Overstepped Passion

c1df24ba3eb7664df9164d2a6fdc6264If only she’d told someone about the man who’d come into her life. If only she hadn’t been such a recluse. She wanted to keep her relationship a secret but it had worked against her. She’d made friends with the wrong man and now his menacing penis and tongue feverishly pushed in and out of her private places. Raping her wasn’t enough for him. This was something new. This was about systematically taking apart everything that made her human—a woman, a female.

More here in SEETHINGS.


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.

Shampoo Shenanigans


Then November arrived and they overflowed with the cascading sheen that covered Brisbane. This round of thunderstorms brought me the glorious scene of a naked woman bathing in a stream of water, behind wet, foggy glass. I could’ve spent hours watching Nina and those streams meander across the curves of her body, foamy suds making their way down into her secret places.

“Do it again,” I said.


“I said… do it again. Wash your hair again.”

“It’s clean already,” she replied, blinking through a film of water.

“Do it again,” I demanded.


“It doesn’t need it.”

“I’m not interested if it needs it!”

“Why? What are you going to do if I do?”

“What do you think I’m gonna do, bake a soufflé? I’m going to watch.”

She giggled and looked at me with a smile. “Okay.” She reached for the bottle of shampoo, poured some of the gooey liquid into her hands and began to work it through her hair.

“Make sure you get it good and clean. I want lots of foam.”


I raised my voice. “Good and clean! Lots of foam this time!”

She nodded in acknowledgement and then rubbed her hair until a giant lathery turban of foam overflowed and large globules began to land around her feet.

“Come over here,” I said.

She stepped towards the glass with her hands still in her hair.

“Not that way,” I said. “Turn away. I want to see your back.”

She turned, wiggled her bottom and then said, “Now what?”

“Stand up straight. That’s better! And for God’s sake, take your damn hands out of your hair! You look stupid!”

“Hey! No need to be nasty!” She twisted and dropped her arms by her side.

“Can’t you be quiet for a minute?”


“Hang on a minute.”

A moment or two went by. She slapped a hand against her hip. “Well?”

(…more 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


In a private moment.

looking at each other

There we stood facing each other, kissing as we always did, playing and tugging at our clothes as if we were experts, but neither of us was committed to removing a thread of clothing. We’d been in the room for almost half an hour before she took a step back and slowly unzipped her skirt. It fell to her feet. She then reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, pulled a strap over each of shoulder and then extracted it through one armhole of her top. She dropped it to one side, came back to me, gave me another long kiss and then lifted her top over her head.

And there they were. For the first time since entering puberty, two new butterflies emerged from cocoons. They unfurled their wings and revealed nature’s wonder. I wanted to stare at those two beautiful butterflies forever but politeness lifted my eyes to hers. I watched her turn and walk towards the bed. She sat on its edge and gestured for me to come over.

Before I’d considered what I’d do when I’d got there, she’d already reached for my pants—pulling them down, manoeuvring them over the throbbing obstacle in front. It bounced up into sight and I wondered what she thought of it. Did she see an emerging butterfly too? I couldn’t tell. She was just as kind and lifted her eyes to mine. I suppose she felt the same mix of politeness and shyness.

I undressed myself completely and looked at her lying down on the bed. She smiled back. She had one tiny triangle of fabric left on her body—a cocoon that covered one last emerging butterfly. She kindly lifted herself so I could take it off… and there it was, perfect and pure. I managed a new state of hardness after that.

There are no words to describe how the uniting feels, not really. As it is, uniting does it no justice. Forget about lovemaking, sex, fuck and orgasm too, the difference between going in and being in is so great that it consumes every bit of text in a dictionary. There are no words left for what comes after. Everything else is just that, beyond words, beyond precious!

So it was that within the blink of an eye, in our private moment, we crossed over and left our childhoods behind. We had transcended. We walked as adults. Soon Nina’s sanctuary became mine to visit time and time again. It was something Sam never offered. She never had any to give. Come to me Saturday! Come to me now! Show me the feast and give me the sanctuary I know Nina has waiting for me!

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.)

Reviewing SEETHINGS!

Shazam! A reader has provided the first review of my novel SEETHINGS, posted at GOODREADS sometime yesterday!

If you love reading books about Sex, Lust, Murder, Psychopaths and Mystery you could read the Bible but that’s too long and boring. So instead read Seethings, the new book by author Michael Forman. It’s got the lot and more. You’ll be glued to the pages right to the very end. A very intense psychological story with twists and turns when you least expect them. A very good first novel. Well done Mister Forman.’

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 )

Pain is Pleasure.

pain is pleasure

“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.


That’s not what virgins usually say at this point. They cry.


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?”

(more here.)

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)