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
 

Property AgainThe majority of her wounds had healed. He tended to her very gently. She sincerely appreciated his kindness. He gave her warm baths. He examined each scratch and scrape. She had a bruised rib that he nursed back to health. He was tender with her.

There weren’t many words exchanged between them. His were affectionate. Hers were appreciative.

She became stronger. He no longer had to carry her into the tub. She preferred to shower. She was allowed to shave herself as long as he watched her. He would sit silently on the toilet, his head lolling from one side to the other in appreciation. She had to hand over the razor when she was finished shaving. Afterwards, she was allowed to continue washing. He never left his observant position.

Dressing was a game. He gave her first choice. A simple “stop” from the doorway and she knew her outfit had been 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. Its 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 as if at any moment, the eggshells she walked on would give into the burden of what to say next.

She turned the lamps on in the living room, and shivered.  “Thank you, for taking me with you… on the walk, Sir.” He freed his feet of his boots at the door and smiled on his way to the couch. “You’re welcome, pet.” She gave him a hopeful smile. “It’s a little chilly, Master. Would you make a fire?”

“No. I’m warm. It would make sense that if you want to be warm, you would be over here next to me.” She had been occupying the couch while she recovered and then the floor during most evenings. She nodded and took to the floor.

He looped through the channels until he found something he liked. Sometimes she’d laugh and he’d kick at her in a playful way. Mid-way through the night, the breeze that trickled through the open windows in the home got the best of her. She scooted herself over to his legs. She casually made herself comfortable between the two of them.

“You going to hide down there when December comes, pet?” He chuckled. Eggshells, again. Some things were so familiar. Some things were so scary. “Hopefully you’ll give me a blanket by then, Sir.” She couldn’t imagine being kept on this property, being his property, until December.

“I believe I just gave you my answer on that one.” He reached down and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He snatched it back towards him. “Were you not listening?” Her head snapped back. Her scalp burned with the yank to her hair. Her eyes were wide, but she tried to keep her temper in check. “Yes Sir, I was listening. I’m sorry.”

He let her go instantly. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s going through your head.” She was silent. A decision was on the edge of her lips. She could continue playing dead, or really try to talk to him.

“Sir?”

“Hmmm…”

“May I tell you what’s going on in my head?”

“Turn around and look at me.” He pulled her up to the couch by her arms. He relaxed back into his seated position. “Speak.”

Trying to control that much apprehension left her visibly shaking. Her words were gentle, but she was lost in them.

“I’m scared. I’m scared of you. I’m scared of being here… or of you hurting me. I know that sometimes there are moments that we laugh and … but… you took me.  I do thank you for being nice. You bought me sheets for my bed. You took care of me. ..” She was rambling. She was crying. At one point she began apologizing over and over.

He leaned into her, elbow to knee. “I took care of you because I own you. You are a piece of property.  When I damage you, I will patch you up. I took you. You’re mine. I’m not being nice when I put you on better sheets. I’m taking physical care of something that belongs to me.”

He was getting tuned-up, because his words were completely calm.

She sat still on the couch.  Deep, relaxing breaths.  She was afraid to make eye contact with him. She should have just shut the fuck up. He’s just fucked in the head and she was going to die here.  There’s no reasoning with him. God, why did she try? With a bowed head, her tears were welled up and dropped straight to her hands. She still tried to be as silent as possible. But he was staring at her…

He sprang onto her. His hands were in her hair, on her face, in her mouth, then down her body and over her breasts. His pinches. His hands. His fingers. They were everywhere. Eyes open or eyes closed, they wouldn’t stop.  Attempting to block him was unproductive, but habitual.  He was rough. It was the first time he had been so since she’d healed from her injuries.  Her naked throat begged him silently. He could hear her nipples.  Her cries and tears made him hard.

“I think you’re still a little confused about what’s going on here. This isn’t a vacation, princess. You’re here. You’re fucking here. Now it can be like the good ole’ times or I can beat you until that’s all you remember. “

“Get off of me!” She gave into a scream that had been buried deep. He grabbed her by the throat. He loosened his belt buckle. “There’s my girl, fighting a battle she’ll never win.”

He laughed as he forced her knees open.

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.”

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

Feb 172014
 

Sexual man thinksThe six Suits had too much of their whiskey and scotch during their posh lunch. The waitress didn’t say anything because it ran the check up, but Christ, they were getting handsy. Even for 2’oclock, it was early for this shit. Her hand played out and the tip was even better than she thought. All six of them were laughing like college kids and hailing cabs back to the office.

The Suits owned the company. Some decisions were going to be made during the big meeting. At every seat there were individual packets stacked, stapled and arranged in the order of which the itinerary read. The bar was stocked with plenty of ice, water, lemonade, coffee, and the liquors of their choice.

The Secretary was proficient. She stood and greeted each Suit with a beaming smile. Following the last one in, she watched them take their seats before speaking, “If there is anything that I can do for you Gentlemen, please don’t hesitate to ask.” With a lovely smile she closed the double doors gently and went back to her desk.

About an hour into the meeting her phone buzzed. She was asked to bring in a quarterly report from some months back. She slipped quietly through the double doors and up beside each Suit to deposit a copy of the information requested. Just as she dipped in to leave the last Suit his information, his hand ran up the back of her thigh. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

His grip was unmistakable. Its course was brief, yet obvious. Did she have her legs apart? She couldn’t remember. His hand felt strong and persistent against her stockings. Her mind only had a moment to process the action as she stood, heated and jarred before her pleasing instinct slowly kicked in, “You’re welcome, Sir.”

She rounded the table and a Suit asked for a glass of water. She obliged. Leaning in to set his glass, The Suit on her left ran his hand across her ass gently. “You really are quite lovely.”

“Th..Thank you, Sir,” She flattened her hand against the pages that littered the conference room table. The Secretary arched her body and lifted her ass to meet The Suit’s hand. Just as quick and breathlessly as the moment had happened, it stopped.

She stepped back and smiled into the faces of the six grinning Suits. She wondered if they could smell her sex from where they were sitting. They couldn’t, but her nipples were obvious. Was she supposed to pretend that it didn’t happen now?

The Suits were quietly speaking amongst themselves. She took a small step forward and quietly spoke so as not to interrupt their interactions. “Is there anyone else I may be of help to?” One of The Suits across the table was still speaking to another, yet brought her over with the silent motion of two fingers. As she approached she could hear his belt unbuckling.

She bit back an anxious grin. This meeting was going very well.

Nov 162013
 

Secretlysensous Photo courtesy of Secretly Sensuous

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #53? Start with the newly updated rules, come back December 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

He came in my shoes
Secret Pleasures and a Lifeline
Vulnerability as courage

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Golden Showers
If.

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

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Erotic Non-Fiction

Adressing my Master T
Afterglow, Wounded
Fantasy is Reality, or is it the other way…
Pig Tails? Really?
The Kilt and a Prom Dress
what i want
Whipped & Fucked
Because When You Look at Me, You See Me.

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

SexyLittleIdeas – My Sex Rules
New Rule
Collar Envy (Warning this post is Mushy)
the flood.
Today I cried
Why I love NRE even when it scares me
Love, or Lack Thereof, for an Abuser
a) monogamy b) polyamory c) neither

Sex News,Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

More Than Just Orgasms
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Bed
Sex By Numbers = Bad Sex

Erotic Fiction

Such a Good Girl
Spontaneous Combustion
Seasonal Changes
Wet…bound and gagged
Larry’s Prom Date
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Oct 162013
 

OUTHe slung her across the quaint living room. She was received into his stone fireplace like a naked wrecking ball. Her fear was immeasurable. She was inside now, with him. Bruises, cuts, and much more were hushed by adrenalin.  Hyperventilation was never more than a moment away. She shook.

She wasn’t scared of the likelihood that she would forever be locked away in his mountain forest of snares. She was scared because there was no likelihood. Her new station was unequivocal. He would not have done this unless he was completely prepared. She was terrified because she believed him. No one would find her.

She’d suffered him before, but with slipped absolutes and excessive beatings. There was no closure to their prior relationship. She broke free of it. The mental abuse took longer to shake. Now she imagined him, limitless and with no accountability. It was fearfully inconceivable.

She saw a future of torture, masquerading as punishment and lessons. He had unlimited access to who he would decide to mold her into. Her silence was a mixture of how blindingly certain her fate was, and her slow descent into a hole of lost hope. His ability to destroy her mind was starting. She was afraid of it as much as the beatings. Once he was in her head, he was everywhere.  He would own every part of her. He wouldn’t let her go. She pleaded to God and Anyone Listening. He would kill her. He would destroy her mind.

He saw the harsh realization, even in her body. Her eyes became more vacant. She flinched at his touch. He wanted to comfort her. He didn’t want to go through a period of her hating him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to teach her about flinching again. Those were long, hard lessons for her. He hoped that she’d remember some of her time with him. He wanted her to be a good girl for him. She was always such a good girl, but she left him. She ran. They were going to deal with that punishment later.

He wrapped his arms around her. He needed to support her. He knew that she need to process this information and come to comprehend how it would change her future.

He tightened his arms around her. She was shaking. Absorbing the fear and reality, she finally started to cry. She whispered…

“Get the fuck off me.”

He punched her in the face.