Sep 282014
 

Todd and Courtney. Quarterback and Head Cheerleader. Prom King and Queen. They married out of high school without ever knowing a thing.

Todd was lucky enough to be the eldest of the Tucker Brothers. All he had to do was play it straight and his Dad’s construction company was his. He worked hard every day to support his new wife and new life. He brought home a paycheck. He was responsible. He loved Courtney, almost blindly as young love sometimes is.

“I hate touching this dead chicken!” Courtney squawked from the kitchen.

“It’s not dead, Court. It’s raw.” He chuckled a little bit.

“Oh my fucking God! I…I don’t even! Oh my God, my nails. I hate this…fatty stuff. Why is this bumpy? ….Is this flesh?!” Courtney’s hands tore away the clammy skin of the bird.

“Uhhhhhhhh!” She whined.

“I’m sure it is, babe. Chicken’s got skin on it. You can wash your hands.” Todd was trying to zone her out . His crew finished early on the job site he ran. A few of the guys were headed over to Milt’s. Todd came home, took a shower, and hit the couch for the highlights of the games he missed. He wanted a little downtime.

“I can’t wash the Sam-o-nilla off. You can’t even see that. It comes from dead chicken. I hate Sam-o-nilla! It’s probably all inside this …..FAT!” Courtney continued to cut away at the tendons.

“Sam..ohhh….what? Court, you’re not the first person to handle a chicken.” He turned the television up a few decibels. He gave into the depression of another missed opportunity to relax. All because he married a drama queen.

“I’m not ever doing this again! I hate the way it feels. It’s too hard. It’s chicken out of a can from now on. I don’t care.” Courtney went into full fake crying mode. The chicken was in a pan. The pan went into the oven with a lot of dramatic slamming.

“Hey babe?” He was moved towards the door for his boots. He slipped them on and walked into the kitchen to see her cupped hand pushing chicken fat into a plastic grocery bag. He leaned against the doorjamb and smiled when Courtney looked back at him.

“Babe? I’m gonna run over to Milt’s. I’ll be back.”

“Be back before this chicken is done. And don’t eat anything over there. You’re eating this chicken, Todd!” Courtney yelled after him.

“Hey man!” Milt was happy to see him. Todd was ushered in and offered a beer by Milt’s wife. Milt married up. He talked his old lady into walling off the dining room for his office. Milt’s “office” had hand-me down recliners and someone’s college couch. It had speakers scattered around and a television the size of half the room. The place was a dump, except for the television, and the beer. Todd loved it.

Todd was getting comfortable in one of the old recliners, settling in with a beer to watch an actual game. A few of the guys were talking about money they had on the upcoming play-offs. Everything stopped when the door opened. The room lit up with a bright white light. Milt’s wife slipped in and dropped off a tray of meats and cheeses. She refilled the ice bucket with a six-pack and took out some empties, silently. Once she left everyone began talking where they left off. Milt looked around.

“Sorry guys, she’s supposed to knock before she comes in here. I’ma have to spank her ass for that one, huh? I bet she thinks I’ll forget. Dex. Remind me or I might forget.”

The room burst out laughing, and then Dex kicked in about his own wife.

“I had to beat Karen’s butt black and blue the other night for talking back.” He shook his head back and forth.

Robert asked if either of them had ever used a switch or a paddle. Todd took this all in for about an hour. He thanked the guys for the night, Milt’s hospitality, Milt’s wife as well. He had a hard time looking her in the eye on the way out, knowing what she had coming to her.

Todd came home to find Courtney with wet hair, just out of the shower. She was in the same mood he left her in.

“That chicken was horrible. The inside wasn’t done, but the outside was white. All that work was wasted. It wasn’t even safe to eat. I hate cooking! Just so you know, I’m never touching a dead chicken again!” She didn’t have time to dress. She was still assaulting her hair with a towel. Todd reached for her waist, turned her around and bent her over his knee. He gave her ass a smack with his hand, then another, and another, stopping only to speak, then smack again.

“You hate everything!”

*SMACK*

You complain constantly!”

*SMACK*

You have a shitty attitude!”

*SMACK*

Todd realized he had to go all the way through with it.

“All of that is about to change!”

“Todd! No! Stop!” Courtney squealed and kicked her feet. Her bottom was being held hostage. It hurt. She couldn’t believe he spanked her. He stood up and pulled her face-to-face.

“You will change your bad attitude or continue getting spankings. My bet is that you’ll probably have more coming.” Todd smiled down to her.

“This isn’t fair! You’re bigger than me. It hurts my butt.” Courtney coughed up tears to go with her red bottom.

“It’s supposed to hurt, baby. It’s a punishment.” He cooed down to her.

They were silent for a moment. She nuzzled her face in his chest, pouting.

“Todd?”

“What, babe?”

“Did any of this have to do with the dead chicken?”

 

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 242014
 

Emily tapped the four digit security code onto the pad outside the door to the large condo. The three high-toned beeps announced her entrance home. Smells wafted from the kitchen. Her routine carried her into the office.

She took a seat in Master’s leather chair and emptied her briefcase. Emily rolled her fingertip around the flat pad that brought the computer to life. While waiting for the colorful welcome to pop up, she finger-combed the french twist out of her hair.

Emily went through the mail placed at the edge of the desk, awaiting her attention. Bills were paid with a few clicks of the keys. Invitations, financial forms, important emails, and other documents that needed her Master’s consideration were set aside for him to attend to

Emily refilled her briefcase and left it tucked behind the door. She left the office and went to check on the rest of the house. The girls under Emily’s charge did not belong to her. It was her responsibility to present them to her Master at their best. It was a task that she took very seriously.

Emily’s wardrobe was made up of expensive dress suits that hid racy unmentionables. The clicking of her heels announced her presence. She was structured. They met at his law office. She was his first.

Emily walked into the kitchen, the crisp, modern white that occupied the entire house was hidden by all of the ingredients that Kimberly used to prepare dinner. At 8:00pm the family sat down to eat. Emily’s watch read 7:15pm. It was her job to keep the family clock running. Master would be home by 7:45pm, and he expected everything routinely in place.

“Kimberly, I know you need time to cook dinner, but must you have all of our stomach’s growling until we scarf down our meals like animals?” Emily teased her, and speared a piece of fruit with a toothpick from the nibbling tray. This brought a veiled smile to Kimberly’s face as she worked on the finishing touches. Kimberly handled all of the cooking. Three meals a day and healthy snacks.

At some point during the years since the girls were together, they’d jokingly razzed Kimberly about “taste testing.” She set out a “nibbling tray” before cooking. Slices of fruit, cheese, or crackers appeared and she no longer had to “shoo” them away from her dinner preparations.

Kimberly studied culinary arts in college. The household was lucky to have her. Kimberly’s light brown hair was always held back in a tight bun while she was in the kitchen. She ran the space with amazing ability. She could slow down or propel forward the time of a meal at Emily’s behest. She had an innocent smile.

Emily made her way to the back of the house and poked her head into the laundry room. It was spotless. Only the soft sound of the tumbling dryer gave any life to the room. She shut the door to leave and noticed Cammy coming down the hallway with an empty dry cleaners bag in hand and a warm smile on her face.

“Hello, Miss. How was your day?” Cammy was soft-hearted and soft-spoken.

She was tall, too. Her hair was strawberry blonde and very curly. Cammy joined the family as a service submissive. She kept the home clean, washed clothes, and ran errands when Emily needed her to. Cammy and Kimberly made weekly trips to the store for mealtime and household items as well.

Emily returned the smile. “My day was busy. I’m sure yours was too. The house looks great.”

“Yes Ma’am. I just put away the dry cleaning and I’m trying to control my stomach from growling.” Cammy smiled and tipped her head down the hallway towards the direction of the kitchen.

Emily smirked, “you and me both.” Master’s arrival home was announced with an excited, shrill scream of “Daddy’s Home!”

Emily’s eyes went wide at the screech. “Christ, she’s got to contain that.”

“She’s been pent-up all day. Good luck, Ma’am.”

They both laughed and went in opposite directions. Cammy headed to the front of the house to greet their Master and Emily to make a quick check on the back rooms to make sure everything was in order. Emily found his room perfect. Cammy had his clothes out for the next day. They were placed carefully on his suit rack.

Finding all the boxes checked off her list, Emily headed towards the front of the house to greet him. Their Master went to them individually, with a kiss and kind words. Further information about their days would be shared during dinner and more discreet time, later in the evening.

Master took hold of Emily’s chin and kissed her hard on the lips. He whispered something in her ear and handed her his briefcase. She laughed and made her way to his office to set it aside his chair.

Pretty was the petite, babygirl of the bunch. She had long black hair that fell in curls unless Cammy wrangled her into sitting still long enough to braid them into pigtails. She usually traded a reality T.V. Show for the process, but Master didn’t like doing that too often, as he had to listen to the retelling of the absurdities of the show.

Pretty wore only panties and sometimes knee socks. She was purchased at an auction. She had a single Master. With his passing, she was sent to a slave house. The house Pretty belonged to was never appropriately able to mold her into their idea of what a “little girl” should be. But Master wanted her.

Cammy served Master a drink while Pretty talked his head off. This gave Kimberly time to plate dinner. Cammy prepared each place setting. Kimberly helped Cammy with setting out the dishes for the family. Master, at the head of the table, to Pretty’s, on the floor, between Emily and Master.

Once the table was full, Master sat down to dinner… with all of his girls.

Sep 222014
 

I didn’t want to turn a business contact into a fuck. I crossed the line a few months back when I let him shove his fingers in me. I’ve seen him once since then. I knew I wanted to fuck him. His situation was complicated. I didn’t know if fucking him would be worth all the bedlam it might cause. And would the actual fuck be worth it?

I had dinner with friends at seven. I already entertained the idea of calling him if my night ended early.

My night did end early. I sent him a text.

Me: You up?

I was nervous about the odds of him being dead asleep. My contact might be unwelcome. I doubted that, unless he was in a compromising situation. When my phone pinged right away, I was relieved.

Him: Yeah, out and about. What can I do for you?

Me: Do you want to fuck?

Him: Where you at?

Me: I’m in town.

Him: Off 73. 10 min.

Off exit 73. I could get there in ten minutes. I pulled up on his passenger side and got into the back seat of his Tahoe. I was anxious about whether or not to fuck him until the moment I slid my naked thighs across the leather interior of his truck. It was an imaginary line. I remembered why I was wet from earlier.

“What can I do for you?” He was in front, his elbow on the arm rest, looking at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Really?” I was snotty. He knew what he could do for me. He kept this door wide open. I shut him down. Well…

“Backseat, please?” I didn’t try very hard to hide my attitude. I knew he enjoyed getting the text. Admittedly, I was horny. Not just for sex, but sex with him.

The process was quick and dirty. My dress was short, and easily over my head. He took care of himself. I leaned down and kissed him. Lips forever and a tongue that belongs in my pussy. That’s what I think about when we kiss. I think of how much I want him to eat my cunt.

“I think you ’bout ready to get on this dick” His advertising was good, but how was the show?

I nodded and moaned. I didn’t expect to. It just kinda fell out. I lifted my right leg so he could feed me his cock. As soon as he was in position, I lifted up and sank all the way down, straddling him. COCK. Thank God… Cock.

Both hands, one on the bottom of each ass cheek. He bounced me up and down. He gripped fistfuls of my flesh on my ass and the outside of my thighs. He slapped hot, red marks on my ass. That’s his move. I enjoyed riding him. The head of his cock is beautiful and the perfect rim told my pussy exactly when to stop sliding up and when to drop back down and fill back up with him.

The show was worth it.

I cleaned up, slipped my dress back on, and thanked him.

“Thank you? Oh that’s how it is?” He teased

“You know…… Besides, I shouldn’t have done this. And don’t say anything to anybody.” I was serious, but trusted him.

“Pssshhh…. You ain’t gotta worry about that.” He got out of the back seat and into the front. He tightened up his collar and glanced back to me through the rear view mirror.

“Ain’t nobody tryin’ to ruin that lily-white reputation of yours.” He huffed.

“I’ll call you.” I slid out of the Tahoe.

“I’m sure you will.” He was trying to keep the conversation going. I wasn’t interested. I just wanted the fuck.

Without responding, I cranked up and pulled out.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 162014
 

Kate noticed the trucks unloading next door when she went out for the mail. She flipped through a doctor’s bill, a movie, and a card from Brian’s mother. She picked up a box that was on the porch and headed inside, surveying the envelopes as she went.

“We’ve got new neighbors. I checked the mail. You got a card from your mother. Hey, do you want to keep getting these movies in the mail or just order a different package through our cable people?” Her husband, Brian, turned the cooking fan off.

“What? I can’t hear a thing you’re saying over this whirling” Brian pointed upwards, as if the sound was coming from God and not the hood of the stove. Kate grinned and just shook her head. She and Brian were married for six years. He loved cooking. She loved being cooked for.

“Nothing,” she laughed.

Kate dropped the box off on the table. She took the movie and sat it near the DVD player and the bill on the desk. She left the card in the kitchen for Brian to open. Kate took out a box cutter from the junk drawer and drew it across the clear tape that held the box closed. Inside was a sex toy and a book.

“Is that something for you to review?” Brian looked back over his shoulder to her with a smile on his face. His voice was loud over the sizzling in the pan behind him. She frowned and tilted her head at the smoke. It was probably a good idea to turn that cooking fan back on again.

Kate glanced back down to the box and the book she was holding. The toy was from a reputable company. The rigors of a review would tell it’s secrets. The book would either be a good read or it wouldn’t. Easy enough.

“Yeah. It’s just work.” Kate was a sex blogger. She received sex toys from companies. She used them. She wrote about her experiences with the toy, and included an abundance of information about it. Kate put all of these experiences and knowledge out on the internet for people to read. Of course she used a moniker.

Kate used her blog to write about the kinky exploits she had with her husband. Brian was fine with it. He enjoyed participating in photos and flipped ideas towards her writing. Some posts leaked information about upcoming reviews she worked on. Some posts were strictly erotica. Her posts were automatically sent to Twitter, Facebook, and tumblr.. From there Google+, StumbleUpon, Digg, Reddit, and a few other media options.

She didn’t have an extortionate amount of fans. She was excited to have the fans she did. Some followers were happy to get a post update from Kate. Some had no idea she existed. She blogged for herself. If others found her amusing, wonderful. Kate was happy with her own little space on the internet.

***

A few tweets from Kate’s moniker were retweeted into Denny’s timeline. He started following Kate on Twitter. She reblogged some pictures from tumblr.. They excited him. A post from her blog came across his timeline. Denny fell in love with her blog. Kate wrote stories that touched him deeply. Denny really wanted to know more about her.

He subscribed to her blog. He read everything, new and old. He spent a few days rolling around in the ups and downs of Kate and Brian’s relationship. Part of loving them was realizing that he was alone. He didn’t know anyone that he could talk to about his feelings. He longed for the hands of another.

Kate and Brian were the only ones he fit in with. He wondered if they might feel the same way about him. He spent so much time getting to know them. He hoped they shared his excitement. He had so many questions for her, and Brian, too. He hoped she would be willing to answer them now that they were neighbors.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 072014
 

“These numbers are wrong. These numbers are very wrong.” Karla’s eyes widened as they scanned over the account totals Abe handed her. It was 6:30pm on Friday evening. She had plans to meet friends for drinks, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Fuck!” She flipped quickly through the more detailed of information of each account. Karla was right. The numbers were wrong.

“Do you know who put these in? Fuck. This makes our team look incompetent. These go upstairs first thing Monday morning and they’re not going up like this, Abe!” Karla shoved the file back to him.

Abe was tall. He was muscular. His hair was more strawberry than blonde. Other than office candy, he was Karla’s guard dog. He was hired for his looks and his loyalty. He was hired because he knew his shot. Karla liked men who knew their shot.

“The team is gone. We stay and start from scratch. It takes us four hours, tops, both of us working.” Abe slowly sat down on the couch in her office. He was not looking forward to this. Neither of them were.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles on her desk. Her head dropped back while she waited for the situation to fix itself. It didn’t.

“We should get started.” He stood and groaned.

They worked for hours. Karla let her hair down. She took her jacket off. Her heels were turned on their sides somewhere under her desk. Abe ditched his jacket and tie. He flipped up his cuffs. Karla and Abe worked through every overlooked mathematical knot. The finishing touches were all that the report needed.

Karla had food delivered. After they finished eating, Karla pulled out a bottle of Jack she kept tucked away in her office for times such as this. She brought out two glasses, one over to him on the couch. They were close to the finish line. Karla offered one to Abe, which he gladly accepted. She curled up on the other end of the couch and gave her office a good looking over.

“This place is a wreck.” She groaned.

“Stop worrying so much. We’re almost done with this.” He casually reached over and scooped her feet out from under her and placed them in his lap, rubbing them gently as he spoke.

“We’ve highlighted every mistake. We’re going to make a huge pile of this mess and dump it on their desks. We’ll let them sort through their mistakes on Monday. You’ll send up the corrected numbers. Everything will be fine.” His hands moved along her ankles. They traveled back down to her toes and the balls of her feet.

She had never shared physical contact with Abe on such a level, but she was was not turning down his foot rub. It felt too damn good, especially given the stressful circumstances.

“That sounds good to me.” Karla took a long swallow from her drink. She was beginning to relax for the first time since the madness started. Abe was working on her naked calves now. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

Abe’s hands rubbed their way up to her knees. Karla lifted her head to look at him. She cocked an eyebrow and Abe stopped. He waited on any kind of direction from her. She chuckled and let her head fall back. That was good enough for him. His hands slid up her skirt and to her thighs.

Karla finished her drink in one big gulp. She set her glass on the table and spread her legs so Abe could have easier access. She leaned up and gently wrapped her hand around his neck.

“Do you want to eat my pussy?” Karla spread her legs wider. His hand could feel the heat from the top of her thighs.

“Yes, I do.” His eyes flashed in unexpected excitement.

“Good. As soon as those numbers are right, I’ll be sitting right here. Finish up.” She leaned back and let her legs fall open.

Abe sat back and let out a long sigh. He gently ran the outside of his finger run down the the inside of her thigh. His dick throbbed when he touched the silky border of her damp panties. He drew back and reached for the last few accounts left. He and Karla had straightened out the majority of the problems. He glanced over at Karla, then at the paperwork.

He totaled up what was left without doing the detailed work. Karla would never know. Soon enough she’d be smothering his face with her juicy cunt.

No one would notice the wrong number.

Wicked Wednesday

Sep 052014
 

Robin Lorinthrope’s phone pinged. She was over five minutes late leaving the office. She stood, running her hands down her curvy frame. Her black skirt accentuated her legs. She clicked her heels right out of the building.

She left at 6:06pm. Her phone recorded and alerted at the time. She had drinks with a friend at a posh little plug-in place down the street from the office. Robin used a step counter to see how many steps she took in a day. When she walked a lot, her phone pinged away like an electronic bird, begging for attention. Robin’s blonde, pigtailed icon alerted her of a benchmark. A picture of her with new pink running shoes congratulated her on her next level.

Robin enjoyed her free time for 46 minutes. She and her friend spoke about absolutely nothing and completely everything. One of her apps tracked her. It announced her location with a widespread photo of her in a red slouchie beanie and big sun glasses.

Her electronic calender put her into a cab with three dings, then in front of the nice big house she called home. Robin hightailed it upstairs and into her room. Clothes threatened to burst out of her closet in her very presence. Hangers were landmines, and everything held something else.

Robin tossed her phone into her overstuffed, unmade bed. The bedding was precious. Soft pinks and whites in layers. She kicked off her heels and reached for the zipper of her skirt. The consistent pings from her cell phone made the atmosphere tense. She raced to undress and re-hang her day’s attire.

She slid across the carpeted floor. Robin yanked out a t-shirt and a pair of panties from her dresser. She rolled into the t-shirt, yanking her hair in front of her face as she hustled. Robin used her feet to push the flimsy material of her thongs down the rest of her body. The leg holes stretched and tangled around her ankles.

She heard the door slam while she was one leg into a pair of boy shorts. She stopped skipping around. Robin quietly leaned against the wall and slid the other leg in. She ran her hand through her hair. She was silent.

“ROBIN!” His tone said ‘run and hide’.

And there it was.

Robin swung her door open. and cried downstairs, “Coming, Daddy!”

She saw that he was not as nipped and tucked as he usually was. Daddy looked stressed. Maybe Robin didn’t pick the best day to play office. Maybe she should have asked first. Daddy owned an Accounting Firm and sometimes, Robin liked to dress-up like a big girl and go work at Daddy’s office.

He planned them them, on slow days. He fucked her in his office. The first time, he just slid her thongs to the side. Those panties have never been washed. The smell of them make him hard. He put her on her knees under his desk. They teased, nipped, and grinned, up until her mouth was prime for the rutting.

Daddy was having an issue with one of his auditors, and a client that called him directly. The client called every five minutes and with problems his auditor had the responsibility of solving. Five minutes after he finished wrestling his day-long problem, he looked out of his office to see Robin talking on one of the company phones. No permission.

Daddy explained to her that she walked right out of the office and was gone. She never came into his private office to tell him that she was there. She had a phone that pinged and beeped, but when Daddy needed her, he fell into the company of all those ridiculous alerts.

“Now go get that goddamn phone,” He was furious.

She followed the dings and the pings until she found her phone buried in her bed. He met her upstairs in her room. She offered the sing-song device to him. He took in the messy sight and moved past the pouting girl. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and made himself comfortable. *Ping*

“Leave the phone beside me. I want you…. here.” He pulled her down and over his lap. She cried out, but knew the punishment was coming.

“I already know it’s going to hurt! How many? *PING*How many, Daddy?” Robin was already crying about the spanking she was afraid of getting.”

“I’ll stop once that phone goes silent.”

*PING*

Apr 132014
 

Tommy was taller than me by at least a foot. He was solid. He was thick. I felt the time he put in at the gym when he pressed against me. I didn’t want to pull away. My body had nowhere else to go, anyway. There was no safe zone. I couldn’t get around him. I didn’t want to. We were face-to-face. I had to pay up.

He gently referenced kink. He had my attention. He knew it. My playful banter and coy responses, brought about his warning. He was no one to tease. My stomach dropped and my pussy convulsed. I wanted to tease him. I wanted to test him.

He was a regular at the bar. He kept to himself, but gave way to coy flirting and witty backcap. He gave as good as he got. The innuendos were quiet, even with the loud background and my business with other patrons.  All of the witty repartee siphoned out his dominant side. He knew I had an obvious understanding, but had chosen to teeter on the bratty side. I did so from behind the bar. It was a safe zone, mentioned many times. It was part of our game. I could tell it excited him. It excited me.

When Tommy stayed for more than his usual three beers, we spoke more in-depth. He couldn’t adapt to a vanilla relationship. And no relationship adapted to him. He was taking a break for a while. He went to the gym. He went to work. He came to the bar. Happy hour was very happy for both of us.

Some of his words sent me dipping out of sight. Hidden behind the bar was an unused kitchen. It stored two big beer coolers and the liquor kept in stock. There was never time to rub one out at work. Someone was always fucking thirsty. It did provide enough privacy to regain mental footing, if only for a moment. It was becoming obvious to him what was sending me running for cover. It amused him. I never expected him to follow me.

But there he stood. Shock stole my tongue. I looked up at him. He looked straight down to me. He was stoic.  I considered nervously laughing off my surrender. But the atmosphere changed, and I didn’t have any more witty remarks. He leaned down and filled his hands with the back of my thighs. His fingertips gripped tightly just above the shredded line of my cut-offs. He lifted me with up with spread legs and leaned his weight against me and the beer cooler.

His lips were fat. I wanted to suck one. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away. I looked up at him, instinctually; my face questioning what I thought was his hesitance. But I didn’t see him. He caught my mouth the instant before. Those lips that I wanted to taste were eating me whole.

It wasn’t romantic. It had nothing to do with what I wanted. This person was who he warned me about. He told me that he was no one to tease. There was no safety of the bar’s depth between them. Three beers today. Tommy wasn’t thirsty. Tommy was hungry.

The thick seam from my cut-off jeans rode up in between the plump outer lips of my pussy. Tommy’s handfuls were kneading their way up to my ass. I got his lip, for a moment. He let me have it. He nosed down and bit my nipple through my t-shirt. He could have it. I was cock hungry. He could have pushed the panties aside and slid right in. Time wouldn’t have allowed for it, but it’s what I wanted more than anything in that moment.

I dry humped him like a flat-backing whore. He came back up for my mouth. I sucked on his lip, just like I wanted to do his cock. Then I bit it. I bit it hard. He growled and I let go as his body tensed against mine. He went for my neck. He licked it. He slithered his tongue over my throat so that his teeth would have a slick place to land and sink in. I wanted to cum. He bit my neck. He bit it hard. I pulled at the back of his t-shirt when his teeth sank in. My cunt jerked and spat.

I was cock hungry.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Mar 102014
 

Snow hillHer love for him was fresh and untainted. It was a sunny day with a hill of untouched snow. It was delicate. It was a pretty picture.

Their tracks went back and forth on top of the hill. They hung on to each other for better footing. Neither wanted to upset the fragile allowance beneath them. In time, steps became stomps and walking gave into a run.

On her way down, she felt a hand at her back, not one that offered aid. Her body cleared a path down the hill. The snow hid the branches that tore at her clothes. The slicked grass permitted her no foothold.

She slid. He watched from the top. He was stoic. She relinquished flesh and tears to the tumble. There was no pardon for her. It was inescapable. Every rock, branch, and punch of earth was a recitation of what she already knew; but had to live through to pocket the experience.

Be careful who you climb hills with.

 

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Feb 282014
 

The majority of her wounds healed and soreness dissipated. He believed it was a bruised rib that was the main issue. The rest were bruises, scratches, and cuts. He put them there. He examined and tended to each one, gently. He helped her get into a warm bath. There weren’t many words exchanged between them. She faltered, breaking-in words like “Sir” and “Master.”

She preferred the shower. He allowed her to shave. He watched her. She returned the razor to him when she was finished. He would sit silently on the toilet, his head lolling from one side to the other in appreciation. He took the razor. She closed the curtain and finished bathing. He left the bathroom to go back to whatever he was doing. She caught him, once. He was standing with his back to the doorjamb, listening. She was singing in the shower.

Dressing was a game. He gave her first choice. A sharp “stop!” from the doorway … and she knew her outfit for the day was chosen, even if she only had on parts of it.  There were days when she wasn’t allowed clothes at all. The weather was warm enough that bare flesh and lite materials were not an issue. But the evenings…

He initiated the walks. She wore a collar. It’s soft, black leather didn’t make up for its heaviness around her neck. At least it didn’t rub her horribly. She had trouble keeping up with his pace. His leash was short. Heavy chain looped through the thick O-ring on her collar. She wanted to wander. He wanted her right by his side. He was anxious about letting her out. She was anxious about being out.

The collar and chains kicked up a puff of dirt when they fell from her neck. They walked in the house with the sun setting behind them. She felt the eggshells she walked on would give into the burden of what to say next.

Thank you, for taking me with you… on the walk, Sir.” She shivered while she moved around, using the lamps to bring the room to a warm glow.

You’re welcome, pet.” He freed his feet of his boots at the door and smiled on his way to take up the length of the couch.

It’s a little chilly, Master. Would you make a fire?” She gave him a hopeful smile.

No. I’m warm. It would make sense that if you want to be warm, you would be over here next to me.” She didn’t know how to say ‘no’ to him without riling him up. She stayed on the floor, in silence.

He looped through the channels until he found something he liked. She chuckled at the show. He playfully poked her with a sock’ed toe. Inside jokes from the days when they were a “real” couple riddled their time together. Those moments caught them off guard and confused his new order of operations.

Well into the night, the breeze that trickled through the open windows in the home got the best of her. She scooted herself closer to the couch, inching towards warmth.

You going to hide down there when December comes, pet?” He chuckled. Eggshells, again. Some things were so familiar. Some things scared her to speak about.

Hopefully you’ll give me a blanket by then, Sir.” She couldn’t imagine being kept on this property, being his little pet, until winter.

I believe I just gave you my answer on that one.” He reached down and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. His touch could quickly go from good to bad, from bad to worse.

Were you not listening?” He let the lock of her hair slip through his fingers and fall back down to her shoulders. She turned around to look at him.

To be honest, Sir… I need to go home. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t bite my tongue. I can’t snuggle and call you ‘Master.’ It’s not true. You know I don’t feel that way. I’m scared of being here. I’m scared of you hurting me. I don’t feel the same about you.” She was pouring on a thin layer of confidence. Trying to control that much apprehension left her visibly shaking.

He turned his head to look at her.

You’re not going home. You’ll snuggle and be glad I let you. You’ll call me Master because I own you. Trust me, you’ve got plenty of time to get comfortable with it. You best make sure that I know you’re comfortable with it, too. I expect you to make progress. You might not have feelings for me like before, but you will. You’ll submit again. It’ll be easier this time.” He reached out and tugged at a lock of her hair, playfully.

Smile, pet. No need to fight a battle you can’t win.” He went back to his television show.

She was speechless. Her attention drifted towards the television, too.

elust

Feb 182014
 

TipThey had contact with each other through the internet for years. They were friendly shoulders during personal times. They were comfortable enough to reveal sexual secrets. He liked administering spankings. She preferred the receiving end. She also preferred an initial conversation and sexual teasing during dinner at a nice restaurant; followed by the actual encounter and an expensive gift. It made her feel like a lovely whore.

They had met once, in her car. It was a hurried encounter. He was paranoid and all paws. She enjoyed his roaming hands and drooling compliments.  She wanted more.

She walked in, spotted him, and dipped her chin to the hostess. She took her seat at the table and asked him if all the particulars were taken care of. He nodded nervously. She laughed softly and patted his thigh before picking up a menu.

She had the chicken. He had the salmon. The conversation of family, work, and kids flowed fluidly between them. None of what was said was new information, just updates. He’s trepidation was gone. Her touching and laughing was easy. She made it easy for him, too. The body contact was making him breathless. She felt his urgency to pay the check. They finished up and took to the room adjoining the hotel.

Entering the room before her, he turned, looking for approval. She smiled in assurance. He’d made good choices. Once she’d perched herself at the end of the bed, he brought her a tiny box, which she recognized by its light green color.  It came from one of the tiny antique jewelry shops in Five Points. They were peridot, in silver settings. She couldn’t have been happier. She was squealing. He was beaming. She’d mentioned the stone a few times in conversation over the years. He knew it would be a ringer.

She wrapped her arms around him with a big kiss and a whole lot of tongue. He was immediately anxious to have her. She turned her back to him and asked that he unzip her. When she felt the heaviness of the zipper fall to her waist against the thin fabric of her dress, she turned around to face him.

His eyes drank in the scene. Unzipping her dress and watching as she turned to reveal her breasts. He ran the back of his fingers along the side of both tits. Her nipples tightened. “Uuhh, That feels good.”  His eyes lifted to her face. She was squirmy. He grinned.

She turned from him and pealed her dress over her ass and surrendered it to the floor.  She took two steps in front of him so that he could fully enjoy the site of her naked ass. Afterall, he paid for it.

His cock was strong and appreciative. She locked her knees and bent her elbows into the plush sheets of the bed.  He pulled one of the chairs in the room over to the end of the bed. She felt his hands move up the backs of her thighs to her bottom. He slapped one of her ass cheeks and she arched back for him. He slapped her again, harder. He stood up behind her. She could feel his cock through his pants, between the cheeks of her ass. He turned to set on the bed. The slaps continued until her ass was hot.

Her pussy was wet and she needed to get off, “suck my cunt? I need to cum.”

He was more than willing, “fuck yes.”

They switched positions. She sat up at the end of the bed and he was on the floor, sucking cunt juice. She knew he secretly loved to eat pussy, but not be berated for it. He loved the smell of pussy on his face. He wanted to be surrounded by it. She leaned back and sighed as his tongue dug deep and made a mess on the both of them. He began sucking her clit and she pushed her pelvis against his face. Squeezing her thighs together and spreading them apart only spurred him on. Finally, her fingers found his hair. She lovingly ran her fingers through it. She whispered, “suck my cunt, Baby. Suck on my pussy.” She felt him prickle. She began to chuckle. They had fallen into an easy mode. They were comfortable enough to ask for what they wanted, and to tease. He stood up and looked at her, “You know I hate that.”

That didn’t stop her,”I couldn’t help it. You fucking make me horny. I feel like your whore.”  She was watching him strip in haste as she cooed her filthy words.

“Come suck my dick.” His hand was a port for his enraged cock.

She began shaking her head, “I’ve already told you that I’m not sucking it unless you shave it. It’s not shaved. You don’t even trim it!” She’d seen pictures of his cock and his cum. During many a conversation that turned sexual they had both sent pictures and videos of themselves masturbating. She’d questioned his lack of shaving and he was adamant about his natural look. She’d never sucked a cock with that much hair. She expected a mouthful of pubes and her inability to overlook it and give a good blowjob.

She hesitantly motioned for him to come closer. She took her time inspecting his hairy cock. Despite the hair, his skin was smooth. She ran her closed lips up and down his shaft. She enjoyed the feel of it on her cheeks. His moaning alerted her to his urgency. She eased it in, rolling her tongue around the head. His hisses were an unmistakable sign that his balls were heavy. She drove her face down on his dick. Her saliva mixed with his hair. She almost gagged and pulled back.  His hand was in her hair before she could come off of his cock. He pushed even more of his hairy dick inside her mouth and she let out a little squeak. He began to pump her face.

She could taste pubic hair, his engorged cock, and the precum leaking from it. She was irritated that he was face fucking her. Her cunt was on fire at the same time. Her hands massaged his heavy nut sacks. His thrusting deeper and deeper led to a goopy mess of cum and hair all down her throat, on her face, and even on her lips and dripping onto her breasts.

He was squeezing out what was left in his cock onto her tit while he laughed, “There’s a first time for everything.”

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