Nature-Inspired Sexy

Autumnal Sexy

Posted by on Oct 11, 2018

It’s been a sexy autumn here in the high country of Colorado. Not quite as captivating as 2003 when every aspen tree in our corner of the state climaxed simultaneously, creating a display of golden leaves so magnificent that we marked the correlating weekend of the following year for our wedding. This year was sexy in another way altogether. The leaves started showing their true colors, which included a lot of tequila sunrise orange, on Labor Day and the show stretched all the way into the first week of October. It was a slow, sultry seduction, like one of those perfect Sunday mornings when...

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My Second Shame

Posted by on Jul 18, 2018

What I’ve figured out so far is this: that aspen bark leaves a white powdery dust on my lips when I kiss it; that wildflowers drenched in morning dew are as potent and fragrant as a woman aroused…

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Sexy Excerpt: Seduced By A River

Posted by on Jun 2, 2018

The leaves are just starting to unfurl here in Colorado at 9,000 feet. In this sexy excerpt from my soon-to-be-republished erotic memoir, Seduced By A River, my man wasn’t here to share them with me. Longing, my muse, loves to have her way with me…

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Wild Irish Rose

Posted by on Jul 26, 2015

I had a lover in college who called me his Wild Irish Rose. He was even wilder and more Irish than me, so we never progressed beyond the fun sex and friendship. The woods around my cabin are laced with the pink blossoms of wild roses right now. As I hike among them, my thoughts keep drifting to that time of my budding sexuality. I was nineteen and hungry to explore my sexuality.  He was twenty-three, my Trustafarian roommate’s best friend, and happy to oblige. I remember how my body craved sex , like chocolate but 100 times stronger.  I remember calling him him at 10:00 on a Friday night and...

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Farewell Kiss

Posted by on May 19, 2015

I get off on winter. So last Sunday when I woke up at my cabin to four inches of fresh snow, I was outside in the gray dawn, arms flung open, spinning around like it was confetti.   Because metaphorically it is. Despite what my gardening friends would say, May snowstorms in Colorado are reason to celebrate. They translate to wildflowers in June; whitewater in July; and creeks that still dance in August.  They keep the aspens’ bark silver and their leaves shimmering gold in September. Snow in May means that the words drought and fire, words that are burning on the parched lips of...

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