Merry Xmas!

Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope you receive not quite all you wish for - a life with no aspirations would be no life at all.

Best wishes to you and yours, both for Christmas and for the impending New Year.

Lots of love,

Alexandra xxxx

#free #erotica A naughty novella: Literal Fantasies

Phew.

Xmas shopping done. A bit of wrapping and it's as good as over. I don't like Christmas, to be honest. Haven't done do for many years. The excess. The gluttony. The selfishness. The disappointment. It's madness. Bloody madness. But you point it out and everyone yells, 'Scrooge!' Go on! Yell it! I can't hear you. Louder! Wow, I heard that. You really mean it, don't you?

Anyway. 

As an antidote to the saddest of celebrations, I am giving away a book. Unusually for me, It's not a collection of shorts, but rather a sleek and rather naughty little novella. Its genesis was also unusual. I received an email from an admirer (why are you laughing? I have admirers! I do!), a simple thank you, to which I replied. More emails followed. The gist of the emails - and the emails themselves, virtually word for word - provide the book with its prologue. What happens next is pure -  impure? -  fiction, but the seeds were very real. If that brings to mind 'Jack and the Beanstalk' then stop there. Though my book has 'fantasy' in the title, it has little in common with that pantomime favourite. Like 'Jack', the book is a journey, an education, a catharsis, but there are no giants, castles, golden eggs and similar fairy tale stuff. The people are very real. Sometimes too real. If that's possible. And it is.

Go on, grab a copy and have a Christmas wank on me. So to speak.

Literal fantasies on Amazon

Have a wonderful Christmas, a very happy New Year, and take very good care of yourself. Till next time,

Lots of love,

Alexandra xxx

New writing: excerpt from 'Nina', part 14 of my sexy sci-fi novel,Inversion 1

Hi

Yes, it's been ages. Fucking ages, actually. What can I say? I've been writing. That sexy sci-fi novel I've half written leapt up and grabbed my creativity by the balls and won't let go. And though I tell it I have no balls, still it refuses to let go. That's a metaphor for yer.

I'm loving it, though. The story is weaving towards some sort of climax (interspersed with the other sort of climax) and seems to have a mind of its own. For example, a new character popped up, completely unexpectedly, fully formed and sexy as fuck. I love her, though have almost killed her off twice. Anyway, here's a short section of the latest action, a meeting between Nina, a humanoid female, and an actual female, which takes place on a very large spaceship. I do hope you enjoy it.

In the new year, I will hopefully have more time for you :)

Take care,

Alexandra xxxx

Excerpt from 'Nina', part 14 of 'Inversion 1'

The kiss was unexpected; the hand on my left tit was even more so. Both were unimaginably subtle, yet simultaneously intensely powerful. The two-pronged attack saved her life. Another moment and she would have been an inanimate mess. The stark contrast between the two outcomes momentarily immobilised me and two ineluctable truths became apparent:

1.   Life and death are arbitrary;

2.   Today I am the arbiter.

It was a role I had barely considered and for which I was totally ill-prepared. The responsibility was crushing.

A hand was in my hair and a tongue was in my mouth. Though slightly less alkaline, her saliva was almost indistinguishable from my own, a minor detail that gave me major confidence in my creative abilities. My left hand fingers combed through her long, dark hair then  twisted into a clump and forced our mouths into more passionate contact. An insistent knee parted her thighs and I pressed her against the wall. As our bodies eased together, tits clashed, parted and tessellated. My right hand followed her spine, sliding beneath the waist band of her cargo pants, over her coccyx and into her knickers, separating her arse cheeks before stabbing unsuccessfully at her tight, dry sphincter. She was gasping noisily, frantically sucking air into her depths. In response, I engaged my hitherto unused respiratory simulator and pumped hot, moist breath onto her face. A thud, an accompanying clatter and her gun was on the floor. Easing me back a pace, she untied the cord at my waist, peeled the gown from my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Tits sprung free as I peeled off my vest. The gasp of raw pleasure that passed her moist lips was indescribably stimulating.

'Oh, my god.' Her open palm clasped her forehead. 'I'm a little dizzy. You're making me...'

I kissed her nose.

'You okay?'

'Yes. I just can't believe we're going to... to...'

Arousal slurred my expletive.

'Fuck?' Open mouthed, she nodded. I raised an eyebrow. 'As much as two women can fuck, yes, we are.'

There were many ways in which this was a new experience for me and, as they were becoming increasingly wont, secondary systems enumerated them.

1.  She is human.

2.  She is female.

3.  I don't know what she is thinking.

4.  I have clothes on.

Invading one's personal space can have many motives; invading one's clothing has but one, and her hand was now inside my knickers, her alien finger parting my virgin lips, its soft, twirling tip preparing to take the plunge. She paused and whispered.

'I... I never even asked your name. I'm sorry.'

'It's Nina.'

'Nina. That's beautiful. I'm Jenna.'

'I know.'

'So tell me, Nina, what is it you... need?'

Again her fingertip twirled and stirred my copious wetness.

'Pussy juice. I'm going to eat you out, Jenna.'

Her eyes rolled and closed and she fainted into my arms.

I lifted her up and cradled her. The softness of her flesh surprised me, as did the lightness of her frame. She was so young, so incredibly vulnerable. I held her till she opened her eyes, her big, brown, trusting eyes, then gently kissed her lips. She gasped as I playfully tossed her onto the bed. Sighed as I pulled off her knee-high boots. Moaned as I tugged at her cargo pants. Squealed as my teeth tore away her flimsy panties. Meanwhile, she helped herself from her t-shirt and freed her not unimpressive tits from a cleverly cantilevered bra.

Diving straight in, I slurped on her cunt. She came almost immediately, yet begged me to continue, my fingers and tongue moving quickly, lightly and untiringly, both on and within the hot, raw gash that gaped between her deceptively muscular thighs. I loved her taste, recognised immediately the combination of chemicals required and determined to add them to my own intimate signature at the earliest opportunity.

Every contact made her eyes roll and again she came, her cries ringing around the hard, bare, cuboid space.

'Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck! Oh, Nina! What in the name of heaven are you?'

Her voice was ragged, her breath torn. I slid my tongue from her anus, my fingers from her squelching cunt and told her the unlikely truth.

'I'm a Resistance robot, come to kill you all. To steal your ship then travel to Inversion 1 and slaughter the whole goddamn Executive.'

She laughed, the convulsions pumping foaming juice from her slit. I lapped it up as she verbally expressed her incredulity.

'On your own?'

'No, of course not.' I echoed her laugh. 'With my brother.'

Three further orgasms and she was bordering on insensible. One more and she was again unconscious. If this female specimen were at all representative, humans were decidedly delicate creatures.

#Free #Erotica from the pervy pen of Alexandra Amalova

Measuring up: an indispensable compendium of eclectic erotica

Buy it here!

So hot, it melted the press. So funny, it split its own sides with mirth. So insightfully human, the Bible is now redundant.

None of the above are strictly true. There was no press. It has no sides. The Bible is still useful for propping open that fire door. However, it is out there, released into the wild, hungrily eyeing up the coins in your pocket. 

But not this weekend! This weekend it is free! So what are you waiting for. Go! Go now! And then it will be yours, to take out on the train, to peruse at the traffic lights, to snigger at in the dentist's, and to hide when your beloved enters the room. Some of it will make you uncomfortable. The rest will make your underwear uncomfortable. Such are the depths of my artistic aims.

The sexy short stories it contains are, I believe, amongst the best I have ever written. And I should know: no one has read them as many times as I have.

So, go on, download it today. Your Kindle will be forever grateful. As will I.  :)

Love, as always,

Alexandra xxx

Cavegirl with a cellphone

Hi

Well, I got the book out of the way, smashed the champagne against its hollow hull and sent it sliding down the slipway. Phew. And here's where the work ought to begin, all the pushing and shoving, the hyping and triping. But you know what? I haven't the strength, haven't the energy. I know it sounds counter-intuitive, but I really don't have the interest in that side of it. Yes, I'd love people to read it, but that isn't the reason I wrote it. I wrote it for me, wrote each of the stories for me. I got an idea, started to write and off it went with a mind of its own. No planning. No sketching out. I just write and see where the people take me. Endings suggest themselves. Themes spring out of the ether. Done!

Don't get me wrong, it's hard work - not in a grave-digging way, not at all - but the stories mostly flow and write themselves. Okay, so I read them through a thousand times and make them mine. That goes without saying. However, I simply start and know they will go somewhere. They have to. It's what life does. Nobody ever got life-block, they just kept on living. And so with a story. On and on to its end.

And once the book was sailing merrily away, I wrote down a poem that had been slowly forming over a day or two. It's about... well, it's typed out below if you want to read it; if I could tell you what it's about then I wouldn't have needed to write the poem, would I? I think the answer to that is no, though I am not entirely sure. Anyway, here it is:

Cavegirl with a cellphone

Upright, naked, prowls the plain 

An alien race, self-conscious brain 

An ember born of sparking flint 

A revolution with no hint 

No light to shed where it may lead 

'Tis here I hone my guilt, my greed 

My sisters venture north, east, west 

While clasping newborns to their breast 

And ripping meat from rigid bone 

A cavegirl with a cellphone 

*

The beast collapses, breathes its last  

We fall upon it, kill the past  

Eternity of hunger, fear  

We dared, now share, grow ever nearer 

Cling together, fight and flee

We feed and fuck, I speak and see

While way beyond our understanding 

Stalks unseen a monster hand in 

Hand with demon seed unsown 

A cavegirl with a cellphone 

* 

Flickering flames dispel the night  

We huddle, cuddle, till the sunlight  

Frightens off the circling pack  

He hunts, I gather, hurry back  

To him. Yet waiting in a gloomy  

Future perfect secret room he 

Lies, a smooth, sweet-smelling creature  

Svelte sophisticated teacher 

Anthropo-scenic beauty once unknown  

To a cavegirl with a cellphone  

* 

I accept my lot, my life-long mate  

And cosy cave to decorate  

Existing in simplicity  

With fur and fire for luxury  

Yet out there in the ether  

Hides a snarling monster neither  

Of us has the genes to beat  

Clicks are all it takes to meet  

Now I'm found out, thrown out, living on my own  

A cavegirl with a cellphone 

* 

It's here! It's here! I'm so excited!

Released today!

Measuring up: an indispensable compendium of eclectic erotica

Buy it here!

So hot, it melted the press. So funny, it split its own sides with mirth. So insightfully human, the Bible is now redundant.

None of the above are strictly true. There was no press. It has no sides. The Bible is still useful for propping open that fire door. However, it is out there, released into the wild, hungrily eyeing up the coins in your pocket. But it's not overly voracious, will devour no more than a Starbuck's worth of rattling metal. And then it will be yours, to take out on the train, to peruse at the traffic lights, to snigger at in the dentist's, and to hide when your beloved enters the room. Some of it will make you uncomfortable. The rest will make your underwear uncomfortable. Such are the depths of my artistic aims.

The sexy short stories it contains are, I believe, amongst the best I have ever written. And I should know: no one has read them as many times as I have.

So, go on, download it today. Your Kindle will be forever grateful. As will I.  :)

Love, as always,

Alexandra xxx

A comically harrowing Halloween tale especially for you xxxx

I know this will sound incredible, unbelievable, but you have to believe me. I swear this is exactly as it happened.

There were lots to choose from, dozens, but this one sort of called to me. It did! Honestly, I know it sounds...

Anyway, when I got home, the wife just sneered at me.

'Bit early for Halloween isn't it?' 

So what? There was a week to go, but she knows I like to have a dummy run at everything I do. I wanted to make it the best Halloween ever, you know? For the kids? Anyway, Elaine went out soon after so I made a start.

I carved out the eyes first. Two symmetrical triangles topped with a thin upturned  'V' for eyebrows. They looked great. Another triangle for the nose. And then, as I cut a slit to start the mouth - you know, the traditional gaping jagged jaws - something stopped me.

Yes. Stopped me dead. A thought, a voice in my head. Can't describe it any other way. It spoke to me. No - she spoke to me.

'No, please,' in a little voice just like that, 'Please don't hurt me.' 

I dropped the knife, stepped back.

'Help me. Free me.'

Then she sobbed, her voice broke down. I cautiously placed my hand on the orange flesh, stroked it and she seemed to pull herself together. I was incredulous.

'Will you help me?'

'Yes, yes, of course.' I felt stupid, you know, talking to it like that. I looked round the house to make sure I was alone, to be certain someone wasn't playing tricks. But there wasn't a soul.

'Kiss me and I shall at last be free!'

'Kiss you?'

'Yes, it will break the spell. Kiss me. Please.'

'Spell? What spell?'

'On the eve of my wedding, All Hallows Eve, my evil stepmother - who was secretly a witch - turned me into a pumpkin. She hated me, was insanely jealous of my impending happiness. You see, I was to be betrothed to a very handsome prince and we would, in time, rule the neighbouring kingdom.’

That sounded a bit extreme, but I’ve heard of stuff like that before: family jealousy.

‘I’ve been trapped in here for a thousand years. I die as each pumpkin is consumed or decays, but I'm reborn in the seed. It is so painful to be carved, cooked, eaten... you can't imagine the torture. Worst of all is to slowly rot in the field, my beautiful flesh turning to putrefying mush.'

I had to admit that her flesh - for a pumpkin - was very beautiful.

‘But to be born again… Oh, the joy!’

'So I… kiss you?'

'Yes. Kiss me and I shall be free at last. Free to go home! Don't fail me, please!'

So I kissed the cold, firm skin, stood back and waited, but nothing happened.

'No. On the mouth. It must be on the mouth.'

'But... I haven't carved your mouth yet,' and I picked up the knife in readiness, though, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I could now even touch her with the sharp blade.

'Please, hurry. Nothing elaborate, just a hole. Hurry!'

I plunged in. It didn't take me long to cut a hole. I crouched down next to the kitchen table and peered inside, half expecting to see a tiny princess standing there, but realised that would be silly.

'Hurry! Kiss me!'

I pressed my lips to the hole, closed my eyes and wished. She didn't say anything about wishing, but I thought it might help.

Nothing.

The lifeless, hollow-eyed fruit stared at me like a skull. Alas, poor Pumpkin...

'The magic... It's too strong and I am too weak.'

'What can I do, Princess? Anything!' 

'There is only one thing now that can break the spell. It will take courage and a great sacrifice.'

'Tell me! Princess, tell me! Anything to end your suffering!'

'You alone can break the spell! And send me back to my time, my kingdom, my life... my love! But it is... it is... I’m sorry, I can't...'

'Please, Princess. Say it! Anything!' 

She was so desperate, yet so noble, kept her composure beautifully, despite her torment. She was definitely royalty. I decided to help her in any way I could.

'You are such a good man, such a pure spirit that I... I can't say it. Can't say it aloud... I'll whisper.'

And I put my ear close to the pumpkin's roughly-hewn mouth.

I was shocked, horrified by her words. I'd read lots of fairy stories, knew all the twists, but had never heard of anything like this.

'Are you... are you sure this will work?'

‘Positive. It is written.’

I turned my back on the pumpkin - not sure why - and took out the old man. I'd asked it to do some weird things in my time, but this was just about the oddest. I know what you're thinking, but I honestly could see no other way.

And no, I wasn't turned on by the thought. What do you think I am? It took me quite a while to get it up, actually, had to run through a list of well-tried scenarios before it even twitched. But I'm quite proud to say it's never let me down. And it was for a good cause.

I called over my shoulder.

'Ready when you are... Okay, Princess?'

'Please hurry! Our seed must mingle for me to be fully free. Give it to me, lover!'

Grasping the pumpkin in two hands, I positioned the tip of my manhood against the makeshift mouth and pushed. As I slid into the perfectly proportioned orifice, the cold, slimy innards surrounded me. It felt strangely pleasant. Her seeds stimulated me, titillating me with every thrust.

And yes, I know most people cut off the top and scoop the insides out before carving the features, but I don't, Okay? It's not a crime, is it! Anyway, where was I?

As I pumped the pumpkin, I envisioned the princess on her knees before me, sucking for her life. Silver tiara in her long black hair, white dress spreading out on the floor like the upturned head of a huge flower. Porcelain breasts heaving as the flesh of her cheeks were drawn in, defining her exquisite cheekbones. Blues eyes, shining, pleading, urging me on.

Closing my eyes, I imagined the soaring, elegant spires of her palace glinting in the sunlight, the broad, leafy avenues of her kingdom. Streets lined with exultant subjects, waving pennants, banners, throwing confetti. Her golden coach, drawn by four white unicorns, driven by two stately frogs in uniform. The marble steps to the cathedral and the happy throng chanting her name. And her prince - so handsome - waiting patiently, expectantly at the altar. All this brought about by me alone, with this one selfless act.

The climax approached faster than I thought possible. Suddenly, unexpectedly, I squirted my cum into the pumpkin, yelling her name as I did so, urging the magic to do its work. 

'Go Princess! Go Princess!'

There was a flash and the sound of rolling thunder. I screwed up my eyes and there she was, like in a film, standing outside the cathedral, long train of her magnificent dress snaking behind her, her prince on her arm. They looked up in unison and waved, smiling broadly. She blew me a kiss, the crowd roared... and the image faded away to nothing.'

When I opened my eyes, there stood Elaine, loaded carrier bags in hands, gawping at the pumpkin impaled on my groin. I tried to explain, but she ran upstairs and locked the door. And that’s all I can remember.

*

‘After careful consideration of all the facts, I have reached my verdict. I grant the divorce on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour. I trust you can now get on with your life, Mrs Smallwood? Right, I think we’ll take lunch now, ladies and gentlemen… (Aside to clerk:) No pumpkin soup for me today. Put me right off, this has. One of my favourites too…’

*****