Life in progress


361. Scenes from the Second Seat on the Right

Monday, August 27th, 5:00pm
Alfred and Hester


Hester: Now you’ve got your Viagra, what are you going to do when we get home?

Alfred: Obviously anything to get out of ironing my own shirts.


Next stop: Tuesday, August 28th, 5:00pm

Click here to learn all about this series, how it works, and where to find your favourite characters.


140. Scenes from the Second Seat on the Right

Note: Strong language

Thursday, January 18th, 4:00pm
Brandon and Jordan


Brandon: Why you so down today?

Jordan: What do you think?

Brandon waits quietly.

Jordan: Marissa broke up with me.

Brandon: No way!

Jordan nods and bites his nails.

Brandon: Did she say why?

Jordan shakes his head slightly but says nothing.

Brandon: Is it the sex thing?

Jordan nods.

Brandon: She doesn’t deserve you, man.

Jordan: I dunno.

Brandon: No, seriously. Stick to your guns. If sex is all she wants, she’s not worth it.

Jordan: I broke my fuckin’ ankle for her.

Brandon: Exactly.


Next stop: Friday, January 19th, 22:00

Click here to learn all about this series, how it works, and where to find your favourite characters.


Guest Post – Shades of Gray

I’m honoured to have the wonderful and talented Cordelia’s Mom guest post for me today! Thanks, CM!
Please enjoy!!

Shades of Gray



… and gray window blinds.

You know, you folks have dirty minds. Unless, of course, you immediately thought of windows when you saw the title of this post.

Personally, I’ve never understood the preoccupation with sex. Sure it’s fun, especially with a partner who knows what he or she is doing. But let’s face it – sex has been around for a very long time, and basically it consists of the same basic action: one person’s body part interacting with the body part of another person.

Each generation has become a little more sophisticated in its knowledge of sex. I grew up in the 1950’s/1960’s, when television sitcoms couldn’t even show a married couple in the same bed. I turned 18 in 1970 – just at the time that David R. Reuben, M.D. published his book, “Everything You Want to Know About Sex But Were Afraid to Ask.”

Believe me, that book was as much of a blockbuster as the current Shades of Grey – maybe even more so, because “Everything …” was not fiction.

At 18, I was still a virgin – in fact, I had never even had a date (remember – this was back when women were still supposed to remain pure until marriage). Wanting to enlighten myself, I managed to get a copy of “Everything …” and snuck it into my mother’s house, where I would read it in the privacy of my own room late at night.

Imagine my chagrin one day, when my mother asked me if I was reading that book. It was bad enough admitting to possessing that book, but imagine my absolute horror when my mother proceeded to ask me questions about it.

I mean, really? My mother had been married for many years and had four kids! At some point, she and my dad must have figured out how to do it.

But it wasn’t marital sex she was confused about. I’ll never forget our conversation wherein she said, “I can understand how homosexuals do it,” [hand gestures of pointer finger of one hand poking into the circle formed by the thumb and pointer finger of the other hand] “but how do lesbians do it?” [hand gestures of two palms flat against each other]. “I mean, girls don’t have that part. (Had she said penis, I really would have died. I knew my brothers had them – I had even diapered my baby brother – but I sure didn’t want my mother talking about them!)

I was way too embarrassed to explain about same-sex relationships (and I only knew from things I had read), so finally I just handed over the book. I don’t know if my mother became enlightened as to those issues, but she never asked me any sex questions after that (thank God in Heaven).

These days, there is no mystery surrounding sex. It finds it way not only into books, but into sitcoms, movies and advertising. I’m not sure that’s better than it was in my mother’s day.

My mother’s generation watched Jimmy Stewart trying to catch the moon for his girl, and Clark Gable carrying Scarlett up the staircase. The current generation has Shades of Grey – is that really better? I don’t think so. Although people are flocking to the movie, Shades of Grey, for the perceived sensationalism, I still think most of us would prefer a good, old-fashioned romance – even one that ends with those famous words, “Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a damn.”

Which, by the way, was considered pretty risqué at the time. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we? I’ll leave it to you to decide whether it’s been an improvement.

I love to hear from my readers. You may comment on this post, comment on my Facebook or Twitter pages, or email me at or

Images by: Colt Group
and Cordelia’s Mom
POSTSCRIPT: Thank you, Linda, for giving me this opportunity to guest post for you. I am truly honored!

You’re welcome CM!
A note for my readers: please click on over to Cordelia’s Mom’s site and read my guest post too! Thanks!!


JusJoJan Day 21-30 Prompt

Aaaand now for something completely different. I agonized long and hard over this prompt and finally I’ve decided to take the plunge.

Your final prompt in the 2015 edition of Just Jot It January is, sex.

Want some suggestions on how to use this prompt? Do you really need them? Okay, here we go:

1. The obvious.

2. The not-so-obvious. Try really really hard NOT to write something overt while sticking to the subject. In other words, keep it subtle.

3. Sex – everyone’s got one. Write something educational!

4. Don’t use the prompt at all! It’s not mandatory – it’s only if you get stuck. Alternatively, use the prompt every day for 10 days. It’s up to you!

5. I’m adding a fifth suggestion this time around. I strongly suggest that if you write something explicit, you write “Explicit” in the first sentence, so as not to surprise anyone at work. ALSO, if you write something non-explicit but you have a suggestive title to your post, write “Non-Explicit” in the first sentence so that your readers will know it’s safe to go ahead.

Please make sure you check back both here and at the pingback page and see who has posted – it’s a great way to build your blogging community and reciprocate. And don’t forget the most important part – have fun!! Let’s finish the month off with a bang, shall we? 😀

This post is part of JusJoJan: Anyone can join in!


Thirteen Idolized Man

The lights, the lights, like mother’s love burn through retina and numb the brain. Drink them in, precious boy. Screams of adoration oppress and uplift, confusing like family’s comforting reassurance. Float, young man.

Man drops his key card on the table inside the door of his hotel suite, his music echoes in his ears. He turns to his chosen one and bends to press his mouth against hers. His desire radiates heat through his body. His chosen leaps up, legs around his waist, her sweet scent reaches his taste buds. Man carries her to the bed. She knows what he wants. She has been his before.

“The sword is beside the bed,” man says.

Man lays back and his chosen slides from his lap to retrieve the katana he occasionally uses, like a benediction, to shave his face. She hands it to him and with a smile and a shink! he unsheathes the weapon.  He drops the scabbard to the floor and rests the sword on the bed above his head while she undresses him.

“Do you love me as I love you?” man asks.

“More,” his chosen whispers.

She crawls up his body to take the weapon.

Man closes his eyes. The lights and the roar of the crowd pierce his memory as he hungrily anticipates the inspiration of a fresh scar.

To go to the beginning of this series click here

To Fourteen click here

Disclaimer: This story (and series) is semi-fictional, and is in no way connected to persons alive nor dead. Apart from certain facts, it is a product of the author’s imagination.

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My mind is a landscape


I see a vast plain lying prostrate at the feet of mountains, bowing to their majesty. Mountains which look up, extending their noses, straining to reach the praise of heaven. And a sky so blue, yet feathered with winglike clouds.

I have so many stories inside me, just begging to escape, from fingertips to keyboard. Tales of wanting and of contentment. Of bad behaviour and of good. Of kink and of chastity. And of faraway lands that are waiting to be discovered. Just like my landscape.

Now that I’ve got that out of my system…

I’m thinking about starting up another blog to go alongside this one but for more of the naughty type stories, so I can keep this one more family-friendly. And by family I mean MY family in particular. I think my biggest problem is not knowing how to properly separate the categories on this site, so that I could perhaps keep the nice away from the nasty and vise versa, and just keep one single blog.

Anyone have any suggestions? Advice? Sugar? Coz I’m also out of sugar.


Ten Grown Boy

Screaming neon bathes the room in hues of blue, but red abducts the breath. Lay down, young man. Torturous pleasure soothes Ego where she hides. Take it, tempered boy.

Man stands at the end of the bed, contemplating the sensuous mound beneath the white cotton sheet and draws with finality on his cigarette. He watches as she rolls over through the cloud of his exhalation. He readies silken crimson scarves, tying one to each of the four posts.

“What do you do for a living?” man asks unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

She laughs a dark, wicked divulgence and rises to her knees, facing him.

“I’m a nurse,” she says. “I help people to heal.”

Man grunts, deep in his throat. He inhales her naked refinement with his eyes.

“What happened here?” she asks, placing her fingertips delicately upon the hollow where his collarbone should be.

“It doesn’t matter,” man says.

He strips his shirt from each of his wrists and goes next for the buttons of his fly. He watches her watch him, her gaze steady, unfaltering, settled solely on his flesh.

When he reclines, bereft of his clothing, he surrenders his limbs.

“Do you trust me?” she asks as she ties him, wrists and ankles, like a martyr, to the bed.

“No,” man shivers.

She smiles as she slips one last scarf around his neck, tugging gently.

An exalted master in his own right, man succumbs.

To go to the beginning of this series click here

To Eleven click here

Disclaimer: This story (and series) is semi-fictional, and is in no way connected to persons alive nor dead. Apart from certain facts, it is a product of the author’s imagination.