A Widow’s Rage Defense of Patton Oswalt’s Engagement

Grief is a very personal journey and you are absolutely right, NO ONE has any right to tell a person when they should be ready or not to move on.
I haven’t lost a spouse but I lost a baby before term and it’s the other way around. You get the whole “oh it’s been a year, you should be over it by now”, “at least you still have your daughter!”.

Erica Roman Blog

Yesterday I was very excited to see that the comedian Patton Oswalt had announced his engagement to Meredith Salenger. Now, anyone who know’s me knows that I don’t follow the lives of celebrities at all. I’ve made an exception for him. Our spouses both unexpectedly died within 3 days of each other and both of us have processed our grief journey fairly openly. (Of course, his platform is a mite bigger than mine lol)

On the 102nd day of his journey (105 for me) he wrote in a Facebook post,

“I was face-down and frozen for weeks. It’s 102 days later and I can confidently say I have reached a point where I’m crawling. Which, objectively, is an improvement. Maybe 102 days later I’ll be walking.”

I shared that post on my own page because I could connect to that place he was in. No longer frozen, but the…

View original post 732 more words


Donovan gets the last laugh (Selina & Donovan part 16)

There it is, finally, the last chapter of the story of Selina and Donovan. Real life really got in the way for this one, but the important thing is that I managed to get those two to where they needed to be.

It’s the day of the party, friends and family are there to help them celebrate the new house, the new business and, even though most of them don’t know it yet, the new baby.

There may be little extra bits, we’ll see where my muse takes me. But for now this is it.


“Ha!” Donovan throws at me as he enters the kitchen, looking delicious in his white shirt and black cargo shorts. “I told you they’d have a wager on this. You owe me.”

He walks up to me and puts his arms around me, his hands on my belly, his chin hooked over my shoulder. Part of me wishes we were still in bed, exploring each other’s nakedness. Continue reading

Lacey wins a bet (Selina & Donovan part 15)

Life has been getting in the way a lot but I got there in the end! Here is chapter 15 (and no, it’s not the last one!) of Selina and Donovan. ^_^

A car door slamming outside jerks me out of my sleep and it takes me a second to remember where I am. A ray of sunlight is streaming through a gap in the curtains and I’m glad I don’t have to get up just yet. It’s Saturday and my plans for the day have nothing to do with work.

I roll over and cuddle up to the warm naked body of the man sleeping next to me. He’s lying on his belly and I spend a minute admiring once again the beautiful tattoo covering his back.

I can’t help tracing with my finger the little angel that he got added to it last year. Thinking about the baby we lost still brings tears to my eyes and I wonder when the memories of that loss will start hurting less. The design was his idea and I just had to get a matching tattoo on my wrist.

“How are my girls this morning?” Donovan asks with a sleepy voice that makes me smile. He’s not really a morning person, though that will need to change soon.

“We’re good,” I reply, moving away a little so he has room to roll onto his side. His hand finds my belly, his finger spanning the smallish bump as he starts stroking my skin.

I turn my head to look at him and the look of concentration on his face makes my heart melt. I keep telling him it’s too early for him to feel the baby kick just yet but that doesn’t stop him from trying, every day.

He lets out a huge sigh. “Nothing.”

“I can feel her. Give it a couple more weeks, baby.”

Of course we have no idea yet if the baby actually is a girl as it is a couple more weeks until my 20 week scan, but we both have the feeling that it is.

He grins at me then moves closer, pulling me to him with his hand on my hip until we’re lying as close as we can, shoulder to toes. We kiss, and it’s a sleepy type of kiss, tongues lazily grazing each other, starting a slow burn deep inside my pussy, the way kissing Donovan always does.

His hand rounds the curve of my ass and I moan, pressing myself closer to him. I can’t help it, nothing gets me horny faster than his hand on my ass. His hand is on the back of my thigh now and I hook my leg over his hip, welcoming the hardening ridge of his erection against my slit.

I’d read that the second trimester makes some women hornier but I had never put much stock into it. Until now.

I want him all the time.

We have sex before he goes to work in the morning and, by the time he gets home around 6pm, I’m so ready to tear the clothes off his scrumptious body he’s lucky to get a drink before I have my wicked way with him.

Not that he has any complaints… we can’t get enough of each other and after the drama of last year, when I thought I had lost him forever then my subsequent brush with death, I’m loving every minute of it, and we are making every moment count.

He cups my face with both hands as the kiss gets more intense and rolls us over so I’m on top of him, his cock trapped between us. I start moving my hips, rubbing my wet pussy up and down his developing hardness, moaning every time the tip of his cock bumps my clit.

The kiss ends because we both need to breathe and I sit up on him, delighting in his groan when I rake my nails down his chest, a bit rough, the way I know he likes it. My thumb swipes the head of his cock and he bucks his hips, his hands on my upper thighs holding me down on him.

I don’t know how much longer I can wait until I take him inside me but I’m willing to torture him a little bit more. I lock eyes with him then move up onto my knees, one hand resting on his chest for support as I lean forward a bit.

I wrap my other hand around his cock, giving him a gentle squeeze that makes him groan before I line the head of his cock with my hole and press down so he’s just inside me. I love that first stretch so much that I lift my body again just so I can take him inside me a second blissful time.

He groans loudly, his fingers digging in the soft flesh of my thighs as I move up and down, slowly taking him inside me, inch by inch. Once he’s seated all the way inside, I lean forward so I can brace my hands on his chest and I start grinding him.

The friction on my clit feels exquisite and his cock is rubbing against my A-spot with every roll of my hips. I know the love and adoration I see in his eyes is mirrored in mine.

I love the feeling of control I get when I’m on top, riding him like that, knowing that there will be a point where we both need more than the slow grinding happening right now.

I hook my feet under his knees and brace one arm behind me on his strong thigh, his cock reaching deeper inside me as he pulls me down on him with both hands.

I’m impaled on his cock and there is nowhere I’d rather be. I start moving faster as his hands skim up my side, my breathing speeding up in anticipation.

I let out a loud whimper when his thumb and index fingers find my nipples and squeezes them gently. Pregnancy has made my nipples much more sensitive and I don’t need as much pressure as usual to send intense shards of pleasure to my clit.

I start moving my hips faster, my orgasm building up low in my belly, loving the dazed look on Donovan’s face when his eyes fall to the spot where our bodies are joined, and the noises escaping him as my pussy clenches around his cock.

Watching him watching us makes me hornier and I need more.

I need pounding.

I need him driving into me with all his body weight, thrusting hard and deep, hitting my A-spot until I scream.

His hands are back on my hips, he pushes up as I move my hips forward and I gasp.

“I need… I need… oh God… Fuck!” I can’t stop moving my hips and he’s pulling me down on him, the pressure on my clit increasing with every roll of my hips.

He groans when I dig my nails in his chest as my orgasm hits out of nowhere. My scream of pleasure becomes a moan of discomfort as the clenching deep inside me causes my uterus to contract repeatedly and I fall forward on all fours over him as the contractions continue.

“Sorry,” I bite out, concentrating on breathing through the damn things. Bloody Braxton-Hicks! Really taking the fun out of orgasms. Thankfully they don’t tend to last too long.

“It’s ok, bub.” Donovan is running his hands gently over my belly, and I feel his still hard cock between my legs. Once again I came before he did and it’s way too uncomfortable for me to keep going once the contractions hit. He’s gonna get blue balls if this keeps happening…

I move off his delicious body so I’m lying in my side against him and reach up to kiss him. At the same time I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock.

He moans against my mouth when I start moving my closed fist up and down his shaft. “You… you don’t have to… to do this…”

“Oh but I do…” I kiss him again, my hand gliding easily on his cock as he is still coated in my juices. The bliss-filled groans that escape him every time my thumb swipes the tip of his cock help me forget the way my belly is still contracting.

Focusing on bringing him pleasure after the pleasure he gave me is what I need right now and I block out everything that is not Donovan. I break the kiss and start whispering in his ear instead. Naughty words about what I’d like him to do to me later, in graphic detail, while my hand takes him closer to his climax.

Soon his breathing speeds up and I know he’s getting very close. My hand moves a little faster, the precum escaping the tip providing needed lubrication.

He comes with a groan a moment later, my fist closed over the head of his cock in a well-practiced move that prevents any unwanted mess.

I leave him to recover, kissing his cheek before I get out of bed to use the bathroom. My belly feels back to normal now, thank God. Sometimes the contractions last for hours.

I’m about to slip back into bed with Donovan who looks half asleep when I hear a car coming to a stop outside, then familiar voices coming closer.

“Didn’t realise it was that late.” Donovan’s sleepy voice makes me smile.

I check the time in my phone on the bedside table and sure enough, it’s just about that time we’re expecting Lacey and Chris.

“You take your time, I’ll let them in,” I tell him as I get some underwear and a bra out of my drawers. I sigh when I spot my jeans on the chair by the dresser. They don’t fit me anymore; it’s been dresses or trackpants now for a couple of weeks as I’ve started showing. I keep meaning to go shopping or make myself some maternity pants but I haven’t had a chance to yet.

I pick my favourite dress from the wardrobe, red poppies on black with a 1950s style flared skirt, then I select a red cotton scarf to complete my outfit, arranging it over my stomach in an attempt to hide the bump. We haven’t officially announced the pregnancy yet, only my parents know.

I know that Lacey has her suspicions though. I haven’t had much time to catch up with the girls recently, in person at least, it’s been work, work, work since I quit working for the bitch to start my own boutique dressmaking business a little bit over six months ago.

“Can’t really hide that bump anymore, bub,” Donovan chuckles and looking at myself in the mirror I see that he’s right. Oh well, I guess now is a good time as any for my friends to find out, it is the day of the big reveal, after all.

Our families and friends are coming over to celebrate this new house we bought a month ago as well as my successful first six months as a self-employed designer. We figured it was a good time to tell them all at the same time we’re having a baby.

I don’t bother with shoes and give Donovan a kiss before I leave the room, aware from the incessant knocking that my friends have reached the front door.

“I’m coming!” I yell in the general direction of the front of the house as I make my way down the hallway.

“I hope you mean you gonna open the door, not the other one!” I hear Lacey yell back, then Chris’s “Really?!?”, slightly muffled through the door panel.

“Dumbass!” I say to her face after I open the door and we hug. It has become a bit tricky because she is a bazillion weeks pregnant and her belly is huuuuge but we manage.

I give Chris a hug next and feel Lacey’s eyes on me. I’m quite fond of her hubby of eight months, because he clearly makes her happy.

Lacey follows me into the house while Chris gets the boxes they picked up for me from the caterer out of his car.

“How are you, stranger?” Chris asks as he joins us in the kitchen, carefully depositing the boxes on the table.

I smile at him but before I have a chance to answer that life is very, very good, Lacey interjects.

“I told you her eggo was preggo! You owe me $20, sexy man!”


Remember part 14?

If you were wondering what Selina’s dress looks like, it’s the Red Poppies on Black Hepburn dress by Lady Vintage (sadly, it’s discontinued).ss13hepblredpoppy

When technology fucks you over

We moved house last week (on the Saturday).

So I saved my open documents (on OpenOffice) and then I shut down my computer. We didn’t have the internet until Wednesday, I didn’t turn my laptop back on until Thursday morning, because we were busy with other things.

Tonight I decided to open the document that has chapter 3 of the story of Wade and Celia.

I was faced with 8 pages of ####################.

The file is corrupted because, according to the internet after I googled my issue when I tried to open the file, I didn’t wait 10 minutes for OpenOffice to do its thing before I shut down my laptop.

I’ve lost a whole chapter because I’d taken it down from GoogleDocs and not backed it up on anything (or sent the file to my wife).


An Open Letter To Donald Trump From Some Angry Women.

Drifting Through


Dear Mr. Trump… can I call you Mr. Trump? Is that ok? I want you to be happy, that’s very important to me.

Before I get started, let me say this letter isn’t from all women. The Trumpettes surely won’t approve of this message. But this is from most women.

We see right through you. We have all known you at some point. Your ways are not unfamiliar to us. We see through you because we’ve been dealing with you our whole lives.

We heard you call women pigs. And disgusting. And stupid. And bimbos.

We watched as you called a former Ms. Universe “Ms. Piggy” and then spent four days continuing to insult her.

We see your weakness. Your lust for attention at any cost, your need to denigrate women. We see all of it. And we’re mad.

Yes. We’re mad. And fired up. And here’s the thing about us……

View original post 1,086 more words