny vixen wanted it hard and I was gonna give to her.
We kissed are way through the locker room, finding ourselves in the


The door to our quarters slid open and I gasped. No, shrieked and skipped my way into Dawn’s arms.
“What are you doing out of the med lab?” I said into her hair, breathing in soap and the pure wonderful scent of my wife. She leaned into my body, letting me hold her weight against me. Tears turned into giggles as I lifted her in my arms and carried her over to the sofa.
“Anna Med said I was weak but could just as easily rest at home,” she sniffed. I handed her a tissue from the box on the end table.
Warm and real, she fit under the nook of my shoulder. Breathing beside me.
“You will have to give me my sustenance shots though.”
“Of course, senator,” I teased. “Where would you like me to stick you?”
Dawn laughed again, which led to a fit of coughing. I rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.
“I am so glad you’re alright,” I whispered, feeling tears choke my throat. “When I first saw you…I thought…I th…”
“I’ll be okay, Saline,” my wife said. And with those words, all of the uncertainty, worry, and fear I had been holding in for two weeks, tumbled out between us in great heaving sobs. Together we cried for our people, our world and each other.
When we could cry no more, we were still, Dawn asleep in my arms and me feeling like a new woman. I peered down at my wife, her face soft and relaxed, like a child. My lips grazed her brow and I carefully moved from under her and slipped my arms beneath her legs and shoulders. She was so tiny and delicate, made even more so by her time with the Vaulday.
Within moments the healing blanket was covering Dawn and her shots given. Her soft little snores filled the room and I made my way over to the information station. I wanted to prepare for the mission that was sure to come; the one that probably would mean the beginning or the end of all that was.


(another sex scene, wedding night) “Our paths are one, my love,” Dawn said. She threw her leg over my waist, layers of sky blue fabric billowing around us on the sea breeze, blending with canopy of blue above us, as if she were an angel. She leaned over me, taking my hands in hers, and brought her breasts flush with mine, separated by two thin layers of fabric. My new wife in her bridal gown and me in my bridal suit.
Elbows and exposed knees pointing toward are ceiling.


“Council, as a senator of the Legion of the world of Windfree I would like to thank you for coming to our world for a council meeting on such short notice.”
Dawn was wearing one of her atrocious suits, and it hung on her even more unflattering with her recent weight loss. How could a woman so beautiful look so bad? I shook my head. She looked enough though. Certainly a bit pale, but her resolve to discuss her capture was in the stiffness of her spine and the sparks in her eyes.
My wife stood proud before the ten members of the council representing the ten universes of the System. One council member to represent hundreds of worlds, a pretty heavy responsibility. Also, all military personnel on base not off world.
“When I was taken during the raid of our Portal facility two weeks past, I was not prepared for the danger,” she said, her eyes touching each of the council members. “Hearing tales of the Vaulday is very different than coming face to face with them in person. They had become almost a fairytale to me, a story told to children at night in order to keep them behaving well in the light of day.”


“The Vaulday have been detected over the planet,” Saline said strapping her phaser gun harness over her muscular shoulders. It couldn’t be.
“What! They’ve never gotten his close without detection,” I objected, unwilling to believe that our enemy was so stealthy they could enter our solar system undetected. The comminkay buzzed in my ear. “Senator, be in council room in five minutes.”
Saline, geared up for a mission, was an awesome sight to behold. The black tank top, although modest, outlined every hour she spent at the gym. The serviceable black cargo pants, when strapped with her leather amo belt strung with M6 grenades, hung low on her hips, flashing skin at her waist. Saline lifted hear arms and adjusted the phaser on her back, biceps flexing, the tattoo of a black bird dancing on her tanned arm.
My partner bent over the information console, her cargos stretching taught across her ass, and I felt the familiar twitch in my pussy. Animal magnetism, that’s what it was. A primal need to mate.
My wedding band began to warm as she activated its monitoring system.
“Do you think this is necessary?”
Just then, code red lights began flashing in the room and the sirens began to sound. Not in all of my twenty-eight moons had we known a code red. Not since my mother’s time. Our detection systems had become too advanced.
I could hear people running in the halls, preparing for battle.
Saline’s eyes were very serious, and she was looking at me as if she wanted to memorize my features.
“As you know, this ring is a homing device,” she said pulling me into her tight embrace. “If by some horrible twist of fate you are captured I will find you, my love.”
The comminkay buzzed in Salines’s ears and she pulled back. I could literally see her face change from that of my loving wife, to hard kick-ass warrior.
“I love you, Dawn.” And with that, she rushed out of our rooms.
The base was frought with fear, families were crowding the halls, young girls clinging to their mother’s hands in the crush of the panic. Our people were on their way to the portal docking facilities. Whenever a code red was issued it was mandatory that all the people of Windfree, not a part of the military or the Legion, to evacuate to one of the safe planets of the World Council.

Quote of the Day

"Nothing risque, nothing gained." -Alexander Woollcott (1887-1943)