This is my first piece for Smutathon 2020. As usual, it’s a snapshot of much bigger, more complicated story, but hot damn at least I wrote something and there’s definitely something to say for that! I don’t remember when I decided to do it. Looking back, it had been a long time coming. It just…Continue Reading “Meeting Amélie”
Endometriosis is a condition that affects 1 in 10 people who are assigned female at birth. Despite that, 54% of people don’t know what it is – rising to 74% of men. We want to help change that.
In the run up to Smutathon 2020 on September 26th, we’ll be sharing weekly ‘Endo Stories’, written by other bloggers, authors, and awesome people we found on Twitter. They’ll tell you about their experiences with endometriosis, and about some of the challenges they’ve faced, from diagnosis to treatment, from sexual pleasure (and pain) to fertility and menstruation.
Today’s story comes from Smutathon committee member Jayne Renault, though it actually belongs to her mother. As well as sharing her words with you all today, Jayne will be joining the rest of our team in September as a featured author for our Smutathon 2020 event – she also writes at jaynerenault.co, and is the Erotica editor for Bellesa Reads. Find her on Twitter at @jayne_renault and please consider donating to Endometriosis UK to help them help people all over the UK who are struggling with endometriosis.
I don’t know when I first learned about endometriosis, but I know it was my mom who educated me on it.
I probably have endo myself, but I’ve not yet been diagnosed. I’ve honestly not put enough effort into getting a diagnosis because my faith in the Western medical system’s approach to reproductive health care is all but dead. I’m tired of not being trusted to know my body better than someone who just met me and doesn’t care about my wellbeing.
But my mom has always been convinced that I suffer from it. I feel her judgment is sound; she is a reluctant expert on the matter.
Since there’s no chance I’ll see my mom again for at least another year between significant geographical distance and pandemic, I took this opportunity to chat with her.
This is her endo story.Continue Reading "Endo Stories: Sharing the Pain"
In this final push of Smutathon 2019, I’m admittedly very exhausted. I’ve only slept 4-5 hours on most nights for the past couple of weeks because I’ve been so excited and anxious for everyone to arrive and pull this whole thing off. This morning was not without its hiccups — coffee emergency, being locked out,…Continue Reading “A Long Time for Growth”
I wake up to the sound of a motorcycle revving in the alley behind my house. I check the time — 5:57 am.
I groan and roll to my other side.
Meanwhile, Alex doesn’t even flinch; one of his superpowers is that he sleeps like an actual corpse. It’s not until I elongate myself into a full-body stretch and press into his side that he stirs. While my arms are still overhead, he gives one breast a gentle squeeze and then the other, as if assessing them.
“Everything still where it belongs?” I ask.
“Seems so,” he says through his first yawn of the morning. “Though it may warrant a more thorough inspection.”
“Well, don’t let me stand in the way of procedure.”
“Come here,” he says, pulling me into him. I flip around, pressing my back to his chest and we breathe together as his hands begin to roam.
“Today’s the day,” I say.
“Today is the day,” Alex echoes. “Do you think Jack will follow through?”
“He’s very dependable,” I assure him. “If he says he’ll be here, he will be. He might be 15-20 minutes late, but he’ll show.”
“Have you talked to him since our virtual introduction on Wednesday?”
“Sparsely. He’s a very busy boy but he made a point of confirming yesterday. I reminded him then that we’re all in this together; we all need to be on board to move forward. He’s a man of few words via text, but I think he appreciated that reaffirmation.”
“Good,” Alex says, somewhat distractedly as he pushes his burgeoning erection between my ass cheeks. “And to think… you almost let this chance to have our mutually ideal threesome pass us by because you were worried he’d say no.”
“Oh, stop it already…” I say.
“See what happens when you take a chance on something good?” He kisses that spot at the back of my neck and a thrill rushes down the length of my spine, all the way down until it thumps between my legs.
“Okay, okay, I get it, you were right! Now, will you please fuck me lazily from behind already? I’m so turned on right now it’s starting to hurt.”
“Oh my… Well, we don’t want that now, do we? But are you sure you don’t…” He pauses to tease my labia with the head of his cock, slow strokes up and down. “…want to save it for later?”
“No, fuck, Alex, come onnnnn,” I whine playfully, rolling my hips and pressing my ass into him. “Right now. Please?”
I gasp, my back arching, as he slides in home.
The past couple of days with Alex have, as always, been too lovely. By now, we haven’t left too many surfaces in my apartment go unchristened. But it has no bearing on how much I need him to the pain of discomfort when I wake up next to him.
“Just imagine,” he whispers as he pulls back and pumps in a little deeper. “What it’s going to be like when I can do this while he’s other there, in front of you in this very room.”
I swoon into his frame enveloping mine, fulfilling me inside and out as he fills my imagination with even more.
“Tell me what you’re going to ask of him.”
“I want… his cock in my mouth while you take me like this from behind.”
“You can do better than that. Tell me how you want his cock in your mouth.”
“I want… to take him gently at first. So I can look at him while I do it. Gauge him.” I suck air in through my teeth as Alex’s hand snakes around and presses to my belly. “You know, to make sure he’s all good as he watches us being this intimate.”
“Better. What else?”
“I want you to talk to him, to us,” I’m struggling to find words; I’m trying my best because I know how much Alex likes when I use them. “Describe how I feel, how it feels to be inside me.”
“Mmm, I can already feel the way you’re going to clamp down around me in tandem with the strokes of your mouth over the length of his cock. How that will change as your pace and intensity changes, as you take him deeper.”
“Yes, his cock is exceptionally suckable.”
“I expect you’ll show me how he likes it.”
The combination of languid, deep thrusts, the compression of his front to my entire back, and test exceedingly filthy images of two of my favourite men filing me from all sides is on top of my morning need is too much. I shove my hand between my legs and roll my fingers around my clit.
“Harder,” I demand, almost inaudibly through the swell of tension blocking my throat.
Alex doesn’t tease me this time. Obliging me, he pumps deeper and holds longer and the end of each stroke as my hand blurs over my clit and I topple over the edge. He holds me close as sparks dance behind my eyelids and I wail like my window isn’t open.Continue Reading "Morning Stretch"
Smut Queen’s Log — Bellesa HQ — 28 Smuttember, 2019
It’s been 6 months since I was sat—
[Oh dear lord, the Britishness is already rubbing off on me. Ahem. Let’s try that again.]
I was sitting at a table with many of my favourite sex blogger faces. We were definitely riding high on the post-Eroticon buzz, and we might have been a drink or so deep when the conversation moved on to, “Well, do you reckon we should talk about this year’s Smutathon?”
It didn’t take long for the many branches of the night’s chats to join together in that moment to result in a lofty idea: why don’t we take Smutathon overseas.
Upon returning to Canada, I presented the idea of bringing Smutathon 2019 to my Bellesa family. I was met with great enthusiasm and the promise of giving me whatever tools and support I needed to make it a great success.Continue Reading "Confessions of a Smutathoner"
I slump into the barstool, sweaty and annoyed. I’d rushed from the check-in desk to security, then stoked the anxiety burning in my gut as I trudged painfully slowly through the snaking line that led to those snarky trolls who guard the gate to the secure area, then sprinted down the hall, the flat of…Continue Reading “Flight Delayed Gratification”