There's a circus on my street! In the big field that I usually cut across to go to the grocery store. Red and gold wagons and tinkly music and horses and stuff. huh. In the store, I heard It's Gonna Be Me on the radio, and then the announcer, with fine Olympic fervor, pointed out that it's Stefan Holm's favorite song to jump to. Did I say I could
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But there's a difference between writing orgasms and reading them. You may feel blah writing them, but I assure you, they come out hot in your stories. I meant that to sound dirty. I did!
Someone I can't remember once described writing sex as slogging through the mud. This person, of course, wrote the hottest stuff and I've never forgotten that, because how sad! To not even get the rush you're writing. Except that now that I've written a few of those rushes myself, I find it's not quite the experience it once was. Yet people say the stories are hot... *shrugs* Hazard of the biz, maybe?
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Must. Resist. Punsabouthardwork. Whew!
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Words that a slasher can live by!
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