Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Wednesday Whine & Wine with Meg Amor (NSFW) from Coffee and Porn guest appearance. 

Research Purposes Only…

Aloha everyone. Pour yourself a wine and let’s talk sexy men. I always find a wine or three helps 
loosen people’s tongues. And this is possibly why I get onto these wandery subjects in my brain. I 
wonder what…? 

So…

I write m/m stories and menage. I LOVE writing the sex scenes. Getting lost in the exotic imaginings 
and textures… gorgeous. Sites like Coffee and Porn and a few on fb I belong to where everyone is 
open heartedly happy about the gorgeous pics that are posted here make me smile. Like most
people, I save  lots of images for my “research files.”



The biggest smile I got out of having my computer stolen by some “machismo” guys was the look I 
imagined on their faces if they went through my sexy guys folder.

I imagined their gonads inching rapidly up into their intestines as my many pictures were flicked 
through. Okay, so yes, it’s a wee bit of a fantasy. They may have opened it and thought… WTF? 
And rapidly closed it again. Still… fantasies are good when you fancy a spot of revenge.






I’ve also considered getting a boyfriend in the coming year. What will he think of my collection?

It made me wonder what anyone would think going through my computer files. I have them all 
grouped into folders for easy access. Anal sex, Balls, Beautiful black men, Blowjobs, Cartoon Art, 
Cocks, Exotics, Kilties, Kiss and Cuddle, Lingerie, Long hair, Masturbation, Men in Uniform, Teabag, 
and Underpants.




I start to wonder how other people group their sexy men pics. I wonder what types of pics really grab
 them or the type of men that really do it for them?

Which piccies on Coffee and Porn do we flick to each day first to check them out? I always love the
nooner one the best – sexy as hell. Anal sex shots always ramp me up, and piccies of thick cocks
and good balls, WITH pubic hair. Please give me pubic hair!!

 I love my exotics. Men of different ethnicities, brown skin really does it for me and black hair. I don’t
like muscled men. Long hair and earrings really amps me up. Someone like Willy Cartier (one of the
 few men in the world other than Morgan Freeman and Tom Selleck I can tolerate facial hair on.) He 
is mymuse for Danny Lucerno who is introduced in Hawaiian Orchid and will appear in his own story
 Hawaiian Fragrance next year.

Willy Cartier


Or someone like Dayvid Thomas – Hawaiian musician with long black curly hair and earrings, brown
 skin (sheer perfection) nearly make me bite through my lip. Gorgeous! He’s my muse for Kulani 
Mahikoa in Hawaiian Orchid.

Dayvid Thomas


I’m also a huge fan of men with lovely erections in form fitting underpants… my reaction is always… 
Nice Panties!

What’s sexy? What’s not?

Do you like redheads?

Hairy or not - Pubic hair? Facial hair, chest hair, leg hair, arse hair?

Earrings or long hair?

Ink? How much and where?

How about manties? I was surprised at a fb party I was at and put up a manties shot, thinking I’d be 
one of the few people who think they’re sexy and was surprised at how many other people said, Me 
Too!!

What squicks you too? No pubic hair squicks me and some types of kink.

Favorite types of cocks? Long, short, skinny, thick, circumcised, or not?





I’m also a huge fan of balls… all shapes and sizes. I like the dangly ones and the big ones, all of them
really. I don’t know many other people with this love. I think they get overlooked sometimes with men.

Like most of us on here, I love seeing nude men. They’re just gorgeous. And I want to know what your
 personal OMGOD ones are?

I’m a big fan of freckles, long legs, sexy bums and good hands. And killer eyes and good hair. (To
name a few of my favorite things.) LOL.

Other things my brain wanders aimlessly around, thinking about. One of my edit clients was chastising
 herself because she thought she had an “overly wild imagination.” I said, “You’re a writer, you’re
 supposed to!”

Which brings me to: Worst and best names of all time for genitals in writing.   

Worst – manhood, member (member of what? Parliament?) slong, wand, (reminds of a guy I once
 had sex with who had no idea what he was doing and waved his extremely white one around like a 
wand – very off putting,) and man jewels. I can do jewels and even family jewels… but not man jewels. 
Call me picky. And in all fairness I have used manhood ONCE. Henry is an older black gentleman in 
Henry and Isolde, and it was appropriate for him to say ONCE when he was still feeling a bit shy.


I like cock, dick, penis, length and shaft. And balls, nuts are less sexy for me. Erection, hard-on, 
thickness all work for me too. Sometimes I think the formal words like erection can be very sexy.


Now I want to hear what everyone else likes when we get right down to it in RL and books. :) Knock 
yourselves out in the comments!  Return on Friday for the Friday Free For All and be in to win a copy
 of Hawaiian Lei or Henry and Isolde. I’ll give away a copy of each to two lucky people. Aloha and
 thanks for being fellow lovers of beautiful sexual and sensuous men. J



*~*~*~*~*~*~*



HENRY AND ISOLDE ~ Book One

New Orleans, city of soul. Home to the new Troika 
Trilogy series
Henry, Charlie, and Izzy... three friends, three lovers, 
across three lifetimes.
A sensuous, sultry, steamy, romance erotica story.

~*~ … So a woman who’s open with me about 
everything is a revelation. Actually, everything about 
this beautiful woman is. I’ve stepped from a life of 
several unappetizing shades of beige into a glorious 
rainbow buffet of textures, sights, and sounds. But 
most of all—feelings I’m allowed to have. ~*~

 A steamy, deeply sensuous love story, set in 
modern day New Orleans. Henry, an older black 
musician and house restorer feels his life is nearing 
its end. Until he falls in love with the exuberant New 
Zealander, Izzy—his white, younger, richer, married boss. 

The passionate Izzy seduces him in the secret garden he built for her. His life goes from fifty 
shades of beige to a rainbow of textures, sights and sounds, but most of all—feelings he’s 
allowed to have.

They launch into a torrid romance, full of secrecy, steamy seductive sex in car washes, 
beds, and a public park—anywhere to escape the endless stream of house guests.

As their love grows, and inhibitions die, Henry comes into his sexuality for the first time in 
his life. The deep friendship, love and breathtaking romance revitalizes Henry’s old bones.
 But will he be able to keep up with this achingly beautiful younger woman? And will she 
leave her husband?

Their growing relationship exposes family secrets. When Henry suffers an emotional crisis, 
surprising World War Two lifetime memory resurfaces. It reveals Henry and Izzy’s intense 
connection to Henry’s best friend, Charlie.

A trilogy romance that spans a decade and two past lives between New Orleans, England 
and France. It takes the three close friends from friends to lovers. Charlie, Henry and Izzy 
are the chi circle where the flame still burns and love never dies. Proving that love is love.


Available on Amazon http://tinyurl.com/pdreuxc



HAWAIIAN ORCHID ~ Book Two in 
The Hawaiians series

Kulani is “The Orchid,” a young, insecure, pro-surfer 
who comes from a rough background on the Big 
Island of Hawai’i. He’s Beau Toyama’s cousin from 
Hawaiian Lei. But he’s also a healer and has a heart 
as deep as the ocean he’s part of. Like the great 
Hawaiians, who have gone before him, warrior 
Kulani Mahikoa epitomizes the spirit of aloha and
 love. Kulani’s not only healing his own wounds, but 
“The Lost Boys”—young, homeless, abandoned and 
abused gay boys he’s taken under his wing.

Rob Masterson is a wounded psychologist who’s 
trying to come to terms with his husband Tony’s
 death. When he died, they were separated but still
 living together. Can the lone and lonely New
 Zealand widower reconcile all the pieces of guilt and
 love, to heal and fall in love again? When he drops anchor in Kona Harbor and meets the 
exotic islander—young, bolshie Kulani—explosive heat makes sparks fly between them.

Is the age difference between them a barrier or something they’ll get past? Kulani has more 
layers than Rob ever bargained for. And Rob’s tangled knot of responsibility, grief and guilt 
with his New Zealand heritage and past life is something he needs to untangle.

Two wounded men have to learn to trust and love one another. Traveling between the 
South Sea Islands of beautiful New Zealand and the exotic Hawaiian Islands—they forge 
a sea change, finding a home for their shrapnel laced souls.

Hawaiian Orchid by Meg Amor
Edited by Heather Hollis
Cover Art by Syneca Featherstone
Published by Loose Id, LLC


Amazon          Loose Id          All Romance Books ARe

Kobo          Barnes and Noble


Excerpt

Rob 
“Are you always this stroppy? Or only on a good day?” 
“What do you mean?” he says, all attitude.
Jesus Christ, gorgeous he might be, but with the chip on his shoulder the size of a log,
 it’s more work than I need right now.
“There’s the door.” I indicate with my head. “See yourself out.”
“You really want me to go home?” he says despondently.
I sigh. “Kulani, you’re so damn prickly, it’s like having a cactus shoved up my arse
 every two seconds.”
He runs his fingers through his long, curly black hair, sweeping it back with one hand,
 and digging his other one into his back pocket. I’d love to take him to bed, but this isn’t
 worth it. Too much attitude, too many issues. If I’m not picking prickles out of my skin, I’ll be
treating myself for burns. He’s a lot of work.

“I’m sorry.” He shrugs. Even that has “fuck you” attitude. I’m past the age where I feel
 like babysitting someone.
I walk over and place my hand on his shoulder. “You’re stunning, but I’m too old for
you.”
He drops his head, and I mentally exhale, waiting for the next bite from him. But when
he looks up, he has tears in his eyes, and my heart takes a direct hit.
Bugger.
“You don’t really like me, do you?” he asks, biting his lip, eyes cast down.
“You’ve got an abrasive personality. I feel like I’ve been rubbed raw this evening. It’s
like being in a boxing match.”
His shoulders slump, and I have to hold myself back from pulling him into my arms.
I don’t need this sort of energy in my life. There’ll be tantrums and fights…hurt feelings
 over stupid things…
His hand comes up and rubs mine on his shoulder. He needs the touch, the
 connection with another human. I recognize that feeling. But this is inviting trouble, even
 for a quick fuck and one-night stand. I could do with the sex, but not the aftermath of spiky
 energy.
His breathing is up and down, as he’s trying to get himself under control. Fighting
 emotions, no doubt. Bugger it. He’s tugging at my bloody heart for some reason. That’s 
probably why I blurt out, “Come sail with me tomorrow. We’ll go over to Maui.”
For a split second, all the aggression falls away, and I get to see the vulnerable kid
 underneath. I shouldn’t really call him a kid. At twenty-five, he’s an adult, but still half my 
age. He squeezes my hand, and I take that as a yes.
“Meet me down at the boat about seven. Bring coffee from Lava Java. I’ll bring
 everything else.”
“Can we make it eight?”
God, he can’t even get his arse out of bed and be there early for an invitation. But I
 give in, nodding.
“Okay,” he says, tough-guy stance back in place. Oh to be that young and stupid again.
Speaking of stupid. What the hell am I doing inviting him out again tomorrow, when
 all I want to do is throw him out the door? Beautiful, yes, but the attitude leaves a lot to be
 desired. If I had to take a wild stab in the dark, I’d say he’s sitting on a ton of hurt. Layers 
and layers of it. He’s so bloody bolshie and oppositional, I’m exhausted from the evening. 
I like a decent intelligent convo with someone, interplay back and forth. The opportunity to 
get to know someone more. Flirt a little, or a lot. I’m probably too old-fashioned and been 
out of the game too long, but I need something different than what he’s after.
Then he throws his energy, and I get sideswiped again. “Don’t I get a kiss good night?”
 he says, raw sex appeal oozing from him, and I nearly grab him by his shirt to yank him to 
me. Now I’m fighting to control my breathing. “Please,” he says so softly I wonder if I’ve
 heard it right.
What a mix he is—seething rage, the log on his shoulder bashing me in the head all
 night. Then he becomes so vulnerable, it’s like someone rubbing balm into my abraded
 skin. His own version of BDSM, just done in a mental fashion. I amuse myself for a 
moment, thinking of a safe word I could use. Fun. That would be a good word. It’s the least
 likely word I can think of for this evening so far.
No, it’s not my thing. I wrote a paper for uni once and interviewed people in the scene.
 I probably know enough to be dangerous, but not enough for anything else.
I look at his eyes, the fragility. He’s asking me to not reject him, but I also see the
 humiliation at having to ask, to beg. I do my best internal Bogart voice. Buckle in, 
schweetheart, this could be a rough ride.
Longer R-rated version on Loose Id 




Meg Amor, a multi-published contemporary author, has always believed in love and romance. She
writes deep, sensual, romance stories about heartfelt connections and deep soul relationships. Meg 
feels that passionate sex, as well as her characters inner workings--their vulnerabilities, emotions, and
 thoughts--are what make a love story exciting and real. She loves to write sensual, erotic romance, 
with committed poly, and gay male/male relationships.

Meg hand-wrote and "published" her first book when she was eleven about her parent's separation.
Constantly told as a child she had a vivid and (over) active imagination, the dawn of the computer era
meant she could now take dictation at speed from the interesting characters galloping around her head.

She grew up in New Zealand, and temporarily lives in California with her American fur child Leo Ray Jr.,
the Ginger Ninja. Her heart and soul are split between her American home state of Hawai'i in Kona on
 the Big Island, and the sultry, steamy Southern city of New Orleans. Nearly all her books are set in 
Hawai'i or New Orleans, along with snatches of New Zealand for good luck.

Meg's a bohemian and gypsy at heart, and loves to travel all over the world. She has a love of open
cockpit biplanes and the gentle waft into the air from a grass strip. Given a choice, she'd eat out most
nights. Fine dining, French, Fusion, Afghani, and Burmese food are some of her all-time favorites. But
her favorite junk food is New Zealand fish and chips cooked in pure fat. Never one to do things by 
halves, she believes in the motto "Amor Vincet Omnia"--Love Conquers All.

Aloha!

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