Your date is going so well that you agree to go back to his/her place.

What’s one thing he/she could do to completely ruin the mood?

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*You know I love to share my Quora answers!

If I’d agreed to go to your place, you’ve more than likely already done enough right things to get me there. What could you do further that would be stupid? Let me make a list.

  1. you could ramble on endlessly about your ex—I’d be bored
  2. you could ask me too many personal questions about past lovers—that seems to be in annoying abundance lately
  3. you could ask me about STD’s insinuating that I sleep around
  4. you could open up a bottle of wine and insist on drinking the whole thing
  5. you could become a rather sloppy drunk and I would walk out immediately
  6. you could take too long to make a pass at me, and I would be totally bored
  7. you could fall asleep in the middle of a passionate moment and I would leave
  8. you could be a ‘biff-bam-thank-you-mam’ kind of guy in which case I would be a ‘no-second-chance’ kind of girl

I hope you enjoy this  ‘tongue-in-cheek’ silly, yet serious response from me today!

 

more by Lynda Filler

LOVE The Beat Goes On

Love front with quotes

 

12 Books Every Man Should Read

Reblog from CRISTIAN MIHAI

Whether sexual in nature, or books that deal on subjects such as family, history, or the relationship between men and women, these are must-read books for any man, true treasures of information when it comes to a man’s place in today’s society.

Memories of My Melancholy Whores
Gabriel García Márquez

It is almost impossible to read this short novel and not be moved by the life of G.G. Marquez’s main character. An old man wishing to feel alive, wishing to spend his 90th birthday in the company of a virgin woman, so full of life. How many have found love at a young age? How many have located it at 90? How many lived to be 90 years of age?

The day the old man meets his love, that’s when all fear of dying is obliterated. The simple act of contemplating a naked woman, without any sexual desires being involved, that’s what some of us might call love. Real love.

Memories of My Melancholy Whores need to be read at least once. Maybe more than once.

Two of Us
Alberto Moravia

Released in 1971, Alberto Moravia’s novel is all about the cold war between a man and the lack of performance of his organ. So to speak. Yes, this might shock the faint of heart, but this novel deals on subjects that are all too relevant in today’s world. A lack of self-worth, the idea of finding one’s physical appearance disgusting, the obsessive nature of man.

 

The 120 Days of Sodom
Marquis de Sade

 

The 120 Days of Sodom, or the School of Libertinage, was written by the Marquis in 37 days while imprisoned in the Bastille.  Considered the most perverse book ever written, a true encyclopedia of sexual excesses, a long time thought to be lost, it was finally published in 1904.

It is worth reading by those who believe that love-making is repetitive in nature, that one cannot imagine new pleasures (depends on how you defined them) into existence.

 

Emmanuelle
Emanuelle Arsan

 

Eroticism as a concept, as a code, as ceremony, as art, as science.

“No one is born anything. One must learn. Our way of becoming men, of mutating into men, is to reject our ignorance and our myths, like a hermit crab casting off its old shell, and don the truth like a new garment. Thus we can be indefinitely born and reborn. With each ‘abrupt mutation,’ we’ll be more human and we’ll remake our world to suit out pleasure better. ‘Learning’ is learning to enjoy. Ovid already said it, as you’ll recall: ‘Ignoti nulla cupido!’” (you cannot desire what you do not know), Nihil volitum nisi praecognitum (Nothing is wanted that was not previously known.)”

As Oscar Wilde said, everything in life is about sex. Except for sex. Sex is about power.

 

Dangerous Liaisons
Choderlos de Laclos

 

Published just years before the French Revolution, Dangerous Liaisons is a novel of moral and emotional depravity is a disturbing and ultimately damning portrayal of a decadent society. The Marquise de Merteuil and the Vicomte de Valmont, two rivals (and ex-lovers) use seduction as a weapon to socially control and exploit others, all the while enjoying their cruel games and boasting about their manipulative talents. Merteuil challenges Valmont to seduce an innocent convent girl, all the while being occupied with the conquest of a virtuous married woman. Eventually, their human pawns respond, and the consequences prove to be more serious–and deadly–than the players could have ever predicted.

Often compared with Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, Dangerous Liaisons has been adapted a number of times.

Sexus
Henry Miller

 

Or read some other of his novels. Tropic of Cancer or something. But you must read something by Henry Miller, if only to be dumbfounded as to how someone can be so pornographic, have such a disgusting way of describing certain depravities and such pitying views when it comes to certain characters, yet you cannot stop reading.

It is shocking, yet you must read more.

A brilliant writer, one of the most influential writers of the last century, Henry Miller deserves the most to be on this list.

Women
Charles Bukowski

 

“I was sentimental about many things: a woman’s shoes under the bed; one hairpin left behind on the dresser; the way they said, ‘I’m going to pee.’ hair ribbons; walking down the boulevard with them at 1:30 in the afternoon, just two people walking together; the long nights of drinking and smoking; talking; the arguments; thinking of suicide; eating together and feeling good; the jokes; the laughter out of nowhere; feeling miracles in the air; being in a parked car together; comparing past loves at 3am; being told you snore; hearing her snore; mothers, daughters, sons, cats, dogs; sometimes death and sometimes divorce; but always carrying on, always seeing it through; reading a newspaper alone in a sandwich joint and feeling nausea because she’s now married to a dentist with an I.Q. of 95; racetracks, parks, park picnics; even jails; her dull friends; your dull friends; your drinking, her dancing; your flirting, her flirting; her pills, your fucking on the side and her doing the same; sleeping together” 

“I feel we owe Stormy more for her moxie than handfuls of sweaty singles.”

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The Stormy Daniels (And Melania Too) Effect  as published on HuffPost.com 8/26

Sex/human trafficking and the sex trade are themes I deal with in my Code Raven Series and particularly in my recent publication of Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money  I thought you might enjoy this provocative and witty article by Lily Burana, a feminist and fellow author, published in HuffPost today. 

 

Tucker Carlson (he who has crafted a lasting brand from bowtied White Male Grievance) was fuming on air the other night, Now that Stormy Daniels is part of the resistance, porn is noble!

Or something like that. I didn’t hear the exact words because I was too busy cackling smugly.

The statement seems to indicate that Carlson, prima facie Right-Wing Outrage, is heated up about not being able to make a partisan bitch slap out of a woman’s employment in the sex industry because she, apparently, is showing social (and political) capital above and beyond her lowly “ho” status. Baby boy angry cuz baby boy can’t slut-shame right now! You stay mad, Carlson!

Meanwhile, over here in feminist ladyland, I’m thrilled.

When it comes to how we talk (and joke) about women who’ve worked in adult entertainment, times are changing. Even stories in The New York Times are changing. Certainly, the courage that Stormy Daniels has shown in the face of incredible antagonism can be credited for this shift. Think what you will about her line of endeavor, but my God, her chutzpah in taking on Donald Trump is commendable.

But she’s not the only game-changer here. Melania gets a nod for this shift as well. She’s a woman who modeled nude (sometimes with other women in a hotsy-totsy, clearly-for-titillation configuration), and then, boom, there she was, years later, wife of a Republican magnate and devoted mother.

This has created a bracketing effect ― leftie porn star, right-wing former nude model ― that has muted the impulse to couch a political dig in a bimbo-bashing wrapper. Yes, the hypocrisy of Donald Trump being the head of a party that waves the “family values” flag while being such a creep himself has made its way into late-night monologues and political cartoons: I can’t believe Trump has the NERVE to work the CHRISTIAN ANGLE after he had AN AFFAIR with a PORN STAR. (Because it would’ve been a lesser betrayal if he’d bedded the local chapter president of the Junior League? Help me out here.) But it’s not as sticky of a comedic gambit as it would’ve been even 10 years ago.

I feel we owe Stormy more for her moxie than handfuls of sweaty singles.

Stormy and Melania having both created prurient adult material has, oddly, engendered a bipartisan truce around using sex workers as punchlines or moral lancets. Neither the right nor the left can slut-bash the other side, because each side has its own major presence who is, or was, working en dishabille. Thus, we can’t use that to make political hay. Between Melania’s nude girl-girl photo shoots and Stormy’s turn on the strip club stage and porn set, we’ve eased away from political slut-shaming.

Hallelujah, and may it ever be thus.

Melania, fused in marriage and image with all things Trump and silent as a cipher herself, is something of a suspect blank slate. There’s not much for us to attach to her except guilt by association. But the fact that she hasn’t issued some sort of mewling public apology for her nude modeling photos should be taken as a marker that she ― and the country of which she’s first lady ― is not convinced that any renunciation or mea culpa is required.

Then, we have the volubly sassy and articulate Stormy Daniels. She’s curiously sympathetic folk heroine: She seems to have accepted her lot in life with an admirable blend of pragmatism and good humor, and she has been presented in full 360-degree “actual human being” format in mainstream profiles. She’s a working wife and mother, protective of her child, and incensed by the hypocrisy and corruption of this administration. Add to that her appealingly curvy mom-bod and the pleasing softness to her facial features and you’re like, “You know what? I don’t need to be a jerk about her being a porn star. She’s flesh and blood like us, trying to keep it together while the country goes mad along with everyone else out here.”

Think what you will about her line of endeavor, but my God, her chutzpah in taking on Donald Trump is commendable.

The feminist view of how to treat and discuss women primarily known, willingly or not, for their sexual exploits has also shifted in a far more charitable and sympathetic direction. To have a roundtable of prominent feminists assemble to run down and ridicule such a woman in a major publication like they did with Monica Lewinsky in The New York Observer back in 1998, seems unthinkable now. Bimbo-baiting and shaming are entirely passé, as they have been revealed to be part of the patriarchal dictate to police, and even damage, other women’s lives through judgment. This type of censure through mockery is not a good look for women on either side of the so-called madonna/whore divide ― or either side of the political aisle.

Even normally censorious, socially conservative writers are taking heed and resisting the urge to make the character-assassinating, tongue-clucking cheap shot. Case in point: Professional scold Caitlin Flanagan laid off her usual troweling of disapproval in a May article in The Atlantic. The biggest arrow she dared fire was referring to Daniels as “an aging sex worker,” which from our stern, “the best birth control is holding an aspirin between your knees,” Catholic auntie CaitFlan is practically a pat on the head.

Historically, there has been so much unmitigated hostility toward any woman who does any form of sex work, at any level and for any reason, that if it takes a sense of partisan loyalty to stem the tide of vitriol and low blows, I’ll take it.

We seem to be growing up a bit, able to see now that on the grand continuum of moral “crimes,” female sexual adventuring is on the tame end directly opposite from, say, cratering an entire democracy through, you know, actual crime.

As for what the future holds for these two iconic women who’ve had the audacity to be both naked for money and fully human, I hope Melania has her own escape plan in place, to implement if and when the time comes.

For Stormy, it’s hard to say. In days of yore (you know, like in the 1980s and 1990s), a woman caught in the center of a sex scandal would be offered a royal sum to strip off for a major men’s magazine. Amidst the dwindling readership ― and budgets ― of skin mags, I doubt such an economic rocket boost still exists. However, if anyone deserves the million-dollar post-scandal pinup retirement package, it’s Stormy Daniels. In the absence of that opportunity, maybe she’ll get a big publishing contract for a book in which she can thoroughly examine her side of things (mama, if you need a ghostwriter, you call me).

Even normally censorious, socially conservative writers are taking heed and resisting the urge to make the character-assassinating, tongue-clucking cheap shot.

Regardless of the manifestation, I hope there’s a payout and I hope it’s plenty big. She’s out there capitalizing on her notoriety with her “Make America Horny Again” dancing tour at various strip clubs (and getting set up for arrest at one appearance), but I feel we owe Stormy more for her moxie than handfuls of sweaty singles.

This isn’t to suggest that we all now view adult entertainment as a job like any other job (it isn’t) or that speaking of the workers in the business with civility will transform porn into some amazing cool job that teen girls will choose instead of working at, say, Piercing Pagoda (it won’t). All it means is that we’ve been able (in this case, anyway) to realize slut-shaming is a zero-sum activity and that a hearty chuckle at the rich irony of the situation need not escalate into sick burns on the naked ladies involved. It means that where female sexuality is concerned, we’ve decided, collectively, to not be freaking mean for once.

Yes, there are plenty of bawdy laughs to be had in this trash-fire Trump administration, and let us take our delight where we may. Hit “share” on those “Trump’s Pecker Problem” headlines and the meme of Snoopy at his typewriter atop his doghouse, tapping out “And then, America was saved by a Porn Star. THE END.” We’ve been wounded and anguished for months, so we might as well yuk it up while we’re able. So yes, let us continue to find the humor ― just spare the usual (female) suspects the humiliation of being the butt of the joke.

These are strange days indeed, and we are finally seeing some glimmers of hope that our long national political nightmare may soon end. How wonderful it is to think we might just have the last laugh at an administration that’s a total joke. And how novel that an ever-so-slight uplift for so-called fallen women — of any political affiliation — might be the end product of misogynist folly.

 

Lily Burana is the author of four books, most recently Grace for Amateurs: Field Notes on a Journey Back to Faith (W Books/Harper). Follow her on Twitter @lilyburana.

 

You can literally control your mind.

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It’s amazing the conversations and exchange of ideas and philosophies we can have with strangers from around the world if we only open to the connections. I LOVE this video. It’s so simple and explained so beautifully.

Thanks, Rohith, for bringing this video to my attention.

Have a week filled with wonder, joy, and happiness. My gift for you to begin your week.

 

Why do you enjoy writing romance novels?

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I was asked this question on Quora today. It made me think about who I am as an author, and what exactly I write!

I LOVE this question. I never thought of myself as a romance author. But, when I wrote my first published novel, TARGET in the Sun  I received an award for Best in Contemporary Fiction. I had to look up what that meant!

I write from the heart. And there is romance in all things in life. It’s the natural progression of our natures. TARGET was about a relationship between an older woman and a younger man. But it was more about his past, his cartel family, his life growing up on the streets of Mexico, and how he did what he needed to do to survive. I would say that falling in love with an older woman may have been secondary to the story, but that wouldn’t be correct neither. What reviewers say about my work is that I write romance from a different angle.
I’ve since gone on to write Action/Adventure like XPOSED (with romance in it) and Suspense (yes, relationships as well) and am about to embark on the first true romance novel that I’m co-authoring.

The challenge I have with romance is that I’m not sure I believe, wait I KNOW I don’t believe in Happily Ever After or HEA; but, I’m great at HFN, Happy For Now.
Having said all the above, I also live in total denial—according to my friend Lisa. She says I do believe in HEA. I just haven’t found it yet for myself.
So why do I write about love? For the same reason that 28–32% of the male market reads romance! Deep down we all want to be loved. And some of us only find it in books.

 

How do you know when your idea is big enough to write a book about?

If it’s big in your mind and heart that’s all that matters.

I write contemporary novels (amongst other genres). I know that what I write doesn’t necessarily fall into the strict categories of the romance field nor the mystery-suspense fields.

But I have huge stories inside of me, and they are more significant than genres—they beg to be released from my soul.

Write what your heart tells you to write. If your ideas are “big,” yet they don’t come from that place inside you that begs for release, then who will want to read them? If you start to write a story and can’t seem to continue, maybe because it’s following what’s “in style” at the moment, then the authenticity of your work will not show through.

I lead with my heart, nothing else matters to me. And if no-one buys a book I write, I will still be compelled to write exactly the way my soul leads me.

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You might enjoy Lynda’s latest Contemporary Fiction

 Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money

Lie to Me front red

Lie to Me: An Exposé on Sex for Money
“is insanely captivating, entertaining and exciting. It’s a spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.” R. Dzemo 5 STARS READERS’ FAVORITE BOOK REVIEWS
From a “powerful and unforgettable” author and winner of the Best in Contemporary Fiction 2017 BTRC for Target in the Sun comes another powerful fictional story, Lie to Me, an exposé on sex for money.

How many lives have been ruined for the pleasure of an orgasm?

Forty-something Layla Duncan, a women’s magazine writer, has a dangerous obsession with men who sell steamy sexual encounters to vacationing women in Puerto Vallarta. She infiltrates the underworld of male prostitution, interviews several men and begins to write a mesmerizing exposé of their lives.

Before long the lines between Layla’s personal life and professional assignment become blurred, and she finds herself questioning her value system in a titillating yet disturbing way.

Sparks fly one night when she takes a break from her writing and meets the sensual twenty-something Mateo at a local nightclub. The charismatic yet quiet young Mexican man seems oblivious to his powerful sexual aura but is immediately turned on by Layla. The one-night-stand turns into sporadic hook-ups, while two emotionally damaged lovers long for something neither can put into words.

Lynda Filler has once again delivered a fast-paced, sexy and sometimes gut-wrenching page-turner that will unnerve you and leave you breathless.

Has anyone ever been in love with a man/woman 27 years younger than​ themselves? How did it work out?

I came across this intriguing question and answer. With permission from the person who wrote the response, I’d like to share her answer with you.

What do you think?


It rocked my world completely.

It threw my life into great chaos. I was in a ‘challenging’ marriage that I didn’t want to leave because of the children. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t work it out.

And then, out of nowhere, a young man came into my life and saved my life. We met over books–the reading of them. We talked from 1 in the morning until I boarded an airplane at 3 in the afternoon. I cried for the entire journey. It was not love at first sight—it was a conversation, a meeting of two very lost people. And then I realized that it was love. I never thought I could fall in love with someone so much younger. But I did. And he did. And yes, we had our challenges for sure. But they had nothing to do with age.

This is what I took away from that relationship that lasted several years.

1. Age is just a number.

2. Souls meet when they are supposed to, for a reason.

3. Don’t make excuses to friends or family because the world will never accept or understand you and your lover.

4. Most everyone will believe it’s some kind of financial arrangement. Ignore the chatter, it will only hurt you.

5. Souls have no age, do not exist in time. They just understand that when they meet, they’ve found a connection that both of you have been waiting for your whole life.

6. He saved my life and rescued me from drowning.

7. Accept that eventually, you will need to move on—more than likely.

At a point, I had to ask him to go. It wasn’t about our relationship, but about a healing journey, he needed to take.

If I ever needed anything, he’s the first person I would reach out to for help. And he would be there for me in a heartbeat.

© Reprinted with permission

 

For Lynda Filler’s latest release please visit Amazon  Lie To Me an exposé on sex for money

Lie to Me front red

The Vow

The Vow

© Lynda Filler, Real Love 2018

 

you read my sad, accept my lows

you take me high, make me slow

my mind

and time, our time stands still

 

can you imagine how high we can go

or will it die all that we know we are

before we begin 

 

it happens once 

sometimes never, for some

and when it does

let it be

let it flow

take the beauty, take the love, the passion

let it fortify

a journey, sometimes sad

fraught with turmoil

 

take the love

it’s meant for you

it’s all I have

it’s all I am

all I want to be

one, when I’m with you

 

place your head upon my lap

let me love you

let me take away your worries, allow me in

there is no wrong, no shame, no blame

love is all there is

 

across time and space

we’ve got the gift the world is waiting for

embrace the moments, take the high

let it fill your heart

 

and in your dark hours 

when you are alone

fighting for a world

that disappoints and hurts your heart

remember me

wherever I am, remember my love

the gift you gave me

the time we allowed our love to thrive, alive

beyond age and time

beyond reason and sanity

we basked in its joy and purity

and we loved each other

until time

until infinity

 

and if you need to leave me

I will let you go

 

© The Vow, Real Love 2018

If you think only men pay for sex, you’re wrong!

$.99 CENTS on Amazon!

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Take a walk on the wild side while Layla explores the sensual and sexy side of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.
Lie to Me is insanely captivating, entertaining and exciting. It’s a spellbinding story that explores the psychology of sex in a way that defies Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.” R. Dzemo 5 Stars Readers Favorite Review

 

How many lives have been ruined for the pleasure of an orgasm?
Forty-something Layla Duncan has a dangerous obsession with men who sell steamy sexual encounters to vacationing women in Puerto Vallarta. She infiltrates the underworld of male prostitution, interviews several men and begins to write a mesmerizing exposé of their lives.
What do you do when the lines between your personal life and professional assignment become blurred? Layla finds herself questioning her value system in a titillating yet disturbing way.
Sparks fly one night when she takes a break from her writing and meets the sensual twenty-something Mateo at a local nightclub. The charismatic young Mexican man seems oblivious to his powerful sexual aura but is immediately turned on by Layla. The one-night-stand turns into sporadic hook-ups, while two emotionally damaged lovers long for something neither can put into words.

Lynda Filler has once again delivered a fast-paced, sexy and sometimes gut-wrenching page-turner that will unnerve you and leave you breathless.

 

4

Death…can I visit you there?

 

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I Spy Heaven

My dear friend Kristaline sent this note to me after a lover/friend died suddenly in 2011. I included it on the last page of my poetry book I (Spy) Love.

 

by Kristaline Shannon

It’s so awful when someone is afraid and so awesome when you can ease that fear. Your faith is strong; you will be amazing.

For me, for all of us, it is a park drawn out of sidewalk chalk. The colors don’t exist here and cannot be described but are beautiful. All the toys are made with the special chalk and Elijah and Rick guard the entrance from evil. There is no age or time. There is no pain and everyone you have ever loved or missed is there in some form or another. You have access to everything you ever wanted on an emotional level.

Rylee showed me the entrance just after Michael died. We were at the street fair and drawing on the street with chalk. She drew a blue pizza and said it was for Michael and I asked her why did you make it blue; and she said, “Michael likes blue.” I found the entrance next time I meditated.

 

 

more about life/love/death/dying/overcoming a death sentence: LOVE The Beat Goes On, a memoir