You are my Inspiration_________??

[clcarne]

Sorry I meant this to go as a new thread.

What writer inspired your style - if any? I admit that Anne Rice is an author that I find stimulating. Also Reage of course.

My 'Ranch' was inspired by the total sex fantasyof the Beauty books. And my 'Master' series is sort of 'O'ish. (The star trek story was just a trekker/klingon fetish.)

Do men have writers that they emulate.

Are you influenced by the writers that turn you on.

to my stories:

http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1851
__________________

 

[Guest]

Hi, Dixon.

Exploring the feminine side?

 

[KillerMuffin]

That's not Dixon.

I don't get much inspiration from authors, I don't think.

I really loved the Ranch series! I put up a thread about that about a bazillion years ago. Two, actually.

 

[clcarne]

Errr-- I'm not Dixon. If I want to explore my feminine side I can just reach down and there it is....

 

[KillerMuffin]

Dixon is a man. Dixon Carter Lee.

CV is just being its usual trollish self. It thinks this is amusing.

 

[clcarne]

Man on man bsdm

I dipped into this idea in my latest Master story and wondered about the scarcity of these on the list. Maybe this isn't a thing for other women - but the idea of guy on guy Ds with a lucky woman thrown in there somewhere gets me kind of hot.

 

[KillerMuffin]

D/s isn't really my thang, but guy on guy with a lucky woman thrown in sure makes me one happy critter.

 

[sweetnpetite]

i read a lot, but i'm npt consciouly infuenced by anyones style. I don't generally read one author in particular, either. Two authors who's style I'm impressed by are Piers Anthony who incorporates an amazing amount of word play and humor, and Judy Blume who always makes you feel like she really understands her subject. I think the latter is probably what I most aim for.

 

[Angeline]

Okay, it's mostly poetry for me so far,

but I'll take some Billie Holiday and the sexiest poet ever, Pablo Neruda. Look at this poem. Damn.

"In You the Earth"
By Pablo Neruda

Little
rose,
roselet,
at times,
tiny and naked,
it seems
as though you would fit
in one of my hands,
as though I'll clasp you like this
and carry you to my mouth,
but
suddenly
my feet touch your feet and my mouth your lips:
you have grown,
your shoulders rise like two hills,
your breasts wander over my breast,
my arm scarcely manages to encircle the thin
new-moon line of your waist:
in love you have loosened yourself like sea water:
I can scarcely measure the sky's most spacious eyes
and I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.