She snatched up the phone, breathless with nerves.
“Nick!”
“In the flesh. Or at least I wish I was. How was book group?”
“Oh, well, we got to talking and didn’t get around to discussing the book.”
“Should I be afraid to ask what you were talking about?”
“I guess there’s no harm in telling you that you and our sex life was the primary topic of conversation.”
“Why am I not surprised? What is it about ladies getting together that it always ends up being about sex.”
“What else is there?”
“Sports?”
“I can’t quite see the various female Professors of English and Economics waxing on about the vagaries of competitive sports.”
“Your loss.”
“Really? We ladies can be quite naughty once we get going. In fact we had a very illuminating comparison of sexual implements that you probably would have found educational.”
“You mean you talked about sex toys.”
“Exactly.”
“Interesting. So did this conversation get you all hot and bothered? Do we need to take care of that right now? What are you wearing?”
“Give me a minute.” She put down the phone and peeled off her clothes with a tipsy giggle. “Okay. Ask me again.”
“What are you wearing, Professor?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s my girl. How about you pick out your favorite toy and make yourself comfortable.”
A few minutes later she had eagerly pulled out her favorite vibrator and lay stretched out on across the sofa, the phone cord stretched to its limits.
“What have you got there?”
“My vibrator.”
“Is it one of those little bitty things or is it one of those monsters.”
“It’s a big one.”
“Excellent. Put it in.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
She rubbed the head of the silicon vibrator between her legs. She was already wet. Just thinking of him had made her slick. She slid the vibrator in, relishing the twinge as she stretched around it, still wonderfully sore from hours of sex with him the prior night.
“Is it in?”
“Yes.”
“How does it feel.”
“Good – but not as good as you feel inside me.”
“Close your eyes and imagine it’s me.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve got my cock in my hand and we’ll play together. Now just lie there and enjoy yourself and I’ll do all the work.”
“Mmm. All right.” She turned the vibrator to its lowest setting and the humming inside her made her purr.
“Sounds like you’re happy?”
“Yes.”
“I’m stroking my cock. I’m hard for you. I’m going to fuck you so hard, Professor, so hard that you scream. Will you
scream for me when you come?”
“Yes. I’ll scream.”
“I’ll make you scream. How about I fuck you in my truck? Make you bend over the tailgate. I’ll pull your pretty little panties down and your sweet little cunt will be dripping for me. Won’t it?”
“Yes.” The vibration began to push her slowly towards an orgasm. But his words were the catalyst that made her sizzle.
“I love your ass, have I told you that? It’s beautiful and round and soft. I loved spanking you and I’m going to do that again, right now, before I shove my cock into your tight little pussy.”
She was panting a bit into the phone. Her hand was shaking and holding it was difficult. But his voice mesmerized her. Low, and intoxicating, he drew her into the fantasy.
“I want to fuck you so bad, I can’t wait to get inside. I don’t care if we’re outside where anyone can see us. If they do, they’ll see me pumping into your sweet, gorgeous hole. They’ll envy me because I have you all to myself. No one gets you but me. Do you like that, Serafina? The thought that I own your body, that no other man is allowed to touch you?”
“You know it does.” The erotic thought of being watched as he controlled her, impaled her, outside where anyone might see, was unbearably erotic and she turned the vibrator up. She closed her eyes and imagined the scene, him with his clothes on. Her dress tossed up and her panties down around her knees as he shoved himself into her hard, grunting with effort. She drew up her legs and her toes curled on the sofa as she fought to keep from orgasming. It was too much fun to be led by him.
“I’m not wearing a condom. I want to feel your hot flesh clutching me, milking me. I’m going to come hard, inside you. I’m going to fill you up.”
“It will feel so good.” She began to piston the vibrator deeper, adding the thrust to the twisting motion of the tool. Her hips were moving and she crept closer to coming.
“I will spew inside you. Then I’ll take my cock out and it will be coated with our come. Yours and mine. Then do you know what I’m going to do?”
“No.” Harder she thrust the tool and turned it to the highest setting and began to moan.
“My cock is so hard for you. Even after I’ve come I can’t get enough of you. I want more of you. I want to come in every place in your body. I’m hard and I push right between those sweet cheeks of yours – your ass is marked with my hand all over. You screamed when I spanked you and now I’m shoving my cock up your tight ass and you’re screaming again. If anyone is watching, they are seeing me shove inside your tight ass, I’m fucking you hard. Harder and harder. When I come this time I’m shooting up your ass. You’re filled with my cum. When I pull out I can see you dripping with my cum. I keep you bent over so I can enjoy the sight. Your spanked cheeks, your juicy little pussy and your ass is mine now too.”
His words were guttural and choked and as she came and thrashed on the sofa, her muscles clenched and the vibrator buried deep in her spasming cunt, she heard him grunt, groan and curse and knew he’d come with her.
Even apart they were perfect together.
Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts
Monday, October 7, 2013
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Lise Horton's WORDS OF LUST .... Take 1 - A Wicked Excerpt to Whet Your Appetite!
On Wednesday night, Serafina lay relaxing in the warm, scented bath, her eyes closed. Her double class load was wearying, and Nick kept her off balance. She needed the soothing interlude to hopefully calm her whirling thoughts and allow her to get a good night’s sleep, before another manic day on Thursday. She and Nick hadn’t seen one another since Sunday of that week. They had several more dates after the run-in with Elizabeth Parker, and she’d been relieved that there seemed to be nothing about the woman’s snide remarks that bothered Nick. It was now only the third week of their acquaintance, and Serafina was utterly and completely addicted to Nick Stellato. His touch was intoxicating. Thoughts of him filled her head constantly, distracting her at the most inopportune times. Going for three days without his touch felt like a withdrawal.
Relaxing after a long, hectic day, however, she luxuriated in the tub and allowed her thoughts to stray to Nick. She kept replaying in her mind the scene between them in his truck on the occasion of their first date. She recalled the breathless intensity of that evening, and she could not resist temptation.
Her hand drifted through the water, reaching between her legs thinking back to that erotic night. She remembered his mouth over hers, nibbling, licking, kissing, exploring even as his hand slid inside her panties and touched her. The throbbing she’d felt inside was deliciously unbearable. That night she’d been desperate to have him inside her but he’d just subjected her to a glorious torment that lifted her up, all while making her crave so much more. He’d slid his fingers through her wetness, then slowly, inserted one fingertip inside her, then another as he’d moved with infinite gentleness. When his calloused thumb suddenly touched her clit, she’d writhed beneath his hands as his kisses grew more insistent until she’d moaned. She’d reveled, too, when he uttered a guttural groan that made him sound like a predator, a man enjoying his mastery of her body, pleased and possessive.
Then his fingers had plunged completely inside her, thick, and stretching her hungry flesh She’d panted and trembled. His movements had grown faster and more forceful and the sense of being invaded had pushed Serafina closer and closer to the sweet abyss. He’d stroked her, urging her on with his words, his movements, the feel of his kisses and his hand on her breast. The idea that she’d lain there, spread for him, with his hand stroking the most intimate part of her though they were fully clothed and out in a public place had lit the sizzling fuse. When the wave of heated orgasm flooded over her, she’d been swept along in the amazing sweetness of clenching muscles.
Now the memory of his touches, of the decadence of the act overwhelmed her and her fingers plunged inside her cunt as a wave of orgasm spread from the core of her throughout her body and she lay shivering, as she had lain and shivered in his arms in the aftermath that night.
WORDS OF LUST by Lise Horton. Release date September 9, 2013. E-book available from Carina Press and at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Kobo and Apple.
Words of Lust is Lise's erotic romance debut novel set in NYC. Serafina Luca & Nick Stellato come from different worlds. But lust – and love – conquer all. Release date is September 9, 2013 from Carina Press. For more titillating excerpts, visit her blog http://lisehorton.blogspot.com/ or for additional updates, stop by her website www.lisehorton.com . Lise has releases in two Ravenous Romance anthologies and under her erotica pseudonym, Lydia Hill, her short story “My Master’s Mark”, will be included in the 2014 Cleis Press anthology, “Slave Girls” edited by D. L. King.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Dream Lover
by Lise Horton
Eleanora closed the door to her small chamber and sighed with exhaustion. Gently lighting the single candle sitting atop her bedside table she stood and stretched sore and aching muscles. The day had been a long one and dinner with the joyous bride and groom celebrating while she toiled alone in the grim kitchen had left her suffering the pangs of loneliness and yearning.
Slipping out of the soiled garment she’d worn, she poured a slight amount of the chilly water into the bowl and hastily washed herself, shivering in the cold night air that shifted uncomfortably around her as the wind stole in through the cracks in the wooden planking of the garret.
Pulling her threadbare nightdress over her head she wrapped her arms about her frame and stood for a moment looking out upon the new fall of snow that blanketed the dreary yard beneath in a sparkling cover of purity. The sliver of new moon shone feebly over the snow and shadows were rife. The quiet of the night enhanced her sense of sadness and finally she stepped away, turned to her solitary bed and slid beneath the covers, finally relaxing as her body warmth heated the cocoon.
Midnight came and went and Eleanora twisted fitfully in her sleep. Her dreams fractured and the images swirled and the dreamscape was a misty greyness brightened only by a distant point of reddish light that pierced the gloom.
Warmth, then heat, began to pulse from that point of light and in her dream, her nightdress filmy and flowing about her ankles, Eleanora was drawn toward it. She reached out, but suddenly the world beneath her feet disappeared and she was falling.
“Save me!” her thin cry of despair echoed in the mist.
Then strong hands caught her. She was clutched against a hard body and warm arms encircled her. With a grip like velvet steel her savior cradled her. Soothing hands stroked her flesh and in the blink of an eye she was naked. Her flesh pulsed with awareness as the hands touched her, growing bolder and more demanding.
She lay spread across a bed, the sheets beneath her body soft and clean. Atop her lay a hard male body, his face framed by thick waves of midnight black hair, but his features hidden from hers as his seeking lips caressed her face, her neck, and then down, down, until that hot mouth found the tip of her breast and wicked teeth, then tongue feasted on her flesh. Her body began to writhe as wondrous sensations coursed through her. His hands squeezed and teased and titillated her skin, touching here, then there, growing more intense. Between her thighs fingers probed, testing her, plunging deep until the juices of her desire, unfamiliar but ah, so welcome, flooded from her, scenting the air with want.
As the air grew warmer, then hotter, as her flesh began to tingle with the heat, the bone deep cold of her existence melted away. Arms held her, hands caressed her. The man atop her, thickly muscled and heavy pressed down upon her. His thick male flesh parted her thighs. Hot and hard that flesh pushed between those now damp lips and stretched her, impaled her, filled her until she screamed with the pleasure as he came into her. Harder, then faster, deeper he forced himself into her as her tender body flowered open to the sharp impalement.
Sharp nails began to scratch at the skin over her breasts and she felt the wicked tongue pierce her mouth, searching. The kiss grew feral and her own hunger grew apace. Their bodies surged together and the pulse of need swelled. Her flesh trembled, her breath grew short as the man – as her anonymous lover - possessed her, taking from her with rough demand. Into her he thrust, at her mouth he fed. His nails scored her and she relished the sharp pains that grew until they were all encompassing. Her body throbbed and her spirit strained for a glory she could not name.
When the guttural roar filled her ears, as the man surged forward and poured his hot seed into her she felt the rush of ecstasy fill her, heard her own scream echo through the dreamscape and then – just before the iron grip loosed her and the weight of her lover vanished, a whisper sliced into her ear.
“Mine.”
***
What a strange dream, though Eleanora as she opened drowsy eyes the next morning. Pale light from the dawn filtered into the room and she lay for a moment, rousing herself from slumber.
Her cheeks pinkened at the memory of her erotic night fantasy. Her tempestuous dream. Yet her body felt tight, and sore, and there was an odd stickiness between her thighs. Frowning, Eleanora could make no sense of it.
But there was work to be done. Solace found in dreams was a fancy she had no time for. It was back to the weary existence she’d known for so long.
Rebraiding her hair, she stepped before the wash bowl and the dim glass, and pulled off her night dress. She’d wash quickly before dressing again and then …
…Eleanora stood transfixed before the glass. Rather than the pale, naked body she glimpsed every morning, a wanton stared back.
Her lips appeared swollen. Her breasts seemed fuller, rounder, their peaks hard and ruched. For the first time she noticed her waist flaring to lush hips, and the dark patch of curls that guarded her feminine core glistened.
Her eyes widened. The memories of rough hands on her body were immediate – no dreamy touches, vague and elusive, but harsh and demanding, claiming.
Leaning forward, peering closer at her reflection in the mirror in the grey morning gloom she touched her breasts. They ached. There, the marks of teeth. And there, a long red scratch. Below, on her stomach, bluish bruises, the imprints of fingers marred the pale white of her skin.
And between her thighs the telltale wash of blood stained her. Her heart began to beat faster. What was this madness?
Her mind whirled, but suddenly, just as the sun peeked over the Eastern horizon, a heated whisper washed through her very soul.
“Mine!”
Friday, August 10, 2012
If You Can't Stand The Heat ....
“Lay down.”
Camille raised an eyebrow at Jackson. “I beg your pardon?”
“Take off your dress and lay down on the table.”
The last customers had been long gone. The entire staff had left. Camille remained, alone with her new tempestuous chef, Jackson Cole. They’d had words on several occasions during the first services of the new restaurant.
During the last argument, he had leaned in, grabbed her by the neck and to her shock and altogether too pleased surprise, kissed her hard. Then he had growled in her ear.
“I will get my revenge. Count on it.”
He stood in front of her, towering at six foot five, broad shouldered, his arms crossed over his impressive chest. His eyes blazed and while he didn’t look mad – he looked dangerous.
“I told you there’d be payback.” He walked forward, trapping her between the table and his imposing form. “Now. Take. Your. Dress. Off.”
For some inexplicable reason, Camille lifted her hands to the buttons that ran down the front of her brand new, sleek and sexy royal blue dress. The one that matched the graphic in their logo, and the stripe on their china. One after another she slid them through the buttonholes until her dress gaped and her pristine white push-up was exposed.
Jackson swooped down. His hands clasped her around the waist and he buried his mouth between her breasts, nuzzling and kissing before taking a soft mouthful and biting.
“I’m hungry.” He then pulled her dress down her arms, and with a tug, yanked the remaining buttons off. Lifting her effortlessly, he picked her up and sat her down on the table. Swiping one arm across the table he pushed all the cutlery and plates to the floor with a crash.
“Jackson!”
“Quiet. I don’t like noise while I eat.”
None too gently, he pushed her backwards on the table, pulled her thong off and smiled down. Taking an ankle in each hand he spread her wide, and then looked up into her eyes.
“I’ve been planning on feasting on you for days. But I think we need a little something extra spicy here. Planting each foot, still clad in her heels, on one corner of the table, he pointed one finger at her. “Don’t move. Or I won’t let you come.”
Camille didn’t budge. She was suddenly breathless and the entire absurdity of the situation occurred to her but oddly, she just didn’t care. The sexual tension between her and Jackson had been ratcheting up every day that they worked – and clashed – together. Now he was just overwhelming her and while her common sense screamed at her that she was insane, this time, just this once in her life, she was going to take a walk on the wild side.
“Now this will be just right. Gonna tingle a little, but you know how I like my food hot and spicy.”
Then he bent over her and drizzled his specialty hot sauce right onto her. The liquid dripped through the moisture and instantly she began to feel the burn. She started to twitch, but Jackson slapped her right between the legs.
“Don’t move, I told you.”
Then he put his mouth on her.
He wiggled his tongue, ran it up and down the length of her labia. Insinuated it into her with a wicked movement. She could feel his tongue – feel him licking her inside, feel the stinging, sizzling burn of the hot sauce as he lapped at her. Everything was thrumming, throbbing, liquefying and she was panting.
Then he spread her wide with two fingers and thrust his tongue deep, probing, and retreating, and sucking and the feel of him rasping over her clit, swiping the hot sauce across that needy little bead of flesh until with a suddenness that overwhelmed her, the orgasm slammed into her. Writhing in his hands, her back bowing as the jolt hit her groin, then spread throughout, her stomach, her breasts, right to the very tips of her fingers until it felt as if her entire body was one tsunami of orgasm.
And Camille decided that she would be fighting with Jackson Cole on a regular basis.
Then he lifted his head, looking at her with a devilish grin as he licked his lips.
“Mighty fine. This should be on the menu. Pussy Diablo.”
Camille raised an eyebrow at Jackson. “I beg your pardon?”
“Take off your dress and lay down on the table.”
The last customers had been long gone. The entire staff had left. Camille remained, alone with her new tempestuous chef, Jackson Cole. They’d had words on several occasions during the first services of the new restaurant.
During the last argument, he had leaned in, grabbed her by the neck and to her shock and altogether too pleased surprise, kissed her hard. Then he had growled in her ear.
“I will get my revenge. Count on it.”
He stood in front of her, towering at six foot five, broad shouldered, his arms crossed over his impressive chest. His eyes blazed and while he didn’t look mad – he looked dangerous.
“I told you there’d be payback.” He walked forward, trapping her between the table and his imposing form. “Now. Take. Your. Dress. Off.”
For some inexplicable reason, Camille lifted her hands to the buttons that ran down the front of her brand new, sleek and sexy royal blue dress. The one that matched the graphic in their logo, and the stripe on their china. One after another she slid them through the buttonholes until her dress gaped and her pristine white push-up was exposed.
Jackson swooped down. His hands clasped her around the waist and he buried his mouth between her breasts, nuzzling and kissing before taking a soft mouthful and biting.
“I’m hungry.” He then pulled her dress down her arms, and with a tug, yanked the remaining buttons off. Lifting her effortlessly, he picked her up and sat her down on the table. Swiping one arm across the table he pushed all the cutlery and plates to the floor with a crash.
“Jackson!”
“Quiet. I don’t like noise while I eat.”
None too gently, he pushed her backwards on the table, pulled her thong off and smiled down. Taking an ankle in each hand he spread her wide, and then looked up into her eyes.
“I’ve been planning on feasting on you for days. But I think we need a little something extra spicy here. Planting each foot, still clad in her heels, on one corner of the table, he pointed one finger at her. “Don’t move. Or I won’t let you come.”
Camille didn’t budge. She was suddenly breathless and the entire absurdity of the situation occurred to her but oddly, she just didn’t care. The sexual tension between her and Jackson had been ratcheting up every day that they worked – and clashed – together. Now he was just overwhelming her and while her common sense screamed at her that she was insane, this time, just this once in her life, she was going to take a walk on the wild side.
“Now this will be just right. Gonna tingle a little, but you know how I like my food hot and spicy.”
Then he bent over her and drizzled his specialty hot sauce right onto her. The liquid dripped through the moisture and instantly she began to feel the burn. She started to twitch, but Jackson slapped her right between the legs.
“Don’t move, I told you.”
Then he put his mouth on her.
He wiggled his tongue, ran it up and down the length of her labia. Insinuated it into her with a wicked movement. She could feel his tongue – feel him licking her inside, feel the stinging, sizzling burn of the hot sauce as he lapped at her. Everything was thrumming, throbbing, liquefying and she was panting.
Then he spread her wide with two fingers and thrust his tongue deep, probing, and retreating, and sucking and the feel of him rasping over her clit, swiping the hot sauce across that needy little bead of flesh until with a suddenness that overwhelmed her, the orgasm slammed into her. Writhing in his hands, her back bowing as the jolt hit her groin, then spread throughout, her stomach, her breasts, right to the very tips of her fingers until it felt as if her entire body was one tsunami of orgasm.
And Camille decided that she would be fighting with Jackson Cole on a regular basis.
Then he lifted his head, looking at her with a devilish grin as he licked his lips.
“Mighty fine. This should be on the menu. Pussy Diablo.”
Friday, April 15, 2011
Old Boyfriends, Old Cars
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!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time
“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.”
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.”
Friday, September 10, 2010
Stolen Nooky
“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.
“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.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Tale of a Summer Interlude
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Not Your Kids' Fairy Tale
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.
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.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Menage a Cinq - Lust In Space
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.
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.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Talk To Me Like The Rain and Let Me Listen
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."
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."
Friday, June 12, 2009
Shooting the Rocket
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.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Hot & Sweet
"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.
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.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Vicarious
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
What to do with a naked elf
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.
“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.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
The Night I Got Stuck In The Elevator With Rocky
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.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Best of the Best
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!
"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!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Good With His Hands
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!
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!
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