Sideboob to end all sideboob

Nominated for Emmeline’s posse! A short scene from who-knows-where: A sexy, showy sylph strides through a shopping mall wearing a crazy tank-top. This may have started as a creeper video, but by the end she’s twirling for the camera.

It is sideboob to end all sideboob (no naughty bits are shown).

She’s on her way to some kind of madcap adventure with a slightly loopy smile on her face. She’s already collecting attention, and the adrenaline rush puts a loose sway in her walk. Before the end of the night, she will have inspired a hundred men to wish they were stronger-smarter-richer-better-braver. Before the end of the night, a rock band will write a song about her. She’s the muse in the mall.

Women like Emmeline are out there in the world, stalking your libido in short-shorts.



Jenny Scordamaglia: More than the Queen of TV Nipslips

When I originally posted about Jenny Scordamaglia for the Emmeline’s Possé I thought she was a goofy, funny, sexy oddity. I was proud to have ‘discovered’ her in an internet full of hotties jockeying for attention.

Believe it or not, it’s hard to find new members for the possé — they can’t merely be attractive and prone to nipslips. They have to have something more going on. Jenny Scordamaglia is a good example: She’s sweet, charismatic, committed to her beliefs, and a fabulous interviewer. Obvious possé material.

It turns out I completely underestimated the scale of her… extroversion. She’s a phenomenon!

If you can resist a nipslip, it's a "nopeslip."

If you can resist a nipslip, it’s a “nopeslip.”

Here’s the angle: Jenny Scordamaglia dresses like a phone sex advertisement, but she chats you up like Ellen Degeneris. Whether you’re at the Cool Car Expo or Art Basel Miami, when she zooms through your eye-line with her microphone and a thousand-watt smile, you drop your jaw. When she puts you in front of the camera, you’re charmed and bedazzled.

In her videos, her subjects forget everything going on below her chin. Once, one of her interview subjects posted a video link on his Facebook page. His friend commented: “Good job keeping your eyes up!” and “Maintaining eye contact like a boss.”

Watch a few more videos: You might just begin to admire American manhood. She’s a walking neural-elasticity test. She’s what happens when your wet dream suddenly slaps you in the face and asks, “What motivates your creative process?” All that American manhood can do in this situation is disengage the babymaker circuit, and answer.

Is Jenny Scordamaglia the Queen of Nipslips?

Recently a Miami blog found the courage to ask Jenny Scordamaglia the hard questions nobody really wondered about:

Girl, do you know what’s going on?

Answer: She does.

So where’s the healthy dose of body shame?

Answer: It’s just my body. It’s just anatomy. These are just nipples.

Why don’t you use double-backed tape?

Answer: It gets messy and doesn’t work. (I bet more men wished more women agreed!)

The blog post doesn’t ask the crucial question: Does Jenny Scordamaglia go commando in those tiny skirts? Lucky for you, there is a broad scholarship on this subject. The unauthorized “highlight reels” come and go, but they’re not hard to find! Here are two links that will probably break soon:

You might as well go ahead and subscribe to her youtube channel or follow her on Twitter. You might click for the nipslips and the short skirts, but you stay because she’s simply awesome. (Via MiamiNewTimes Blog.)

Need inspiration?

Here are my erotic stories about sexy, public women.

See all my books.


Life in a flickr photo stream

blonde mom1 from flickrNew possé member! blonde mom1 is a lovely woman who has shared the spectrum of her life in 300 pictures. For what it’s worth, men respond verry well to her.

Personally, I marvel at her poise. She has that social-media skill of being able to control her message… she patiently slaps down pictures of her life like they’re Tarot Cards. Her impeccable flickr feed presents a dreamworld where people can do mundane, lifey things but their hair is never bad.

This is why the voices in my head voted her into Emmeline’s Posse: The part of her life that she shares on flickr is a work of art.

More art after the jump…

Continue reading

Trapper: Catch and Release

Alpha Male Button

Why me in fire? What this thing me holding? Bo… book? Book have food in it? Me need book to sex you? No?
Me hate book!

By this point I’ve read so much about Alpha Males, I’m dying for a nice Beta Male I can boss around. “Honey, I know you’re busy, but can you get me a coffee and paint the house?”

I wouldn’t even have to flirt! “Honey, please buy me some Woody Allen movies so I can study your species.”

Alpha Males are about more than just sex, mystery, protection, relationship insecurity. They are also about THE PRIZES!!

  • 1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet
  • 2nd Grand Prize: A $130 Amazon or B&N Gift Card
  • 3rd Grand Prize: The Swag Pack! (Pictured below.)
Blog Hop Swag

20 lbs of hot, pulsing romance.

Everything but the swag prize is international. To enter the grand prize drawing and my drawing, leave your email in the comments! Enter once on each blog! You can enter 200 times! That’s a lot of Alpha, but you look like you can handle it. Wink.

My prize drawing

I have an odd erotic romance book, Trapper and Emmeline, in which two college students, crazy-deep in lust, invent a new way to be in love. Trapper wants the world to know how amazing Emmeline is, so he shares her! He encourages Emmeline to go on dates with other guys!

Ladies, think how horrible it would be if your husband suggested that kind of date night! The husband stays home and takes care of the kids. You go out to dinner with some alluring, sexy man and hone your skills of attraction and flirtation. Sounds terrible, right? (Of course, in Trapper and Emmeline, Trapper pushes Emmeline too far, and Emmeline surprises herself by going even further… and it throws their sweet-but-sordid romance into jeopardy.)

Comment topic: Do you want your Significant Other to institute a date night? On the last Friday of each month, you have permission to go out on a real live date and work the singles scene again! What if you can’t find a date? He (or she) will set you up with a friend. Would you do this? Could you do this? Hot? Not? Just plain weird?  

One print copy of the book goes to the hottest/funniest comment. Another goes to a randomly selected topic. Remember to leave your email! (If you don’t want a print copy, I can send a PDF or Paypal $7 so you can get a different ebook.)

In this excerpt from Trapper and Emmeline, alpha Trapper personally sees another Alpha make a play on Emmeline. You’d think this would make Trapper and Emmeline uncomfortable, but no, they’re too weird:

He’s a recovering good guy. She’s maxing life on borrowed time.

The next day, we went to the Student Union for cokes. Emmeline was wearing a short, flower-print dress with leather shoes, and looking quite enticing about it. As I studied her shape inside her translucent dress, a hand came sliding around her waist.

The hand, flat-palmed on my girlfriend’s body, went on a journey across her torso, catching a stupefying feel along the way. It came to rest on her stomach, a little below her belly button.

My dick was hard enough hammer out dents in cars.

I tracked the hand back to a young, Jersey-looking guy with an open collar and gold chains around his neck. His face was mere inches away from hers, and his toothsome smile made me think of a man-eating shark.

“Emmeline,” he said, “have you given any thought about tonight? Or tomorrow night? Or the night after? Or ever?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said. “This is Trapper, my boyfriend.”

“Oh, hey,” he said, backing off. He met my eyes with a hard stare, as if I wanted to steal his food.

“Hi!” I held out my hand, and he took it, suspicious.

Emmeline said, “Trapper, this is my friend from class. He wants to take me out to dinner.”

I smiled at him. “Just make sure it’s a nice place. Emmeline deserves the best.”

He nodded uncertainly. He was, obviously and reasonably, confused by Emmeline and me.

“Sure, ‘Trapper.’” 

“See you later, sweetie,” Emmeline said, and kissed him.

As he walked away, she said, “Sorry about that.”

“No big,” I said, wrapping my hands around her shoulders. A pre-Emmeline Trapper would have felt a little hurt at being dismissed; new-Trapper didn’t actually give a shit about testosterone-ridden, socially inept Jersey kids. “Did you notice how he just grabbed your stomach, rather than saying hi?”

“He always does that. I think he has a thing for my tummy.”

“You should wear a crop-top for him, or a half-shirt. So that next time, he will get a hand full of skin.” She looked thoughtful at that, and didn’t answer. I realized why: She liked him! Him! There was no accounting for taste. “Are you planning to go out with him?”

She looked uncomfortable. This boy was the first of her potential dates that I’d actually met.

“It’s still early in the week, Trap. For my first date, I want something… less unambiguous than a dinner date. Like an innocent study session. With him, it would not be innocent at all. He would jump me like a turnstile.” Her eyes fluttered to mine, shy. “Still, I’m curious about him. He wears more jewelry than I do. We would make one blinged-out pair.”

“Keep me informed,” I said. “I like how guys are just grabbing you before they say hello.”

She laughed. “I think they do that if they can’t remember my name in time.”

“We are one weird couple.”

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