Posts Tagged ‘contest’
Polls close Friday, May 2nd, at 5pm EST.
Donate to RAINN & let ‘em know I sent you – add “GBBMC2008″ and “Mr. Sinclair Sexsmith” in the information box.
In April, I’m taking part in the RAINN fundraiser and book marketing campaign for Carly Milne’s recently published Sexography (great cover, right?). I’ll be writing about sex (a stretch, I know) and encouraging all you readers to donate to RAINN, the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network – but here’s the catch, you gotta tell ‘em I sent you! put “GBBMC2008″ and “Mr. Sinclair Sexsmith” in the information box when you donate, and they’ll track which bloggers get the most donations, and there are some fabulous prizes – grand prize is over three thousand dollars worth of goodies.
And considering most of it looks to be femme-type gifts (hand cream, necklace bracelet & earrings, lingerie, lipstick), I will definitely be re-gifting them to all you readers, if in fact I win. Perhaps that’ll entice you?
The Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network is the nation’s largest anti-sexual assault organization. RAINN operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline with a nationwide partnership of more than 1,100 local rape treatment hotlines, providing victims of sexual assault with free, confidential services around the clock. The hotline helped 137,039 sexual assault victims in 2005 and has helped more than one million since it began in 1994. RAINN’s goal is to expand its hotline services with the National Sexual Assault Online Hotline, which will be the nation’s first secure web-based hotline that provides live, secure and completely confidential help to victims 24/7 through an interface as intuitive as instant messaging. RAINN educates more than 120 million Americans each year about sexual assault. RAINN also publicizes the hotline’s free, confidential services; educates the public about sexual assault; and leads national efforts to improve services to victims and ensure that rapists are brought to justice. RAINN is the nation’s largest anti-sexual assault organization and has been ranked as one of America’s 100 Best Charities by Worth Magazine.
By turns serious and playful, Sexography maps the coming of age, tragedy and rebirth of one woman’s sexual self. From “making out” with imaginary Hollywood stars in her closet (and getting busted) to coming to terms with abuse, assault and rape, from embracing her curiosity enough to become a sex toy tester to accepting and dealing with her tumultuous past, Carly Milne paints a brutally honest – and, at times, amusing – picture of what it’s like to learn about and experience sex in every sense of the word. From the earliest experiences in her childhood homes in Edmonton and Calgary, Alberta to present day Los Angeles, Milne guides readers through the sometimes troubled waters of female sexuality with a mixture of candidness and humor. Whether you’ve been through similar experiences or just know someone who has, Sexography will change your mind about why and how survivors survive.
Pretty damn smart advertising, & way to get the word out, I gotta say. I haven’t decided exactly how I’m going to approach this yet, but I’ll be doing something somewhat special. Got any suggestions?
Here it is again – you’re gonna be sick of this tag by the end of April: Donate to RAINN & let ‘em know I sent you – add “GBBMC2008″ and “Mr. Sinclair Sexsmith” in the information box.
I know you’re starting to not believe me about this Sugarbutch Star Contest coming to a close and all, but I really am going to post the last and final piece soon. And after I do that, voting will commence right away … so review your options, pick your favorites, know who you’re going to vote for.
Here’s the options.
Here’s how it works: Readers submitted an erotic scenario, detailing plot, setting, and characters. I picked my favorites and wrote them into erotic stories, readers will vote on their single favorite. Prizes TBA. The contest ran from July 17th to August 7th, and I got 54 (!) submissions.
Here are the submissions I chose to write up:
“You have to be quiet,” I say. “We’re not alone.”
“We almost are,” she breathes, closing her eyes and tilting her head so I can get to her neck. My fingers run lazy circles around her clit and inner lips, slick already. I dip two fingers inside and feel her muscles pulsing. Slide them in & out while she begins to pant. I circle her clit again, flick it gently and feel her body contract and respond.
“Anybody could walk in at any second,” I say. “Anybody could see my hand under your skirt, if they looked for just a second.” She shivers and presses her thighs open, presses her cunt against my hand, grips my forearm in one hand. I’m working her clit a little harder, a little faster, and her breathing is coming heavier, her body is tense. She’s trying to keep her face still.
Lady Brett Ashley: Threesome and a Purple Tie
“Tell her to get on her knees,” I say to Eli.
“Get on your knees,” Eli says, unbuttoning and sliding her jeans off, pulling the harness on.
Brett sinks. She brings her hands behind her back and I put my hands in her hair, then move one to my fly and cock. I finger her lips, pretty mouth, and she takes two of my fingers between her teeth, sucks them onto her tongue. Soft.
Actions become blurred. My cock. Brett’s jeans pulled off and on the ground. Eli fingering Brett while she sucks me, the lovely noises from her throat as she tries not to come, not yet. Eli clearly knows what to do and doesn’t let up, Brett arches her back like a cat and nearly hangs from my legs, gripping my thighs with her hands as she sucks my cock, pulling on my jeans until they come down with my briefs and she slides two fingers under my favorite harness to find my clit. She works it like a cock, strokes it and rolls it gently between her fingers. I groan, hips buck. Lord.
bird : The Hitchhiker
“Tight little pussy,” Jack murmured, one hand on her ass, spreading her cheeks. “Feels so good to open you with my big cock.”
Jack thrust harder, grunting. “Aw yeah, aw god yeah.” Alice gasped with each hard thrust, impaled, in a bit of pain but also exquisite sensation, hips pressing apart, back arching deeper, mouth open and gasping. She lifted one foot up onto the three piled bags of garden dirt in the corner of the truck and spread her legs for Jack.
“You like that, don’t you. Dirty girl. You’ve been waiting for someone like me to come along and fuck you right, haven’t you. Haven’t you.” Jack thrust harder, slower, then sharp.
“Yes, oh god, Jack, fuck me,” Alice moaned. Jack slid one arm around her waist and twisted, pulled out and shoved her onto the fertilizer, dropping her on her ass harshly and she reached down to catch herself with her hands, her legs slightly tangled in the fabric of her tiny shorts.
Avah : Fucking a Porn Star
The girl whispered something, groaned, into the pillow.
“Uh sorry?” Avah said, both hands on the girl’s hip bones, leaning forward to hear her better.
“Fuck me,” the girl said again, clearly this time, turning her head to the side, red hair falling over her face. “Please, oh god please.”
“Mmm,” Avah agreed, drawing back down the girl’s body to her ass and exposed cunt, two fingers running over her lips and clit, swollen from the long night of sex, from the sensory overload, from the submission.
The girl moaned deliciously with each touch.
Avah grinned and kept her grip on the girl’s hip bones, slid two fingers inside her slick cunt easily. The girl sighed, heavy, and opened deeper. Avah slid out and added another finger, a little tighter with three, the girl inhaled and squirmed a little, so eager, so open.
Grey: Charcoal Portrait in the Art Studio
I drop my charcoal. My fingers are blackened with it. Her lips are at my ear: “Which curves are you still missing?” She takes my hand, sets it on her hip. “This one?” On her stomach. “This?” On her thigh. “Here?”
I swallow the hesitation in my throat.
“Come on,” she says. “You can do better than that.” And I can.
The Femme Top: Untitled
I can feel everything. Every breath every movement every inch where my skin is bound with leather. Wrists, ankles. I can hear my heart beat. Can see my chest moving up and down, the skin thin and flushed. I swallow. Focus on the ceiling; you are kneeling, strapping on. Hand on the thick of it, slick with lube. I am exposed. Open to you and you want me here, this way.
Jennifer: The Popsicle in the Library
“You know there’s no food allowed in the library,” I growl in her ear, pressing her stomach against the concrete stairwell wall. I’m speaking quietly but it still echoes.
“Unh,” she groans, not able to form words, mouth open.
“Not very polite of you, breaking the rules like that.” I lift her dress and shove my hands under the edge of her panties. She’s wet.
“Oh, you like this, do you? You’re enjoying this?” I flick my fingers over her cunt, then pull my hand away. She wimpers, echoing in the stairwell.
Bad Bad Girl: The Straight Girl at the Dyke Bar
” … we’re going to do this my way.”
I brought my lips down on hers hard, crushing, devouring, insistent. She whimpered, back curving. I held her body at the precise angle and distance that I wanted, and she went limp in my arms, gave over, arms and shoulders falling back, on her toes.
Pulling away, I grinned. Took a step back. Kept my eyes on her, touched my lower lip with my thumb and felt that stirring in my stomach, that desire, that power.
Madeline: Her Mouth on My Cock
That’s all I really wanted, all night long, in those moments when we touched fingertips and knees sitting next to each other, the one time when I took her slender body into the circle of my arms and wrapped around her, cock tight against her and she could feel it, surely she could, moved her thigh against me and pulled her face away from the nuzzle of the nape of my neck to give me those eyes, those eyes, those pretty eyes and my hand at the back of her neck where her hair is short and thin, delicate, dancing when she shakes her head or laughs which of course she does all night, mouth wide and open, lips pulled over teeth and oh I want to remember what that feels like …
Jefferson: Cross-Country Girl Adventures
“I can’t relax,” he says again, going over to the bars that separate our cell from hers. She lifts her head and sighs.
“Fine,” she says, rising and walking toward him. I hear them both moving but keep my eyes shut. “Unzip.”
He pauses. “Yeah?”
She glances back at her boyfriend, in the cell adjoining hers, passed out cold. “This offer’s gonna expire,” she says.
Jefferson unzips and meets the black bars with his bony hips, cock poking through.
Which is your favorite?