Lust In The Afternoon

Memories Of Summer

2011-07-08T14:45:00.002-04:00

I couldn't believe that after all these years, I'd run into him again at the lake. I hadn’t been there since the summers I spent right after college. Too soon my career blossomed, and I abandoned the lazy weeks by the water, the leisurely strolls through the woods and the evenings skinny dipping beneath the stars for more sophisticated fare.

And now there he was. Standing on the end of his dock next door to mine, looking as long, tall and lean as he had at twenty.

I let the cottage door close softly, unsure as to whether I wanted to greet him now, or gird my loins and come up with some way to sound casual and unaffected by his presence.

Yeah, right.

Then the decision was taken out of my hands as he turned, his bare chest gleaming in the afternoon sun, his swimsuit hanging low on those hips I could almost feel again beneath my hands.

My heart stuttered as he stopped, mid-stride, as he caught sight of me. Perhaps he remembered those long ago lazy days, when we snuck into the woods to make out. When we waited until our grandparents were sleeping and then shed our clothes and slid into the lake. We held one another, we felt one another’s young bodies, luxuriating in the amazing sensation of skin to skin beneath the cool water.

I remembered. Suddenly it seemed like it had been mere days ago. I remembered the smell of his sun-baked skin, the hint of fresh sweat and pine. The feel of sleek, young muscles and soft, full lips. I remembered the sweet agony of him inside me, the experience so new and bright and wondrous. I remembered the sound of his moans as he spent himself inside me, his jaw tight, his gaze sharp on mine as we rode the waves of passion together.

I felt the sun on my face and the wind in my hair as he came toward me, crossing the grass and the bridge with even, steady strides. He was older now. His face bore experience and knowledge and he carried himself with self-assurance and solidity instead of the spring of youth. Yet he was no less dear to me, no less amazing.

When he stood in front of me, looking down, I wondered what he saw. Did he note the difference the years had made in me? I was no longer the lithe, innocent girl who had given herself to him. I had gone through hard times, and good, and knew they had left their marks on me.

For a moment we stood, looking at one another. Then he smiled. And I responded with my own shy grin.

“Hello, Faith.” His voice was lower, richer.

“How are you, Neal?” My own was whispery with emotion.

“Better, now.”

He took another step closer and I breathed in his scent. The same scent that had filled my dreams for years.

He raised a hand and touched my face.

Old Boyfriends, Old Cars

2011-04-15T17:12:00.003-04:00

I love old cars. The big wide seats, where you slid across if you rounded a corner too fast. The leg room the spacious back seats. Cars these days are so ergonomically designed it’s like sitting in the space shuttle. And let me tell you, it’s not at all conducive to fooling around when you get a leg cramp trying to climb over the shift.

So I was tickled when I got home and hooked up with my old BF, and we picked up right where we’d left off before I set out to earn fame and fortune as an actress in NYC. Jude never forgot me (he said) and he sure seemed delighted to see me (if the bulge in those tight, worn jeans that hung low on his hips was any sign).

It was the Saturday after I got home and we’d been lounging around the lake, sipping beers and listening to music and watching the sun set. We’d been necking on our blanket – all wet from swimming and horny from getting to know each other again. But there was the odd fisherman floating by, and some kids in tires, so we had to restrain ourselves.

When I got in the car next to Jude, snuggled up against him on the front seat of his 1970 Malibu 450, with good old country music playing loud, and we were headed out onto the highway, I couldn’t control myself anymore. I’d had him rubbing up against my who-ha, feeling me up and sticking that tongue of his down my throat for hours. I decided it was time to give him a little of his own medicine.

There weren’t any cars on the road, so he just gave a start when I slid my hand between his legs, pulled down that zipper and dropped my head into his lap. It was a wild, and free feeling, zooming along the road with my high school boyfriend, giving him a hearty blow job, just like old times. I’d perfected my technique since those days, though, and he was having a hard time keeping focused on the road. He eased back on the gas for safety, I guess, but I was so involved in worshipping his yummy cock that I paid no attention.

So I never saw the rickety old mobile home that had pulled alongside us on the four lane highway. And it wasn’t until Jude pulled on my hair, yanking me up so that his shiny nob popped out of my mouth, leaving a thin string of spit from my chin that hung there as I looked out the driver’s side window.

An elderly woman was leaning out the window looking down at us, her mouth gaping as she stared, while she hollered out to the old woman driving.

“Good golly, Miss Molly, would you look at that!”

What can you do? I wiped my chin, winked, waved, and then went back to finish up my business.

God, I love old cars!

It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time

2011-04-06T15:34:00.004-04:00

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

That’s what Rosie said as she gingerly sat down, wincing as she did so.

I looked at her with raised eyebrows. She said she’d taken up the offer of a mutual acquaintance from a trip to the Whip / Lash dungeon and had gone to “play” at his apartment.

I knew Logan from work. I’d assured her he was on the up and up. I had to admit to a little niggle of excitement and arousal as I pondered what type of ‘games’ Logan would play. He was a definite heart-throb and I’d had my share of naughty fantasies about being his bottom, but if he and Rosie hit it off, I’d have to cast my net in another direction.

“Are you OK?” She was obviously uncomfortable. She kept shifting in her seat.

“Better than OK.” She finally grinned, and I had to admit, it was a definite ‘cat that ate the canary’ sort of smile.

“So, uh, Logan fulfilled your wildest submissive fantasies, huh?” Who, me, jealous?

“Baby, you have no idea . . . the talent that man has with a paddle!”

Wicked images of me bent over, Logan whacking my ass with a paddle, the bulge in his leather pants proof positive that he was enjoying having me at his mercy. Nipped it in the bud and did a little shifting in my own seat for a whole different reason.

“I guess you two really hit it off?”

“No pun intended?” She giggled.

“Sorry.”

“Sure, he was great fun. I worked out some tension, that’s for darned sure.”

“When’s your next date?”

“Nah. Not interested.” She held up her hand. “Sure, he’s a god, and he gives good paddle – but I actually think I want someone a bit more nasty. You know – someone who’ll treat me like the bad girl I so want to be.” The wicked grin appeared again.

“Whoa. Really? I mean, you know I’ve had fantasies about being submissive, too, but I don’t think I’m ready for that whole humiliation kind of thing.”

“What can I say? It gets me all hot and bothered when some guy calls me his dirty little slut. . .” She poured a glass of wine. “Logan is a fierce dominant, but he’s a bit too much of a gentleman for me.”

An hour later, after Rosie had left to ‘go home and admire her battered backside’, I had polished off the rest of the Merlot and I glanced at the clock. Nine PM on a Friday night. If I hurried, I could slip into the perfect sub ensemble and still make it to Whip Lash. I happened to know that Logan was a night owl.

The next morning I lay on my stomach, relishing the sting of the welts on my own ass as Logan kissed my neck.

He whispered in my ear as his big hand stroked my deliciously tender butt cheek.

“What made you decide to take me up on my offer last night?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

There was a moment’s pause before he asked, “And now?”

“Now? It’s clear it was a GREAT idea.”

Stolen Nooky

2010-09-10T16:11:00.002-04:00

“I’m not going to have sex with you in the garage, Michael!”

“It’s here or nowhere until my parents leave.”

I sighed and studied my studly fiancee. It had been nearly four days since his prim and proper parents had arrived and we were newly engaged. Hell, we had only been dating for seven months so, yeah, our sex life was hot, heavy and really, really frequent. In fact, if it hadn’t just felt so darn good, I would have wondered if maybe he or I were oversexed to a medically disturbing degree.

Whatever, right?

But his parents had been underfoot every minute of the day and we were traveling with them for all their sight-seeing and it was killing me. Having Michael close to me, smelling him, even those innocent touches, were turning me into a hot, gooey mess.

I looked around. The garage was full of his motorcycles, the 1958 Chevy he was restoring, and all his weight equipment. He kept himself in terrific shape and at six four, and 280 he was unrivaled in his ability to terrify suspects into surrender, confession, whatever he wanted. Me? He didn’t terrify me, but he could make me surrender with just a naughty grin.

Right about now, with his parents having finally dozing after an especially hectic morning, it was do or die. Meaning do it with my guy, or die of frustration. But I looked askance at the crowded space.

“Michael, there’s nowhere to sit or anything, much less lie down.” I looked up at him and caught the twinkle in his blue eyes.

“I was thinking we’d try something different.” He looked to the right and I caught sight of his weight bench.

I was puzzled, for just a second, wondering what he thought we could do with the padded bench, and then I got a sizzling picture of the possibilities.

“Assume the position, lady,” Michael growled at me in a fair approximation of his tough cop voice. He gave me a little shove so I could get the picture.

Feeling foolish, but incredibly horny, I lay on my stomach on the bench, my legs dangling to the floor. It was set up high for Michael’s long legs and my feet didn’t touch the ground.

I felt the chilly air waft across my butt as Michael flipped my denim skirt over my ass.

“Naughty.” He smacked one palm flatly against my bare ass. “Rather slutty to be wandering around in front of my parents without panties.” He smacked me again and I felt the tingle swell into a more powerful throbbing.

“Michael . . .”

“That’s officer to you, Miss.”

I heard the sound of a zipper and involuntarily shifted so I could spread my legs.

“I think a cavity search is in order.”

“As long as you have the tool for it, Officer.” Michael did, indeed, have just the tool I needed. And I needed it fast and hard.

Michael was nothing if not dedicated to duty.

Tale of a Summer Interlude

2010-08-22T11:39:00.002-04:00

It is a hot summer afternoon. The winds are dry but they blow across my skin as I work in the garden. Too warm for clothes, but I must bow to practicality. The filmy, flimsy dress I wear is my favorite. Loose and feather light it flutters in the breeze as I get to my hands and knees to tend to the delicate buds. My breasts, round, full, yearning for a firm touch, swing free beneath my loose clothing. My bottom is secreted under the soft fabric, peaking out as the breezes gently lift it up. As I lean forward, my pussy is exposed; the dress blows up, I don’t smooth it down. The sun on my naked flesh feels carnal and decadent. I pause for a moment, smiling at the joy of freedom before succumbing to societal rules. I resume my labors when I feel you. You are near and the earth gives a slight shudder as you go to your knees behind me. I smell your scent, the masculine musk of a man, fresh from the outdoor, smelling of sun and sweat and more. I begin to quiver in anticipation. What do you have planned for me today? Are you going to fuck me here, on my knees, outside, where all the world can see? Beneath the trees and amid the flowers, where anyone, if they are curious, can sneak a glance between the branches and see you, see me, see us …. see me with your cock inside me? You are, aren’t you?

Your large, strong hands touch the back of my thighs. They are hotter than my flesh and your touch sears. Up slide your hands, pushing the hem of dress away, exposing me to your hungry gaze. The cheeks of my ass, my slit, the shine of juices bursting from my cunt to anoint my skin at the knowledge that you are there, preparing to do …. what?

Your hands slide up, they push my dress further, up, over my shoulders, over my head, until the slight scrap of fabric slides over and down, to pool around my hands. I am naked for you. The way you want me, always. My nipples tighten. Your hands on me grow more commanding. You urge my head down to my hands. I lay my face on the dress sprawled there and wait …. inside me a throbbing has begun, an urgent beat that tries to communicate my desires, my want, my need to have you take me.

Then I feel you. Your cock. Big, thick, and god, my god, so hard. You use it to stroke the back of the thighs, the crack of my ass, the lips of my sex. There are drops of cum, the first of many, oozing from you and you paint my flesh with your semen. You are spreading my cunt now, the round head of you pushing in just a whisper, just enough to enter and stretch me. I groan and beg silently for a thrust, slow, or hard, I don’t care, I just need it inside me. Deep and filling me, the precarious spreading that can be pleasure or pain as you want it ….

More of your thickness pushes forward. Infinitesimal degrees sliding through my slick lips. I want to suck you into me, suck that cock inside me and keep it there, buried, inside of my tightness.

You taunt me. You move forward … only enough to tantalize me. You reach beneath my soon to be filled hole and take my clit in your fingers. You twist and tease it, stroking the hard little nub with your calloused fingers, the roughness bringing me to a panting state of insane lust… Then your hand moves, it leaves my little bit aching for more, but you reach forward to cup my breast, and squeeze the generous, needy flesh in your strong palm. You palm the other breast, pulling on my nipple until all my little bits are standing at attention for you.

Then you begin to move into me. It is a hot slow steady stretching of my flesh as you inexorably penetrate me. I want to push back, to take you faster, but you hold me back. You are in control and I will have your cock exactly as you want to give it to me.

And you want me to take it slowly. Excruciating, agonizing anticipation builds in every cell of my flesh. As you slide in, please, god, please hurry … I cannot stand to wait … don’t torture me … please give it to me….you push, you push harder and more of you fills me. I am crazy with wanting it.

Then you renew. You slide out and I whimper but then you are moving forward again, pushing, harder now, more firmly, more deeply. I take your cock into me but you are going to give me more. You thrust it in now with power. You reach so deep inside me that I feel you bang the end of me. Then you thrust again. Then again. And again. And I am shoving myself back, now, and you are letting me as you begin to fuck me in earnest. Slow, powerful, deep strokes that hit me again and again. You’re pinching my clit and ramming your cock deep inside of me. The sun burns down on us and my flesh is on fire. My cunt is steaming and I’m writhing and groaning and then you are coming. Cum is pouring into me, filling me, and you continue to ram inside of me, forcing me to scream and beg and then I am coming too, as you finger my ass, sliding a big finger into that tight place, and my cunt squeezes and sucks your cum deep inside of me to warm and fill me. My body takes your semen, it takes it all as my body contracts around your cock, wanting to hold it, longer, always.

Then I breathe.

The sun is burning down. I can hear again. I hear the buzz of bees and the trill of birds. The wind is blowing and the air smells green. And I am kneeling naked in my garden with your cum running from my cunt to coat my legs in your sticky, hotness…

And you are gone.

Not Your Kids' Fairy Tale

2010-07-21T16:38:00.003-04:00

Once upon a time there was a beautiful young woman held hostage by her sadistic Stepmother and three stepsisters. Her father, a good man, traveled extensively within the Kingdom, was blinded by the manipulative quartet and had failed to see the torment to which his own daughter was subjected.

Cyn D’Arella awoke the morning of the ball to typical abuse.

“Get up you lazy bitch!” Screamed Magret, the youngest, as she tossed cold water on Cyn. Dressed in the finest of leather-wear Magret stood over the beautiful young girl and gave her a kick with the fuck-me heeled, thigh-high boots she wore beneath the leather skirt.

“We have to spend the day getting ready for the Prince’s BDSM Ball, you twit. I’ll need a waxing and my collar needs polishing. I want to make sure the Prince knows that I’ll be the best sub he ever had!”

“Fat chance,” added Donnella, the second oldest. “I happen to know the Prince loves anal and you, baby sister, won’t let anyone near your precious little rosebud!

“Girls!” Ellarent screamed shrewishly at the three girls before looming over Cyn who stood in a corner. The older woman blew smoke in her face and pinched her breasts beneath the threadbare hand-me-down dress. “You, get to work before I take out my lash. I don’t think you remember just how much I like raising those welts on your tender little ass!”

Cyn hid her tears as the woman shoved her out the door. No breakfast again, and once all the prepping was done, she would be expected to do all the cleaning, too, since the sisters had hosted a sex toy party the night before and everything was covered with KY jelly and cum.

Later that evening, when the foursome had been taken away in their ostentatious carriage, bedecked in the latest sado-maso fashions, Cyn plopped into a chair and let the tears flow. She’d been slapped, pinched, kicked and Ellarent had wrenched her arm good and hard, the old Domme enjoying the squeal of pain her assault had ripped from Cyn.

“Why do you let those cunts treat you like that?”

“What? Huh?” Cyn looked up in surprise at the tall, leggy woman in latex who stood before her corner chair. “Who are you, and where did you come from?”

“I’m your fairy Domme Mother, silly girl, and I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to pop in and take you in hand. Now, stand up. We’ve got work to do.”

“For what?”

“For crying out loud for the Prince’s BALL!!!” The woman tossed her mane of red hair over her shoulder and waved her hands at Cyn. “I happen to have it on good information that the Prince is sick and tired of the posturing subs who’ve been attending his balls, and attending TO his balls, I might add, and you are the perfect woman for him. Lovely, obedient, sensual.”

“What about that whole anal thing? I’m not sure . . .” Cyn cringed before the statuesque woman who wiggled her leathery wings. Fairy, my eye, thought the girl – more like my Bat Domme Mother. But being wise she kept this observation to herself. The woman was stunning, it was true.

“Babe, trust me, you will adore anal. Wicked good – the best - unless of course the Prince has a good buddy stop by for some DP.”

“DP?” Cyn was almost afraid to ask.

“Double penetration, sweetie, absolutely divine!” Then she looked at Cyn critically. “I know just how to dress you up, or should I say undress you up, to catch the Prince’s eye and get that big old cock of his to salute. “Come with me.”

* * *

An hour later Cyn D’Arella was announced as Lord D’Arella’s young daughter. She stood trembling at the stop of the grand staircase, trying not to think of how she looked in the black velvet bustier, collar and the swirling, see-through black dress that hid nothing, including the gold thong beneath it that split her little derriere.

“Bitch!” The stepcunts themselves tried to push through the crowd no doubt intent on doing her bodily harm.

But they were thwarted by the arrival of the Prince of the Kingdom.

Cyn could not help but gasp as the broad-shoulder Dom approached like a hungry panther. Clad in black leather leggings and thigh high boots his chest was bared beneath a leather vest. One ear contained a thick gold earring that glimmered beneath his lion’s mane of deep golden hair.

Stepping up to Cyn he towered over her while studying her intently.

“May I?” He reached up and removed the fancy, feminine collar her Fairy Domme Mother had affixed around her slender neck. He did not wait for her nod, but handed the collar to his man in waiting and held out his hand. The man put a length of leather woven with a fine golden chain and a delicate golden clasp into the Prince’s hands.

The Prince reached out and ran a large, strong hand over Cyn’s shoulder and down to her hands. He picked up one palm and kissed the calloused skin. His eyes flashed with an anger that, rather than scaring Cyn, gave her comfort. Here was a man who would not let her be abused. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. He tasted of wine and smoke and Cyn could not help but notice the way the leather leggings across his groin tightened and swelled. He likes me! He really, really likes me, she thought in awe!

“How perfectly my collar fits you!” His gaze was hot and possessive as he stared into her eyes. “Will you wear my collar, beautiful one? Will you allow me to educate in the many pleasures of the flesh? Will you bend yourself to my hand from this day forward?”

It took Cyn but a fleeting moment to look into the Prince’s eyes and judge him as the one, the only man, to whom she could happily submit.

“Oh, yes, your Highness, I will be yours!” Her voice sounded breathless in the large chamber.

“No need to call me ‘Highness’, beautiful one. Master will do just fine.” As a roar of approval from the room rose up at the Prince’s choice, he smiled down at her and locked the tiny lock on collar about her neck and hung the key on its chain around his neck. He pulled her close to him hard body and let her feel the effect she had on him. Then he kneaded the cheeks of her derriere through the filmy fabric of her skirt and whispered into her ear.

“I can’t wait to get my cock into that sweet little ass of yours, slave.”

Cyn smiled. Her Master was obviously going to make sure that she lived happily ever after.

Menage a Cinq - Lust In Space

2010-07-08T17:02:00.001-04:00

The Orion Team had been in deep space for six months. Boredom had set in, but soon was replaced by a troublesome attraction. Replacement navigator Star Neruli was far too beautiful – and sexy – to be sequestered on the vessel with four virile crew mates. Captain Dex Luther, Royce Darul, Malcolm Stewart and Webb Fortune were each enamored of the lone female aboard. And after a near miss during a shoot out with a rogue pirate vessel, tensions – and adrenaline – blew the lid off the pot of simmering sexual desire.

Star had not fought them when the four men found her, wet and naked in the cleansing stall. They’d been waiting their turn, but high emotions swept them away.

The four men, muscled, powerful, tall and imposing circled her as she stood in their midst. Her breasts heaved and the scent of her arousal filled the small area. She said nothing but once four sets of large hands began fondling her, her moans could not be contained.

Recognizing the dilemma of the close quarters, Dex picked up his diminutive navigator and hauled her out of the room. “Workout room. Now.”

None of the men had to be told twice. Cocks were rigid and each male mind was anticipating the complete submission of their female in his own fashion.

In the workout room the Captain plunked Star down on the edge of a leather weight bench, her legs spread. Her denuded pussy was glistening with her juices and each man’s nostrils flared at her scent.

Without further ado, Dex fell to his knees and tasted her. Star dropped back on the bench, one arm across her eyes as his wicked tongue penetrated her cunt and lapped at her moisture. Her gasping moans and the sight of her tightly furled nipples atop plentiful breasts set the other men on their own courses of action.

Royce and Malcolm fell to either side, one suckling and biting one tight bud, the other squeezing and kneading a large breast.

Webb – acknowledged to like his sex hard and edged with a pleasurable pain, was a dominant man who liked his women submissive and pleasuring him. When Dex had brought Star to a screaming climax, Webb stepped forward. Pulling Star up, he glanced at the other men. They knew what he was asking. Eagerly, Royce fell on his back, his massive organ quivering and red. Webb positioned Star – who was still limp with her climax, over Royce who spread her legs and pulled her down, impaling her in one hard thrust on his cock. Her gasps and squirming were ignored as the other men jockeyed for position. Stroking his erection into steely, throbbing hardness, Malcolm got on his knees at Royce’s head, perfectly positioned before Star’s lips. When she gasped at the penetration of one large cock into her pussy, Malcolm took advantage and slid his own thick dick into her mouth, stifling any further cries. Soon the sound of her eager sucking as he pumped into the warm orifice echoed through the chamber.

Behind her Webb stared hungrily at the winking rosebud of her anus. He pulled a tube of muscle unguent from the shelf. His huge rod needed the lubrication and he loved the writhing when the heated burn of the salve filled a woman’s tight rear hole. Using his long fingers, he penetrated her, thrusting gobs of the lubricant deep inside her. Instantly she began to buck, but with one cock already in her pussy, one in her mouth and hands holding her down, she could do nothing. Webb spread her for a moment until he could wait no longer. He positioned the bulbous head of his cock at her anus and pushed in. As muscles gave way to a huge invader, she went nearly wild. He held her in place until he was fully seated and then began to thrust. Hot, hard, powerful thrusts deep into her ass, as Malcolm fucked her pussy in coordinated pumping. At her head Royce was nearly coming and as their Captain watched, his gaze hot and impatient, Royce spewed thick cum down her throat, bellowing as he pumped his cock deep into her throat. Dex shoved him aside and took his place, ramming his own turgid length into Star’s mouth even as she swallowed Royce’s copious load. Thicker than Royce, he watched as her mouth spread to take his width, her tongue flicking the rim of his pulsing dick.

Webb’s ass fucking was punishing. Malcolm’s dick deep in her womb filled her beyond imagining. After Malcolm had come hard into her channel, and Dex had shot his own wad down her throat, Webb, his cock still impaling her tight ass, pulled her up as Royce took his place beneath her. She was thrust down on his newly rigid rod without mercy and again the men took up fucking her.

Moments later Webb bucked his orgasm and filled her ass with hot, salty cum. Malcolm was now getting his own thorough blow job and so Dex, fingers full of the tingling medicant, shoved them into her ass quickly before replacing them with his own cock.

And so it went for hours. Four hard cocks penetrating Star’s every orifice. Hands spreading her, clutching her, holding her down to accept the men’s absolute, masterful fucking. Webb completed his dominance of her with a forearm deep fisting of her ass as Dex took a turn pummeling her cunt.

As the cabin’s lights dimmed for night sleep, the four men drew away from their navigator. The room was pungent with the scent of cum and sex and Star’s own cream. Cum covered her body, and dried in the corners of her mouth. The shiny unguent and cum mingled on her ass cheeks, the swollen, slick lips of her naked pussy peeked between her spread legs, and puddles of cum pooled beneath her, as the men stared in satisfaction. Dex pulled a warm-up blanket from a cabinet and regretfully covered the beautiful young woman.

Webb was palming his own cock as they trooped out of the room. Dex hit him in the shoulder.

“Let her sleep. We don’t put into port for another six months. There’s plenty of time for fucking.”

Dex spoke for them all as they exited the room.

“Suddenly, I’m not bored anymore.”

And the men turned the lights off, leaving Star naked, spread-eagle, and limp. Fucked senseless, she slept soundly, a broad smile on her well-used mouth, dreaming of months of constantly hard cocks filling all her holes.

Getting To Know Master D.

2010-05-13T15:01:00.005-04:00

The first command was on a hot pink post-it. It made her smile to think of Derrick’s enthusiasm when she suggested that they might want to indulge in their often discussed Master and slave fantasies. But when she saw the instructions, her smile faded. And contemplating her orders made her incredibly hot. And wet.

Derrick had apparently been investigating the matter because the details were crystal clear.

“Slave - Procure the following items: clothespins, lightweight chain (5 feet), ping pong paddle, Ben Gay, ball gag, AstroGlide and butt plug. I will be home at 7. Be bathed, shaved, and naked in the bedroom with all of these items. Or you’ll be punished.”

Signed, Master D.

Clare’s breathing sped up as she pondered the list. They’d tried spanking and she was surprised to find it immensely arousing. The thought of being seriously paddled sent her into the stratosphere of arousal. After their talk, she’d Googled BDSM play and saw things that made her heart go pit-a-pat, and her pussy throbbed right along in time. That she was going to experience it for real had her dripping.

It was four pm and she’d just walked in to find the note. She grabbed her purse and ran out, desperate to comply and be prepared and waiting.

***

Derrick checked his watch and grinned. Clare got home at four. By now she’d be in a state trying to buy everything he’d demanded, and get ready, while her mind would be racing in anticipation of just what he had in store for her.

He’d wanted to explore her obvious submissive tendencies for a long time, but Clare had, until recently, been a fairly vanilla lover, rebuffing his more subtle attempts to draw her into D/s. He loved her more than life and had restrained his dominant urges for the first six months. She was worth it. Since he'd had misgivings about how their relationship could continue given his own nature, he’d been pleasantly thrilled when she brought up the subject one evening, after what he considered a tame spanking that had turned her quite, quite on. She’d fucked him like a wild-woman afterwards, thoroughly submissive throughout. Then she'd shared fantasies that he knew he could fulfill. But it wasn't until he found she’d visited BDSM sites that he raised the subject. He’d hoped it was going to be a turning point for them. He would make certain that it was.

***

The key in the front door almost sent Clare into an orgasm. She’d been sitting on the bed, naked and dying of anticipation for half an hour. She’d bathed, washed her hair, shaved her pussy clean and could not get over the feeling of being so extra naked. The items Derrick had demanded were spread out on the top of the bureau. And as she heard the footsteps, slow, measured, heavy, as Derrick came toward the bedroom, she realized that she was hotter than she had ever been in her life.

The door opened. She gasped as Derrick entered, having obviously changed from his work clothes to a pair of tight black denim pants, a pair of heavy motorcycle boots and nothing else. His expression was dark, dangerous and extremely erotic. He did not smile, nor did he give her his usual greeting.

His greeting was very different this time.

“Get on your knees, slave and get ready to suck my cock.”

A Black Friday Shopping Tale

2009-11-28T16:42:00.002-05:00

I was standing half-naked in a dressing room at Macy’s when a complete stranger burst into the little cubicle.

“What the!” I leapt aside, grabbing my sweater and trying to hid the pertinent parts. The man turned and stared, his eyes wide, his expression frantic.

“Look, I’m not gonna hurt you, lady, but there are some bad guys on my tail…” He held up a finger and peeked out the sliding curtain.

“Shit!” He rushed to me and grabbed me by the elbows. My top fell on the floor and my bare boobs got up close and personal against his leather jacked. “Help me out of this jam and I’ll owe you.”

“Owe me? I don’t even know who you are!” Though I wasn't so sure I didn't want to get to know him. The brute strength in his arms, the great cleft in his chin and a really yummy manly scent were all secondary to his grungy Brad Pitt appearance. Which I normally would have not thought much of but somehow … well, in the flesh my "Brad" was pretty damn hot.

“I’ll explain later. I’m one of the good guys, OK?” And then he started dropping his pants.

“Whoa!” I jerked out of his arms but he paid me no attention at all. Instead, he pulled his pants off (commando – why was I not surprised?) and ran over to me.

“Quick, just pretend that we’re fucking…” and he pushed me down onto the plus bench and wiggled my skirt up past my thighs and started rutting around like a mad dog.

Except that he was particularly well-hung "dog", and he, well, let’s just say danger became the man. He was big, hard and pushing against my fairly well-starved little pussy. I forgot for a moment what was going on, but then a gruff growl outside my door reminded me.

“OK, buddy, but when I say you owe me, I mean, you owe me BIG TIME.” I hissed and clutched him in my arms, snuggling up against him.

“No problem. Now, can we get on with the distraction? I need them to think we’re just a horny couple …” And he started rubbing himself against me.

I spread my legs and wrapped them around his thighs. My skinny little thong got pushed out of the way and I felt flesh against flesh just as someone grabbed the curtain. His cock was big, thick, hard and despite the noise outside, all I could focus on was him against my wetness. Pushing, just a little, spreading me, just a little, and then….

The stranger slid in and the bad guys burst in and all I could scream was, “Oh my God! Oh my God!”

“Sorry,” was the last I heard from the bad guys as they turned and left the dressing room.

My stranger was still on top of me and he was grinning. I wonder why?

“Care to finish what we started, Ma'am?”

“Aren’t you worried about someone interrupting us?”

“Someone already did.” And he lunged forward, filling me up and no one ever noticed the groans from the dressing room amid the post-Thanksgiving melee.

That's when I decided shopping on Black Friday wasn’t so bad after all.

THE EXAMINATION - Part I

2009-11-12T18:02:00.003-05:00

“But Doctor, I thought this was just a consultation?” I widened my eyes and stared innocently at Maverick. His expression remained cool, but an aroused heat burned in his eyes.

“Please don’t argue with me, Ms. Potter. Just strip and climb on the table so I can conduct a thorough examination. Trust me, I know what is best for my patients.” He turned, and grabbed a pair of gloves from the box and waited.

I pulled off the cotton dress I was wearing and stood in just my bra and thong. Maverick’s gaze studied me with seeming clinical disinterest.

“I’m not certain I approve of that underwear, Ms. Potter. Synthetic fabrics can be irritating to a woman’s soft tissues.” He nodded his head. “I’m definitely going to have to examine you thoroughly to make sure you have not suffered undue problems as a result of those. “

“But Doctor, I like the freedom of these very abbreviated underwear.”

“Ah, one of those women. You like to know your ass is free for the grabbing, eh? Pretty slutty of you.”

I just blushed. He looked stern.

“Then I’m going to have to order you to go without panties, in that case. “

“Yes, Doctor.” My meek manner satisfied him.

“Please remove the rest of your clothing and get up onto the table.”

I did as ordered under Maverick’s intense stare. I slid up onto the cool examination table, naked.

He looked me up and down, studying me dispassionately. He approached and reached out his gloved hands and squeezed my breasts. Repeatedly, with increasing strength, he squeezed them. Hard, then harder, until I began to squirm from the pressure he was exerting on my flesh.

“Sit still.”

I quivered beneath his touch as he gripped me hard. He squeezed, to the point of pain and beyond, watching me intently. I groaned but the pain turned into a deep, throbbing pleasure.

Then he moved to take my tight nipples between his fingers. Squeeze, release, then twist – ferociously hard. He pulled the nipples until I gasped. Then he stepped back.

“Lie down.”

I immediately did as he ordered, my breath coming faster, and my entire body now awake and yearning.

“Place your arms above your head.”

This was new, I thought, but I did as instructed. Immediately wrist cuffs were snapped around me, holding my hands taut over my head. I tugged, but there was no give, though the soft lining prevented the cuffs from chafing.

Maverick moved to the foot of the table and took hold of my legs, positioning them into the stirrups. The stirrups, too, had been “refined”. He fitted my thighs and tightened the straps that would hold my legs in them. Then he pulled the two ankle restraints up from the side of the table and hooked my ankles firmly. I was spread-eagled almost to the point of pain, but knew better than to complain.

“As I’ve indicated, I’ll need to complete a very thorough exam to make certain that your anatomy is in good working order. Given your unfortunate choice in undergarments, there are some additional tests I’ll be forced to run on you. I want to make sure you have not lost any degree of sensation.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Please remember that, Miss Potter. Disrespect annoys me greatly.”

“What are you going to do … Doctor?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. Just answer any questions I place to you simply and immediately. I don’t want to have to re-do any part of this examination because you are imprecise.”

“Yes sir, Doctor.”

Strapped down as I was, I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I heard various drawers open, and I heard the clank of metal objects, and an ominous, familiar jangle, and my mouth watered at the sound.

“Hmm. I’ll need to manipulate your clitoris in order to perform this next step. Please relax.” His fingers groped between the throbbing lips of my pussy until he found the tingling nub of my clit. He squeezed it, rolled it between his gloved fingers, until it hummed and I could feel it swelling.

“Excellent response. I’ll make a note of that. But the more sensitive nerves need to be tested as well. “ He reached for something out of my line of sight, and an instant later I felt the agonizing fire of a clit clamp being put on.

I couldn’t hold back a short scream and I panted to hold in a second.

“Now, Ms. Potter, really. Are you trying to tell me you can’t withstand a little discomfort?” He actually made a “tsking” noise and pulled the chart up in front of my face. “I’ll make a notation that you’ll need weekly treatments to toughen you up. You certainly don’t want to be so sensitive that your lover can’t gain his own satisfaction before you. You have to remember that you need to be able to prolong any orgasm until you have been given permission for release. Obviously we’ll need to work on that.”

“Yes, Doctor.” The words were ground out between clenched teeth, as the sharp, flaring pain evolved into a mere hot agony.

“I’ll leave that there for a few minutes. Upon releasing it, I’ll need to gauge the return of sensitivity.” He maneuvered himself back between my legs and settled himself on his stool. “The next process is a rather lengthy one. I feel compelled to order you to restrain any response to my examination, or I’ll have to begin again.”

“Yesss, Doctor.”

I immediately felt the cool wetness of lube. He slid one slick finger into my tight hole, worked it in and out and then proceeded to add a second finger, and then a third. His hands are big and his fingers long and thick and I was already on the verge. But I knew better than to give in to a release before I was given permission.

“Hmm. Your cunt seems quite tight. Ms. Potter, you don’t mind my using that word, do you? Cunt?”

“No, Doctor, not at all.”

“In fact, I expect it turns you on, doesn’t it? Hearing me talk about your cunt while I’m fingering you?” He probed more forcefully until I agreed.

“Yes, it does. It turns me on.”

“I suspected as much. Do you know, Ms. Potter, I have a theory that I’ve been investigating. That women who enjoy various of the more, shall we say, extreme forms of sexual activity, are frequently aroused merely by hearing language such as that. Perhaps we’ll try an experiment some day soon, Ms. Potter. I’d like to see if I could elicit a response from you simply by talking “dirty” as they say.”

“I’m going to move on to the next step in this procedure. You’re going to feel significantly more sensation. Please restrain any response until I give you the word.”

His fingers slid free of my vagina, with a sucking sound. And were instantly replaced by the thick, blunt head of a toy. He pushed it in, slowly, stretching me wide. Deeper and deeper he inserted it until I felt like I was being split apart. But still further it went.

“I considered using one of the smaller tools, but I suspect, Ms. Potter, that a woman as slutty as yourself has no doubt made considerable use of your cunt, so for this test I need maximum penetration. The 8 inch tool seemed inappropriate, so this is my largest, ten-inch tool. The thickness, of course, is two inches. It should do the trick for my purposes.”

I made the mistake of groaning – just once – and Maverick gave a quick shove with the dildo. Punishment, of course for not maintaining my silence.

Finally the monstrous thing was fully inside me and I felt stuffed full to the point of bursting. The sensation, coupled with the pounding of the blood in my still strangled clit was enough to push me right to the brink. I gritted my teeth and hung on for dear life, clenching my fists and hoping he would not push me further.

Faint hope, it turned out as suddenly the vibrating buzz started deep inside me.

“Oh….” Instantly my body’s response leapt up a notch and I could feel the juices pouring out of me as he ramped the vibrator, higher and higher. The sensation within me was all-consuming. My nipples tightened, my pussy wept, my cunt clenched and my clit throbbed. I could feel myself edging closer and closer to a huge orgasm and fought it with everything I had.

“I’ll keep this going at this level for a few minutes, and then I’ll conclude this portion of the testing….be prepared, Ms. Potter, when I give you the word, that you may release.”

Minutes! The agony notched higher and higher, the beautiful sweeping electricity coursing through my body as my entire focus dwelt on my cunt. Seconds ticked by as I nearly fainted with my effort. Longer and longer … he drew out the unbearable sensation until I thought I’d scream with wanting.

“Just another second…..three, two, NOW” and he whipped off the clit clamp and the searing explosion of pleasure/pain ripped through me on the back of an earth shattering orgasm that rocketed through me.

Gutteral grunts, screams, moans poured out of me and I writhed in a tidal wave of mind-boggling sensation. Every titanic clench of my cunt on the thick vibrator, the blood rushing into my clit, causing ripping, blinding flashes of pain that turned into a heated beauty deep in my body, until finally, eons later, the thunderous pounding and throbbing began to ebb and I began to breathe again – deeply, taking in oxygen and sighing in the aftermath.

I felt the giant tool being slid from my pussy and a slight wave of residual orgasm marched through me again, until then, at last, just a feeling of emptiness as I lay, sated, limp, across the examining table. The restraints were released though I couldn’t have moved a muscle, and I lay for several minutes as Maverick made “notes” on his “chart”.

“Excellent response. I can see that you have quite adequate self-control, Ms. Potter. I believe we can test that further to see how much it would take to make you lose that self-control.”

“Yes, Doctor.” My lips were dry, quivering, but I knew my orders.

“All right. Now then, for phase two of the examination….”

Talk To Me Like The Rain and Let Me Listen

2009-06-18T23:26:00.004-04:00

Layla stretched out upon Egyptian cotton sheets and purred like a sated feline. Niccolo ran one long finger across the flesh between her legs and watched her arch. Truly a pussycat, this one, he thought.

Her secretive smile caused his groin to tighten and ache. She was a miracle of sensual beauty. A woman who would do all a man wanted; decadent, hedonistic things. With her hands. Her mouth. Just touching her breasts made him hard. Sinking into the sweet heat of her body was beyond ecstasy.

His fingers slid inside her moist flesh, flexing as she writhed. The smile never left her face and her eyes sparkled beneath half-closed lids.

"More!" Her murmur was an aphrodisiac. He pushed her onto her back, spread her legs and leaned down to taste. With lips and tongue he thoroughly explored her cunt. He repeatedly brought her to the edge of orgasm before her entreaties led him to take pity on her.

Thrusting his unbearably hard cock deep into her, he fucked her hard, watching her face as he did so. When she spasmed around him he redoubled his efforts. The sensation of her flesh clenching on his spurred him on.

"You are made for fucking, Layla. You feel incredible."

"More, Niccolo!"

"Your pussy is joy - I could stay in you forever. I dream of sleeping with my cock inside you, feeling you tight as a glove around me. "

"Oh, Niccolo - talk to me! Talk to me like the rain .... drown me in your words ... like the clouds have opened and I am soaked and wet and slick .... cover me with your voice!"

Her voluptuous voice and her breathless panting stroked him and he plundered her flesh maddened like a beast. Uncontrollable with desire. He wanted to consume her.

Then he broke like a thunderstorm, the lightening of pleasure smashing through his body until his cum flooded inside her, hot, liquid. He filled her with his life force and reveled in the joining of their bodies in the brutal, boisterous act.

Afterward, they lay entwined as the gauzy curtains wafted in the evening breeze off the water. Layla was limp beneath him, her heart beating a steady rhythm beneath his chest. Her spirit was strong. Her appetites voracious. Yet her skin was silken and her hands gentle.

"Sit up," she whispered against his lips. He rolled to his side and sat up on the edge of the bed as she slid off and down between his legs.

Her gaze on his semi-erect cock - he was never fully soft around Layla - was one of hunger and yearning.

She leaned over and ran her tongue up the length, suckled the broad head, her tongue tickling his slit. Sucking him deep once and then twice, she looked up at him and licked her lips where a smile played.

She paused in her suckling to smile up at him.

"Talk to me, Niccolo....talk to me like the rain and let me listen."

Shooting the Rocket

2009-06-12T09:05:00.004-04:00

Alexa hugged her Magnum 357 to her chest. She was huddled inside the closet of her target hoping to evade detection until her back-up arrived. The guy was such a loser – if he’d been watching the house he’d have spotted the perp returning and could have warned her. Instead in bopped the low-rent Lothario with his latest lady. Now they were doing the mattress mambo with great vigor. She was getting a little nauseous listening to the couple’s love talk.

“Oh, Big Daddy, that’s right, give Momma your love rocket – right there, baby!”

“You like that, little Momma? Like your honey box stuffed with Daddy’s meat, huh?”

The banging of the headboard drowned out the next few lines, thankfully. If her partner didn’t get here soon she was going to shoot herself in the head so she didn’t have to listen to any more. God, she’d never be able to have sex again if this kept up.

“YES! Take me to heaven, ride your Daddy hard.”

The sound of smacking flesh and Alexa realized someone was getting a spanking. This was really starting to get to her.

She loved getting her ass swatted as much as the next gal, but something about this whole scenario smacked alright – of a bad Hollywood movie script.

Sounds resembling rutting pigs emanated from the room. She sat inside the smelly closet shaking her head in disbelief. Where the hell was Jack? The nimrod was probably giving himself a hand job in the car while she suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune in this stinky closet.

Thank God, finally, her cell phone vibrated against her hip. She checked the number and smiled grimly. Jack must finished spanking the monkey and decided to get back to work. He was coming in. Fortunately for Alexa, while the man was dumber than a box of rocks, he was a great cop. Big, fast and great with a gun.

Easing to a standing position ignoring her knees screaming in protest, she cracked the closet door. It wasn’t in a direct line of sight to the bed so she stuck her head out far enough to see the couple was still heavily engaged.

Stalking quietly, gun in position, she got an eyeful of Momma and Daddy fucking like bunnies.

The woman was a voluptuous sort and her target had a hold of her and was banging her up and down on a rod Alexa had to admit was pretty impressive. Hell, if only it had been attached to her last date she might have had a better time. This guy’s cock was a monster and she couldn’t help but admire the ride that gal was getting. Crappy dialogue notwithstanding.

Alexa stepped up to the bed. The woman’s eyes flew open, she squealed and jumped off her ride. Little Mike (and now Alexa knew where that nickname came from) opened his eyes and stared straight into the barrel of Alexa’s 357.

“Boy, talk about coitus interruptus,” she said with an evil smile.

Hot & Sweet

2009-06-03T15:57:00.007-04:00

"Touch me," he said. He sat in the chair, his once powerful legs now slender and still. He couldn't always get an erection, but sometimes, we managed a bit of a stiffy.

But he loved to watch me. I was naked and I kneeled between his legs, my gaze reverent and my lips curved as I thought of the joy of sucking his cock as he held my head, urging me on with dirty words and gutteral moans.

We'd only been together since his accident. I'd known him for a year before. He had been the mechanic at my garage, and my trusty little Nissan always needed something. He'd smile and undercharge me and pat my dog on the head. Then he'd turn back to his next job, all serious and intense, determined to do the best work possible.

I heard about his accident in the drugstore. A young, angry woman had turned and pushed past those of us on the line at the pharmacy counter and the pharmacist had shaken her head, her expression one of annoyance.

"She was certainly in a hurry," I muttered conversationally.

"She's a bitch, is what she is."

I must have looked askance, because the lady pharamcist colored, and shrugged.

"She's the girlfriend of that mechanic, the handsome young guy from Mackeys?"

I held up my hands, ignorant of what she was talking about.

"He was in a car accident a few months back. He's paralyzed. In a wheelchair. The other driver was drunk and some congressman's son so he got off, but the poor guy's never going to walk again."

"I guess his girlfriend's not taking it well?"

"I heard her in the beauty parlor the other day bitching that she's expected to take care of him and she doesn't even get sex anymore."

I gasped, because it was simply that harsh a thought. That all the woman would be thinking of is her own gratification after her lover had lost the use of his legs.

The very next day I was at the hospital visiting my aunt Clara who had had yet another mini-stroke, and when I was directed to the physical therapy department where she was getting treated, I literally tripped over the man in question.

He was crying. Tears were still wet on his cheeks and I wanted to wrap my arms around him right then and there.

Behind him, out of the elevator, came the snippy bitch. Her face was red, and her mouth set in the thin line that says she's angry and not in the mood for anything.

Oblivious to me, she leaned over and hissed at him.

"You're useless, Brett, and I'm not gonna be tied to some guy in a chair who can't even get it up."

The shocking cruelty of her statement stunned me, and Brett stopped, mortified, and writhing in impotent rage. He watched as she stalked away down the hall and then swiped a swarthy, rough hand across his cheek.

"Sorry," he muttered and turned to head down the hallway.

On impulse I stepped in front of him.

"I'm Mary. I'm visiting my aunt but she's in therapy at the moment. Would you like to have lunch?"

"Pity for a crip?"

"Oh, fuck you." I was smiling as I said it to make sure he knew I was kidding, but then I realized the import of my expression. I blushed.

"As you probably heard, that's not likely."

"Look, I'm not the one to get pity from, Brett...?"

"Brett Holmes. You're Mary Stewart. '98 Nissan Sentra."

"You remembered?"

"I never forget a car. Or a well-stacked woman."

His comment might have been crude, but given the situation I decided to overlook it. Besides, it had been a long time since anyone had noticed.

"So, about lunch?"

"Why eat with me?"

"Why not? Are you contagious? Do you chew with your mouth open?" I grinned, cocked a hip, and watched his gaze roam over my body. I'm the stacked, old-fashioned type of girl. I fill a bra and I'm proud of it.

"OK. If you pay. I haven't got pockets on these things." He picked at the sweats he was wearing and I nodded with a smile.

That was six months ago. Right about the time he stopped his initial rounds of physical therapy he went back to work at the garage. He can't get under cars anymore, but the owner of the shop was happy to have his keen eye and his amazing ability with engines back. He directs folks and his specially-constructed chair can sit him up higher when he needs it. I spotted him while I was on the way to work one day and I pulled in to say hi. In the end I asked him out and after he wiped the look of surprise off his face he said yes.

He picked me up in his specially fitted truck and we've been together ever since.

I kneeled at my lover's feet and noted that this was going to be one of our good days. His cock was swelling and I grinned up at him before I leaned over and pulled him into my mouth.

His sigh was all the reward I needed.

Inflagrante Delicto.

2009-05-14T11:45:00.001-04:00

“Oh my God, there’s my Ex!” I gasped.

Now it is always an embarrassing moment when you run into that ex-lover, spouse, significant other – ex-whatever – but let me tell you, it is beyond embarrassing when you encounter them in a BDSM club and you are tied to a whipping horse, having your ass paddled enthusiastically by a hunky younger man.

Dimitri – said younger hunk and a wonderfully creative Dominant – turned to look. He smiled, and it was wicked and filled with evil glee.

“What say we give the old boy a good show then?” Dimitri, his name notwithstanding, is a Brit. He also liked to play seduce his best friend’s Mom, which we do quite frequently during “play time”.

I couldn’t get a really good glimpse of Larry because he had moved past the alcove at Pain & Suffering’s where D. and I were getting down to business.

Then D said loudly, “Prepare yourself Evangeline, for your Master’s wrath.” And he laid a few blistering strokes across my already-pinked ass cheeks. Then I heard Larry’s outraged cry.

“Eva?”

And then D began the full treatment. He flogged me mercilessly (he loves that I am such a pain slut and he can really wear himself out) but stopped frequently to “examine” me. I could just see his grin over my shoulder as he slid his fingers in and out of my oh-so-wet cunt, tweaking at the nubbin of my clit as he did so. I knew from his expression that Larry was observing.

I started to not care, particularly, when D’s thumb slid into my ass and I might have been drooling.

The flogging began anew and I was heading toward subspace, completely unconcerned anymore with where Larry might be standing, what Larry was seeing or anything else.

After a few brutal lashes, D came up behind me and I heard the zipper on his leather pants and seconds later his amazing cock was sliding into me and everything else just stopped mattering.

D is an amazing lover. Besides his Olympian attributes, he knows exactly how to get me on the edge and keep me at a fever pitch until I’m moaning, begging for orgasm. And that is exactly how he worked me, talking dirty to me for Larry’s benefit .

“You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you? There, baby, do you like that? A big, hard cock reaming your tight little quim? Bet you never had it so good, have you?”

Moments later I came, screaming. I was tied down so I couldn’t writhe, but my whole body quivered with the amazing waves of sensation that coursed through me.

Dimitri lay on top of me, panting. There was a smattering of applause from onlookers (permitted only on this level of Pain & Suffering).

His body, hot, slick with sweat felt amazing draped across my back and he nuzzled my cheek before whispering in my ear.

“You certainly put on quite a show for Larry…”

“Who’s Larry?” I sighed.

Just a little nookie...

2009-04-07T15:32:00.005-04:00

I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Dorothy looked down at the ratty little dog and saw him scratching his balls.

Cute. If the little bugger wasn't good with rats and mice she'd have dumped the flea bag overboard.

"Hey, hot stuff, whatcha got under that ugly dress? A little something something?"

Dot looked down into the smirking face of a midget. Shit. When she'd opened the door onto some bizarre Technicolor explosion there hadn't been a living thing in sight. Just a pair of withered up feet sticking out from under the house. Apparently, however, there were natives. And they spoke English. But the clothes? Like something out of a Disney movie..

"Get your hand off me you little twerp." Dot swatted the pudgy fingers away from her thigh, but the fellow dressed all in yellow merely chuckled and gave her a once over. His gaze was so lacivious she frowned.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" And she gave him a shove, knocking him backwards onto a funky looking purple bush.

Striding down the yellow brick sidewalk, Dot glanced around. To her surprise there were a whole slew of little folks coming out from behind trees and under bushes. Most of them appeared to me similarly midget-sized and holy crap, they were all smirking like the first one. They had hard ons making their little short tent up and a few were even rubbing themselves and grunting.

Cripes. It wasn't bad enough that the horny farm hands at her Aunt and Uncle's farm were always groping her, now she had landed in some weird world where all the guys were not only hard up but height challenged too.

Two or three of them crept forward and their little hands reads out for her, plucking at her dress. Toto snarled and snapped at one, bless the little mutt.

"Bet that's some sweet pussy under there, huh?" One repugnant little troll commented. He was actually drooling and Dot gave him a kick. Unfortunately he was faster than his roly-poly little body looked.

Then, without warning, a huge, bright flash caught her off guard. It was so bright and the attendant bang so loud she fell backwards and ended up sitting on top of the first one as he took the opportunity to rub his little dick against her ass.

Heaven help her.

Dot struggled to her feet as a giant bubble burst, showering her in a sparkling cloud. Standing in the center of the explosion was a tall, statuesque woman with brilliant gold hair piled high. She was holding a magic wand but what was most amazing was the black bustier and thigh-high leather boots, separated only by a leather thong that exposed a wealth of flesh. And the tool in the other hand which was cracked with evil intent as the woman smiled at Dot.

"Well, hello there. I see you've met my little slaves? Boys, have you been misbehaving again?"

"Holy freaking crap," said Dot.

HERS - Who wants chocolate when there's KY?

2009-02-16T18:51:00.002-05:00

“On your hands and knees.” His voice, deep, rumbling, almost scary, had me scrambling to do his bidding. Besides, I knew it was going to feel oh, so good.

I was naked except for the collar he always makes me wear – as his slave – when we are alone. I’d given him a most excellent blow job as his Valentine’s gift and now, I hoped, it was his turn to reciprocate.

When fingers, slick and cool with lube slid between the cheeks of my ass, I almost smiled in delight. He is so masterful when he fucks my ass. It makes me feel absolutely and utterly his like nothing else. Naughty, taboo. Bad slut who likes cock up her ass.

Then I felt the glide of the lube on a dildo being pushed into my pussy. Getting fucked by my Master while having a fake dick in my cunt was a rare treat. He knew it would send me over the edge faster than anything else.

Fingers slid into my ass, lubing, stretching, getting me ready to take his thick cock inside me where no other man had gone before. He’d been my first ass fuck. He’d been my first in so many ways. For a split second I thought I’d love to just have him hold me in his arms and tell me my Master loved me. But then those fingers plunged a little deeper and my mind refocused on the amazing feelings centered in my ass.

When he exchanged two fingers for the broad head of his cock I relaxed. I knew from frequent past experience that relaxation would be key to taking it all without pain. I love that pain that hurts so good, but nothing that keeps me hobbling for days, OK?

Tonight my Master M was feeling contrary. He said nothing. No dirty words of encouragement as he slowly impaled me. I was able to concentrate only on that sensation anyway, of being filled, inexorably, his hot flesh sliding deeper and deeper.

I groaned and whispered, “Please”, but he was doing his own thing. In another minute he was all the way in and then he started to fuck me. Slow and steady and building infitesimally in force until he was giving me a most amazing ass fucking. I was rocking forward with every thrust and the dildo in my cunt made everything so tight, so full, so awesome, that I was drooling and whimpering in just seconds as he really wailed on my ass.

Everything exploded. My orgasm hit me like a thunderbolt. Hot, fast, hard, everything just screamed in ecstasy. Every cell, every nerve lit up like fire and I quivered, shook and screamed some more. I could feel him pumping faster, his grunts telling me he was close. His jets of cum slammed into me, setting off orgasm number two until we were both coming hard and loud.

I felt Master’s beard tickle my ear.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my precious little slave.”

HIS - A Valentine's Gift

2009-02-16T18:40:00.002-05:00

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said as I fell to my knees. He loved me in the submissive position, ready to suck his cock, and I was going to give him the best BJ ever. I smiled up, then kissed the rounded mushroom head, licked the drop of pre-cum and went to work.

M’s cock is average length but thick and more than a mouthful unless you really work at it. So I did. My lips tingled as I stretched my mouth around and whirled my tongue to wet that silky velvet flesh. He groaned a little and I sucked and then dropped my jaw and tilted my head back and slid his organ into my throat. Back and forth, working toward that piston-Hoover action that got his nads in an uproar I worked his cock deeper and deeper until I was almost deep-throating – but its next to impossible. So I wrapped my hand around the thick base and squeezed and sucked simultaneously.

When his hands go into my hair I know he’s having fun. He was pumping now, hard and just a little bit rough – the way I love it. Sometimes he talks dirty to me, calling me his little slut and his cocksucker. Call me crazy if you want, but he makes me nuts, and gets my pussy slick and hot. But tonight I had him speechless.

Goody.

Everything was started to ache just a little – cunt, good, jaw bad. The salty, musky scent of him was all around my face as I worshipped his awesome flesh. After a pause to lick up and down the shaft, rimming under the head and tickling his balls, I slid his cock back deep into my throat, and upped the suction. Swirling my tongue into the tiny hole at the tip of his cock made him jerk hard. I felt his balls tighten under my palm and his hands tightened in my hair, pulling it just a bit – the pain adding to my excitement at servicing him like this. Naked, on my knees, his hands holding my head in place as his thrusts took the place of mine. I was truly his submissive little slut and I loved it.

“Fuck,” he grunted and then he came. I’m under strict orders to swallow him cum. He dreams of that, he says. But after the first few swallows of his tremendous load he pulled out of my mouth and spewed across my lips, before jerking the last stream across my chin.

“Show me.”

I knew what he want. I opened my mouth and showed him my cum-coated tongue and then I swallowed the last mouthful, before wiping the extra off my lips and chin with my fingers and sucking them clean.

His eyes were heavy-lidded and that possessive gaze that I love so much stared down at me.

“That’s my good little cocksucker.” He unclenched his hands from my hair and gave me a pat on the head.

Another blow job well done.

Hurts So Good!

2009-01-12T14:51:00.001-05:00

“Remember my safe sign is the “live long & prosper” sign.” She said, wiggling out of her thong. How decadent to be standing naked in front of a totally hot guy in leather pants. She looked at the tools he’d laid out and squirmed with pleasure.

“Yes. Come here.” He motioned her over and when she was in front of him, he shoved the ball gag into her mouth, hooking it around her head. His look was stern and really intense. He picked up the nipple clamps with their connecting chain, ignored her wide-eyes and snapped them on. She groaned loudly around the gag and some drool escaped. The pain dulled to a sharp throb and she straightened.

“Bend over.” He pointed at the spanking horse.

She walked over and did as she was told. He affixed her wrists around one pair of legs.

“Spread your legs.” He cuffed her ankles around the second.

He moved in front of her and grinned evilly, showing her the weight he held in his hand, just before he hooked it onto the chain between the nipple clamps. She moaned loudly, squirmed as much as she could and felt the delicious agony spread like a laser to her cunt.

He walked around behind her and slid his hand between her legs. She was dripping and a finger shoved between her slick lips nearly made her come on the spot. He wiped his damp finger across the cheek of her ass and she waited breathlessly for the next torment.

She was already on the verge of coming. And the fun had barely begun. He looked at his little sub, creaming from just a bit of bondage and clamps. He’d known she was a natural the minute he saw her at the club, where every week she’d let another Dom pick her out and torment her. He had wanted the curvaceous body and the great ass all to himself. Now that he had her he was going to work her so good she’d beg to be his, and only his. No more club scenes. He wanted her all to himself. Well, most of the time anyway. His buddy Rex wielded a mean flogger himself, and she did so love double-penetration. And she was a glorious little exhibitionist. Perhaps alternating blow jobs before they stuffed her full of cock?

“I hope you’re ready, my pretty?” Her head bobbled slightly in response. He grinned. She was such a pain slut. He had been hard for a week anticipating this scene. Picking out the toys.

He swished the flogger, delighting in the sinister whistle. He watched as she tensed. Another swish, another tensing. A few middling strokes to warm her up before he went to town on that sweet butt.

One downward stroke. Instant red stripes blossomed on the delicate white flesh. Another stroke, infinitesimally more power behind it. She groaned again, louder.

“Now we’re going to have some real fun.” And he grinned as he swung his arm.

Trust

2008-12-30T14:35:00.000-05:00

Trust. It was all about trust, Camille thought as she stretched her arms above her head – like a trapeze artist reaching for her partner, though in her case it would not be her partner’s hands clasped around her wrists, but rather the silken cords he dangled in front of her eyes.

Her gesture was her answer to his questions. Will you surrender? Will you submit to me? She had wanted to hear him ask those questions since the night of their first meeting. The private party at the BDSM club had been populated with elegant people – Doms and subs, tops and bottoms, Masters and slaves – all alone and looking to find the perfect partner with whom to live out the most carnal and captivating of fantasies. She had never before participated in a submissive role. But the desire had been there. Overwhelming, ever-present. Vanilla sex and relationships had left her distant and unfulfilled. Eventually she had abandoned all hope of ever finding a soul-mate, a partner who would help her to fly, to soar into the subspace she’d read so eagerly and longingly of. Who would teach her body and her mind to obey and revel in the sensual pains and the submissive role.

Now she was here. Jason had cornered her at the party. He had spoken to her briefly, watched her intently, and then made a date for cocktails the next evening. She had been breathless with anticipation until their rendezvous, and weak with disappointment when he called their evening to an end.

But he had escorted her home, kissed her palms, and held her face between his broad palms.

“Camille, I would like to explore this chemistry. You are a natural submissive and I would like to be the man who shares these first, virginal experiences with you. But the choice must be yours. You must give yourself to me willingly, without reservations. I do not play games and this is not a frivolous or casual offer. Should you accept me this will be a complete relationship. I do not just desire your body. I desire your mind, and your soul and that beautiful, generous heart of yours. I want you to be mine in all ways.”

She had begun to answer, but he had laid a finger across her lips.

“Do not be hasty. This is a most momentous decision. I want you to think long and hard. I want you to be sure. You will need to trust me, implicitly. Take your time to decide if you can do that.”

And he had left her, feeling bereft of his mere presence. The only times he had touched her – fleeting touches of her hands, wrists shoulder or cheek – had made her feel alive, loved, possessed. They had made her feel amazing. She had known from the moment he offered that she wanted all he was willing to give. And she had known it was the real thing.

Beneath him, she smiled and leaped into the chasm.

Vicarious

2008-12-26T15:19:00.003-05:00

Laine left her workshop and returned to the cottage the Corporation had rented for the event. She was drained from her presentation on the advertising of their product lines to alternative demographic groups and looked forward to a leisurely bath with some new Corporation products - lavender bath salts and a selection of herbal candles guaranteed to relax and renew.

She grabbed a bottle of a light red wine and after nibbling on some delectable fruits that had been delivered, she wandered into the spacious bathroom to fill the tub. She wore a feather-light pale cotton shift that was loose, cool and unrestricted. She realized that the windows were larger than she'd first noticed, looking out across the tiny paradise of her cottage lawn and directly onto another. It too was open and airy, but of darker wood, with broad windows and a masculine air. The windows were open and a smooth jazz could be heard wafting across the expanse.

When the tub was filled she slid off the shift and submersed herself into the warm, soothing water. Sighing, she reached for the wine.

The lavender did it's job, relaxing her aching feet and easing the tension in her neck. The Corporation had purchased a company specializing in sensual products and she had worked hard on the research that would make their advertising both new, and innovative - selling the product on a wholly different level than had been done before. They'd skimmed off the tacky product quotes and added new, sleek and simple marketing effects.

For her part, Laine had spent one too many nights with focus groups and research surveys. Too much talk about sex and not enough for her. The thought of sex caught her unawares and she suddenly ached for release. Her hand drifted through the pale violet water, reaching the slick folds of her pussy and she began to stroke herself.

She conjured up images of a broad male body on top of her, a thick cock stretching her cunt as her lover pounded deep into her. She spread her legs and arched her back and moaned as her fingers pierced her channel.

The sound of a bird call that brought Laine’s eyes open. She glanced out the window, saw a colorful bird flit away and her gaze fell on the second story porch of the opposite cottage where a man stood watching her. He stared directly at her, and Laine knew her body, and her actions, were on display for him.

Contrary to every fiber of her staid and straight-laced self, Laine smiled at him. She continued the sensual touch of her labia, arched breasts with pointed nipples out of the bath using her other hand to pluck at the tiny nubs.

When the orgasm washed over her, stronger, more intense than she had anticipated, she sobbed aloud, and her voice carried out, over the warm summer air, to wash over the man who watched her, his own pleasure a purely vicarious one.

What to do with a naked elf

2008-12-10T11:29:00.001-05:00

With a naked man, generally the first thing I notice is not the guy’s ears. But when they’re pointed? That’s an elf of a different color. And the guy standing naked in my bedroom sure as shit looked like an elf to me. Long blond hair, piercing ice blue eyes, tall, a slender but nicely muscularly defined body and pointy ears. Oh, and an impressive erection that any elven maid would covet?

“Goddess, save me, are you the Seeker?” His voice sounded like water over stones. Smooth and clear.

“The what?”

“I must find the Seeker. It is foretold that I am to impregnate her and she will bear the child that will rejuvenate my world.”

“Why would you think I am the Seeker?” I couldn’t keep from asking.

“You are who the Visionary bade me find. A woman of raven hair and violet eyes, curves the Goddess would envy and a mouth made for kissing.”

The way he told it, I sounded sorta like the Seeker babe in question. Then he threw me for a real loop.

“Are you not Philomena? The Visionary saw the name in his scrying mirror.”

Whoa. Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was me. Before I could ask another question, my elf visitor strode forward. Now my eyes were on his awesome weapon of love, and when he took me in his arms, I could feel it, as well as see it.

“We must consummate our love immediately, Mistress Philomena. The Ravens were fast upon my heels. Once my seed has been planted in your womb, they will be powerless until the babe is born.

His arms were around me, and his lips very close. He smelled like grass and sunlight and pine. Deep in the pit of my belly I felt the first curling ache of desire begin to grow. Then I realized that while I’d been staring at him, he’d begun to remove my clothes. T-shirt and thong, they didn’t take long and I was standing naked in his arms, that cock of his pressed against my belly. The ache had moved down and I was wet with wanting exactly what he offered. My mind didn’t seem to comprehend what was happening. Beyond him everything seemed rather blurred and hazy. He lay me down on the sofa, his gaze questioning. It felt like someone else nodded her head, but it was definitely me he slid inside. So tight it was near to pain, he filled me and with concentration he pounded into me. An orgasm flowed through me, monstrous in its power. I screamed and clutched him, almost unconscious. But then the opposite wall of my cute Victorian house dissolved in a wall of flame, just as my elf came hard inside me, the heat of his cum bathing the walls of my womb. A wave like cool electricity washed over me and the hoards that poised to leap into my bedroom disappeared in a howling rush.

Are those fangs or are you just glad to see me?

2008-12-05T19:00:00.002-05:00

It was the sweetest kiss in the world but when something sharp jabbed Lydia’s lip, she had to pull back. Was that blood? In the dim light of the dashboard she looked at her date and could see the light shining on, hello, fangs?! She started to struggle but then Vlad kissed her again. She’d thought the guy was a total hunk when she met him at Starbucks, and that really cool husky accent of his was awesome. With his black hair and black eyes and killer body, she’d jumped on the chance to get into his pants and when he asked her if she wanted to take a ride, she’d been so THERE.

Now she had to admit she might have made a teeney, weeny little mistake.

“Um, Vlad, I, uh, think I should be getting home now.”

“No. I want you to stay with me.”

“Gee whiz, no can do. Got laundry, need to wash my hair, you know all that human, I mean, girl stuff!” She tried to slide out of the car but he grabbed her hand. She yanked. Nothing doing. There was all that super-human strength thing happening.

“Come here.”

“Really, no, it’s been great…”

Then suddenly his hand was under her skirt. Inside her panties. His fingers were – wow, it wasn’t just super-human strength – how could anyone move their fingers that fast…

Then he pulled her legs over his shoulders and his tongue slid into her hot little love cavern and DAYUM!

After her second orgasm Vlad had (with superhuman speed) divested himself of his clothes and had buried a most amazing cock deep inside her pussy and was treating her to a series of blistering, mind-blowing orgasms that had her lying limp in his arms and drooling.

“I yearn to taste you … to feel the warmth of your essence flowing over my tongue…”

“Huh?” Lydia wasn’t thinking very clearly, but it sounded OK to her. “Taste me, touch me , whatever – just keep fucking me Vlad!”

Then the stinging pain in her neck got her attention. But as a wash of fear swept over her, burning passion flooded her. She’d never felt anything so powerful as the waves swept her. Vlad drank from her, each sucking pull of his mouth tugging hard at her cunt.

“Uh, uh, uh.” She fumbled at his arms, but he held her in a steely grip. Her head started ringing and for a minute she almost got scared. Then Vlad pulled back and looked at her.

“Now that I have tasted you, my sweet, you are mine.”

“Vlad, can we talk, I mean, I really like to tan and how can I put on my makeup if I can’t see my reflection.”

Vlad laughed and Lydia was puzzled, but then he grinned, flashing fangs.

“You’ll not be turned. I prefer you human, my love.”

Lydia decided it seemed like a great deal. Incredible sex, a totally hot guy and hey, she loved the nightlife, too!

“Sweet, Vlad!”

The Night I Got Stuck In The Elevator With Rocky

2008-11-08T23:37:00.010-05:00

Kenny dumped me on Valentine's Day and I really hoped his next date, I don't know, gave him Herpes or something. He was a smooth talker, and a lousy lay - to my inexperienced mind, anyway - although he always told me I was about as much fun to fuck as a meter maid (sorry, ladies, his words, not mine....if you ever catch up with him, feel free to use that nightstick on him ...). He ended up by telling me I was boring.

"You have no imagination when it comes to sex."

I went to work on Tuesday after having cried my eyes out (what was I thinking?) til 2 am in the morning. He had taken me out for a "fancy" dinner and broke the news to me that I was old news. He'd even let it slip that my replacement - younger, thinner, bigger tits, and, oh, yeah, RICH - had moved into his apartment. He'd had my things packed up by his maid (a new acquisition - I guess Young/Thin/Rich/Bitch does blow-jobs, but she doesn't do windows?) and they were waiting with the doorman. The loser didn't even have the cahones to bring the boxes with him.

At work the insanity didn't help me at all and by 5 pm I was a sodden wreck, crying, sniffling, and blubbering all over my desk. Not that anyone noticed. Especially my boss who seemed to think that my tears were an absurd infringement on his ownership of my focus.

By 6 pm he'd hit the pavement, leaving me with a huge list of calls to make, appointments to schedule and a bunch of agreements that he insisted had to go out "tonight".

Our offices had been recently renovated and there was still a lot of work to be done, so the place looked like a war zone and no one ever stayed if they could help it. Can you say 'cough, cough' asbestos?

So, there I was, all alone on the entire floor, when the lights flickered, and went out. Having toughed it out during the blackout of 2003, I'd collected my "disaster bag" and I was heading back to my desk to grab it, assuming the worst (grid meltdown, whatever - it looked dark outside and I figured I was going to have to rescue myself). Then the fire tower door flew open and a security guard barged onto the floor and, of course, right into me.

We unscrambled and I tried not to let my hands roam all over his really fine body, before leaping to my feet. Now, don't get me wrong, I knew I might have been forced to run for my life, but hey, it's not often a girl gets to grope such a stud. I had never met the guy before, or seen him in the building. But then again, the night shift changed with great regularity and given the number of thefts we'd had recently, and his size and, uhm, level of fitness, perhaps building management was getting serious.

"We've got a serious electrical problem in the building. You need to evacuate. What are you still doing here anyway? Didn't you get the notice about the test of the emergency back-up electrical systems?"

"Well, no, obviously I didn't or I would be out having a nice cocktail and bowl of peanuts, wouldn't I?"

"Hey, don't worry, I'll get you down safely." He obviously has a caveman in his family tree, but I wasn't picky. If he could show me way down (I mean out of the building - get your mind out of the gutter!) I wouldn't mind if his knuckles dragged on the floor.

He followed me as I groped my way back to my desk, got my disaster bag and my purse and scrambled after him.

"I've got the key to override the elevator shutdown, so follow me." And he led me into the elevator which had only emergency lights running and slipped the key into the slot. The doors slid shut, the elevator started to drop - and then stopped.

"What the?" My guard wiggled the key, but nothing happened. Then he tried his radio, but got nothing but static.

"I guess the emergency back up systems don't, ah, work?" I suggested. I was trying hard not to panic, but I am so not good in elevators. Claustrophobia, don't you know?

He noticed my fidgeting and slumped back against the wall.

"You aren't one of those screamers, are you?"

Suffice it to say he distracted me. "Screamer?" My little coochie got a sudden quiver.

"You know, if you get stuck in an elevator? Some ladies freak out."

"Oh, I thought you meant, did I scream when I ..." I decided it must be the fright of the moment that made me blurt THAT out.

He actually grinned for a second.

Then the radio crackled to life.

"Rocky, come in."

My guard angel spoke into the radio. "Christ, don't call me Rocky, OK?"

"Fine, Rockford, the back-up's gone down. I got the repair guy on the way, but it may be a while."

"You mean I'm stuck here?" I shrieked.

Rocky turned to look at me. He was so not happy. "What, do you think I'll pull a Bruce Willis and climb through the roof of the car?"

"No. Sorry." I actually blushed because I pride myself on my ability to hold it together when all the shit is hitting the fan.

"Look, it won't be so bad. We'll, uh, play a trivia game or something."

He looked like he knew that it had been a pretty stupid thing to say. But then I had my own really wild and crazy idea. I bent over and pulled out the bottle of tequila I had in my bag. I was hosting an American Idol finals party at my apartment the next night and I bought it at a cheap liquor store near the office to save the few bucks. Lucky me!

I waved it at him and said in a voice I didn't know I possessed.

"Sounds like a great idea. How about strip trivia - loser strips and the winner gets a shot?"

The elevators went back on an hour or so later. We'd, uh, sort of lost track of time. We had just enough time to jump into our clothes and wipe up when the doors opened in the lobby.

"Sorry it took so long, folks," the repairman apologized.

I tried to stifle my grin and sound casual.

"Don't worry. We found a way to pass the time."

Wouldn't you know it, Rocky turned out to be a real trivia wiz.

The Best of the Best

2008-10-14T21:45:00.005-04:00

Cissy and Brittany couldn't believe their good luck. The fan bus had been totally overloaded and the driver looked at the two cheerleaders and shook his head.

"You're gonna have to ride on the team bus. I'm over capacity and that's breaking the law."

"Aw, please, Mr. Consterhagen! We don't want to ride with all those boys!" Cissy effected a pout and Brittany did her best to hide her chortling.

"Girls, I'm sorry, but I'll radio the coach to wait for you."

Then the door closed and the two stood in a tizzy of anticipation.

"Can you BELIEVE it!" Cissy twirled around, feeling the chilly fall air swishing across the bare cheeks of her ass. She'd broken the cheerleading coach's rule and refused to wear the stupid old white panties that looked like something her grandmother would wear. Since she had come down with a cold she wouldn't be there to pull her out of the lineup and Cissy was all prepared with the lie that she just "forgot" the old fruit of the looms and had to make do with her thong! Yeah, right!

They hurried to the team bus and jumped on board to the cheers of the team. Nothing like the anticipation of a little coochy before hitting the field to get them all revved up.

The coach scowled, the girls preened and the boys cheered.

They scurried to the back and the coach got on his cell phone and that's when the girls went to town.

Or, rather, went down. Onto their knees. Several guys did their blocking thing, and the coach never heard the slurping, the sucking and the grunting as the dear little cheerleaders took several for the team.

He never saw Cissy with a cock down her throat, or Brittany licking cum off her chin.

And He never knew why his team whipped the other team's ass.

Because Cissy and Brittany had promised a tag team delight for the starting line if they won by 14.

Now THAT's school spirit!

Speak to me of dark things.....

2008-08-20T22:18:00.005-04:00

The wind blew harshly as Katarina stumbled slowly through the graveyard. She tried to avoid stumbling on the headstones but every so often she would trip, fall, sprawl headlong and scrape her knees and hands on the rough granite.

Still she crept, crawled, tripped along, looking for the one stone.

As the moon rose, full, bulbous, looking fat and swollen over the dark place, she found it.

With a cry, and a whimper, she fell to the ground and clawed at the earth.

"Are you looking for me, dear heart?"

With a shriek she fell onto her back and looked up into his face.

The beautiful beauty of him awed her. Her heart pounded and she reached out her hand.

"Lucien ....."

"Yes, dear heart, it is I. Did you think I had forgotten the love of my life?" His brows arched and his mouth curled in annoyance.

"No, no, I missed you - I could wait no longer - I love you...." Her tears rolled across her pale, pale flesh and Lucien smiled.

"I have come for you, dear heart, have no fear." And with a casual gesture he pulled her to her feet and raised his cool hands to her face. The touch on her flesh should have cautioned Katarina, but she was beside herself with grief. Grief, and lust. A burning desire for the man who had just days ago made her his.

"Touch me, please...."

"Oh, yes, dear heart, I will touch you." And he leaned forward, his lips parting as he loomed over her. Katarina sighed, and smiled, and felt the shiver that his touch always brought.

"Close your eyes, my dearest heart. And I will touch you ..... I will make you mine....." and as Katarina closed her eyes, her lips fell open in anticipation of the touch of his lips, his tongue.

His breath carressed her face and for a moment the miasma of death filled her lungs.

Then the sharp, sliver of pain slid into her skin like a touch of cool fingers and the beat of her heart surged.

As the moon slid beneath a cloud, Lucian drank of his dear heart. Katarina's eyes slid closed and her lips formed a gentle smile. As her last sigh issued forth, her words could be heard across the silent graveyard.

"Take me, my love....."

"I have, dear heart. You are mine now."

And in the morning, the cape that Katarina had worn lay discarded across a gravestone. The newspaper headlines bemoaned the mysterious disappearance of the young woman, as they heralded the new century.

Y2K had not happened. The world remained connected.

And in a graveyard a headstone was wreathed in a cape.

Lucian Douglas. Born 1789. Died 1830.

As the sun set upon the graveyard and the shadows loomed, a yearning cry was heard.

Birds stilled. The night swept in.

And Lucian and his dear heart arose.

"Welcome to my world, dear heart."

Katarina smile and the moon glistened upon her newest feature.

Meeting The Master

2008-07-19T09:32:00.018-04:00

Angelica was feeling naughty. No, in fact, she was feeling downright slutty. She wanted to get down and dirty with some guy and wipe all the aggravation of the day away in the euphoria of a nice heavy-handed submission scene. She needed some nice paddling pain to take her mind off her troubles.

Dressing in a decadently trampy outfit of a short plaid skirt and a black lace bustier with white thigh highs that looked wonderfully whorish with the black fuck-me pumps, she piled her red hair up with clips, put on lots of makeup, including the fire engine red lipstick that guys always liked to see smeared all over her face after a vigorous cocksucking.

She sauntered into the club about midnight and things were well underway. She knew most of the players - the same girls who liked to get their asses paddled, the boys who wanted a tough mistress to strap up their balls - and the masters - the men who searched out the submissives to cater to their particular needs. Angelica always got a little tingle looking over those men. Dominant, aggressive, alpha - they had no problem taking a dirty little girl and making her very very sorry she had been bad.

Saturday night was "Anything Goes" night. Newbies were warned away, told that the fun and games were intense and if they were only interested in playing, they should probably come back another night.

Angelia glanced around. The same masters that she usually saw had made their choices and were leading their subs for the night away to the play rooms. A few remained in the public areas because the excitement of performing in front of the crowd added to the thrill factor.

Angelica didn't care one way or the other. Sometimes the master who chose her would demand she take her punishment publicly, but she would just as soon he humiliated her privately. It was the dominance she reveled in, not the audience.

As she glanced around she noticed one particular man in the corner. Tall, broad-chested, he had long hair, a beard and wore black slacks and a black vest. And black boots, of course. The better for a little slut sub to feel on her back. She caught his eye. He stood a little straighter, smiled an evil, promising smile and strode toward her. She looked at the collar and leash in his hand and when he approached her and held it out, she merely bowed her head. Her pussy was tingling with anticipation and she knew that tonight was going to be something extra special. Once he'd hooked the leash, he turned and led her to the back of the club. Toward the special rooms that were filled with toys and props for the games. Her cunt clenched. Back here only serious players visited. She'd never been to these rooms but now she wanted more than anything to be inside .....

When the door closed behind her, her new Master pulled off his vest and she marvelled at the strength in his chest and arms. Muscle bulged, and that wasn't all that was bulging.

"Come here slut."

Angelica did as she was ordered and followed the tug of the thick chain leash. When she reached him, he dropped the leash and undid the bustier and pulled it off of her. He smiled at her hard little nipples and pinched one tightly in each hand.

"You've been a bad little girl, I think. Look how horny you are." He twisted her nipples and she groaned and grimaced. She loved the pain. God it felt good.

"Before I decide what your punishment shall be, we need to make clear just how completely you are mine." He let go of her nipples and undid his pants. Once he'd tossed them over the spanking bench, the sight of his thick, long, hard cock made Angelica's mouth positively water. He was hard as steel and his cock stood straight up, pointing due north, and reached his belly button. It was going to feel so lovely shoved in all her orifices. She wondered which one he would choose first.

"On your knees my little slut. Time to suck Master's cock."

With delight she lowered herself to her knees and leaned forward, lips parted and ready for her Master to fuck her mouth.

"Now be sure to take Master's cock all the way down - or you will be very, very sorry."

"Yes, Master." Angelica licked her lips and opened wide as the thick purple head was guided toward her waiting mouth. He slid between her lips and pushed deep into her mouth, until she gagged a bit before relaxing. Now this, she thought idly, was sheer heaven. She loved the taste of him, all salty, musky and dark. Like a fallen angel. He pumped slowly into her mouth, each thrust going a little deeper.

"You'd better start sucking, or Master will be very angry."

She began to suck, wiggling her tongue against the massive organ filling her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she put herself to work and he grunted in satisfaction and proceeded to really fuck her face.

Sucking as hard as she could, when he pulled back, she'd wiggle the tip of her tongue against the underside of the head, and then just swallow his meat when he shoved back into her throat. Before long it was not a matter of sucking or licking or wiggling, but just taking his cock down her throat as he pumped harder and faster.

"That's right you little cocksucker, take my cock deep in your throat. I want to gag you. You're just a hole for me to fuck deep, so just take it all. Your Master is enjoying his little cocksucker and will reward you later. Now, have some more."

He was thrusting deep and fast and Angelica was swallowing to get it down as he surged forward. She fought to breath through her nose, loving the absolulte debauchery of having a man's cock down her throat. After an especially deep thrust he grabbed her hair and yanked her head to his groin, forcing the cock completely into her throat. His pubes tickled her nose and he held her there for several interminable seconds before pulling out and letting her gasp a breath.

"I'm very pleased with my little slut sucker. I'd thought perhaps I'd make you swallow your Master's cum, but I think I have a better idea. Stand up, slut."

Angelica clambered to her feet, gasping, drool having run down her chin. Her lipstick was no doubt smeared all over her face. Her Master's cock was certainly smeared red.

"I like seeing your little slut mouth all smeared. Your lipstick looks good on my cock, no?" She nodded eagerly, aware of the glint of dominant sadism in his eyes, and yearning for more.

"Master wants to play some more with his naughty little slut. And Master's cock wants to bury it in her .... let's see, which nice tight slut hole should we try?"

Angelica's knees trembled. Her lust was overriding all other emotions. She wanted to feel her Master's cock deep inside her.

He gazed deep into her eyes and read her unbridled hunger, before smiling broadly, his teeth white in his beard.

"Yes, I think that's the perfect choice." He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her over to the spanking bench, roughly shoving her down on her stomach across the broad panel.

He clapped the wrist restraints closed on her wrists, and did likewise with her ankles. She was bent over, her legs spread, and her stomach quivered with anticipation.

When he slathered lube across her asshole and shoved a couple of fingers deep inside she moaned loud and long.

"Get used to it slut. Master's cock is going to be in there soon." After lubing her deep with his fingers he grabbed a medium sized dildo and lubed it before shoving it deep up her ass. She groaned loud now, the burning pinch and the sudden shock of being filled full of dildo unbearably good. He pumped the dildo in and out for a few minutes.

"I knew my little slut wanted to be fucked up the ass. You have the dirty little smile that tells me you love having your ass reamed. Don't you?"

"Yes Master, I love having my ass fucked, Sir,"

"I bet you like a really hard ass fucking, don't you?"

"Yes Sir, please, I love a hard ass fucking."

"Then this is your lucky day." He yanked the dildo from her ass and squirted more lube into her hole and then he was pushing his thick cock inside her, stretching her wide, wider than she'd ever felt. She luxuriated in the burning pain even as she whimpered at the impalement. He slid in slow and steady, no time to adapt, to get used to being so totally filled. He just slid in, further and further until he was all the way in, his cock stretching her ass to capacity and making her moan a steady stream.

"All right my little ass slut. Time to get fucked hard." And he pulled out and rammed in and then began a steady, hard pistoning into her ass that had Angelica squealing, begging, pleading, groaning, and urging him on.

"Master, please fuck my ass hard."

"Oh, Master is going to fuck your ass good and hard. My slut has a nice tight ass hole. It needs a good hard fucking. You like my cock up your ass, don't you?"

"Yes, please Sir, fuck my ass!!" and then she was coming hard as he reamed her, orgasms rolling over her in wave after wave, her ass clenching on his cock until he came too and she felt the flood of hot cum surge into her, heating her ass and letting him pound in once, twice, three last good strokes before he pulled out, cum still shooting out, to coat her ass hole and cheeks as the last of his orgasm wrang him out.

For a moment the air was filled with the rasp of the two of them panting. Angelica was wallowing in a state of submissive euphoria, her ass burning and throbbing and her orgasm still pounding in her flesh.

"Master believes that he will keep this little slut slave for his very own."

"Yes, Master, your slave wants to be yours and yours alone."

"It doesn't really matter, though, does it, slut, because you'll do anything I demand, won't you?"

"Yes, Master, anything."

"The perfect answer. We'll have lots of fun, won't we slut?"

"Yes sir. We'll have lots of fun."

Angelica smiled.

* * * * *

Later that night as she rolled over in bed, Angelica snuggled against the big bear of a man beside her. His arms had encircled her and she tucked her ass into his groin, smiling at the feel of his hard cock at her cheeks. It appeared he hadn't gotten enough of her. She breathed deeply of his scent and felt the calmness deep in her sould at his nearness.

His voice whispered in the night.

"Happy Anniversary, little slut."

"Happy Anniversary, Master."

"Do you like you gift, slut?"

Angelica peered through the dim light of the moon at the spanking bench that had been waiting for her in the bedroom. They'd broken it in that very evening. Her ass, in fact, still burned.

"Oh, yes Master, I love my gift! Thank you, Sir."

"You are very welcome, little slave."

Dear Sir

2008-07-12T23:17:00.003-04:00

In the dark, I yearn for you. I lay quietly, my eyes closed and imagine your hands upon me. You are stern and forbidding. Your rich, deep voice resonates through me as you issue your commands.

I can do nothing but follow. I am yours in all ways. I want to please you and pleasure you. I want to wallow in my servitude as yours. Your servant. Your slut. Your slave.

Despite my solitude, I receive your words as gospel.

You will take me. I know that. You have laid out the rules and have explained what will happen. You will abuse me with your most exquisite torments and gain pleasure from my whimpers and my cries. You will urge me to take your attentions and I will do so because I yearn for nothing more than to spread myself, prostrate, naked and wanting, before you.

I know what is to come. I have feared it. I have craved it.

I will bring the instruments of my carnal torments when I bring myself to you. You will lay them out and require that I choose. Shall I ask for the sharp, biting pain of the wicked flogger? Or the flat solid fire or your paddle? The paddle that you have lovingly created with your own hands, the better to train me with. Perhaps the split cane that will sting and burn as you wield it upon my willing flesh?

How will you feel, Master, as I bow beneath your strokes? As my body accepts your powerful mastery? As my flesh grows hot, sparkling with pain, beneath your ministrations?

I yearn for you. I long for the moment at which you will demand that I assume my submissive pose at your feet. The better, Master, to accept your next commands. The orders that I take your cock into my mouth. That I pleasure you with my skills as your cocksucker. That I accept your cum upon my lips as the most reverent of fluids. This will be my reward for having accepted, no, relished, your punishments.

What will be your pleasure, Master?

How may I serve you?

I await the moment of glory during which I will become your flesh, your body, your slave, your soul to command.

Good With His Hands

2008-07-11T17:44:00.006-04:00

Ever have one of those days? When anything that can go wrong, will ...

Monday was like that. I knew I had to be at work to prepare for a big Tuesday meeting, but when I climbed into the shower, the clanking, banging, hissing and the barest trickle of water told me plans had changed.

Calling the plumber meant calling work, too, and telling them I'd be prepping at home.

But see I have a thing about home repairs and my anxiety kept me from even opening my briefcase until the plumber arrived at around 4. Anticipating the usual butt-crack delight my plumbing company generally sends, I greeted, instead, a stud who looked like he'd just stepped off a Hunk of the Month calendar.

Tall, built like a brick shithouse with long black hair and big hands that looked like they could handle the toughest job, he also had a smile that inspired the naughtiest of thoughts in my oh-so-celibate brain. One that he bestowed upon me before sauntering into the house.

I explained the problem, trying not to drool, and he wandered off to do his thing in the bathroom. For my part I tried desperately to keep my focus on my work and not on the piece of work in my bathroom. No such luck.

By 5 pm it was getting dark and I'd lit some lamps and, having given up on work, I'd opened a bottle of wine. I didn't have a date that night (or any night within the next millenium) so I never got changed, but it was getting colder and I decided warmer clothing was in order.

Mr. Plumber had stuck his head out long enough to advise me that he'd be done within the hour, so I thought I would use the time to go change.

I had taken off my bathrobe and was naked and on my hands and knees attempting to pull a shoe out from under my bed when I heard a voice behind me.

"I've finished in the bathroom. Anything else I can do for your, uh, pipes?"

I was mortified and couldn't think of anything to do or say. Needless to say the thought that Mr. Stud was ogly my ass got my engine going. But fortunately my guy was a take-charge sort and when I felt a pair of hands reaching around my waist I only gave a little squeak.

"Just let me handle everything. I think I've got just the right tool for this job."

I was unceremoniously plopped down on the bed on my hands and knees and I heard a couple of thuds as boots fell, and then a zipper losing altitude and moments later a big, thick, supremely hard cock was poking at my ass.

I must have gasped, but Mr. Plumber laughed.

"Never had your butt fucked, babe? Well, let's wait and see. There's a first time for everything.....but let's start at the beginning. I'm a very thorough guy."

But instead he moved the head of his cock to my dripping wet little pussy and in a matter of seconds, I was impaled and being ridden by a master.

God bless home repair service!

Shot Through The Heart

2008-07-09T22:45:00.005-04:00

I wasn't prepared to lose him.

As the girlfriend of a cop, I assumed - gruesomely - that I'd lose him to gunfire or some horrid crime gone wrong.

I didn't even imagine that I'd lose him to his job.

"Just leave me the fuck alone,OK? I don't have time for high-maintenance."

He snarled at me and I choked back tears because I'm absurdly over-sensitive and Iknew that if I tried to speak I'd lose it and start to sob.

And I'm nothing if not proud.

So I walked out of the cop bar where we'd met and pulled my purse over my shoulder.

Things had been bad for a while, but I'd done everything I could to support him. A couple days before he'd been nasty and angry and when we had gone to bed he'd shoved my head into his crotch and forced my mouth onto his cock.

I'd cried and choked, but he came in my mouth and afterwards rolled over to sleep without a word.

I'd wiped the tears off of my face and didn't sleep a wink. He was gone when I got up but I sucked it up and decided I should be more supportive. I lost that motivation early on the next day.

He'd texted me to drop off his favorite pair of sneakers the next morning. He'd left at 6 and even though he knew I had an early appointment, he demanded my attention to his needs.

Sadly for him, when I got to the precinct, he was not prepared.

He was, in fact, up against a wall, doing a tongue tonsillectomy on a young woman from the squad. She'd been the temp assistant until the permanent gal left. He'd mentioned her because of her monster boobs. I'd thought he was making a humorous comment. Apparently he was praising the double DDs.

I walked up to them and threw his sneakers at his head. The girl gave a squeal, but my expression must have scared her off because she backed away and sneered at me.

"What the fuck?" He flung himself away from the wall but I held up my hand.

"Don't." ANd I turned and walked away from him, the doublel DDs and the precinct house.

There was nothing left to be said because I may be a doormat; I may put up with a lot of shit; but I don't do cheaters. He'd put his cock in some other hole and I was NOT going to deal.

There were a couple of his pals on the steps to the precinct house and they chuckled. He offered up a couple of "fuck you bitch" before he grabbed the girl by the arm and led her back inside.

I walked down the street and wiped tears from my eyes as I told myself I should be happy to be free of such a needy bastard.

I spotted the Dew Drop Inn and made the decision to head in for a drink. Normally, he and I frequented cop bars and I never got a word in edgewise. I was more like a chair that drank. Give me a glass and I'll stand quietly in the corner.

At the Dew Drop, though there were only a few men. No women. I should have felt intimitdated but I didn't.

I sat at the bar and ordered a gin & tonic. It was hot outside and I wanted something cool.

"Bad day, huh?" A guy sat down on the stool next to me and I glanced at him.

Shit.

He was tall, black-haired, black=eyed and he looked like he'd seen the inside of a jail cell. I know this because, well, I was a cop's girlfriend for way too long.

"Yeah. Shitty, actually." I tossed it off and didn't look back at him until I'd swallowed. He was watching my lips and my throat and he smiled a little when I stared at him.

Then I noticed the gun hanging from underneath his leather jacket. I sat up, leaned back and glared at him.

"Are you a cop?"

He looked straight at me and said, "Fuck, no."

"You're wearing a gun."

"I'm a paid assassin." He didn't smile and I didn't care.

"Oh, is that all?"

He looked me dead in the eyes.

"Yeah."

"OK, that's fine."

And then I went home with him and fucked the memory of that cop sonovabith right out of my mind.

Virtually His

2008-07-07T17:29:00.000-04:00

He was a dominant man and I was a submissive gal when we met on-line. Then we started speaking by phone, and it soon became clear that he knew exactly what pushed my buttons. One year later I was stepping into the airport in his Texas town and I saw him waiting for me, all in black. I’d known what to expect, but in person he was bigger and bolder than his pictures conveyed. And a lot more masterful. He swept me into a hug, all nice and proper, but he whispered in my ear, “Get out to my truck, girl, we’ve got some fucking to do.” And off we went.
When we talked about my visit, he’d warned he was going to spank me first, and after that get me on my knees to suck his cock. If I was good, he said he’d fuck me til I couldn’t stand up. The hotel was a few minutes away, but he wasted no time once he got me into the cab of his vintage 1988 Ford pickup.
“Pull up your skirt, girl and show me that sweet pussy.”
I shivered. He was incredibly sexy and so commanding I just about melted. But I did as ordered and loved the look of possession on his face as he stared at my snatch. He pushed a big calloused hand between my thighs and when his fingers slid between the slick, juicy lips of my cunt, I just about came on the spot.
“This is my pussy now, girl.” He stroked me hard and he leaned over and kissed me. Nothing sweet or gentle, no first time peck on the lips, he clamped onto my lips and his tongue shoved into my mouth and I was in Heaven.
He finger fucked me and kissed me and talked dirty to me until I was writhing on the seat.
“Your ass is gonna be mine, too. I can’t wait to get you bent over. I’m gonna paddle those cheeks hard, girl. I’m gonna make you beg for more, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” I was panting and he chuckled.
“Wanna suck my cock?”
“Yes!”
Then his thumb started rubbing my clit and all the months of e-torment, phone threats of spankings and cock-suckings, warnings that he was going to tie me down and paddle, cane, and flog my ass, fuck me senseless and keep me naked and in bed – I started to whimper and he shoved in a third finger.
“Come for me little pussy girl….let me feel you come,” he growled.
And then I did, bucking and groaning, as he grinned that wicked grin I’d only ever seen in pictures.
When I recovered from what was to be the first of many stupendous orgasms that week, I pulled my skirt down and put on my seatbelt. I looked over at my big guy, blushing, and watched him smile in undeniable masculine satisfaction. Then he turned to me and winked.
“Welcome to Texas, darlin’.”

Ready For Blast-off

2008-07-06T14:42:00.007-04:00

The bartender stared at me for over an hour. Not constantly, of course, but every time I looked up he was riveted on me. It should have made me nervous, but instead, baby, it made me way hot!

I'd been part of a bachelorette party that had gotten way too drunk and out of control for me. I moved away from the wildness to sit on the outskirts of the group and sip my drink. I planned to cab it home so I wasn't worried, but I also didn't want the whirlies in the morning, either, which all of the other ladies were going to have, in spades.

The bartender had been stoic throughout the night. Given his big, broad, strong physique and a face that would have made Brad Pitt weep with envy, well, he was a total grade A hunk.

"Would you like another?"

He was leaning over me and I caught a whiff of some delectable cologne that made my pussy twitch. That and the fact he had focused those big, dark eyes right on me. My tummy gave a little quiver, too.

"Another drink?"

"Unless I can interest you in something else behind the bar?"

"Oh, my." I knew my mouth was open, but he suddenly grinned and good god, I wanted to spread myself across the bar and let him do me right there. My friends would probably think it was part of the floor show.

"I get off in ten minutes."

"And if you promise to get me off in fifteen, I'm all yours." For a minute I thought the voice had come from someone else. Then I realized I wanted this guy buried deep inside my coochie, and humping me to heaven. Why deny it?

"Boy Scout's honor." He held up the three fingered salute and I had to take a deep breath.

"Kinky. I like that."

A few minutes later, there was a loud roar from my girlfriends as some male strippers appeared. I paid no attention. Because Rocco the Bartender had taken me by the hand after handing over the bar to his relief and was leading me to the storeroom.

Not a glamours place for a tryst, but when Rocco yanked off his shirt and dropped his pants, I decided ambience was over-rated.

He had a cock that deserved a medal and it, and his body, were as hard as I had expected.

"Show me your sweet little pussy and I'll rock your world."

I flipped up my skirt and flicked off my thong and gave a little wiggle. At the sight of my bare snatch he smiled like a wolf. One step closer and he was up against me, his cock snuggled against my pussy like heat seaking missile. He gave it a rub against my clit and I could swear I started to drool.

"Get ready for lift-off." His whisper was lurid in my ear but I didn't care because he took both hands, slid my thighs apart and then, hello, Houston, we were fully-fueld and - we had ignition!

His cock slid into my cunt like it belong there and he had tremendous, muscled thighs that let him lift me off the ground with every deep pounding thrust into me. He grabbed my hands and held them over my head and growled and grinned and grunted every time he shoved himself inside of me. I was panting and trying to appreciate every second of the tightness, the stretching, the damned force of the banging he was giving me.

I was tight and he was huge and it was only a minute or two before I was coming with a wail and I could feel my cunt creaming and dripping,but he kept up the pace, fucking me a little harder, his face tight with control.

"Come for me again, pussy girl." He muttered as he stared at me and when he shifted his hips a bit and his groin was rubbing roughly against my clit, I shot off like the proverbial rocket and then he went too.

The last lunge was mind-boggling and I saw stars as he rammed his cock in so deep I thought I was going to need a shuttle emechanic to get it out.

Then he slid my feet back to the ground, shoved his fingers through the cum and cream that was pouring out of me and stuck those fingers in my mouth. I licked them clean while he smiled an evil, satisfied smile.

"You love being bad, don't you?"

"You have no idea," I moaned as I struggled to stand on shaky legs.

He dropped my skirt back into place, snatched the thong and shoved it into his pants as he pulled them on, and then opened the door. I was holding onto a keg of beer while I regained my equilibrium and I was actually rather shocked that he just blew me a kiss and walked out the door, adjusting his dick inside his jeans as he did so.

Oh, well. A quick, hot fuck in the back of the bar might not have been the most romantic event ever, and I could tell I was going to feel a tad sore for a while, but I smiled with the thought that I had been well and truly fucked.

I adjusted my top and sauntered back to the club where the festivities were breaking up. The gals were so drunk by this point that they hadn't even noticed I was gone.

I smiled and high-fived them as the last stripper strolled away, his g-string loaded with bills, and I gave my girlfriend a hug as she showed me the hickey she had ill-advisedly allowed one of the strippers to give her right boob. I figured it would make for interesting honeymoon chatter, but shrugged it off. Not my problem, after all. And to tell the truth, I was feeling the let down that Rocco had been like the popular grammar book - he shoots and leaves.

Then I grabbed my wrap from the back of the stool I'd been sitting on and paid my bill with Rocco's replacement. When the guy handed me back my change he'd included a copy of the tab and I clutched it in my hand as I hurried after my friends.

It wasn't until I was in the cab on the way home that I unfolded my receipt to check the damage .... that's when I saw there were 2 pieces of paper. One I'd signed for the tab.

The other said, "Can't wait to get another taste of my sweet pussy. Tomorrow for dinner? Then dessert at your place?"

I grinned to myself as I tucked it into my purse, noting the cell number on the bottom and the signature.

It had been signed, Rocco. Boy Scout Troop 69.

Houston, we are go for launch!

Save Me ....

2008-06-27T23:19:00.005-04:00

Melanie watched the men as they crowded around her. Three of them. Tall, muscular, and eager. Their eyes sparkled and their smiles were feral.

"Wait, please!" She backed away and threw up her hands in a defensive possture.

"What, afraid?" The tallest and darkest of the three smirked. But then the smile faded and his eyes burned with intent. She was lost. She was alone and without help and these men were going to rape her, or worse .... kill her.

She couldn't stop the sob that spilled from her lips and she struggled backwards, deeper into the corner and the shadows, until she was completely and effectively trapped.

"She looks terrified, poor thing. Perhaps we should show her she has nothing to fear?" The second of the men gave her an innocent look, before throwing back his head and laughing uproariously.

"No, no, she looks like she needs a great deal of attention...." the third smiled with a cold intent and it was all Melanie could do to keep to her feet.

"There'll be no damage done." The TDH one said. But his eyes belied his words. A breath on the air, a pause, "Not tonight, anyway."

Then the three men grinned at her and descended upon her and in moments, Melanie had fainted dead away.

"Well, that was disappointing, I have to say."

Magnus scowled down at the unconscious woman across his bed.

Ian laughed. "You terrified her you fool."

Roarke grimaced at his two younger brothers. "She's human. What do you expect? And you scared the shit out of her and she spent the night in a room full of ferals, and good Goddes, what do you think she was going to do? Spread her legs and say, "ride me home, boys"?

He snorted and his brothers looked chagrined and he felt horrid.

Until he looked down at the blond, exquisite beauty of their captive bride.

And then he sighed, because he realized she had no idea that was her fate.

She was the Bride of the Brothers Grimm. Magnus, Ian and Roarke. Notorious among women for their lusty ways and among the feral crowd for their powers of death and control.

It was going to be a long night, thought Roarke. He sighed.

"Wake her up," he announced to his younger brothers. "She might as well get used to entertaining three cocks, eh boys?"

For My Master's Pleasure

2008-06-15T09:13:00.008-04:00

It all began with the words, "I agree".

What was I agreeing to, you ask? Well, let me tell you. I handed myself over to a most wonderful, dominant man, who had offered to take me under his wing as a submissive slave. He had excellent instincts and when he corresponded and talked with me he immediately divined my sluttish little need to submit and, voila! Here I am, a ready, willing, and able slave to my Master.

Now, you may wonder what this means? Does it mean I fetch his slippers and cook his meals?

Not so much.

Allow me to elaborate on just the sort of things I do for my Master.

He is a physically imposing man and I wallow in the sense that I am smaller and weaker and utterly under his control. I must follow his commands immediately if I do not wish to displease him. And I don't. Besides, providing him pleasure is what gives me the most incredible pleasure of my own.

Perhaps a sample scenario would clarify for you? Glad I thought of it.

My Master is quite voracious in his appetite for my cocksucking. So this is always something that I will be required to do and, quite honestly, enjoy immensely.

I wear a collar when we are together, which reminds us both of his mastery of me. Generally we will start with a nice hearty paddling to get me into the appropriate, servile frame of mind. Nothing like a tingling red ass to keep a girl's mind on her Master's needs!

Once my Master is ready for my attentions, I assume the position. On my knees, of course, as any good cocksucker will tell you, works marvelously.

"You may begin." or "Now, slut." will be my command to take his wonderful cock in my mouth.

Now if you are thinking, "eeew, I don't want to put that thing in my mouth!", then girlfriend, you don't know what you are missing. Big, hard, silky soft skin, tasty and powerful, his cock in my mouth is a delight for me. I love to wiggle my tongue around and explore all those sensitive areas that make my Master groan. I know I am doing a good job of it when he grabs hold of my hair and begins to get forceful and dominating.

And don't I just love it!

It is a wonderfully submissive experience to have a man fucking your mouth. Not so much for you to enjoy but rather for him to enjoy. In the right position, with the right amount of practice and a good dose of relaxation, a cock can go a long way down.....

And if the pleasure of being allowed to suck and lick his cock isn't enough? When he is ready to erupt, my Master insists that I accept all of his delicious semen. Rather like a wonderful reward for my diligent efforts. Swallowing is fun, but my Master, oh he loves to see his little slave's tongue and lips covered with cum. I eagerly savor it and oops, look, I got some on my fingers.

Well, I can't let it go to waste now, can I?

Mmmmmm.

Well, time to go. I've got a nice hard butt fucking coming.

A good slave's work is never done.

;-)

Live & Learn

2008-04-28T23:12:00.000-04:00

I took the most incredible on-line workshop last week. A delectable gentleman who spoke honestly and at length about the fine art of BDSM. He, and several compatriots, drew back the curtain on the psychological and the physical of the masochistic, sadistic, dominantion and submission, kink and fetish world of the wildly sexually adventureous.

Toys and playtime? Scene and safety?

All I can say is, where can I get some?

What Were They Thinking?

2008-04-06T22:17:00.000-04:00

OK. So I am going all reality on you here.

I mean, really, truth is SO stranger than fiction.

There's Bill Clinton. And "Monica". Before him there was even the sillier Gary Hart (a girl on his LAP??? get real!) And Jimmy Carter ("lusting in my heart"). But Bill seems almost quaint and tame once we get to Craig "Twitchy foot" and the Intern email lust monster (I can't even remember his name and why would I waste the time?) and the list is endless of religious zealots and their little love monkeys).

Then Came Spitzer. Sounds like a TV movie? Or a blockbuster, even. But the skeezy dude and his pay-as-you-go dates pretty much sums up the US problem. Attention deficit disorder.

That's why marriage is on the way out. Guys can't focus for longer than it takes to shoot their wad!

The Madam mentioned all the kinky things the Gov had been up to (and if keeping his socks on is the height of kink, Madam, I've got some stories for you ....)

But just when I thought it was safe to get back into the "swinger" of things, up pops the new governor (play on words intended).

David, David, David. What were you thinking, Dude? Sure. I can see that blind guys the world over are cheering - you get high, you get laid and you get the GOVERNOR'S OFFICE! Way to go!

But honestly. In the real world, who do you know that gets this much nooky?

Are these guys really getting blown, and laid? Do they have these gnarly babes all over them or is the NY Post blowing things all out of proportion (couldn't resist, sorry).

And what are your neighbors up to?

Bad Girl

2008-03-25T22:10:00.000-04:00

"You're going to be punished. You're a very bad girl."

He took me by the hair and dragged me down the stairs. Most people would have called it the basement. I knew better. I knew what it was. What he had made it. It was the dungeon. His Dungeon. And it was where he would punish me. Mercilessly. Wonderfully. Painfully.

"Strip." He shoved me into the middle of the room and began removing his wide, thick, leather belt.

"But I didn't..."

"No excuses! Or your punishment will be worse. Do you want that? Do you want me to go to the Closet?"

I didn't, so I did as he ordered.

I pulled my sweater over my head. I'm not allowed to wear a bra because he always wants to be able to see my big breasts moving, bouncing, with their hard nipples poking at the fabric I wear. Then I pulled my skirt down. Of course, I'm not allowed to wear panties, either. Every morning before I leave the house he inspects me. In the beginning I didn't believe him. And I felt weird, so i tried to disobey. I wore panties, but he cut off the first few pairs. Then he punished me. In the kitchen, in broad daylight. So naturally I tried hiding them in my backpack. But he knew, somehow, and he checked. Then the punishments got really bad and I had to leave the house with my ass bright red and so hot and sore I couldn't sit down on the bus.

Now I know better. I had no panties on. When I pulled off my skirt he could see my bare pussy - he waxes me himself - he loves the pain of pouring that hot wax on my cunt and making me take it. Besides my bare pink pussy lips he could see the ring from the dildo that he'd shoved up my cunt that morning. It's remote and he is a genius with electronics so I was being punished all day long. He made me come right in the middle of a budget meeting and I had to pretend I was sick to my stomach. Can't have all the attorneys knowing I'm enjoying a remote fuck now, can I?

Then all I was wearing was my thigh highs and my tall pumps.

"Turn around." I did as I was told, though I knew I would be begging soon for mercy.

"Bend over the bench." It's a flogging bench that he designed, full of all sorts of special little amendments that help him punish me.

"Spread your legs." I did although I knew what was coming.

"I warned you this morning but you ignored me. You disobeyed me. I'm going to show you how I punish bad girls who break the rules."

"Please, Master, don't..."

"It's too late for that, isn't it?"

He went to the Closet and I knew I was in for it. He could work me for hours and when he was hot, like he was now, it meant I was going to be worked over, but good.

He strapped my ankles to the legs of the bench. Then he clamped my arms, spread wide, to either of the poles he'd attached to the sides. My breasts were pushed tight against the padded flogging bench, but I was spread so wide I couldn't have moved to relieve the pressure if I'd wanted to.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but perhaps you'll learn from this punishment that what I say must be obeyed."

"Yes, Master."

I felt the cold lube shoot into my asshole from the lube gun. That's when I knew just how much I was going to have to bear. I liked ass play and normalliy he'd use my juice or his come to lube me up. The real deal meant major ass punishment. I should have known because he'd been talking about my ass for days - about how bad I was, and about how much I needed to be shown what he could do to me.

"If you don't do as I say, this will only hurt worse. So follow my instructions."

I felt the big, blunt head of a dildo at the entrance to my ass. Naturally I tightened my sphincter in fear. To no avail.

"I'd advise you to relax." And he began to insert what he called the Monster. I knew that's what it was because it immediately stretched and burned as my hole was penetrated.

"You are not to come. Do you understand me? No matter what I do to you, you control yourself. Or else."

Or else was the most daunting term he used. The last time he'd implemented the 'or else', I hadn't been able to sit down for a week and his three best friends had shared in my punishment. Imagine an ass-fucking round-robin and you have some idea.

I was being filled, the huge thick dildo penetrating so deep up my ass that I was gasping and panting.

"There. That is the beginning."

He reached between my legs and tightened the straps that held the dildo deep and in place. But when he shoved his fingers into my cunt and pulled the remote bullet out, I got weak in the knees. It was definitely going to be a DP night for me.

"I can see that you are not repentant in the slightest. Obviously I will need to be very severe with you." And then I heard the squeak of the Closet as he went back for another tool. He could have oiled the doors, but this way I had the expectation after hearing the squeak, of knowing he was choosing his tools, letting me anticipate my punishment.

And suddenly he was back with a duplicate of the Monster, this one a vibrator, covered with little nubs and a flared, penis-shaped head that was tough to take on my best day. I'd never had both of them inside me before.

He rammed it up my cunt with a brutal stroke and I moaned, loud and long as my insides were stretched nearly beyond endurance.

I expected to feel the vibrator turn on immediately, but I was wrong, again. He moved around in front of me and pulled out his cock. It's big, long and when it gets hard it is fearsome in the extreme. He uses it on me to command me, to show me his mstery of me and, truthfully, I crave it. But tonight, there was only one way he was going to make me take it. I knew that suddenly and I quailed.

"Open wide, you bad girl."

The sweet sting.

2008-03-23T18:53:00.000-04:00

I dreamed of him that night. It was dark and dangerous and the winds howled. His face had been in my mind for days. But when the lights went out and the sounds died, except for the majesty of the power of nature, I felt more.

I had tossed and turned, the candles had burned low and the restless night had kept me from the nirvana of sleep.

I crept from my bed and wandered the house, waiting for something I could not identify or name. Wishing for more than I knew. The echoes of a voice that was not familiar rang through my head. And my flesh ached for touches ... not soft, not gentle. My flesh craved his touch. Brutal, harsh, demanding. Wringing from me the screams of agonized ecstacy as my body responded to the torment he so willingly and exquisitely dished out.

"Sleep." A voice seemed to whisper. "Sleep and I will come to you." It urged me back into the dense darkness of my room as the height of the storm burst upon the house. Shutters slammed. Trees bent in agony. Winds buffeted the shingles and all around the howling of the elements raised my libido to an unheard of pitch.

I lay back upon the pillows, amid the cool sheets and closed my eyes.

"Ask for me and I will come."

I breathed deeply, and the scents of sulfur and smoke filled my lungs.

Somewhere a fire burned. Lightening had wreaked its havoc upon a house, or a stand of trees.

The acrid smells itched and tingled.

"Call me."

I breathed again and a cooler smell, of damp earth and the richness of stone, flowed into my lungs.

"Give your need a name."

"Please!" The word slipped from my lips as I writhed against the sheets. My flesh craved, desired, needed ....

"Say the words..."

"Come to me...use me....take me"

When the next sounds came they were the laughter of a dark soul. He stood over me and the dreams did not do him justice. From beneath black brows dark eyes gleamed. Cruel lips curved into a smile and in his massive hands lay chains and bindings, and whips.

"At last. I have waited. Your call is as a key unlocking the depths of my hungers."

He approached and I knew that the time had come to submit. To give in to the cravings of my flesh and my body."

"Shall I begin?" He asked, in a soft and gentle vioce that rained upon me as icy snow. One step more and I would feel the depths of the exquisite torments he would bestow.

"Begin...."

With that there was no further sound, there was no laughter or scent. There was merely the feel of his lash upon my skin as he struck me. Again and again until I begged and pleaded for mercy. With that one cry he screamed his power.

He plunged instruments within me. Large and brutal they impaled me. My limbs were stretched wide and tied down. My breasts offered up as subjects for his brutal touch. My cunt a mere vessel for his powerful rage.

Heat, cold, ice, torment. Again and again I withstood his ministrations.

"Shall I continue? Do you wish for more?"

"More!" I begged as my flesh wept in blood and fluids as his hands twisted and teased, pinched and slapped. Candles dripped above me. His strength gave him patience. I endured as he continued. Plunging into me, stretching flesh around his as I screamed and begged.

"More!" came my cries as he plundered my orifices. Deeper and harder he came inside me. And the night became as fire as he used me. As he pleasured me. As he showered his torments upon me.

As he loved me.

It was a dark and stormy night ...

2008-03-06T23:31:00.001-05:00

I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. That's why I drove off the road and into a muddy ditch in the wilds of Massachusetts. I should have had a map, I should have had a flashlight, but I had neither.

I climbed out of the car and even with my minimal automotive knowledge I knew I was fucked. The back drivers' side wheel was bent at an angle. Not conducive to driving.

So I grabbed my briefcase and my overnight bag and climbed back up to the road and started to walk. The small B&B was a few miles ahead, if the GPS was correct (and why would it be? My life was a disaster and nothing else went right!)

In keeping with my Karma, the heavens opened just as I wandered into a wide open stretch of road without trees for cover. I kept trudging but in twenty minutes - about the time I saw the lights - I was a drenched mess.

"Hello?" I swung open the door and immediately spotted candles set throughout the lobby of the small quaint house. There was a faint sound of classical music - violins - wafting throughout the dim space - but no humans to be seen.

I dumped my bags at the registration desk (so identified because of the book, keys and an old fashioned quill pen). In fact, the entire place seemed like a set from a Merchant Ivory film. A bit dusty. Old fashioned.

My head had started to ache, but I persevered and followed the sounds of the violin and now a piano that I could hear. A few more feet and I realized that it sounded live, not memorex.

I called out a few hellos, but heard nothing in return. Then I came around a corner and into what could only be called a music room. A great grand piano stood in the middle of the space and at it sat a man of elegant proportions. To the side another man stood, a violin beneath his chin and his long, black hair thrown over his shoulder as he bowed dramatically at the strings.

I stepped forward and caught my breath at the beauty of the music and the majesty of the men.

They stopped playing simultaneously. Both turned to look at me and I was mesmerized by twin gazes of azure and obsidian.

"At last," said the violinist.

"We've been waiting for you," said the pianist.

And the headache dissolved and my clothes disappeared and I stood before the two clad in a black lace negligee that smelled of age and mildew.

And they pulled me into their arms and I sighed.

Oh, my....

2008-01-26T18:27:00.000-05:00

He's going to spank me.

He says I've been a bad girl. I've misbehaved. And I'm going to feel his hand heating up my naughty little ass.

My panties lie around my ankles and he is bending me over his knees. His lap is broad and his thighs are strong and I know that he will be able to hold me down, no matter how hard I struggle or squirm.

And I'm going to be squirming.

His hand slides my skirt up. I feel the breeze of the open window as it wafts across but butt. He strokes my flesh as he prepares to give me my punishment. He makes me wait for the first blow, anticipating, waiting, wondering.

I get a spanking once a week. I have always transgressed and I know he'll have to redden my cheeks for me.

It never fails.

Lying across his lap I know he is going to be very hard on me tonight. Because he is very hard beneath me. That is always the sign that I'll going to really pay for my bratty misbehavior.

His hand comes down. Smack. Hard and tingling. But not nearly as hard as I know it will be. Soon. Next. Or the one after.

Again. One more. Another.

I am gasping. My ass is heating up. My flesh burns where I know the imprints of hiw wide palm are even now coloring up, nice and pink. Soon there will be so many imprints they'll blend together and then it will be impossible to tell how many I've hand.

He makes me count them. I squeeze out a tear and I count the next. Then I have to concentrate because they are coming fast and furious and if I lose count we start over.

Sometimes I lose count on purpose.

A lull. Momentary. I hold my breath.

His hands smooth over my tingling skin, soothing, squeezing. When he grabs a handful of ass and squeezes, hard, I gasp. Then I hiss as another blow falls.

And they continue.

But then another respite. His fingers push between my cheeks. They slide down, tickling, between my legs. I'm wet. I'm dripping. He knows how hot it makes me when he spanks me. He teases me. He slides a finger into me. I'm so wet I can hear the slippery sound as he lazily finger fucks me. Then he pushes in another big long finger ...

Have I mentioned how big his hands are? He's a very big man. He works with his hands and they are rough, scratched, calloused. I can feel those callouses as he pushes the two fingers in and out.

I'm very very tight. Because last night he told me I needed it rough. So he gave me an ass fucking that was one for the books. Whatever book keeps track of those things.

As I said, he's a very big man.

And I'm what they call, "petite".

My petite little ass is throbbing now because he's back to spanking me.

His fingers in my cunt had made me whimper and he was not about to let me enjoy myself just yet. He goes back to punishing me in the most delicious way, burning my butt with those powerful flat-handed swats.

Soon I'm writhing on his lap. I think I might be able to get some mercy if his cock is so hard he needs to fuck me and forget about spanking me.

But he's very focused.

Then, all of a sudden, I've counted thirty.

My punishment is done. My rear is aflame. My cunt is quivering. I'm breathing deeply.

And I can't wait for next week. Because I'm going to be naughty again.

I just know it.

A Long Hot Summer Day

2008-01-21T18:36:00.001-05:00

Just One Of Those Things

2008-01-17T22:05:00.000-05:00

She was horny. That was all. She didn't mean to be a slut. She just wanted some good lovin'. Her plane had been cancelled, damn the weather channel and their crappy predictions. She had watched the board as the dire news rolled down, flight after flight after flight. As "delayed" became "cancelled" she watched. She was all alone, in a strange town with no hotel rooms left, and hours to wait. The book she'd picked up had been naughty, not nice, and she was hot and bothered as she sat in the hard plastic chair, squirming, just a little, as she thought naughty thoughts of her own. Beside her an angry man screamed at his wife, his children, his travel agent and his shrink. Across the way a family of homicidal maniacs in training annoyed the shit out of everyone in the vicinity. After three hours she lost all patience and grabbing her laptop and carryon, headed for the dark of the airport bar. It wasn't one of the large international airports and the bar was commensurate with the rest of the place. It was tacky and tawdry and the waitresses looked like Hooters wannabes. All plastic tits and cellulite asses hanging beneath red velour shorts.

She had plastic too, but it was in her wallet and she whipped it out to start a tab.

"Why not just drink myself into a stupor," she thought as she ordered up the first thing that came to mind, a Tequila sunrise - shades of college boyfriends. She sipped the lukewarm drink - a snowstorm but no ice, she lamented - and listened to the Celine Dion song from Titanic, whatever the hell the name of it was, that a sad looking woman played without interruption on the jukebox.

"You stuck here, too?" She stopped drinking and looked at the man who'd sat down next to her. Surely she was dreaming, because guys like this one just didn't exist. To say he was a hunk was to say Brad Pitt was mildly attractive. He wasn't in a suit, and he looked the worse for wear. But quite frankly, she didn't care.

"Stuck in hell, yep." She tried for laid back, to match his slouch, but she was starting to drip.

"You're not from here, huh?" His mechanic's uniform was the key to her calculation that he was an employee, rather than a traveler. All the better. He might have a home nearby.

"I'm from a galaxy far far away. New York, to be precise." He laughed at her witty retort and she added another start next to his name. A stud and a sense of humor. When she caught herself looking him over, she blushed. But he smiled and it was one of those smiles that said, lady, you are so going to like what's coming.

"Guess you couldn't get a hotel room, huh?" He moved his knee into her space and she wanted to grab hold. Of his knee, or whatever.

"Hell no. It was like the second coming of Christ at the hotel. And I'm not one of the wise men."

"Bet you'd do anything for a room, right about now." He spread his legs and slid the stool closer and she checked out the big bulge of his cock in his pants.

"Bet you I would." She said and the dripping became a torrent.

"What would you be willing to do?" He slid his hand onto the bulge and squeezed.

"Why, I would be willing to get down on my dainty little knees and suck that horse cock of yours all the way down my throat." She batted her eyes and smiled demurely.

"Well, that would be worth something, I guess." He feigned a look of uncertainty and she spread her legs for him.

"If you held my head and refused to let me go, why, you could probably make me swallow all your cum, too."

He was looking up her dress and she was thankful that she'd slid off the annoying little thong during her last trip to the restroom. This way he could see her puffy pink cunt oozing. Nothing, she thought, like motivation, and she slid the skirt up a bit. In the dimness of the bar, there was no likelihood of witnesses, not that she cared particularly.

"Nice pussy," he said, and he reached out to stick a finger into the wetness. He sucked hard on the juicy digit and popped it out of his mouth with a grin.

"Glad you like it. It's pretty tight cuz it's been lonely. Maybe if you promise me a bed, I'll let you shove that big old thing of yours right inside it."

"That sounds like a plan, but I have a lot of energy. I might need some more incentive."

"A big dick like that I bet you would. I suppose you'll want me to do something kinky, won't you?"

"You mean like maybe bend you over and spread those sweet cheeks of yours and pound my cock up your ass?"

"Something just like that."

"That would be worth a bed, I guess."

"You guess?" She was starting to wonder if she was going to have to go down on her stud in the bar, not that she wouldn't, but enough games were enough.

"See, the problem is, I've got a roommate."

A moment of silence passed as she contemplated the lovely possibilities.

"Hey, no problem. Consider this a two-fer."

By sunrise she had been fucked hard and long and had fallen asleep with a smile. Her jaw ached from sucking cock and swallowing cum. Her cunt had entertained two big rods and her ass had been royally reamed. The two-fer simultaneous fucking had been a first, and a second. But of course, they had wanted to switch places, and, after all she was a team player! She rolled onto her back and her boobs showed whisker burn. The sound of a 747 jet engine roared as she slept, the little trickle of cum from her holes dripping down onto the sheet.

The Midnight Hour

2008-01-11T23:48:00.001-05:00

Silence permeates the night. I am alone and thoughts of dark desires swirl around me. I think of the keyboards flashing in the night. Chat rooms filled with lust that oozes into the darkness. Women searching for men. Men searching for women. Couples searching. What sorts of desires? Touching. Taunting. A woman wants more than she can ask for. She wants to be controlled. She wants to submit. A man wants to explore. How can he say what he feels? Decadence. Taboo. Dark desires. Pages shuffle. Magazines stuffed between cushions. Flesh swells and throbs. A woman lays on her pillow and her hands stray. Her flesh weeps. Dark desires. A man sees a woman in a bar. She looks. She stares. Her hungers are there for all to see. Will you come explore with me? She wants more than she can ask for. Where is the limit to my desire? Where will desires lead. Into the sun? Beneath the sky? Or behind closed doors. Dark desires.

Memories filter through. A woman recalls a boy, his flesh smooth, his body taut. She was young. She was wild. He made her feel wild. She no longer feels wild. But she wishes to. She wants to feel the power of youth. She wishes her flesh knew nothing of the carnal. She wishes to learn anew the feeling of being one with another, of being plundered and borne away on a rush of ecstasy. Where is that young boy and his desire? Are his desires dark now? Does he recall that night? The softness of the night sky above them. The richness of the earth below them. Her desires are dark now. Are his? She closes her eyes and tastes him. His body and his seed. Upon her lips she can taste it. Upon her flesh she can feel it. Inside her she burns for it. Dark desires.

The midnight hour passes and moves toward dawn. Hours left for the suffering of the flesh. Hours of night to reach for the unknown. Moments to savor his touch. Countless seconds to feel the need. Dark desires.