Tag Archives: coffee

Very Short Stories

♦ I popped into WH Smith’s recently to pick up a much needed new pencil case (my old one smells awfully of old curry, don’t ask) and some other stationery things. After all, with Eroticon 2014 coming up, I need to be kitted out to write, write, write (and not smell like old curry).

While there, I found a notebook that’s perfect for taking with me, as well as this interesting little thing…

Very Short Stories - Cover

It’s not, as it first appears, a notebook. It’s a tiny, adorable little pad of post-it notes. I just don’t need post-it notes in any way, but the cover of the pad caught my attention. “Very short stories,” it says. Sure, it goes on to say “about milk, cheese and bread”, but the idea of very short stories wouldn’t let go.

I didn’t need to actually write my shopping list, after all. And the pad was small enough to keep inside my new pencil case, meaning I could write any time. And the longer I stood there, the more I saw the little pad of “very short stories” as a challenge.

Dammit, I could write very short stories in it! I could! And they’d be sexy and tiny and I could make it work. And even if I couldn’t, the exercise was bound to be interesting, worth blogging and undoubtedly very useful for honing my skills at writing bigger, longer stories.

So I bought it. Today, a few days later, I decided to give it a go. I logged on to Twitter, determined to take the first word of inspiration that hit me. What follows is the result (in picture form for authenticity, then transcribed for accessibility). It took me about three minutes, from that first word I used as my muse to drawing the little diamond signature in the bottom.

Very Short Stories - The Coffee Story

“Alone together at last. The long day had led to aching anticipation for this moment. I licked my lips, savouring the view. Strong, dark, patiently waiting for me and covered in cream… I had fantasised about you, but now I worried you were too hot to handle. Taking the plunge, I took you in my hand… And drank you. Thank Christ for coffee.”

And there you have it. Perfect? No. Fantastic? No. But at a mere 62 words and in a mere 3 minutes or less on a theme chosen at random from a word found on Twitter and essentially unedited, I’m quite pleased with it. I’m certainly going to write more of these. It was a nice challenge to keep it ambiguous until the last (calling coffee “he” or “she” seemed disingenuous) and I like the playful idea.

Maybe the Very Short Story (flash fiction on teeny-tiny post-its) will catch on and bloggers and writers everywhere will join in! What do you think, could you write a story on a post-it note? And what are your thoughts on mine? ♦

Want to see the next Very Short Story of mine? It’s called Prometheus.

Jitterbug

♦ Jitterbug is a manic, tumbling, ragtag little poem I wrote in about four minutes while hyped up on coffee. I hope you like it and its weird little structure. I do. Apparently, it doesn’t take much to get me playing with frantic and oddly placed rhymes. I’d only had two cups. It’s inspired by a quote from Gore Vidal. ♦

Sex is a continuum, a spectrum
A plectrum
That plucks my strings
As I fuck with things and girls and boys and toys
While I scream and shout
Call their names out
Out of my head on love and other drugs
And coming alive as I rise through the fug
Of everyday thoughts and everyday bull
Greyness
Explodes into sparks colourful
Full of his cock, her fingers, hir words in my head
A dildo retracting, spilling cum on my bed
The dread of returning to the mundane
My brain filling
With vapour and bliss
How could there be something greater than this?

Wicked Wednesday

Got a little Crush…

♦ I was planning to do a calendar image for this. But, well, I’ve just realised that I don’t actually have a calendar image for March in my collection, so that’s that out the window. Not that it matters, I don’t think any of you are here to find out what month it is and if you are it’s a tad late.

No, in fact I think that there are a good number of you who may have been following me on Twitter, particularly two lovely young ladies, who are rather keen to hear about a certain little transgression of mine…

Remember Crush? In January we had a tipsy New Year’s kiss. In February the sexual tension was at ridiculous levels and he seemed to be rather enjoying stringing me along.

March, though. March was very interesting…

It started well when a bit of friendly flirty banter in the usual mould led to him joking that he didn’t need to make an effort to charm me as I was a ‘mere object of his sexual desire’ and that ‘the very fact I deign to speak to one beneath me such as you should have you stripping off and jumping on me…… No, seriously.’

Of course, dommy language like that sent a nice jolt through my sex and I figured it was just a matter of time before I finally got my claws into him.

Just five days later a friend suggested some of us go out after the pub. Crush was keen to go along and I knew I had to use it as an opportunity to get somewhere. It’s not really Fractal’s thing so he sent me off with his blessing to fuck Crush if I wanted to and got the chance. I love my man :)

The club was fine, but I was still a bit shy to look him in the eye whilst dancing for too long and I wasn’t drunk/confident enough to slutdance at him. Though I did end up sat on his lap with his arm around my waist. The club turfed us all out at 2am. On the way back from the town centre I realised I’d be stupid not to try something.

“So, do you have any coffee at your house that you could theoretically invite me back for and then both of us can end up not ever drinking any?” I asked, smiling.

He grinned and asked if I wanted to come back to his. I said I did.

I’d seen his room before. It was about 3am or so by this point so the house was silent. We sat down on the bed. There was a little idle chit-chat before he lay back and looked at me.

Months ago I wouldn’t have been able to make a move even though the situation was far past the point where I had to fear rejection. Luckily I have some modicum of confidence these days.

I leant over and started to kiss him…

To be continued… ;) ♦

P.S. You can all feck off right now if you’re going to mock me for referencing a Darren Hayes song. Shut up, shut up. I don’t own any! :P

CCK News

♦ Oh for fuck’s sakes. Seriously. I think I must have the Kiss of Death or something.

Less than two hours after I write my post waxing lyrical on the pleasures of my newly beloved Coffee, Cake and Kink and I hear this news from their website.

“…We have therefore decided that, heartbreaking as it is, Coffee, Cake & Kink will close its doors at 61 Endell Street, Covent Garden, London. We do not as yet have the exact closing date, and will continue to trade as long as circumstances allow.

….At this tough time, it is important to remember that Coffee, Cake & Kink is not Endell Street. It is the community of people, the friendships made, the relationships that blossomed, and it will live on in the hearts of the countless people who have found their place in the world. Nothing at all can diminish this, and Coffee, Cake & Kink will continue, with or without Endell Street.”

I’m gutted. It sounds selfish but, given I’ll be in London for a whole month, I really hope they have somewhere for August. Still, it sounds like they’re continuing as a business, they aren’t closing down. And that’s the main thing.

I know I only went the once but I really did love that place. I wish them all the best of luck and I hope to support them online until they find new premises.

And I still can’t believe my timing.  ♦

CCK

♦ Absolutely wonderful.

Seriously. We had a great time.

For those of you less in the know than the lovely ILB (who I must thank the muchly for his CCK plugging, which made me want to visit it so much), I’m talking about London’s delightful Coffee, Cake and Kink, a café that really lives up to its name.

I’ve wanted to go for a while, but not being a native Laaahndahner (technical term) I don’t get to spend a great deal of time up there, and when I do it tends to largely revolve around being fucked six ways ’til Sunday (I love that phrase) by Fractal. But this time we had my graduation to celebrate and since the plan was Covent Garden I demanded that we visit CCK.

I think Fractal was a little nervous after some of the more rubberised pictures on the website, but we found it easily and it turned out to be smaller than I’d expected but very nice looking and certainly not intimidating.

They were short-staffed when we first arrived so it was upstairs seating only, but we browsed some of the hugely wide selection of kinky art, books and toys on the walls before going downstairs to take a look at the sale, which supplied me with some wonderfully odd fetish postcards.

Those stairs though! Jesus Christ! I thought I was going to die!

The downstairs looks very boudoir-esque and I knew I’d fallen in love with the place when, as we browsed the sale items, the two men sat on the sofa (who it later turned out were staff) continued to chat away openly about the one guy’s night out that ended with him in bed with his female friend and her boyfriend. It was wonderful to hear people talking so openly about sex, and adventurous sex too, without a care in the world as to who heard.

*That* is my idea of how life should be. It’s one of the reasons for my blog, it’s what I’d to accomplish really, being open to discuss and experiment and enjoy. And I’d found some sort of promised land where people actually did that!

As we browsed another staff member chatted to us now and then about the sale and the café, making a joke about me being on my knees to peruse the sale. He was such a friendly guy, and when we went back upstairs to grab seats and eats we found the other staff to be just as fun and welcoming (and I had the notion that one of the men may possibly have fancied Fractal ;) ).

We had push-it-yourself Guatemalan coffee and banana and walnut cake, which was mouthwateringly, indecently delicious.

I’m not sure how long we were there for, over an hour, certainly. But by the time we grudgingly left Fractal and I were raving about it. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so enthusiastic about something like that, and it made me feel even happier.

I love the place, and when I go up to London for the month next month rest assured we shall be visiting often.

As a sort of postscript to this I should point out that CCK are still having trouble over the dispute with their landlord, which makes supporting them all the more important. Visit the place, try the online shop and if you love either of them then tell your friends. This place is a marvel, unique, and I for one would be very saddened to see it die. ♦