Lover’s Delight.

lovers delight

“She needed my penis more like it! It’s the only explanation. It certainly wasn’t about love, closeness, sharing or testing to see if I had been being unfaithful. It was about simple sexual gratification. She had an itch and I had the closest thing to her that’d scratch it. I’d never suggest such a thing to Sam of course. That’d make it sound cheap. She doesn’t like that. It’d never sit well with her to know that she’d fallen to such a primitive urge. She’s an intelligent, civilised Christian woman. All her decisions are made with purpose. Lust is evil and vile. It doesn’t exist with her.

Nevertheless, those legs parted for a reason. Civility, Christianity, intellect, lovemaking or family planning played no part in it. It must’ve been hard for her to rationalize what’d happened. The soreness must’ve reminded her all day long.”

(…more here.)


Oxygen craving.

Screenshot_2014-02-25-07-59-28“Take this!” I said, pushing her hard against the wall, kissing her deeply, penetrating her body, probing her mouth, stealing what I could from her. She gasped for oxygen but I drew her back in, pressing my face against her nose so she couldn’t get it. If she thought I was being passionate then she would’ve been dangerously wrong. Her knees began to buckle again but I wasn’t letting her have her own away this time.

“No you don’t. No fucking way. You stand up. You face me and take this. Come on! Up! Fucking stand up!”

I turned the water off, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the bedroom still dripping wet. I tossed her onto the mattress, spread her legs apart and said, “You’ll take whatever I give to you and more, right?”

More here in SEETHINGS.



“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