Twenty-two-year-old Aussie Violinist, Muriel Lennox has it all: awards for violin performances that continued after her prodigy years, psychic ability, beauty, intelligence and waves of coiffured red hair, and a Dad sitting on the Sacramento Orchestra waiting to get her hired as she sails from Australia to America on The Valiant. But when the Captain of the Valiant, Captain Burriss, decides Muriel talents lay in providing sexual pleasure for him and his crew, fellow a pugilist ex-Christian preacher missionary, Glen Norman, also traveling aboard The Valiant, falls back into the fold and defends and protects Muriel from certain ravishment. Suspenseful, romantic, thriller adventure awash in the sweep of 19th Century history, morals, spiritual quests for truth, travel and honor, faith and reason, and their will to thrive and survive in Abandoned on Makta Island. A Mega-Novel over 100k, like none other, taking readers to the border of faith and the limits of spirituality, as the woman with agency and the power of her will shape reality across two different cultures into the far future in the Abandoned on Makta Island Series.
The Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action.
Gorgeous blonde Lydia Elish turned forty and refused to accept her good sex days stayed behind her. Rich from the money from running a vacation cruise travel agency, she owned a fancy European car, was building a full-scale swimming pool in her back yard, and felt horny as a heterosexual teenager. But older and younger white men wanted to ogle her body parts, and no more. Lydia’s brains, sales talents and money scared them off. Lydia needed some sex-loving real bad, so she altered her course and focused on her hottest fantasy fucking an African American man. The gods of love or lust answered her longings when a young African American college graduate Troy Sullivan showed up to interview for the available travel assistant job. Contemporary romance, intellectual interracial erotica romp adventures you’ll never forget, exploring everything from the ports of sexual love, The Hagakure, Tantra sex, friendship to love to lust to suspense with a big mystery challenged Lydia must overcome assuring her spiritual quests for sexual truth, travel and honor, faith and insight into the emotional born-two-hole male and born-three-hole female divergent heterosexual energies blend in this 107k Mega-Novel Her Erotic Billionaire’s Cruise sailing vacation in the Caribbean. The Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action.
Born-Three-Hole Woman Sophie Vavrova, twenty-two-year old daughter of Czech parent, has made it into Harvard Law School on a scholarship.She worked hard and is determined to be a social justice lawyer helping women and girls.And Harvard is the right place for a smart critical-thinking born-three-hole woman like Sophie.Conquering the Socratic Method challenges her.Furthermore, it opens her eyes wider into the hallowed halls of learning Harvard.Her boyfriend, also striving to be a lawyer, is in love with Sophie.But two people existing in the same space doesn’t mean they are existing in the same environment as one another.Things happen one day and Sophie critically rethinks everything.A contemporary romantic, intellectual Harvard love story about space and environments, heterosexual love, critical-thinking and the ability to ask truly big questions.How women and men see beauty and affection come to an explosive suspense ending as friendship turns to love, love to lust, lust to critically thinking about history, women’s rights, and embedded institutional traditions all women face in their spiritual quests for educational truth and insight into the emotional born-two-hole male and born-three-hole female divergent heterosexual perspectives blend in this 118 page Novella: Three Lies and Love: A Romantic Novella’s look a critical thinking, love and feminism. The Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action. Productive, entertaining, intelligent 22nd Century feminist fiction empowering born-three-hole women and girls written by Cupideros.
#femaleleadership #history #lawschoolhistory #femalespace #femalemalerelationships #femaleempowerment#romanticsuspense #contemporaryromancenovel#Harvard #feministorgasm #IvyLeagueschools #sexualintercourse #faith #criticalthinking #loveandrelationships #howtohaveanorgasms #spiritual #loveasaspiritualact #eroticaromance#historicalromance#YAromance#cupiderosbooks.com #bookreadersandauthors#heterosexualwomen #romancenovels#women’sstudieslovestory #productiveromancenovel #delicious#readthisbook#ireadforfun #feminisminsociety #education#bookworm#femalecollegestudent #radicalfeminist #feminist #women’smovement #diy#weddinginvitations #loveact #sexact #women’sstudiesromance #femalesinHarvard #lawschool #malefemalerelations
© Cupideros, Saturday, 04.11.09
(A poem written after viewing a beautiful a beautiful Russian Female Model on Deviantart.com)
The line of poetry is lift and wings
She's vine and branch to life's tree.
She's sign and olive to earthly queens.
The line of poetry how true she sings.
The line of poetry built by words.
Those feathery cords and shallow fords
Enable ideas and views to wallow
On hills and in valleys to shout the truth.
The line of poetry is hawk and dove.
Unable to pine in heaven above
It pulls us down to gawk and spiral
Helix and mind and bind our feet
Until we cry, cry for spiritual relief.
The line of poetry those dancing dames
All lined up, locked arm to arm
Kicking legs up, in the nightclub air
Pitching thrashing words with flair.
We cannot forget a beautiful line
Of shapely words naughty and divine.
We know not how our true dreams
Come into being. Tossed on seams
Mental threads woven by Goddesses
And Gods, but we love their silk and milk--
Their sweet smooth lines of poetry.
What we know is inspiration, intuition,
Imagination, content, rhythm and form
Bring about heavenly expressive cloth
Through the words and lines of poetry.
Ta TUM, Ta TUM, TUM Ta Ta
Ta TUM, Ta TUM, TUM Ta Ta
TUM Ta, Ta TUM, TUM Ta TUM
Ta TUM Ta, TUM TUM, Ta Ta
Make a few lines of poetry.
O you words first play albatross.
How dare you keep me at a lost?
When I seek to soar and fly aloft,
On the wing-filled lines of poetry.
And you castled walls on said hill
What have I about you to now spill?
But King and Rook must pass one
Another and words become supreme
Through the simple lines of poetry....
There once lived a Queen whose daughter studied religion and philosophy day and night from the age of three who came to the conclusion ‘life had no meaning.’ The nineteen year old Princess announced to her mother, at the age of twenty she'd take her own life because that's enough meaningless living. The horrified Queen tried to persuade her daughter to become an agnostic; Or that being unsuitable, become an atheist. The daughter refused. The sadden Queen recalled the curious days of her daughter’s youth when she responded to religious and philosophical matters interesting to her by saying "Is that so?" Where upon, the Queen would tell her more about the religions and philosophies known of times before and of their day.
So the Queen sent an announcement, "If anyone can make her daughter say, "Is that so?" about a religious or philosophical matter, they would get half the kingdom. If a man, they'd get to marry the Princess as well.
Well as you can imagine, from around the world many religious teachers, monks, and university professors and philosophers tried their hand at the matter, but the daughter only said either, "That's hideous, or outrageous, babble prattle, simple minded, nonsense or gobbledygook" or other words to that effect. So one day a family of two brothers and their younger sister, Elaine, thought they'd try their hand at the matter....
Earth luck, Man luck and
Heaven luck is all you need.
And Nothingness Luck?
Love is the best luck.
Love makes all bow before you.
Nothingness is love.
Women love in all
Rooms of the house. Men love in
The bedroom only.
Is like a woman’s love style.
Labor of love Men’s.
Nothingness is space.
Women’s sacred spaces teach them
Men are made they say.
Women are born they say, but
Simple things are best.
The earth was made from
The elements and Ten Thousand.
Nothingness just born.
To mimic Nothing
Is hard without proper tools.
Women’s space knows this....
Anna was always a curious young girl and when the Amazing Mesmerizing Circus comes to her town once a year, this year, she decides to do something different.Anna sneaks backstage, behind the curtains of the Amazing Mesmerizing Circus to find out the how-to mystery of the circus performers; how they actually do their magic tricks.However, Anna learns that life is more amazing than she ever anticipated as each of the performer lets her in on a secret.Life is more of an adventure than she can ever know. Now Anna wants to gain an amazing talent of her own.A great e-book for born-three-hole girl tweens, teens and even adults who want to discover life’ true purpose and the journey to the infinite end of existence.Anna and the Amazing Mesmerizing Circus Trilogy is a tale for all, boys and girls.The Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action via prose.Productive, entertaining, intelligent 22nd-Century feminist fiction empowering born-three-hole women and girls written by Cupideros.
#femaleleadership #curiousity #circus #femalespace #femalemalerelationships #femaleempowerment#romanticsuspense #clowns#changingfaces #mystery #criticalthinking #loveandspirituality #howtosucceedinlife #spiritual #loveasaspiritualact #tweens and magic #YAmysterystory#cupiderosbooks.com #bookreadersandauthors#heterosexualwomen #childrenandGod#meditation #women’sstudiesmysterystory #productivechildrenstrilogy #delicious#readthisbook#ireadforfun #feminisminsociety #education#bookworm#femalecollegestudent #radicalfeminist #feminist #womenandmagic #women’smovement #diy#carousels #friendship #womenadventure #women’sstudiesromance
SEX CORP, INTERNATIONAL
60 CHROME PLAZAS
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
Afternoon, Saturday, June 14, 2015
Joy Held on tight as the silver chrome mechanical man plunged inside her hot sweaty fuckbox again and fifteen in-and-out cycles. She sighed in relief. Thadd McDermitt, his official name, but better known as Chrome by the women subjects, worked his ass cheeks to churning inside Joy's joy. Chrome was all business now. Joy shuttered her blue-flecked with gold eyes closed as another orgasm threatened to roll over her entire being. 'This was it, this was it, this was it, the big multiple orgasms, they always happen when he holds me close, and doesn't withdraw his lovely smooth mechanical seven-inch fuck tool.'
Joy's golden-blonde long hair splayed over the pillow in the Sex Corp International lab built like a hotel room with several rooms. "That's it, Chrome," she cooed. Joy hoped Thadd wasn't starring with his cow blue eyes like the last ten times they fucked. That unnerved her. Joy reached back and hugged Chrome's neck close to her body. For a few times, six in fact, she ignored his green-cow eyes data collection facts. Libby insisted he needed this data to understand better how to make Joy come in a multiorgasmic orgasm. To Chrome's credit, he did have an attractive, innocent-round face.
Even as Chrome orgasmed, he stayed hard. These little preorgasms as Libby called them, served to keep the woman subjects lubricated. So Chrome did not worry. He kept his eyes fixated on her form, reading in all the sexual cues. Thadd, Chrome, didn't want to ignore any data facts. Data facts helped him to do his job. His purpose, to make the women come, in this he proved his validity to Libby Isben his creator.
"You like it close and personal. I do, too. You smell so good, Joy. Ravissant Belle, affascinate Bella, Arrebatadora Hermosa." For a second, Thadd, saw Joy's eyes, her pupils in particular dilate, go big as the moon. She's enjoying my work, my fucking. He watched her forehead puckering in sexual tension. One of the sure signs Chrome recognized in Joy.
Capable of recording even the minutest or fleeting skin temperature or organic occurrences and watching a woman's individual reactions, Chrome built-up an impressive list of cues to measure his performance by. Where a human male failed to see the sexual cues, and a human failed to remember the cues when going from woman to woman, and the tendency of human males to categorize women into one group, one set of reactions, Chrome's data banks kept each woman separate and unique as she was. This was Chrome's major advantage over human males. Most human males thought it was Chrome's ability to keep up longer, than a human or even a male dog. But simply memory won the day for Thadd McDermit.
Fearing the multiple orgasms threatening to overwhelm her but welcoming it all the same and being totally disappointed if it did not happen, Speech Pathologist, Joy Held held onto Thadd. Fluent in French and Spanish, Joy understood most of Thadd words, except the Italian ones. Probably meant something similar, ravishing woman. Thadd was mechanical after all. He repeated, patterns, and only when he decided to, serenade her in Chinese, Hawaiian, or some almost dead but reviving Native American languages did Thadd's allusions to her desirability escape her. Five-feet, nine-inch Joy forced her legs to lock higher on his silvery hips.
Slim male hips any girl admired as they contrasted against the sexual polarity of her slightly flared hips in her rectangular woman frame. His masculine name Thadd McDermitt worked its magic on her psychology. It didn't matter he was a machine, a woman designed him. "I'm coming! I'm coming multiple times! Oh, Thadd! Say those lovely romantic words to me again."
Thadd shifted his hips higher, making sure his padded pubic bone massaged Joy's clit. "Vrwirrend, Eblouissant, Splendente, Desumbrante."
"Oh, wow! German is such a naughty language. Everything sounds like fuck cursing, mmmmmm."
Chrome knew the peak peaked in her sexual curve. She was a thin woman, one of those built like supermodels. He wanted to lift her legs up high over his shoulders, but this never made the thin-type women come. Joy's body started trembling deep inside her womb, and he and his steel dick noticed it before Joy noticed it. He was on the ground floor of her orgasms, buried between her long-extended clit muscles running under her major lips and his soft rubber-like balls.
Thadd rocked his hips to the four corners of the compass. Several times, he curved the corners, but always, always, he returned to the most erotic design in the universe, the circle. Libby Isben designed him with a round face and green eyes and white hair. He was attractive thirty-five-year-old Libby told him. And what Libby, his designer told him, was universally true. Chrome didn't know what body Libby got her inspiration from, but his six-pack abs and slightly bulging chest drew a gasps from the women sex subjects at Sex Corp International. He nibbled on Joy's neck. He rubbed his hands up-and-down her sides; Joy loved him when he did that, especially after she started to come.
Joy's fought off the impending multiorgasms. She often fainted afterward from the sheer joy of it all. This was what she always wanted. Now that Sex Corp International moved away from machines looking like fucking machines to humanoid-fucking machines, Joy became their most loyal customer. Whenever she wanted, she volunteered to test the next sexual technique Thadd learned. And even though it wasn't always obvious what she helped Sex Corp International perfect, every experience led to her paradise in the center of her lower core--her cunt, clit, and vulva.
"Fuck harder, press harder. Stay close! Auuuuuggguuuuuuu you're so good."
Thadd had no doubts of quitting. He never pulled out before his woman came. It was unmanly; a cowardly act and his programming specifically went against coward behavior. No, Thadd kept his sex spoon buried in the sex bowl of Joy Held. He stirred up every sexual dormant nerve in her twenty-nine-year-old body. He made sure not one sexual nerve went untouched. Even his feet softly caressed, Joy's bottom feet. Splendid, as a musical conductor, Chrome tuned Joy's body to begin buckling. She raised her hips in a high arch. She lifted his mechanical hips and Thadd allowed this a little. Her sexy plump-pink lips dropped open; his ears heard her sigh as she pressed his neck and head beside her own. 'I must remember to close my eyes after the sixth time, Thadd reminded himself. I acquired all the sexual cues for the woman I needed by the sixth fuck.'
Joy waited and waited. She raised both her legs around Thadd's silvery mechanical hips. Having a whole humanoid frame to copulate against shattered Joy's doubts about robot sex. This trend was continuing to grow and no doubt will become a fad--for woman anyway. And he was programmed not to want sexual violence, which meant no matter how excited or heated for her erotic human body, Thadd became, he'd never harm her. She rubbed her breasts against the smooth chrome form, and it felt much as if sweeping against silk. His body temperature matched hers. So many senses tingled inside of Joy.
© Copyright Monday, April 09, 2012 10:27 AM by Cupideros
The Story of Abirien and Ybiras
Kalini builds a Dialoguer Computer (DiaC) that ends up saving Earth population from the invading peaceful Embedians.
EYE CATCHING BLUB:
Kalini responded saying Ybiras is a dialoguer. It's important not to talk when talking isn't necessary and to talk when talking is essential. She had turned to Ybiras and smiled as if he was a pet dog, an obedient pet dog. But still the important people and more importantly those under them, their underlings, wanted proof. They wanted to be able to tell those down the chain of command, Earth's Total-Defense Computer (ETDC) can protect them from an intruder on Earth or from outside Earth.
The Story of Abirien and Ybiras
© Copyright Monday, April 09, 2012 10:27 AM by Cupideros
"Our planet is completely safe, now that," Kalini pressed the button on the small gray rectangular box, twelve inches long, two inches high and four inches wide sitting in the center of the luxurious world conference room on International Relations of the Earth Countries," now that Ybiras is on-line. Kalini and twenty other important world scientist, politicians, generals, philosophers and anthropologist watched. Ybiras' pink, blue, green and yellow lights dashed back and forth over the length sides, before finally stopping as the blue smart screen on top in the rectangular center lit up.
Kalini held out her open hand pointing, "Ladies and gentlemen, meet Ybiras!" The small audience clapped enthusiastically. Their faces ran the gamut from objective neutrality, to skepticism, to slight concern and finally showed the arrogant, confident face of General Head of World Forces, Neville Scanlon.
Kalini, a female, Indian scientist built Ybiras under budget. She gave him a male personality, but inserted without anyone's knowledge one quirk, a female desire to negotiate or dialogue instead of make war. Kalini's thick Indian accent sounded like the ringing of a tiny cymbal at the end of her sentences. "Ybiras is a (DiaC), a Dialoguer Computer. He follows in that long tradition of computer preferring dialogue and negotiations over war and physical actions."
General Neville Scanlon, a British military scientist, balled up his fist and coughed into it, "Although Ybiras is--fully equipped with all capabilities to make war on a global scale."
Kalini quickly added, "Absolutely, Ybiras has all the programming of a war or direct action AI computer, as a subroutine."
Ybiras listened quietly. His lights flashed the length of his rectangular shape. His size boggled the average human mind. No bigger than a netbook, he possessed supercomputer computational capabilities. He could process data faster than ten billion Tegahertz per second. His oblong shape reminded one of a toolbox. The metallic design intentional to fool any would-be-thief into thinking Ybiras was an electrician's toolbox. Unauthorized touches generated enough electric shock equivalents to ten lightning strikes and released an invisible chlorine gas within the environment. He sat inside the International Conference room on a mahogany conference table all by himself. He considered those twenty-one matching fine-polished chairs, the seats of his subjects, when the time was right.
The African Professor-Philosopher Chukwuemeka asked, "How much can we learn about his security features?" He sat as Chair of World Philosophy at the World University based in Congo Africa....
CUPIDEROS' TRIUMVIRATE AND PHILOSOPHY
© Cupideros, Friday, March 07, 2008
A Romantic-Comedy Play in Three Acts
The camera gives now a wide shot view and we see a simply dress Katja Gorjus Body in a nice black pants suit, alone sitting before a long shiny wooden table. One empty chair flanks her on both sides. She's a good looking woman, about 5'8" about 120 lbs with blonde hair just below her shoulders in loose professional cut. She holds in her court hand a paper, reads it for a second and pulls a strand of her blond hair behind her right ear. She looks her age and makes quick actions and has a bit of a temper.
(Bangs the gavel three times. He has a softer but more authoritative voice than the other two parts of himself)
This court docket hearing 312 to decide if Katja Gorjus is marriageable material now comes to order!
(He has a loud sure voice)
How soon can the usufruct - legal right to use or enjoy profits of another's property be applied. Cupideros Mind?
(adjusts his black robe collar)
Do I need to describe again unjust enrichment - doctrine that prevents profit at another's expense?
(looks up at Cupideros Soul)
If you saw what I see in French Super Model, Katja Gorjus, you have no evidence to support that statement.
(He has a steady meditative voice. He flips through papers and orders them into three stacks on his desk)
Cupideros Body do you always think of such earthly things? Can't you see, Little Miss Katja Anthropologist is a tad nervous?
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
I am not some tangible property to be taken as you see fit Cupideros Body. I am a mind also.
Does that mean I get her mind too?
In your Horn Book you'll notice: de facto - Latin. lit. actual, in reality; how matters are by custom, though not required by law to be thus.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
(twist a ring on her marriage finger)
Even if you have my body and by custom my mind, I am not required to give or share my mind with you. I can just lay there and let you have sex.
She -- she can't do that! If we decide to marry her, I want her entire passion to flow through her body.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
(raises her hands in two quote signs in the air)
Can I have less Mars and more Venus? How about some "poetry please"? Or is that too much for a modern pretty damsel to asks?
Don't worry Katja, I'm a poet. What do you want: romantic poems, a song perhaps, or something deep and passionate like an epic poem where the hero goes away for a long, long time, endured many trials, and comes back chastened and humble and ready for marriage?
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
(Katja sighs and twists the left side of her hair)
You're very interesting Cupideros Mind.
But I don't like being objectified like a piece of flesh.
Would you like to be represented by your Triumvirate?
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
You mean like you three!
As an anthropologist, atheist, feminist and psychologist, I can defend myself. I am mind and body.
Good enough for me, guys. She's perfectly suitable!
There are higher consideration of Katja's mating material to be decided Cupideros Body.
Self-awarness is indispensable when dealing with such weighty matters as marriage. You might live over 40 years with the same woman.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
I firmly trust in the fragility of man's capability to navigate our world and I have complete faith in the court's due process of divorce, if I make a mistake.
Well the courtesy - rules of appropriate conduct in legal proceedings; favors and allowances granted by one lawyer to another still stands should you change your mind.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
Like Ayn Rand and Nietzsche. I don't believe in a Goddess/God or any supreme being. That's just as silly as saying the world was created by an alien. I am a woman of descent and I think. I get up in the morning take my bath, put on my touch of makeup, and I eat a little and go to my lab. I did edit a law review once.
I like her more and more!
She can read to me while she's naked.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
That's all he thinks about is sex.
Each part of ourselves governs his own realm with his own facility. Although I am not normally seen by others, except in these proceedings, Miss Katja, I am the head of the Cupideros Triumvirate. What I decides overrules the other two as Cupideros Mind overrules the body. And while I, Cupideros Soul, may seem like imagination and work like imagination, I am very real--the most real of our three.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
Imagination is for children and I certainly don't have a soul. Although I have noticed you're short twelve jurors.
When you say twelve jurors, you're really saying thirty-six jurors. Can you imagine that in this special court room, Katja Gorjus Body?
Months...Months for a consensus decision!
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
I see your point. Can I have Cutie Pie Roark, my girlfriend, serve as talesman - bystander summoned as juror when too few are called?
(frantically waving no, no. to Cupideros Soul, and whispers)
That's Docket 314, tomorrow at noon.
Katja Gorjus Mind could request it, but since she is not present, the requests is denied. As to the jurors, you have thousands of viewers who shall judge the case as they see fit. But back to more substantial matters. You have read Spinoza, I see here in your philosophical cross-studies connected to your anthropology degree.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
(Thinks back, hard.)
I do recall reading the excommunicated Jew. How terrible. Cut off from society like that. Man was not meant to live alone.
You said it baby! Let's get it on!
Makes a few upper body dance moves.
Spinoza said each part of a woman or man governs and sees life's events differently. The body sees the sun and says, 'The sun is 200 yards from my body; so it won't burn me and I am satisfied.' The mind says, 'No My Body, the sun is 10 times the diameter of the earth away from the sun. Of course that is abstract to you, My Body, but take my word for it--on faith.'
As long as I'm warmed by the sun and the plants grow and I get food and drink what do I care how many dimes away... what did you say it was...
....not dimes! Ten times the diameter of the earth away from the sun. Spinoza then went on to say something quite fanciful and not good science. I can't support such views so; I'll let Cupideros Soul or Imagination handle it.
Spinoza was quite reasonable and you know his views established the fields of biology and that dubious field of psychology wherein they hold man is a machine, a body, a brain, a simple thing.
KATJA GORJUS BODY:
Hey! I'm a psychologist.
I'm willing to forget that......
Over notches of wet flesh
They discussed the physics of emptiness:
The impressions love makes on the skin.
Their needs to burn a hole in their desire
For one another’s interspace.
They discussed the chasm of gender.
Their vital kinetic energies created by
Rifts and gulfs and depths attracting
Them like electrons and protons.
They pondered vacuumed sensations.
He emphasized the refuge from life.
She concentrated on consumed complex folds.
His rants symbolized passages and journeys.
Her soliloquies focused on hollows unfilled.
As they breached the final loopholes in
And Openings keeping them apart
But now joining them together—
Like some cosmic link in an electric evolutionary
Chain—they came to an organic conclusion.
Nothing beats giving the ol heave ho to
Sip--a little O Raven Lady--
The keepsake brew inside
All human hearts fed step-by-step
By bewitching brides
Of work, chance and fate combined
Fly--no more to mortuary
Medieval hills and crags and vines
Deep in our primal minds!
Ancient Lady--who rides the storms
And shaking chandelier
Held by blackest night we fear--.
Come! Consume us while we leer!
My simple trip to see a woman
Became a shaman’s expedition,
That grew into an oarsman’s odyssey
As sirens blinded and made me see--
She is not her female body.
She is calm deep, black water
And her beautiful form surface ripples.
All who glimpse her true self,
In all her total majesty,
Grasp the beyondness,
Grasp the pilgrimage of life....
Mega-Collection of shorter and longer prose perfect for the poetry and prose reader seeking enlightenment, entertainment, production fiction.This volume covers sweet romance, philosophy, critical thinking, Abyssarianism, all the while uplifting the spirit of women and girls beyond the realm of procreation and sex.Why Poetry Matter? 2014 Hayden’s magic School for Girls, Excerpts from Cupideros Feminist Chronical 7 from How to Fly a Marshmallow Kite?Nine Abyssarian Girs and Diluting Fear a will entertain, astound and awaken the reader from the daily mishmash of celebrity worship. Life is more than a random mistake.This volume mixture of prose and poetry is for the spiritual New-Age seeker, the 60s hippie, or feminist heterosexual born-three-hole women reader looking for something meaningfully different and lasting. How women and men see Life’s Greatest Gift, and truly living one’s life in the now moment of time’s space and environments drive heterosexual women and heterosexual men characters’ divergent perspectives in 216 page Mega-Collection of Prose and Poetry: He Trusts Me and Other Poems and Stories. The Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action via poetry and prose.Productive, entertaining, intelligent 22nd-Century feminist fiction empowering born-three-hole women and girls written by Cupideros.
#femaleleadership #history #whypoetry #femalespace #femalemalerelationships #femaleempowerment #romanticsuspense #marriageandlove #beachandsurf #feministorgasm #criticalthinking #loveandrelationships #howtosucceedinsociety #spiritual #loveasaspiritualact #marriageisforever #historicalromance #YAromance #cupiderosbooks.com #bookreadersandauthors #heterosexualwomen #romancenovels #magic #women’sstudieslovestory #productiveromancenovel #delicious #readthisbook #ireadforfun #feminisminsociety #education #bookworm #femalecollegestudent #radicalfeminist #feminist #womenandlove #women’smovement #diy #weddinginvitations #friendship #womeninlove #women’sstudiesromance #malefemalerelations
© November 14, 2010 by Cupideros
Fourteen-year-old Little Red Riding Hood straightened her black long dress and brushed yellow leaves off her long sleeve white blouse, red mock lace up front bodice and tiny attached apron. Her three-quarter length dark-cherry cape kept her warm during her trip through fall's flying leaves and blowing wind. She pushed her cherry hood off her round head and pulled the bobbin, and the door opened letting in a few flying leaves.
The Wolf struggled to pull the old woman's wrinkled white night cap over his head and said to her, "Come in," as he hid himself under the bedclothes, "Put the angel food cake and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come into bed with me." She is a tall meal and not the scrawny little brat I thought she'd be, he mused.
Little Red Riding Hood white, ashen shocked face spoke volumes. Nervously she said, "Grandmother. Do you believe in Little Green Men with faces like a terrible long chicken egg and no ears, but dark eyelash less eyes and a small mouth?"
"My dear, child, come place the angel food cake and little pot of butter on this stand by the bed." He couldn't wait to eat her up.
Little Red Riding Hood's long black dress swished over the wooden floor and nervously she placed the butter and angel food cake on the stand. "Tremors shook her small delicate hands. Her face appeared like the emotions of a combat fatigued solider. "You must excuse...my messed up hair...Grandmother. I-I know you're a stickler about a girl's hair being the mark of her culture and standing. I'm not trying out a bedhead updo popular with all those city girls-It's-just-I was abducted."
"Sit my child," said the Wolf impatiently. "Tell Grandmother all about it." He patted the bed cover with his one partially exposed hairy paw in the old woman's too-short nightshirt.
Wearily, Little Red Riding Hood sat down. Her weight made the bed sag quite a bit. "I don't know-where to begin-so I'll begin where I met that nasty hairy woodcutter who asked me for some butter-and when I refused-" She paused gathering her strength to remember the horror. "He asked me where I was off to in such a hurry. I-I told him to-your cottage." Her voice trembled. "I think that might have been a-mistake.
"Sometimes," the Wolf smiled wickedly, "You have to lie."
"But that episode was nothing compared to what happened next in the clearing of those tall oaks after the nasty woodcutter scampered away in. I-I saw a bright light. Much like a fire, except it was not hot and it was in the sky--and it was in the oak trees yet it was not the sun-but it blinded me none the less, Grandmother."
The Wolf tried to pull Little Red Riding Hood closer with his paw, but she got up and paced in front of the bed, wringing her hands all the time. "I-I-No-No-I remember appearing next on this white slab, a hard surface like a smooth rock only-I've-I've never seen anything like this. Cool. Clean." She said still pacing. Every now and then, she placed both palms on her red lace mocked bodice. "I think they wanted to have sex with me or-or-worse eat me." She rushed her words, "The very tall one, for Little Green Men anyway, said, no we only eat wolves and I understand plenty exist in this forest."
The Wolf smile at the sex part, quickly he frowned at the eat wolves part. "Wolves. Eat wolves!"
Still pacing, Little Red Riding Hood paused for a second and looked at her Grandmother. "I can remember the feeling of peace that came over me when I realized you'd be safe from them-they apparently, she started pacing again. "They don't like to make Grandmother's pregnant. I-I heard strange formulas. E=Mc2 and one chubby Green Man said if I was a smart girl with my young body I could generate 8 trillion joules."
"Joules. Do these kill wolves?"...
Born-Three-Hole Woman Emma Hancock, twenty-something successful model photographer, running her own agency has it all, condo, fancy car and life should be easy.Finding and meeting handsome men is easy for the photographer beauty and her French Best Girl Friend for Life.But finding the right handsome man who knows how to give her an orgasm during sex is a persistent problem.Emma feels she deserves to come during the ultimate-intimate act between woman and man, not just to fake like she’s had a great time for a man’s ego needs.One day she meets the attractive, ambitious man of her dreams and she has an orgasm during sex, but was an accidental orgasm?Can her new hottie-hunk produce another and another in Emma’s hot twenty-something born-three-hole female body?Contemporary romantic, intellectual erotica with a suspense twist adventure you’ll never forget, exploring the difference between how women like sex and how men like sex; how women can obtain an orgasm every time they participate in the undulating, steamy, delicious aroma love act between a man and a woman; friendship turns to love, love to lust, lust to learning to solve the Big O sexual mystery all women face in their spiritual quests for honest sexual truth and insight into the emotional born-two-hole male and born-three-hole female divergent heterosexual energies blend in this 88 page Novella: Patriarchy Sex: A Contemporary Erotica Romance.Read the Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action.oductive, entertaining, intelligent 22nd Century feminist fiction empowering born-three-hole women and girls written by Cupideros.
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Two born-two-hole bachelor Dukes, in the Regency Era, battle royal in a secret bet to see who can wed the wife chosen by the other. Both dashing Dukes employ their wealth, access to high society, and belong to an exclusive club, for men only, that establishes fair foundation for the conflict.Each thinks the other has an advantage when one of the Regency Dukes decides to even the odds.Neither one wants to give up his bride.Both Dukes want to win the bet.Everything and more about Regency morals and rules, locations and fashions, age and marriage come into play.Which rich Regency Duke will win?Put on your critical-thinking hat because you’ll discover the core of the Regency genre.Prepare for a surprise ending twist like you’ve never seen in this 64 page historical Regency Romance novella.How women and men see beauty and trust, love and honor; history and women’s rights embedded in institutional traditions all women face drive two heterosexual men and their two heterosexual wife characters’ divergent perspectives in Dangerous Regency Romance: A Cupiderosbooks.com novella Regency. The Abyssarian Religious Principles Truth depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Truth; Lies depends upon Lies in action.Productive, entertaining, intelligent 22nd-Century feminist fiction empowering born-three-hole women and girls written by Cupideros.
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Two-year-old eyes are eyes of wonder.
“Oh, my! Such a huge playground of sights, sounds and smells.”
Four-year-old eyes are eyes of impatience.
“So much to do and no way to do it!”
Six-year-old eyes are eyes of wisdom.
“I see how the world works. I understand its quirky rules.”
Ten-year-old eyes are eyes of the old.
“So much they have seen and yet never told.”
Thirteen-year-old eyes are eyes of an adult.
Anxious to live and do such and such.
Sixteen-year-old eyes are eyes of resignation.
“The world is a messed up creation.”
Boys discover their bodies trap them
Into the world of work.
Girls discover their bodies' trap them
By its good looks.
The wise finds a compatible philosophy
Or religious good book/s.
Eighteen-year-old eyes are eyes of freedom.
Only to discover, freedom has a cost—work or school.
Twenty to twenty-four-year-old eyes are eyes of true freedom.
Time for travel, sexual play, risk-taking and experimentation.
Twenty-five to twenty-seven-year-old eyes are eyes of luck.
Some marry or start careers and some from this earth plucked.
Thirty-year-old eyes are eyes of the sage.
“Nothing new under the sun's latest page!”
Thirty-one to thirty-five-year old eyes are eyes of fun.
“Since its all been done just go after your goals.”
These eyes prepare us for the most complex eyes of all…
Forty-year-old eyes, the eyes of great progress.
Some people establish their presence upon the earth.
Fifty-year-old eyes, the eyes of great progress II.
Some start new careers, enter politics, and discover spirituality.
Sixty-year-old eyes are eyes of vacations.
Some retire, some learn they can’t retire.
Seventies eyes are eyes of survival.
“I survived this long in our crazy world!”
But the eyes of great success are the eyes of learning.
Those possessing these eyes find life a mysterious
Joy to behold.
No matter the age set your eyes on learning eyes—
And life will reveal her treasures multifold.