flyingmonkey
Virgin
- flyingmonkey was last seen:
- Gender:
- -
- Birthday:
- -
- Location:
- -
- Homepage:
- -
- When I'm not writing erotica I like to
- -
- When I'm not reading erotica I like to read
- -
- My favorite word for "penis" is
- -
- My favorite word for "vagina" is
- -
- I write erotica because
- -
- In conclusion, I am
- -
-
11. Week 8: Muse in Satin by flyingmonkey
Chapter 4 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
Georgia was satin now—emerald, slit-thigh, the kind of dress that made waiters forget the specials. Lanie’s rubies glinted dully under the restaurant’s chandelier, their usual venom muted. \*Like a snake fasting\*, she thought, swirling merlot as the poet traced her palm lines wi...
- 0 Likes
- 54 Views
-
10. Company’s Coming by flyingmonkey
Chapter 3 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
The moth in the champagne flute twitched its final waltz. George leaned against the fridge, his knuckles white around a bourbon bottle. “Evelyn’s due at seven,” she said. “Play human, kitten. No growling. No”—she flicked the ruby charm—“accidents.” He bared teeth sharp from las...
- 0 Likes
- 116 Views
-
9. Week After Week by flyingmonkey
Chapter 2 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
**Week Five: Silk Chemise Brokered Between Thighs** Georgia was silk now—slippery, crotchless, the hem pooling like a widow’s tears. The chemise clung to Lanie’s hips, its lace straining where the rose-gold keepsake pierced her flesh. From just the right angle, one could see the...
- 0 Likes
- 136 Views
-
8. The Days Not Friday by flyingmonkey
Chapter 5 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
Lanie’s cruelty lived in the 'almosts' now. A teacup left just beyond George’s reach as he sat depressed, her hips swaying as she stretched to retrieve it. The rubies glinted, mocking. “Oops,” she’d purr, bending so the piercing grazed the armrest where he sat. Her voice had she...
- 0 Likes
- 74 Views
-
7. Three more weeks by flyingmonkey
Chapter 4 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
**Week Three: Velvet Vows at the Devil’s Dive** Georgia was velvet now—crimson, crotchless, backless, just less. Like the keyhole cutout over Lanie’s mons framing her rose-gold “lipstick charm” like a relic in a museum heist. The dive bar’s neon hummed Miller Lite in corpse-blue...
- 0 Likes
- 96 Views
-
6. Repurposing the Rags by flyingmonkey
Chapter 3 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
Lanie spread her thighs on the velvet fainting couch, a prop from their Bridgerton-themed disaster. The clit piercing glinted, rose gold catching the lamplight. George's dick, miniaturised in metal and gem-studded, swung like a pendulum over a wet pit. "Terms," she said, flickin...
- 0 Likes
- 126 Views
-
5. Ruining a Perfectly Good Outfit by flyingmonkey
Chapter 2 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
Light stabbed through the curtains—needle-thin and relentless. George surfaced painfully from oblivion, feeling like a shattered vase hastily glued and missing parts. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like a hanging corpse. Lanie lay curled beside him in a comma of smear...
- 0 Likes
- 170 Views
-
2. Dressed for the Ball by flyingmonkey
Chapter 2 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
The Sorcery Society Ball hummed with cursed champagne and borrowed magic. Lanie’s bare thighs whispered against satin as she crossed the ballroom. No bra. No panties. Just George. The gown clung like a jealous lover, seams thrumming where her pulse flared. \*You're dripping. On...
- 0 Likes
- 244 Views
-
4. A Stich of Regret by flyingmonkey
Chapter 4 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
The ballroom's chandelier hung off the ceiling like ugly celestial tears. Casting its fractured scattering of light over Lanie's cum-tainted bodice. Evelyn snorted. "Witches weren’t meant for monogamy, especially not with non-magicals. How did you even stomach bedding the enemy?...
- 0 Likes
- 129 Views
-
3. A Seam Unravelling by flyingmonkey
Chapter 3 in The Seamstress and Her Moth
The bourbon tasted like gasoline and bad decisions. Lanie leaned against the bar, the gown’s slit creeping higher as Jamie refilled her glass. His hands shook—always the hands—spilling whisky over his novice cufflinks. \*Pathetic. You’ve sunk to cradle-robbing, Lanie?\* She sw...
- 0 Likes
- 182 Views
