Noirotica. Nautical Style

Sex on a boatThis couple tease each other for kicks!

“Why don’t put some clothes on and we’ll go ashore. You better get some sunscreen on those shoulders. They look like they’re about to burn. She reached for the bottle of sunscreen. Here, why don’t you do it? I like it when you rub me.”

“You mean−”

“I know what I said.” She handed him the sunscreen and then tapped him on his thighs. Can I sit here?”

Mitchell sat back and parted his knees so she could sit on the seat in front of him. “Sure.”

“Now this is cosy. Don’t you think?” Her teenage bottom nestled against the insides of his legs and his d*ck.

“Very cosy. Let me just get something out of the way before you wriggle back any further.”

She giggled. “We don’t want to damage that now do we? It may come in handy later.”

Her mother would’ve said something like that. In fact, she probably did. Twenty two years ago, he would’ve rubbed the lotion on her and erected a monument to the occasion.

“I can feel you growing Mitchell,” Natasha said with a laugh. “You can’t hide that from me. In twenty- two years, he hadn’t changed a bit.”

“I can’t help that. It does its own thing.”

“Does it always pop up unexpectedly like that? Mum said it did.”

“Unexpectedly like that? No, that wasn’t unexpected. I completely expected that to happen. You’re mother would’ve expected it too. It wasn’t always a surprise you know. She used to tease me all the time. I think she’d get off on making me hard.

She giggled again. “That’s mum alright. So, what makes you hard Mister Felding? You weren’t hard when we put the anchor down. You had a flippy-floppy one then.

“Stop it Natasha.”

“Tell me what makes you hard Mitchell and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Mitchell continued to rub the skin on her shoulders even though the lotion had long disappeared from its surface.

“If you really want to know, it’s you. You park your bum here and then wriggle it on me − what’s a man to do but take some interest? I just love touching your skin too. Your back is so fine. Your neck… you can’t just come over here do that and not expect to get a twitch out of it!”

“She told me she’d make you twitch. That was the very word she used.

“Jesus Christ! Is there anything you two didn’t talk about?”

“Umm, nope!”

“Did you mother tell you what would happen right after she made me twitch.”


“Then what was it?”

Natasha stood, turned herself around, stepped up to the seat and squatted. “This!” She said. She took hold of his erection, licked her other hand, smeared her shaven pussy with spit and then wriggled down onto him.

His eyes rolled backwards and his lips parted. “Unnff.”

“Was it that Mitchell? What did you say?”

Mitchell’s eyes fluttered as her heat transferred across to him, flooding his body with pleasure.

“Was that what my mother did to you after she made you hard?”

“He opened his eyes and replied, “Yes.”

She began a slow rhythm of rising and falling. “What else Mitchell? What else would she do to…

This excerpt comes from Michael Forman’s follow-up novel to SEETHINGS. This yet untitled novel is having the final touches put to it right now. Keep in touch with its progress by subscribe to this site.


The story begins with SEETHINGS and it’s available here.

Totally Hooked!

Noirotica? I’d never hear of it before either. Now I’m Totally hooked!

Dammit! I just can’t wait for his next novel to come out!

I hear Michael Forman is about to release a sequel to SEETHINGS and, if it’s anything like the original, it’s going to have me melting at the knees wanting more.

Neo + Noir + Erotica = Neo-Noirotica. Write that down!

Noir: The Noir genre came out of the fifties. Rather than following the investigation side in a murder mystery, Noir follows the victim/s and/or murderer/s instead. There’s a darker element always surrounding the protagonist/s. Think of a storm cloud hanging over your head as you’re reading it, or perhaps there’s a persistent shadow that’s not your own intermittently appearing in the corner of your eye. Something about it is deliciously annoying. That’s Noir.

Noir isn’t something we see too much of these days. The closest we get to it in a contemporary novel would be something like Shutter Island (also a movie). Technically, this book’s genre would be better classified as Neo-Noir. Similarly, Forman’s story is modern and should also carry the Neo prefix with it.

Erotica: Well, you know this baby. Someone’s getting some, let’s say, special attention… and it’s the reader getting some too! Yes, each writer has their own way of approaching sex. Forman’s way is, at first, well restrained. He’s sweetly gentle. As the book progresses however, more is revealed until the narrative reaches a point of no return. Crafting such an explosive ending and timing it with the orgasm was something Forman did exceptionally well. The murder in SEETHINGS had me gasping until the very last page. How could someone do that? I asked.

He writes that his new novel is about to be released. I can’t wait to read it. His writing style is alluring, teasing, disturbing… begging me to turn the next page and find out what next diabolical event was being hatched.

Have a look, it’s totally worth it! – Angelwanderer

Screenshot_2014-02-25-07-59-28Join the growing list of readers and enjoy the latest in my special style of noirotica. Use the form below and I’ll be in touch shortly with more juicy moments!

Lustfully yours, Ax


Tease Torment


I kissed her face, pulled her away from the wall further and then slammed her body against it even harder. I enjoyed the sensation of the hot air escaping from her mouth onto my face. I thrusted my groin into hers again and waited for the sounds of pleasure to rise. She groaned and beckoned for more. I wanted to slam her into that wall just to find out if she was even capable of saying stop. A crack even developed in the plasterboard. I remembered having to tell myself to settle down. I didn’t want to break my new toy. I don’t know how many times I pushed her against that wall but I do know she didn’t object to any of it.

And I never noticed when my other hand found her bottom. It’d become buried somewhere inside the cleft. I extracted it and placed it above her left breast. I unclenched my other and let go of her blouse, smoothing its creases across her chest. I placed my hand under the breast so that the fabric hugged its form tightly. I stared at it for a while, admiring it, especially the bit where the nipple altered the cloth’s shape ever so slightly. What a magnificent thing that nipple was, perfectly designed to attract a mate. A mate had certainly found it. One was making use of it. One was taking the time to appreciate its perfection.

She opened her eyes and looked down at me quivering. “What are you doing?”

‘Tormenting you.’


She shuddered. “It’s working.”

She began to wriggle. I moved in closer and said to her softly, “Don’t move.”

“Why? Are you going to torment me like this all day?”

“Don’t speak either.”

(…more here.)


“You heard me! Get your fucking head down!”NEO-NOIR-EROTICA

I push her head downwards. “Give me that thing!” I demanded, yanking a pillow out from underneath her face. Her head flops onto the mattress below. Beads of sweat fall from my chin and chest, landing on her back, forming a trickle that runs along the gutter of her spine and down to her neck. I push hard and her shoulder is driven against the post. She flinches as it digs in.

“Stop! Hang on! This hurts. Let me move to the side of it!”

She let’s go of the post and wriggles sideways, reaching out for the horizontal bar that forms part of the lower bed head. The bar is no more than fifteen centimetres above the mattress—perfect for squeezing a body part through. This gives me an idea.

“Slide back a bit.”

I pull her away from the bed head and she rises to accommodate. She glances over her a shoulder, shuffles backwards on her knees and then lowers herself, placing her elbows, hands and forehead onto the mattress. I move back and forth slowly, spying the gap, waiting for her to relax. Little catches at the end of each breath indicates that her body’s tuning to the rhythm of our movement again. It doesn’t take her long to make her move. She leans forward, turns her head sideways and lays her cheek against the soft sheet. Now is my chance. Using all the muscle and might of my body, I push forward, as hard as I can! She’s always liked it a bit rough.

She screams as her head slides forwards and instantly connects to underside of the bar. “Shit! That hurts Mitchell!”

I knew it would but your head was supposed to go through.

“There’s a bar here you know! Can’t you see it? Ouch! Back up a bit. My head is stuck under it.”

Really? Stuck? “Well stay there, don’t move!”

“I can’t. Back up. Ouch! Stop pushing for a moment so I can get my head out!

Get out? Not on your life! Your head was supposed to go through, not get wedged under it. “Down!” I yell, thrusting her forward again.

“Oww! Okay, okay, alright, underneath is what you want. I get it! Why didn’t you say so? You’ll have to push the mattress down first. I can’t get under by myself.”

She grabs hold of the bar and begins to wriggle her head from side to side, waiting for me to abandon her. “Oww! Well I won’t fit under it,” she says sarcastically. “Why don’t you come and stand on the mattress?”

You want me to help? I’ve already accommodated you many times. I take a hold of the top of the bed head with both hands and begin to extract myself, letting her believe I’ll assist. Instead of withdrawing entirely, I plough back into her at speed, using my body mass and the power in my legs and arms to shunt her forward again. She shouts as her head slowly slides forward, passing underneath the bar. She grips it, tries to push backwards—it’s useless. I can’t get her right through! The fit is so tight. Damn! I wanted the bar over her neck. She’s stuck!

The noise coming from under the bar is annoying. The wailing is reminiscent of the moment a man finds himself in when he’s confronted with an apprehensive virgin. He wants to push on but discomfort has her holding him back. It’s been a long time since Nina was a virgin and she’d be the first one to say that sex is not all bad once you get through it. She once said to me, “Mitchell, if a girl wasn’t ready, she wouldn’t find herself in that situation in the first place. Besides, it’ll happen one day, so it might as well be then. She’s ready but just doesn’t know it.”

She was absolutely right of course—and she’s has perfect insight. All virgins stopped being virgins at one point or another. The inevitable is inevitable. Nina’s sounding like a virgin, now, screaming, pleading for me to stop, believing that such a big thing won’t fit into such a small space. She needs reminding that the inevitable is inevitable. After all, she put herself in this situation. She’s ready. She just doesn’t know it.

“It’ll hurt just once dear,” I said calmly.

I pull out a little and then give her body one more shove from behind, watching her head scrape on the underside of the bar. “My ears! My ears Mitchell!”

I can hear the awkward sounds of her flesh compressing against the steel. I can see her right ear crumple backwards as it passes beneath it. “YEOOOW!!! NO MITCHELL NOOO!!!”

It’s like listening to a sixteen year old. She’s tensing up, hands flailing about the place grabbing at anything that’ll allow her to push back. She can’t find anything so her head slowly continues to creep forward, grinding against the steel, raking the skin backwards until her head finally pops out on the other side. The gap snaps shut as the mattress rises and clamps her neck against the bar.


Now that’s not what virgins usually say!

She rattles the bar and pushes against the wall on the other side and shouts again, “Have you gone totally fucking mad Mitchell? That fucking hurt! Jesus Christ! I told you it was hurting. Didn’t you hear me? Get me out of here! Shit man, I told you and you still did it! You’ve ripped my god damn ears off! What the hell is wrong with you?”

I couldn’t care less. I achieved what I wanted and so move back and forth in a steady rhythm again. “Don’t you do that! I said don’t do that!”

Or what?

“Get me out of here! And don’t do that! I said don’t do that! You son of a bitch! You stop that right now! You get me out of here! Shit, my ear’s bleeding!”

Bleeding? That’s no concern of mine. Blood is supposed to be part of the deal. You’re over the hardest bit. The rest is easy. We’re not stopping. It’s time to pick up the pace!

“I said don’t do that! You pig!”

Pig? Why do women always reach for pig when they’re upset with a man? Is pig supposed to be an insult? Why pig? She’s the one looking like one stuck on a spit!

Oh well, another thing I came to learn about virgins was that once they’re past the worst they’re a hell of a lot nicer to deal with.

“Listen to me! Dammit Mitchell! You stop that now!”

Or so I thought. She was supposed to turn that frown upside down and place her trust in experience. “Don’t worry sweetheart, this’ll all be sorted out very soon.”

Look at me, aren’t I the supportive one? Despite her abuse I’m still full of encouragement.

“Shit! I think my ear’s bleeding. I can’t tell. Can you look and see if I’m bleeding? Will you please stop moving? I don’t want you to do that!”

Blood? Who cares? It’s expected. It’s your first time. Can we please get back to the business at hand?

“I said stop doing that!”

She’s not giving in easily. I give her a deeper length of my rod and she moans. It was enough to silence her—only momentarily. “Aren’t you going to stop? Or don’t you care at all?”

Jesus Christ woman! What is it with you? There’s a sting and soreness but it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Hell, if history is anything to go by you’ll like this and probably ask for it again. Now get over it. I know I have. “It looks fine,” I reply.

“How can you tell if I’m bleeding from there?”

It’s true. I can’t see her head. The bit I’m dealing with has everything but one. What’s spoiling things now is all the bloody chatter from the other side of the bar. “Don’t worry, I think the problem will go away soon,”


It did and I have her high libido to thank. I knew she’d like it. She does what she always does and, at the moment she rises to climax, her arse bucks vigorously. She screams towards the end. She reminds me of a horse racing along the final straight at the Melbourne Cup—picks up speed, and gallops on down to the finishing line. As her breaths of ecstasy subside, a muffled voice on the other side of the bar asks, “Again?”

“Of course my dear.”

Now I have to work out another way to hurt her. I like breaking her and putting her back together together again.

(From the novel SEETHINGS )

Screenshot_2014-02-25-07-59-28Join the growing list of readers and enjoy the latest in my special style of noirotica. Use the form below and I’ll be in touch shortly with more juicy moments!

Lustfully yours, Ax


Seeding a sexy thriller plot with chocolate.

Tasting chocolate

In 2005 an idea came to me after viewing Wolf Creek (an Australian thriller movie). What happens to killers who don’t get caught, ever?

For those of you who don’t know this flick: A trio of friends take a driving, camping holiday across the vast, unpopulated plains of the Australian Outback in an old, unreliable car. They break down near Wolf Creek, miles from anywhere and a seemingly obliging yet scruffy-looking man assists them by towing them back to his camp where he can service it… but he tows them for hours and hours, somewhere further away, into the dark, bleak emptiness – to his lair.

Cut to a scene where the twenty-somethings wake from a drug induced stupor: Man tortures each one independently, perfectly pervertedly.

The end leaves us with a squeamish gut, knowing what this sadistic psychopath has done to innocent travellers. Although wounded from a couple of unsuccessful beatings, this outback butcher does his victims over and then disappears into the nothingness. A good-guy-bettering-the-bad-guy cliche is broken apart as the credits begin roll.

So what happened to him? What happened to this murdering piece of human refuse? And what was that unsettling sensation I felt that grew with each credit that scrolled by? Was I disturbed by the simple intensity and gore of the plot or the sense of unresolved justice? Either way I liked the uneasy feeling. Exploring this notion of trying to understand it was sickly tantalizing. It was as if I’d never had chocolate and someone just gave me the tiniest piece to try, enough to entice my curiosity but not enough to answer every new question rising from within.


SEETHINGS is my exploration of making chocolate from just a sensation.

How many unsolved murders are there each year?

And who are these murderers? If justice doesn’t see to them, where do they go? Do they just blend in and go free to live their lives without answering to anyone? More importantly, can I too make a reader feel as uncomfortable as I when Wolf Creek’s credits began to roll by making my own style of chocolate?

SEETHINGS is my chocolate.

SEETHINGS novel by Michael Forman

SEETHINGS is available in Paperback and Kindle versions.

The paperback is available here.

Kindle version is available here.

If you don’t have a Kindle reader, don’t worry, Kindle will provide you with a free app for your phone or tablet so you can start reading right away. It’s available on the same page you order SEETHINGS from. 

-Michael Forman (author )

A Muse’s Pearl


“Alright. This is so weird. I can’t believe we’re doing this.” She crossed her legs, took his dick in her right hand and looked around. “If anyone sees this we’ll both go to jail.”

“Point me to the sky. Now three more deep, slow wanks and make the last one count. Make it come to the top like before.”

Natasha stroked and drew up a large drop of clear semen to its eye.

“What do you see this time?”

“It’s a pearl! It’s like a glistening pearl! It’s just sitting there, shining in the light.”

“Good girl. Bring your head this way and put the pearl between you and the yacht.”

“Far out! There’s a teeny-tiny upside down boat on the end of your penis Mitchell, er… Mr Artist.”

“Let me see. Perfect. Now sit up again, be careful you don’t lose your pearl. Keep its plinth upright so it doesn’t fall off.”

“Plinth, how cute! Okay, now what?”

“Take your index finger and put the pearl on the tip of it. Don’t let it fall.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect. Hold it up between us so we can see through it.”

The finger and little sphere of liquid passed over his stomach, Natasha had to turn around and move onto her knees to get the angle right.

“Now look.”

“It’s you!”

“It’s you too. We are on your finger.”

“That’s amazing! How on earth do you find these things?”

“It’s like I said before. Everything in this world is the same. It’s all light and shadow. You just have to be prepared to observe everything, including the little pearls in this life. They have just as much power.”

“It’s no wonder my mother loved you.”

“Now put it on your lips.”

“Pardon me?”

“Take the pearl I gifted you and place it on your mouth. Don’t be afraid.”

“Umm… okay.”

“Now run it around, like you do when you’re putting on lip gloss. That’s it. Now turn sideways so I can see the shine. Perfect. Now kiss me.”

Mitchell grabbed her and pulled her down, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. She let out a squeal just before their mouths met but it was quickly smothered. The slippery kiss went on for many minutes. The muffled squeals became more audible when he suddenly pushed her away from it.

Her eyes popped open. “Far fucking out Mitchell! Geeze Louise! What the fuck was that?” She collapsed in a heap beside him, quivering and short of breath. “That was nuts. I’ve never had… you’ve never done that before! Where the hell did that come from?”

“It’s something I’d dreamed of doing sometime ago.”

“That’s just… whoah… did you ever do that to my mother?”

“Nope. That one’s yours baby. No one’s had that.”

“Man! That should have a warning label on it. I love this muse thing! Let’s do it again.”

Screenshot_2014-02-25-07-59-28(Inspired by the new Novel SEETHINGS)

Join the growing list of readers and enjoy the latest in my special style of noirotica. Use the form below and I’ll be in touch shortly with more juicy moments!

Lustfully yours, Ax


Well Hello Clit.

butterfly“There ya go sport, well done. You did it!”

Yes, I talk to it like it’s detached. I ‘ll have conversations with it, teasing it to talk back. I don’t think that’s an unusual expectation. It replies anyway… not in the language you and I use but I get a response just the same.

You see it’s owner doesn’t moan much. She’s a conservative lover that one. Lisa’s not one to writhe and twist about like a wild child. She’s frustrating that way. I prefer my lovers to shout out and buck. That’s how I know things are going well. The only way I know Lisa is going well is by a tiny pinch she gives my finger. That’s why I leave one in whenever I’m talking to it’s good friend the clit.

I’m not complaining. Lisa’s got a great body… her skin is creamy smooth and her hair falls gently over some very sexy shoulders. I love a lady’s neck and shoulders, this is where femininity starts. And when she smiles, those eyes of hers twinkle so brightly… it’s almost as if I could fall into them.

Her pussy’s not bad either. It’s just as inviting. I’ve seen a few and this one’s the one I’d choose to put on my mantlepiece. Unfortunately, it’s just a bit sleepy in the bedroom.

Yes, she’ll come quietly. It’s easy to miss. Her breathing changes but that’s not enough to go by. The true give away is a tiny clamping-down she produces just inside her pussy. My finger acts as a gauge, telling me were in her orgasm she is.  Without it, I’m just guessing.

I know what she thinks about my abrupt finger insertion at the start of play. She’d tell you that I’m like all guys, sticking things in there way too soon, well before a girl’s had time to warm up but, let me say this in my defense: I don’t do it for everyone. There’s a reason why Lisa gets special treatment.

Firstly, she only hates the beginning of it… well, let’s say, she tolerates it. By the time she’s on her way to orgasm, she doesn’t even know it’s there anymore.

Secondly, she won’t come on a finger fuck. She won’t come on a cock either. She’s a clit-girl through and through. If anything else is messing around with Lisa’s downstairs department, she’s not going to get there. The trick is not to move that finger once it’s in and let her body desensitise over the following few minutes.

Her husband worries she’s going to bite down on him one day but she’s a good girl. She holds her teeth well away. She looks after him. He looks after her too.

“Can I make us tea?” He asks extracting himself from her mouth.

She smacks her lips and nods. She looks down at me. “Mitchell, you want one?”

I lift my head and see that cheeky smile looking down at me. She’s a gem like that…  very courteous and a real sweetie too. “Just white for me thanks.”

Ken leaves the room and I lift myself over his wife, lowering my hips onto hers. Nice and slow I insert, watching her eyes roll back in her head as she takes in the fullness of my shaft.

It’s a good arrangement… and it kind of suits my laid back personality. I don’t want strings and neither do they. Sex with them a couple of times a month does me fine. To be frank, if Lisa was my wife, I would’ve filed for divorce by now. I just can’t handle the conservative-orgasm thing. Like I said, I prefer one who lets go and shows her approval. I guess, in a way, she does do that. If she didn’t like it, I wouldn’t be up to my nuts in the prettiest pussy on the planet… and they’ve been having me doing this for over for a year now!

Ken and Lisa have been married for years, ten I think, and we get on like a house on fire. There’s always dinner. There’s wine too, and silly jokes. That first time was strange and nervy. Entering someone else’s woman while he watches on is a strange thing… but only strange once. Now we talk, experiment and drink tea while enjoying our threesome nights.

She wraps her arms around me and asks me to push up high. We kiss deeply and our hips grind together. Her breathing quickens. Is it true? Could this be her first vaginal orgasm?

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I’ll be damned. She’s never done that before. That’s cute.

The thing is, he comes too quickly. Poor fella. She needs a bit more than he can give. He’s one of those two-strokers. I’d be angry if it were me. I like sex way too much to have it over so soon. What’d be the point of it all?

“Sit on me?” I ask. Without encouragement, she closes her legs and we roll over together. She rises and brushes her hair from her face.

“Can you do her from behind next?” Ken asks entering the room, placing the cups on the side table.

It’s a request I’ve heard several times. “Sure,” I reply. Lisa smiles.

He likes to watch his beautiful woman being driven from behind. I don’t blame him. I’d like to watch it happening sometime too. Those breasts would swing back and forth in time with her hair. I’d like to see her flesh being pounded, those sexy ripples being sent along her silky body.

“Can you take a photo of her face this time?” I ask.


“I want to see what she looks like when I’m doing it.”

Ken’s already got hundreds of pictures of my nuts cosily nestled against his wife’s sweet pussy. I don’t see the fascination. Surely a man can get by with one or two clear and decent shots. What’s he gonna do with a few hundred more? They all look pretty similar to me anyway.

If it were up to me, I’d get another guy in so I could go around the front and watch her face myself. I don’t need shots of it. I’d prefer to watch in real time.

Lisa leans down and kisses me. “Thank you.”

Again? Wow! This is new! Or is it?

You see, I’m developing a brand new theory about her. I think she’s been having orgasms all along but keeping them to herself. Perhaps she didn’t want her husband knowing how much of a good time she has on someone else’s dick. I don’t think she should worry about that, he’s happy just taking pics. I say let it out girl. You’re already having sex with another man. You got over that idea fine… and don’t tell me you’re doing this for your husband. I see the fire in your eyes. You’re the one who makes the calls… and those sweet kisses of yours feel pretty real to me.

“Can you do it now?”

“Okay Ken. Get your camera ready. Spin around sweetie.”

Lisa nods, smiles and flicks her hair to one side, lifting one leg over my chest. Yes, she likes to stay connected too.

(Inspired by the new Novel SEETHINGS)

Nina’s Surrender.

nina's surrender

“Alright, I am! I am!” Her legs were separated about as far as they could go and she was bent at right angles to the wall. “You’ll pay for a new skirt, do you know that!”

I reached down for the sodden crotch of her knickers and grabbed them at the cleft of her body. She twitched as my hand entered that forbidden region. “Not those. I mean, I can just take them off and—”

Can you believe that? After losing such an expensive garment and making it her business to tell me about it, she still wanted to protect the tiniest, most inexpensive bit of cloth on her body.


We both know it’s not about protecting the knickers. It’s about preserving the last line of defence. A controlled surrender offers dignity. I wasn’t interested in providing dignity, not to Nina. Those gates of hers were coming down r. I stood beside her and held her neck with my left hand. “You want this to happen.” I squeezed her knickers tightly and felt the warmth of her wetness ooze around my fingers.

“I don’t want this. I don’t want—”

She does!

“You want it like this and I’ll show you that you do.”

(…more here.)


AudioSteam – Sexually SEETHINGS

Find out what all the fuss about.

This sexually charged novel is gritty, gutsy, naughty and dangerous to the touch. There’s BDSM, erotica, love and steamy affairs. Have a listen and find your way to

-Michael Forman (Author)

 The Novel ¦The Author ¦ Order 

Michael Forman’s books on Goodreads ratings: 4 (avg rating 4.50)


‘Forman’s writing style is artful, with the protagonist Mitchell’s warped thought processes masterfully exposed. The author has a powerful and vivid command of language and his word pictures are stark and disturbingly real.’  – Linda J Bettenay, author of ‘Secrets Mothers Keep’ and ‘Wishes For Starlight’