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Movie preview: ‘One Small Step,’ Alis Locanta’s debut feature for Viv Thomas

Here’s the first glimpse of celebrated director Alis Locanta’s inaugural movie for Viv Thomas. Alis is one of the talented team of artists on our sister site SexArt, and you may already have heard the exciting news that he’s taking the helm at Viv Thomas from December 1st.

Titled ‘One Small Step,’ the movie features a dream cast that will blow your mind: Mango A (making her VT debut), Talia Mint, Patritcy, Lola (aka Dido), Taylor Sands, Lorena B, Alexa Tomas and Henessy – pretty amazing, right? And if that cast list alone doesn’t get you in the mood, then I think this trailer for episode one, starring Mango and Talia, should do the trick…

The first thing you’re likely to notice is the kissing. Lots and lots of passionate, raw, intense kissing. What else can you expect? Well, scorching sexual chemistry, dialogue, romance, tenderness and red-hot sex. If you’re not a member of Viv Thomas yet, you might want to consider giving yourself an early Xmas present… 

 

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Why strong women like bondage

Here at the Life Erotic we’ve been taking a walk on the wild side lately, with more emphasis on the kinkier side of female sexuality. One feature of this has been some beautiful and daring bondage photosets and movies, featuring gorgeous girls in various types of restraint – chains, handcuffs, Shibari (Japanese rope bondage) and the like. And while it’s undeniably exciting – and it’s always made very clear here that the girls are in charge – it may have you asking the uneasy question: Is bondage anti-feminist?

Well, it depends who you believe.

If you study the feminist literature, you’ll find a wide range of opinions. In the seventies, the prevailing view was that BDSM was a form of women-hating violence; proponents of this viewpoint suggest that women who enjoy being submissive only like it because they have been led to believe it is expected of them by sexist power structures. However, since then other theories have emerged. Some feminist writers believe that BDSM is an expression of sexual freedom, and therefore is actually an empowering act.

So here’s the thing: I consider myself a free, confident, liberated bisexual woman; and yet I do enjoy a little domination and rough play – spanking, being held down, disciplined… you know the kind of thing. It makes me feel naughty, dirty and desired. Does that make me a hypocrite, a bad feminist?

I’m no psychologist, but I suspect that because I spend all day being strong, efficient and capable, making decisions, getting things done, it’s a major aphrodisiac to surrender control to someone else. It’s a pure jolt of sexual adrenaline that doesn’t translate to any other area of my life. In other words, I find it thrilling to be told what to do in the bedroom, but you’d better not try it in the boardroom (unless you're fucking me on the desk… that would be hot!).

BDSM, to me, is about desire. It’s about somebody knowing, very clearly, exactly what he or she wants from me. It’s about the fierce pleasure that lies in giving pleasure. It’s about trust, risk and being brave enough to relinquish control, to open oneself up to whatever comes next.

In fact, it has been argued that in BDSM play, the submissive person is the one with the power, as they actually control what happens – for example, by using a ‘safe’ word. Power games take place in a safe psychological space, where authentic desires are acknowledged, rules are observed and external pressures to behave in a certain way can be escaped.

Do we really have to reconcile our sexual self to the self we present in other areas of our life – or can we allow ourselves the freedom to experiment, to experience pleasure without limits, and without shame? Ultimately, I think defining female sexuality in terms of dominant/submissive is as limiting and stereotypical as lesbian/straight or butch/femme.

I’ll just do what turns me on. 

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Muse

Erotic fiction inspired by Mina K

I’m an art student and I like to experiment with different media and techniques, but until recently I had never really been attracted to life drawing. Then a girl called Mina transferred to my class from another college and I just couldn’t stop looking at her. I felt like I’d found my muse; I was so fascinated by her and I would often secretly draw portraits of her while I was supposed to be getting on with something else.

To be honest I had never felt this kind of interest in another girl before, and it confused me; I’d always thought I was strictly hetero (although I didn’t have a great deal of experience in that department either!) and the way I felt whenever Mina smiled at me made me blush.

One day we were set an interesting brief: ‘Do something that takes you out of your comfort zone.’ I took it as a personal challenge; the most exciting, daring, exhilarating thing I could think of was to put my desire for Mina into my artwork. Shyly, I asked her if she would be my life model for the project, and to my delight she agreed.

“I’m busy all day, but meet me in the studio after hours and let’s see what happens,” she said with a smile. Of course I felt nervous and jittery for the rest of the day, but after class I went to the studio and got my sketching paper and paints ready, glowing at the idea that I would get to gaze at her for as long as I wanted.

When Mina arrived, I noticed at once that she had changed out of her usual paint-splattered overalls and was wearing a sheer black top, short skirt and stockings. She looked so sexy! The idea that she had dressed up to look her best for me was a real turn on, and I felt my pulse start to race even faster.

Without saying much, Mina put some music on, and then perched up on the table as I started to draw. My hands were shaking so much I could hardly hold the pencil! After a little while, she said, “How’s it going? Let me look.” She leaned over me to look at my work, so close I could smell her perfume. “Not, bad, but I think you could do a better job of my legs. Look, let me show you…”

To my amazement, she wriggled out of her tight skirt. Her sheer top barely skimmed her thighs, and the sight of her skimpy panties and stocking tops was enough to give me palpitations. She sat on the desk again, parting her legs a little bit so I could see the way her panties stretched tight, just hinting at the contours of her pussy. With a smile, she unbuttoned her top. Her breasts were perfect, and my mouth watered at the thought of sucking her hard nipples. “Well, do you feel inspired?” she murmured, her eyes meeting mine.

It finally dawned on me that she was well aware my interest in her was more than just artistic. My heart pounding, I replied, “Yes… I feel inspired to kiss you.” She smiled again, nodding slightly, and with a sudden surge of courage I moved towards her and pressed my lips against hers.

It was like a trigger; all my nervousness just melted away as she kissed me back, matching my passion. She wrapped her stockinged legs around me, and I slid my hand down between our bodies to rub her pussy through her panties, the dampness of the fabric letting me know that she was just as excited as me.

Now the attraction between us was out in the open, I suddenly felt so confident, so daring; it seemed that Mina was really my sexual muse, allowing me to explore my desires without inhibition. I peeled down her sticky panties, spreading her thighs wide and breathing in the scent of her sex, looking closely at the shiny pink folds, wanting to commit everything to memory.

Grabbing one of my paintbrushes, I licked the handle and then positioned it at the entrance to her wet pussy, pushing gently until it slid all the way inside. Her eyes widened as the girth of the handle stretched her open, and she moaned as I stirred it around and moved it out a little way, then thrust it back in harder. She rocked her hips and I moved it in and out again, finding my rhythm and starting to fuck her the way I liked to do it to myself with my hairbrush. My other hand was stroking and rubbing, squeezing her nipples and strumming her clit. Her cries grew louder and more urgent until suddenly she was cumming, shaking and bucking in my arms.

I think we came to our senses after that and realized we were in a public place where anyone could catch us. Mina got dressed and we went to her house; her parents were out so we could make as much noise as we liked. Over the course of the next few weeks I did everything I had imagined doing with Mina, and plenty of other things she suggested! The portrait of her never did get finished, but I’m sure you can understand why I still consider her to be my muse.

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to me at fanfiction@metart.com. I don't promise to post it in full, but I will pick out the juiciest bits to share!

 

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Dare

Erotic fiction inspired by Elsa

My girlfriend Jane is such a kinky bitch. I’m naturally quiet and shy, but she is always persuading me to do things I wouldn’t dream of doing if she didn’t suggest them. Maybe that’s why I like her so much!

One Sunday morning she looked over at me as I was lying in bed beside her, and said we were going to play a game. Cautiously, I nodded, wondering what she had in store for me. She picked out an outfit for me to wear – black lace panties and a matching babydoll nightie – and then told me to put on a long coat and sneakers. I was trembling with trepidation, anticipation and arousal as she drove me out of town, to a quiet wooded area with some derelict buildings. Nobody else was around as she parked and led me straight to a secluded spot. I realized she must have planned this quite carefully, as I saw a chair that has been placed so it was hidden by a graffiti-covered wall.

I started trembling harder as she told me to remove my coat and sneakers, and then produced a length of cord from her bag. I was starting to guess what she had in mind… and although apprehensive, I could also feel my excitement rising.

“Are you ready?” she asked, looking into my eyes with a serious expression. I knew she was giving me the opportunity to call a halt to this; and suddenly, I didn’t want it to stop. I nodded, and sat down on the chair. I could see her hands shaking as she started to bind my ankles, and I realized she was as turned on as I was. I could feel myself starting to get really wet as she tied my wrists together.

“Now I’m going to leave you here for any passing stranger to find and fuck,” she said. I knew this was a lie. She wouldn’t really leave me here like this… would she? That moment of doubt sent a surge of excitement through me, and I felt the crotch of my panties getting soaked through with my juice. She gave me a lingering look of satisfaction, kissed my lips, and walked away.

It took me a few minutes to register that I really was alone in this secluded spot, bound to a chair in just my lingerie. It was so quiet I could hear the thudding of my heart. I wriggled, trying to get more comfortable, and the cord that ran from my wrists to my ankles was pulled tight against my pussy. That felt good! Sliding forward on the seat, I found I was able to move my hands up and down in a sawing motion, making the rope rub harder between my legs. I opened my thighs until my pussy lips spread stickily apart, angling the rope so it ground right on my clit as I slid it back and forth.

With a flash of inspiration I tugged my panties aside, letting the cord touch my bare, wet flesh. Now I couldn’t hold back, lifting my feet up onto the seat of the chair so my legs were splayed wide, sliding the rope faster and harder until it was smeared with my cream and I could hear the wet sounds of my arousal over the birdsong that seemed to swell up all around me.

Gasping as each new wave of sensation hit me, I bunched up three fingers and thrust them into my slick pussy, riding them urgently, my bound wrists soaked with the juice trickling out of me. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, more wetness spurting out to drench my thighs. I sat there shaking, dizzy, mindless, my eyes closed as the aftershocks buzzed through me for what seemed like hours.

My eyes flew open as a sound brought me back to my senses. It was Jane, standing quite close, watching me.

“I knew you just wouldn’t be able to resist touching yourself, you little slut,” she murmured. “Now it’s my turn to touch you.”

Taking my bound hands, she sucked my fingers clean, slowly and deliberately. Then she knelt between my legs, holding my ankles tight so my thighs splayed wide again as she started to lick…

If you enjoy erotic fiction and would like to contribute some of your own, you can email it to me at fanfiction@metart.com. I don't promise to post it in full, but I will pick out the juiciest bits to share!

 

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