Erotic Literary Salon

Posted in Erotic Literary Salon, What's new? on October 3, 2011 by ApathyKiss

Mark your calendars, my snowflakes!!!!

October 18th ApathyKiss is the featured author for the Erotic Literary Salon at the Bohemian Absinthe Lounge in Philadelphia!!

Come out to hear me read to you- a ghost story with an erotic twist!!! It’s going to be fun!

Hope to see you there!


It’s like a drug.

Posted in Erotic Pieces, old treasures on September 22, 2011 by ApathyKiss

I found this piece on my old Livejournal. Now, for the younger kids, Livejournal was the blogging site you met people on before there was Myspace and Facebook. I had many pages there but my ApathyKiss page was where I went to write dreams, poetry, and the rambling poems that were void of punctuation I would spew out at random. This particular piece was a favorite of mine that I edited and would love to share with you beautiful people.

I took a sip. Subtle at first, not much bite but the aftertaste made me crave more. It’s delicious.

When the glass was taken from me I pouted the best little girl face you could imagine creating. I could almost smell the bubble gum and dirt.

Twice it was taken, and twice returned.

When the glass returned the second time, it was a bigger glass, and the liquid had been changed. It’s been a while since the fine wine, and now with the first sip, the flavor had changed. The taste haunted me and the lingering drops were intoxicating. I took a few more sips and cradled the glass as I would a fragile animal.

When the glass was taken away, I tried not to notice, I tried to act like nothing happened. I tried to pretend I didn’t care. But inside my body was ripping apart for another sip. Just a drop, to lick the inside of the cup, anything. Don’t do this to me. You created the thirst and then denied me the pleasure of my drink!

The glass comes back after much pain and sorrow of the loss. It was handed to me with a smirk by the waiter and he sauntered away to assist other customers. He knew what I was in for. The glass now has wear and tear but it only added to it’s charm. Funny, I never noticed the details of the cup before, only the contents. The goblet was clear and I could see right through it. I could see into the eyes of the person across the room, that’s how clear the glass was. But the stem of the goblet was a masterpiece all in it’s self. It’s beautiful. Vines wrap dangerously around the glass and seductively cling to every dip and curve. The end of the vine snaked out and like a tongue, curled from the edge of the base. I could see the wine inside and I felt my mouth water at its existence. My heart beat quickened and my palms began to sweat. I thanked God I was alone at the table, for anyone here would surely think me mad for the exquisite pleasure a few sips of good wine will give to me.

I took the first sip and closed my eyes. It felt like home. It had the same flavor, the same texture, the same aftertaste. But now it had a bite. And the bite threw me back, bringing my eyes open in a flash and tears springing to the corners. The waiter approached with the same devious grin, “Why are you crying, milady? Is the wine not to your liking?” I responded that the wine was perfect, thanked him, and sent him away. I took my glass and held it delicately in my shaking fingers. I needed to be alone. I walked to the open terrace doors and swung them open with my foot, I couldn’t let go of the cup. My hair streamed behind me and the wind tossed my long dress all around my body but I didn’t care. I don’t care. My eyes were wild and I stared into the cup deeply, as if it was telling me something. I took another sip, taking more into my mouth than I could swallow, but I needed more. I was greedy and needed more to fulfill the thirst.

Each sip was something different. In this one, I let the liquid rest on my tongue and I closed my eyes. The meadow came to life under the night sky and I could smell each individual flower. Each flower that was created with precision and care, I could smell the nectar that it held. I let some wine fall down my throat and with my greedy heart the entire gulp went down. The burning of the strain in my throat brought tears to my eyes once more and a frost to my meadow. All the plants were dead. The fog rolled in and I felt like I would never breathe again. The tears were rolling down my cheeks and I panted for breath. I wanted to scratch at my throat and call out for help, open the terrace doors that slammed shut behind me, but… the wine. The wine was my priority now. I couldn’t desert it. Now that I’ve found this flavor, I couldn’t let anyone take it from me again.

I quickly began drinking the glass, trying to push the gulp through my system and draining the cup of all contents but it never ended. No matter how much I drank, there was always one sip left. “Do you mock me?” I said out loud to no one. “Do you mock me with your ambrosia? This damnation has taken away any dignity and spirit I have and you choose to let me keep begging and indulging?”

I’ll never break free of the glass. I’ll never break free from the wine. I’ll never get my meadow back.

I stared at the goblet I gripped in my fingers. My knuckles were white from my grip and blood was dripping from my hand. The serpent vine had sliced through my palm. Blood too? You want my blood?

I’m tired. I’m intoxicated. I’m bleeding. I’m crying.

Taking the goblet in the other hand, I tossed it over my shoulder and walked to the terrace doors. I waited for the smash. I waited for the breaking of glass, but when I turned my head, I saw it resting calming on the terrace wall. Well. Fine.

I strolled in and took my seat. Everyone was looking at me, I could feel it. Everyone was asking who I was and why my hand was bleeding. The waiter came to my assistance and cleaned my hand, then asked if I wanted anything.

“Yes. A drink.”

That is the Question…

Posted in collaboration, Erotic Pieces on August 29, 2011 by ApathyKiss

I have been working with a few people on some amazing projects in the past few weeks and have many more planned. Not only erotica, but songs and even a screenplay.

This poem was written by my favorite poet and sister Chante. I added and changed a few things and now it is a wonderful display of two writers coming together to write about a beautiful sexual experience. I hope you like it… and gentlemen? Take notes.

To Eat the Peach or To Not Eat the Peach
By: Chante Douglas and ApathyKiss

To eat a Peach or not eat a Peach..that is the question
When true delight is handed to you,
A delicious treat from the sacred garden,
I hate to tell you this…
But it is necessary to devour
And enjoy every lick.
To see how many it takes to get to the core
Where the sweetest juices flow
Don’t bite it or break the skin
Don’t fake like you enjoy it
I want you to love it
Its soft and sweet
with a little peach fuzz
Then you tell me….
You dont eat peaches
Excuse me?
But you want me to eat your fruit instead?
FUCK that!!!
Then there’s YOU…
who loves to eat peaches
hold my hands down
so i cant move
My peach open and ripe
Somehow your arm gets wrapped around my waist
and my legs are shaking
I’m screaming in a different language
that I didn’t think i was fluent in
I’m starting to sweat
My heart is racing
I cant catch my breath
You grab my breasts
Until i feel like I’m passing out
I’m trying to hold on but I cant
I’m losing control..
Where the fuck are you going??
We aren’t close to being done yet….

If you enjoyed this poem, you can contact me at or hear her read in person at the Erotic Literary Salon every third Tuesday of the month.

Try to figure it out..

Posted in opinional rants on August 12, 2011 by ApathyKiss

I have been writing for over ten years. Most of that time has been erotica and short romance stories. I use different descriptions and ways to describe emotions that are really just my own interpretations of the moments I can relate to. The reason why I choose to write erotica is because when you have sex with someone, it’s very psychologically stimulating as well as physically. And erotica let’s me talk more about that part of the act as apposed to just the dirty deeds. Even though I include them all. 😉

As far as the mind is concerned, the emotions that you feel when you are with someone, whether you love them or not, are insanely intense. The anticipation of the first move, the impatience of wanting his hand to touch you, the thrill of getting what you want when you want it, or the thrill of being denied what you are hungering for. Seeing those emotions swimming in the other person’s eyes when you are in the middle of the act is such a mind fuck. You know there are thoughts and wishes and mental caresses going on in that mind, and you wish you knew what they were thinking. It’s that desire that finally takes you over the edge where you explode into a million fragments that burst… to be rejoined at the moment when your mouth pours out the cry of release.

You don’t need toys or whips or chains all the time. You just need that mental connection. And having a large cock helps too.

What is the safe word?

Posted in contest on July 27, 2011 by ApathyKiss

Do you have a safe word? Do you have a word that you hold onto in your heart, on the tip of your tongue, but never whispered for it to stop?

I want to know what that word is. I want an inspirational safe word to catapult my first official novel into the erotic world and I want my fans to help me! I will be polling everyone and asking for suggestions and favorites on Twitter and Facebook for the next few weeks.

The deadline will be the end of August because I want a lot of ideas. I want to know why and I want to know if you ever used it. And don’t forget, this is a contest!!

What do you win? Oh, let me tell you. You will win a free copy of the novel you inspired! And even a mention in the dedication. Because if not for you, it would have never been written.

Make sure you get credit! So email me at with your submissions or find me on Facebook and Twitter!

Let the games begin!!!

She will eat you alive.

Posted in Erotic Literary Salon, Erotic Pieces, opinional rants on July 21, 2011 by ApathyKiss

As Many of my fans know, I am a huge music nerd. I have even been called a musical elitist. And I accept that. Movies like “High Fidelity” and “Empire Records” have been written about people like me working in a record store and giving people dirty looks for not knowing that bands like “Ours” and “Loudermilk” actually exist and that there is more to metal and hardcore than what you find on the wall in Hot Topic next to the Justin Bieber cd’s and the neon bracelets. People like me who you walk up to and say, “I don’t know who sings this song but it’s a guy and he says, ‘I just want to love you’ and I think it was on the radio. Do you have that?” and I can walk up to the section and find the cd for you. Being a music elitist, I have a huge wealth of musical nonsense in my head that I use at every opportunity.

Most of my writing is influenced by music. Which brings us to the feature presentation.

Maynard James Keenan is more than just Tool. He is also countless other projects and bands, one I love and worship called “Pucifer” is especially amazing in my critical eyes. The first song I heard from them was on the Underworld soundtrack called “Rev 22:20” and it blew my mind. It was dark and simple, seductive and deep. Some of the lyrics would make you close your eyes and take a step back to rethink the idea of Jesus martyring his mother to ride to hell between those thighs. It was incredible. I include this song on every playlist I make and on every list I write.

I began writing an erotic piece using some of the lyrics from the song and it turned into a dark and controversial piece that I absolutely adore. I wrote this piece to be read at the monthly Erotic Literary Salon this month but as I was writing it, it was done from the male’s perspective. And while I have no problems with gender bending and switching places, this piece would have sounded a little odd coming from a female. That was just the way I wrote it. Luckily, I had a man that was itching to read and when presented with the opportunity, he did an incredible job and read it better than I ever could.






Rev 22:20

Don’t be aroused by my confession unless you don’t give a good God Damn about redemption. I’m not looking to be saved, and if you are listening, neither are you. Jesus has risen, it’s no surprise. Even he would martyr his Mama to ride to hell between those thighs. The sexy devil seduces us all, and I’m not sure I can resist this time. ‘Cause nobody ever survives. Prayin’ to stay in her arms just until I can die a little bit longer. Saviors and saints, devils and heathens alike- She’ll eat you alive.


Seduced and slammed without enough time to catch my breath, she has me right where she wants me and there is no turning back. The warmth of her breath is like steam on my face, leaking from her seductive grin when she takes me in hand and asks me just how bad I want her. I can’t deny the velvet steel she has in her grip. Dark tipped fingers lace through my hair, as a sound unfamiliar to me escapes from my lips, she pulls my head down, burying my face in her soft chest. Cloth is discarded like melted ice in a fire, no longer a trace on her soft skin. My mouth opens, tongue falling out and laving a long wet line from the valley of her dolls to the cavern of her clavicle.


The steamstress shivered. She actually trembled at my kiss. Bringing the devil herself to a state of mind-crumbling pleasure will give me a satisfaction I never thought possible. Her body presses close to mine and I feel the heat of her desire seep through my skin. I have to have her. And if I have to sin to have her I’m going to lie, lie lie…


Legs wrap around me like poisoned vines and I am held captive in her embrace. Like a snake, the devil slithers down my body, her venomous lips leaving a trail of honey on my skin. Where her hot mouth mets flesh, it is scorched with her kisses. Breath meets the throbbing skin of my hard cock and before I could even plead for her to continue, weep for her to taste me, cry for her mouth to engulf me, she laughs. What is she, what is she, what is she waiting for?


Her touch is both innocent and evil. I don’t know how she did it, but I am crying inside for her kiss. My skin is shivering even though I am burning up. I need her like you need to be woken from a nightmare. Break me and hate me but please, fucking take me. I open sore and wet eyes to look down and am treated with the most amazing sight. The princess of pain on her knees before me, watching my every move. Fingernails are digging into the backs of my thighs; I’m sure there will be bruises and blood behind them.


I’ll sell my soul to be back in her bosom. Gladly. Now please suck me dry.


The feeling of her mouth around me is overwhelming. I won’t hold back the groan of torturous delight. It escapes me and feels so amazing that I do it again. Rewarded with a twist of the fist. She pulls me into the depth of the dark cavern of her mouth. Little sparks of rapture start to pop inside my head as smoke starts to curl out of my ears. What… was I saying again?


So steady now, close and I’m ready to blow. I burn for my steamstress. I ache and writhe under her machinations. Before she can bring me to the sacred end, she releases me and steps back.


An offering. Arms wide and body bare, she is giving herself to me. What fool would deny the devil herself? With a cocky grin, I step forward.


Her mouth tastes sweet and smoky, rich and full. She is a dark delight that trembles my taste buds. Taking her in my arms, I have her open and on her back in a moment, preparing to enter the hottest place on her body. A slice through my cock. Fire flows up to my stomach and I think I am engulfed in flames. She has me, the sneaky siren. Inside, her muscles hold me tight surrounded by molten lava. It is such a wonderful torture; I don’t know how to yell- in pain or pleasure. Set the ember rhythm.


The pressure is building at the base of my spine. My pulse has been rising, my temples are pounding. The pressure is so overwhelming and building.

Every sin that I have ever possessed, every desire that I ever craved,  every time that I defied my maker, builds up to this one last moment.  And my soul has been sold. Giving into temptation and following those who trespassed against us has never felt so amazing.


“He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’”

– Revelations 22:20




On a side note, one of my grown up jobs that doesn’t include writing dirty thoughts and dangerous deeds is working with a local concert promoter. And one of the perks is hanging out backstage at shows. I had the dizzying pleasure to meet members of this band and to tell them how they influenced this piece and how I appreciated their music. So thank you Matt and Jeff!!! Hopefully you enjoy reading the piece as much I enjoyed writing it and listening to a sexy male voice read it to a crowd of listeners.



-Love AK





Temporary Insanity

Posted in Erotic Literary Salon, What's new? on July 9, 2011 by ApathyKiss

The paths we take and make for ourselves are always trying to change us. I know this. Inside I am constantly changing myself to fix what I find broken or unsatisfactory.

Saying so, I have changes that are coming and going. It’s a rough run for us all, but we take them one day at a time and one caress as it comes.

-Working on the “Bittersweet Memories” series and turning it into a novel. A full novel. Plot thickens and unfolds… Stay tuned for more of that.

-In the works with a few anthologies for submissions and print. Hopefully some of them won’t be too intimidated by my work…

-I found a publisher or two that specializes in off the chart erotica. They desire the undesirable desires that people are afraid to admit they want. I have a few stories that will not be accepted by certain sites that I want to give to them. Also, any and all odd fantasies are welcome for suggestions.!!!!! A.K. Corgan will write all fantasies that you desire! She will even star in them if you wish. 😉 Orders can be placed at the site and are welcome all the time! Come on… challenge me. I dare you.

-July 19th is the Erotic Literary Salon in Philadelphia. I have something wonderful in the works with a nice little surprise. Come and see what I have in store for you as well as a group of amazing writers and readers. It’s always an amazing time… Visit for all details.

Times they are a changin’. Won’t you stick around for the show????