She looked over at the graduate student, who would be working in her office for the next three Wednesdays, and whom she was helping with her research.
There was something Roman about her profile, as if she’d walked straight out of an Italian Renaissance painting. Her dark hair was pulled back, her pale skin contrasted her brown eyes and the dark arched eyebrows. Like herself, this girl wore black. Strictly black. The only colour in her face came from the red lipstick, which emphasized her luscious lips.
The sun broke through the clouds and lit the office briefly.
She looked down again at the book that she was reading for her doctoral thesis and reminded herself to concentrate.
“Would you mind if I ask you something?”. Her alto broke the silence. "Fire ahead", she said and listened intently as they discussed the author's life and how it affected her views on women in her work. She noticed the furrow in her brow as she talked and thought and tried to remember how she herself had sat in this office and asked similar earnest questions.
As they continued to talk, she stood up and walked over to the side table, where she always kept a thermos with coffee. She gestured with her cup, questioning her with raised eyebrows on whether she too wanted some coffee.
The young girl stood up, rather too swiftly, and it took her by surprise. She almost spilled her coffee. "Careful", said the young student, as she steadied her hand. She felt the rush of blood, as their hands met, and the warmth of her skin permeated hers.
And in a rush, she imagined grabbing her wrist, pulling her close, and getting a taste of that mouth, those lips, oh those full-blooded red lips. Her mind's eye visualized them kissing, and she felt weak at the knees. She would kiss her in the neck, under her ears, along her clavicle. She would unbutton the cardigan, lift the t-shirt; she had already glimpsed the burgundy straps of the bra beneath. She would liberate her breasts from their restraint, and giddily she imagined kissing the nipples, alternately, lapping them into an aroused state, tugging gently at them with her teeth.
She had this vision of drawing her close, shoving the papers off her desk, hoisting her buttocks onto the table and unbuttoning her fly. Of her hand, intuitively finding its way into the graduate’s panties, and discovering the moistness inside. Of rubbing her clit with the tips of her fingers, of cupping her in her hand and gently nudging inside. Of watching the young girl writhe in ecstasy, as she touched her everywhere. Of kissing that mouth, as it begged for more. Of hearing her pant as she worked her towards an orgasm. Of feeling her go limp in her arms. Of kissing her gently, and whispering her name.
“Are you all right?”, the student said, brusquely awakening her from her reverie. “Yes", she smiled, rather flushed and she poured her a cup of coffee.
Elena prefers women
Blog bling
Soooooo, somebody out there has already watched a few episodes of the new season (and posted frame grabs) and oh boy, however they are going to turn this train wreck into something watchable is too much of a challenge for my elementary intelligence.
What can I say? It's as if someone decided to read every L Word forum out there, take all the suggestions that were nixed by loyal followers and thrust them all into this last season.
Season six = season sux. Royally. But as usual, we will all watch it.
Well, what do we make of this? It would seem that the truth is already out there? Be honest, when they said woman in the swimmingpool, didn't you all immediately think Jenny?
And while I'm at it, hello Xena, you warrior princess, you... wait, you're a cop now. That's hot.
ETA: I know now who dies. Well, well, well...
Well, hummunah hummunah, Kim Cattrall. It's all in the name of art, of course, as the leggy 52-year old adores sixteenth-century Italian master Tiziano Veccelli and decided to strip down in a bid to keep two of Titian's works in Britain. The Duke of Sutherland is probably feeling the effects of the current credit crunch and has offered them to the National Galleries of Scotland for a paltry 50 million GBP.
Below is the eight wonder of the world in question:
Would you consider losing your clothes for this? If it got me some one-on-one time with Ms. Cattrall (remember: this is the woman who write Satisfaction, the art of the female orgasm), I would have to think about it.
This posted by Chiara S. at afterellen.com in response to a post by Grace Chu about the L Word poster for season 6.
I'm sorry, I just don't get it.
Or maybe I'm conditioned by the fact that my SO has seen her up close and personal on several occasions and gave less than stellar reviews about her looks and general politeness.
Apparently, she even gives Nicole Richie pre-baby Harlow a run for her money.
Anyway, let's all just give her that sainthood now and then maybe she can just disappear, like the Wicked Witch of West, in a puff of smoke. We all get it, Angelina, you are our next Saviour come to earth to cleanse our filthy souls... yawn.
Madge, honey, I don't care if you're the next poster child for LVMH and you can all screech, yes, but it's Vuitton, darling! Where I come from, *this* is known as astroturf.
Now go talk to Stella dearest and see if she can loan you something less Christmas-tree like... Really...
Something else to dream about: Dita von Teese engages Scarlett Johansson... in a dance and then some. Who would have thought that little Scarlett of the Horse Whisperer would become such delectable fare for our eyes. As for Dita, she is always perfect.
For once, I have nothing to add. The photo speaks for itself.
Yes, me dears, Elena did go to catholic school with nuns for teachers.
Did we have naughty fantasies about what went on under their frocks? Not really, as they were old crones, of the mousy sanctimonious grey-haired variety and lacked the designer finesse of a full habit. But honeys, give me the nun at 1.45 in the following trailer any time... my fantasy will be working overtime tonight! Now, where can I get me some angel wings?
Some days I must be the stupidest chick on the face of this earth.
Looking at a photo of la Lohan, and reflecting on her latest comments about not being a lesbian, but maybe living la vida loca as a teensy bit of a bisexual, I had a sense of déjà vu. Remember the episode of the L Word in which Tina and the agent are arguing over the future of Nikki's career? And then and there it came to me...
Remind me to drink less coffee as tea seems to have a mind-bending effect on me!
Someone in Duffy's management must have been on drugs when they sanctioned the use of her song 'Mercy' for the Kotex ad below. As for the ad itself, well, yeah, I can totally relate to nail polish for my pet beaver... Devised by the same team who created the immortal catchphrase "Have a happy period"?
On a side note, beaver is apparently the 11th most used word in Oz for 'down south' or a girl's va-jay-jay... Any ideas on the top ten? Feel free to share them in the comments section.
WTF? Somebody please tell me, when did Ms Jodie - I was on an MTV reality show looking for a hubbie only nanonseconds ago - go fauxmosexual? I really did a double take. Was it only a few months ago that this chick was walking around in less than nothing with a male escort on her arm?
Well, dearies, it would seem that La Marsh, who is known largely for her even larger assets which she bares as much as possible on any occasion, has taken to dating her celebrity scissorhands, Nina. The new couple has known one another for more than 12 years. Apparently, everything snipped into place, after Nina gave her a shorter bob.
Thinking of my own hairdresser: don't you be trying any voodoo on me now next time I come in for a dry chop!
News comes flying from across the pond that Martina Navratilova is participating in the UK version of 'I'm a celebrity... get me out of here!', for which filming is about to start somewhere in an Australian jungle.
Promo pic for the show, see left: you can tell that she is just so looking forward to this bucket of fun. Imagine being stuck in the jungle with a bunch of bimbettes, George Takei, Robert Kilroy-Smith and Esther Rantzen. Wonder if she'll impose her Smartina regimen on the other participants. Boot camp boss Martina... with Lt Sulu in tow.
I'll admit that the idea does turn me on just a little bit.
Martina has reportedly been paid GBP 30,000 to join the show and has already said that she will have her two cents' to share with the UK audience on Prop H8.
I sense me a bit of Crocodile Dundee in the works. Keep your eyes peeled on boobtube in the next few weeks.
There's been much to do about Madonna's 50-year old butt in a leotard, but here is Grace Jones last week on Later with Jools Holland at 60.
I think the images pretty much speak for themselves. We should all be so lucky. Work that booty, lady!
The kind people at Showtime have aired a trailer on their website featuring the L-Word damsels. Well, somebody in the lighting department must have been a teensy weensy bit peeved, because that lighting is downright unfriendly. Everyone looks like they could do with a heavy dose of filler, and some free Botox thrown in for free.
Not that I dispute the fact that these women should have wrinkles; au contraire, but let's face it, they have spent five seasons feeding us a glorious image only to kill it in one fell swoop. The general atmosphere of the clip was delectable, but the lighting person should be ambushed.
with some slowmo thrown in for extra effect!
Well, next year proves to be an interesting year movie-wise. First the re-male of Otto e Mezzo and now this is followed by the announcement that Charlize Theron returns to the screen once more as a woman loving another woman, with a twist that is.
'The Danish Girl', directed by Anand Tucker tells the rather interesting tale of the first transsexual, Danish artist Einar Wegener. It would seem their marriage veered off kilter after Einer, to be played by Nicole Kidman, stood in for a female model that Greta Wegener (played by Theron) was set to paint. Once the art world discovered their art, Greta encouraged her husband to continue adopting female guise (I'm having visions of Sex and the City here, remember Charlotte and the sock?). But the game took a more serious turn once Einer discovered his inner femme, which eventually led to the landmark transsexual operation of 1931!
Hmmm, my two cents' worth: now that Cate Blanchett played Bob Dylan, everybody's queuing to play a man. Of course, the twist is quite interesting: a woman that plays a man that plays a woman... I'm expecting Julie Andrews in Victor Victoria garb next.
And the contrast between Theron and Kidman couldn't be greater: the warmth of real gold (Theron) compared with fool's gold (Kidman). But then she's never really been my favourite actress.
We'll keep our eyes peeled and hopefully they can make an interesting and realistic movie. I'm still having nightmares about Max in the L Word...
She walks through the narrow street, her heels navigating the cobble stones with some difficulty. The yellow glow of the street lights is softened by the evening fog, which had snaked its way into the city from the river. She feels the cold wind up her skirt, and shivers inadvertently, as she is wearing no panties. Her garter belt hugs her hips snugly and her nipples strain against the material of her bra.
She looks at her watch and realises she is, as usual, late. It has always been her prerogative in life. She walks on, faster now, towards the arch, leading into the oldest district of the city. Suddenly, a hand shoots out from the darkness, grabs her arm, and reels her in.
She looks into her blue eyes, as she feels her mouth covering hers with urgent kisses, her warm tongue penetrating her lips. She is thrust against the old brick wall, her lover's mouth hungrily at her neck, sliding down, as she hurriedly undoes her blouse. She rests her hand on her blond long hair and arches her back as her lover releases her breasts from the cups of her black lace bra. The autumn chill caresses her nipples, and she gasps as her lover's tongue sweeps across her right nipple, flicking it insistently. She is aroused, by the cold, by the silence and the darkness surrounding them, the way the bricks chafe her back, the warmth of her lover's body pressing against her, the heat of their love. She starts to moan as her lover's mouth tugs slightly on her nipples, sucking and nibbling on them playfully.
Her lover's head comes up again and they kiss hungrily, knowing that they need to move fast now, in case of passers-by.
Her lover sweeps up her right leg, wrapping it around her hip; her lover's free then hand travels up the wrap skirt, up her thigh, her excitement evident in her every move.
Her lover's fingers spread her engorged pussy, and two fingers push roughly inside, as she gasps. She grinds her hips towards them and back into the wall, pumping faster down onto her hand, moaning hungrily, while enjoying her kisses.
She is about to come, when her lover removes her hand, and kneels down in front of her. She grabs her hair, knowing what is about to come next. Her lover plunges her tongue deep into her pussy, probing, licking, lapping. Her lover's tongue slides up and down her clit, her fingers fucking her wetness.
By now she is ready to explode, and she comes, the intenseness throbbing throughout her body, exhilarating her senses.
The city's silence is broken by her long gasp.
which is why this blog was created.
Its content will be restricted to womanhood, bringing an ode to women the way I like them, the way I see them, the way I perceive them.
Expect the odd erotica here and there, entertainment news on women, aspects of my life as a woman who loves a woman, and more.
I am Elena, and I prefer women.
Bring on 2009, I say. Rob Marshall is remaking Fellini's Otto e mezzo (why fix it if it ain't broke?) as a multi-star vehicle, headed by the ever interesting Daniel Day-Lewis. But, who cares about all that, check out the cast of de-lovelies that has been assembled as his lady entourage instead.
Of course, the showstopper for me has to be Sophia (I owe it all to pasta) Loren. I've always had a penchant for this Napolitana, from my early childhood. Judi Dench brings some silver foxiness and brains to the cocktail, and Penelope Cruz: can you say serious eye candy factor?
I'm not too fond of Nicole Kidman myself (but my lover thinks she's fierce), and was a bit surprised to see that she of the lovely lady lumps is now carving out an acting career for herself. The other damsels are Marion "Edith" Cotillard and Kate Hudson, who I find insanely boring. Her mother did zany better.
A gentle reminder that the original, filmed in 1963, featured Claudia Cardinale (cue some panting on my behalf) and Anouk Aimée (drool).
Re-reading this post, I am slightly bemused. Usually I reserve all this enthusiasm for redheads. What is the matter with me?
Here is a little clip from Otto e mezzo. Isn't Italian sexy? Mi piace moltissimo.
As the Interweb buzzes away about the ouster of Erica Hahn, aka Brooke Smith, from Grey's Anatomy, I thought it would be good to remind ourselves of the brief lesbian affair that has been developing in front of our eyes...
Unfortunately, the powers that be decided that the chemistry was lacking - or was it the pressure from the same Mormon idiot killjoys, who rained on the gay parade in California?
We can only hope, as the L Word finally draws to a close and there is chatter about a spin-off with Leisha Hailey and even a movie, that another TV channel is brave enough to step up to the plate and acknowledge the fact of a whole gay demographic interested in seeing their own lives represented on screen.