Through Squinted Eyes

Aldgate to Liverpool Street by Caroline Hall

Aldgate to Liverpool Street by Caroline Hall –View more of Carolines work at: Caroline Hall


I can hear the birds singing and know it is time to wake. You come in my room, through my squinted eyes I see the sunny orange glow of morning light and you in the middle – your paint-splattered blue jeans on.

“You awake love?” you softly ask and I mumble a response. I reach my arm out and when you grab my hand I pull you down to me. “Let’s stay in bed all day, please?” You nuzzled next to me, “I have to finish my project, and you know that.”

Sighing as I slowly take off my tee “I know, but I could be a project too if you would like – you could paint me…You can paint here” and I touch my chest.

You jump up “I’ll be right back.” I lay with my eyes closed waiting and hear you coming back. I feel the cool touch of paint as you start stroking my body. I open my eyes and see the colors of love.


My part in a WordPress Challenge



It’s Friday and I am in the mood to Flash!!!

imagesMan is the only creature who has a nasty mind – Mark Twain

She sits in her long wool coat, waiting.  Passenger after passenger gets off the plane and still no sign of her love.  Her hands tremble with anticipation, moisture and heat radiating from between her legs.  What am I doing, she thinks – her thought interrupted as her love walks off plane. Eyes link, and they both smile.

“You came to meet me? You hate airports.” Her lover said wrapping her in a hug. “Why are you in a wool coat it is almost 60 degrees outside?”

She sheepishly looks down at her coat. Opens her coat and cocoons her lover in with her – and smiles. “Surprise” is all she says.



My part in a WordPress Challenge

Ever have a fantasy?

return-28 Ever have a fantasy?  I did.  For as long as I could remember. I wanted to be kissed by Princess Leia.  Now this is probably a normal fantasy for most boys in my generation.  The difference for me – I am a girl.

I was given dolls to play with, I was told that I would get married one day – to a boy. I was programed, you will marry a boy, you will have a kid who will continue the process.  That was the way it was.

As I grew up my fantasy girl changed.  There was the Laura Ingalls years, the Jo from “The Facts of Life” (really I should have seen that coming).  Don’t get me wrong – several men made my list too.  Sean Connery, Adam Levine, and a guy that owns a local coffee shop all made the guys I would fuck list.  But truly it was women on my mind and kissing my princess.  So, it makes sense that at 20 I got married and by 24 had 2 lovely kids right?

Wait, stop, what?

True enough, I didn’t figure out what my Princess Leia fantasy was trying to tell me until I had been married for over 15 years.  Not sure what to call myself if I were to slap a label on me – Bi, Lesbian, Curious?  I just know I wasn’t happy and I still hadn’t kissed that princess.

I started the divorce process and joined the local Pride Chorus.  Not looking for love, just wanting to sing and meet like minded women. This started me down the path to my fantasy coming true.  Our choir was performing at a local art/music festival.  A close friend had come to watch and we had decided to stay after the choirs set and enjoy an evening of music.  She had just gone through a break-up and was upset – so I held her hand and hugged her often throughout the night.  Little did I know that these loving touches would lead to my princess.

At work the next morning I was greeted with an email:

How did I not know that you were available?  Why is it I miss out on all the hot women in this town?


Was this a mistake? This beautiful woman from choir found me attractive? How should I respond – I was flummoxed. Luckily she IM’d me just as I was starting an email back.

K: You there?

Me: Yeah

K: Who was that girl last night?  Your girlfriend?

Me: No, just a friend.

K: Awesome, so you are available and a lesbian?

Wow, straight and to the point – I struggled with what to say next.  Truth is best in this right?

Me: I am going through a divorce currently because yes – I am a lesbian – I guess.

There it is – I labeled myself – to a woman I barely know.  Minutes tick by, no response.  Did I over share?  Did I not share enough? Did I screw this up?  Why was my stomach in knots?  Then she typed:

K: So want to have lunch today?

Me: Sure

K: See you at noon – I can’t wait.

We exchange where to meet.  What had I done?  I was meeting this woman, what would we talk about, what would be expected? Seriously, I had not dated in years – crap decades. The rules were different then… that was boy/girl rules.  I don’t know girl/girl rules. What happens in the girl/girl world?  Time seemed to stand still. Butterflies had taken residence in my belly, and I was trying to figure a way out.  About 20 minutes before noon my computer beeped.

K: You still here?

Me: Yup

I was panicked – was she going to cancel? All of a sudden the butterflies were tangoing.

K: You nervous?

Me: Yes

K: Good

Then she logged off.  I stood up and realized my panties were wet – not damp – wet. What is this?  This new – I rush to the bathroom.  I am so warm, and wet, and wanting.  I have never felt this way with my ex – what is this longing I am feeling.  I don’t even know this woman.  I feel wanted.

At noon I walk up to the restaurant, she was already there.  She is beautiful. Her eyes sparkle as she links with mine.  She smiles and my stomach flips.  Warmth spreading though my core.

I sit and she reaches across the table and grabs my hand.  I am 30 something and know that this will sound corny – but you know that electric feel people write about, that doesn’t begin to explain what I felt. The warmth that was building explodes and I know that I am more than wet with wanting.  I pulled back – I know my face was flushed.

She laughed, “Wow, are glowing.  Have you ever been in a relationship with a woman?” “No,” I whisper. “Let’s start with the easy stuff then shall we? How long were you married?” She guides.  I gather myself, trying not to focus on her lips, “I was married for 15 years.” “You must have gotten married very young.” Blushing I tell her that I was 20 when I married.  Her comment after that was “Yes, we will go very slow,” as she reached across the table and took back my hand.

She held my hand through most of that lunch.  I would like to tell you what else she said,  how witty I was, or how intellectual I sounded.  But I am almost sure I could not string more than five words in a row.  All I could do was feel.  The heat of her touch, the motion she made when caressing the back of my hand, the ever present tug in my belly wanting more of her touch.  This feeling of being out of control – my body reacting in way it never had before.  How I made it though lunch I will never know.  As she walked me back to my office we planned to have lunch at her house tomorrow.

Then the damnedest thing happened.  She kissed me. My mind went blank, her lips touching mine, her tongue seeking entrance then exploring my mouth. Her arm around my waist and holding me close.  Then she released the spell she had wove – kissed my cheek and headed home.  The rest of the day I was smiling, wet, wanting, and wonderful.

My princess kissed me, now it wasn’t Leia but it was so much better. My fantasy came true.  The best part is now I had a new fantasy and I got to see her the next day.


What comes first?

Ha, that is a loaded question – ha – that is funny too.  Okay, so now that my 12 year-old mind has been revealed, what I was referring to was title vs story.  What comes first?  Does the story generate the title or does the title drive the story?

I know you want me to get to the writing – but I am a whopping 24 hours in and I am stumped… I have bits of story in my head but then I get all wrapped up in the TITLE.  I mean some titles are amazing and some – well some are “punny.”

romance books

Title is important as you want to grab the reader, hook them into the story.  But with out the story you cannot have a title.  Okay – so for me to move on I need a story – oh I have that.  Then the title – yup have that.  Well all that is left is to write.  Okay off to write – keep posted I will try to add some each day.

Oh and I am still not sure which came first – but as long as you read my story – it doesn’t matter.

Why write Erotica?

I was talking with a friend who edits books for a living.  She was telling me that there is a market out there for erotic books and that I should write some.  Errr… who me?  What do I know about being erotic? What do I know about writing?  Sure I have a degree in communication but… really… well.

It does sound fun though.  It sounds bad – and good.  Maybe not being that “experienced” will cater to a certain audience who wants innocence – or maybe my innocence isn’t that innocent.

harlequin_01Being honest, when I start thing about writing erotica – I think of a romance novel cover with the strapping man on front, chest bared, clutching a fair maiden in an embrace that stops time.  Not the kind of writing I am into – maybe if it was a woman in tight jeans, tank top, and tattoos – looking into the eyes of another woman longing for the touch of each other? Wait how about a handsome young businessman, tie loosened, hand resting on the rock hard abs of his sleeping lover. I don’t see myself as a cleaving bosom writer, or one who makes the male the strongest charterer – yes this could be fun.

So I will start here, with a very public audience.  Go big or go home, right?  Who knows – we both might like it.