Jan 052015

He punished a girl. He took a paddle to her, yanked her panties down and stuck his fingers inside her.

Nadia stuck her head into the room.

“May I have one?” She asked.

He bent Nadia over the bed. She felt the paddle pushing the pain deeper into the flesh of her ass. Nadia arched. She bounced back for it. And she had a problem with keeping her legs closed. He reached between them. His fingers pulled the material away from its sodden embrace of her lips. He ran his fingers under his nose and smelled her pussy.

“You’re a wet little cunt,” he chuckled.

She just nodded, on the edge of a moan. He pulled her panties down around her ankles and used his fingers to rub her off.

“Tell Daddy where to touch it. There? Ohh, baby, that little spot is wet….” His filthy mouth sent Nadia over the edge. She jerked through two orgasms and left a trail of girl cum down his comforter.

Five minutes. Nadia stood, facing the door. Panties around her ankles, skirt lifted, he wanted to watch her. For five minutes. It was an exchange.

Her friends were calling her from down the hallway.

“Done,” he said.

Nadia tripped over herself, trying to roll up her wet panties and go.


Dec 302014

Instead of a good, demented story, I guess I’ll break into some real life sentiment here. I try not to do that too often, but I’m opening up when it comes to some of my writing. So I guess I’ll kick around some rocks.

2014 is slipping into 2015. It will be June before I get the year right when having to sign and date any document. I never make resolutions for the new year. I figure if I didn’t anything special in August, why slap down a pledge to on January 1? It’s just another date. *shrugs*

I can’t look into the next year and predict what it will bring. I can look back at 2014 and see what I’ve accomplished and what it took to get there.  There are people who have different levels of influence over me as a developing blogger. I’ve learned how to take a picture, read a story without any expectations, see an image through someone else’s eyes, use a damn computer, and become a better writer. To so many people, I’m thankful.

2015. I need more of this, less of that. I have hopes. I have plans. I want to keep the machine running, maybe replace the window dressing and paint. Keep it fresh. Keep it rolling.


Dec 292014

He hurried to grab his homemade lunch and get to his car. The surroundings of the vehicle allowed him a modicum of privacy. He quickly tossed the bag into the passenger seat and unlocked his phone. He brought the conversation alive with the first message.

Him: “I’ve been thinking about you. It’s difficult to work today, thinking about you.”

He waited for a response. Sometimes she answered, sometimes she didn’t. It was all about timing. He hoped their timing was good today. His dick needed release. All he needed was a few dirty messages from her. He’d jack off and cum quickly.

Her: “Do you need some help with that?” She asked.

He was thrilled. He praised the dirty god’s for their timing. He shuffled around, checking for company before he pulled his dick out of his pants. He fumbled to grab his phone and get off a message before she thought he’d bailed.

Him: “Please!”

Her: “Pull your cock out of your pants and imagine me sitting between your legs.”

The messages became more and more one-sided as he got closer and closer to shooting his load. She enjoyed telling him what to think. She enjoyed replicating the image in her own mind.

Her: “You better be close, because my cunt is dripping. I’m soaked.”

There was no response on his end while he masturbated to climax. And then the phone dinged with a picture. She clicked to open it. It was a recovering cock and a steering wheel shot with ejaculate. She gasped and pulled the phone to her chest, feeling the most anxious since she started the charade.

She quickly thumbed up the screen and deleted the conversation and picture. She cleared the phone and plugged it in to power up the battery. She headed to her room to jack off, passing her sister in the hallway.

“Hey, have you seen my phone?” Her sister asked.

“Yep, I just plugged it in to charge.”


Dec 232014

Polly snuggled against the side of the love seat. She penned a letter to Richard and listened to Sinatra croon. Polly’s little brownstone smelled like hearty, warm, food, with a hint of sugar cookies. The soft white lights around her Christmas tree gave the room a pleasant glow. The few gifts below it were wrapped in matching paper with big, handwritten name tags.

She spent the afternoon in the kitchen working on an array of Richard’s favorites; hamburger steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green peas. After she finished her love letter, Polly made him a warm plate. She went to her room to change before delivering Richard’s food. She reappeared with her blonde curls fluffed and dark lip stain reapplied.

She packed his food up and tapped the letter to it. Polly kissed the picture of Richard that sat framed on the counter. She grabbed one of the gifts under the tree and headed for her car.


Richard waked in the house and set his briefcase on the counter. There was a Tupperware plate full of food and a letter laying out beside it.

“Don’t touch any of it,” she said.

Richard looked up to see his wife jostling down the stairs. His initial reaction was to pick up the paper and read it, but the familiar twirl of lights outside alerted him of the police.

“What’s going on? This again?” Richard leaned over and squinted to catch a few words of the letter before his attention was drawn to his wife.

“It’s too much! It’s got to stop. I could have been killed when that thing came through the window!” She cried.


The police arrived at Polly’s home. They found it to be neat and cozy, nothing out of place. She was happy to answer questions. As an officer took down her name and information, the Detective took a look around and asked questions that popped into his head.

He checked the fridge and noticed the leftovers. The Detective looked around the counters and noticed the picture of Richard. He made his way back into the living room and two more pictures caught his attention.

“Ma’am do you know Richard Smith?” The Detective asked.

He leaned over for a gift under the tree.

Same paper. Same heft. Same nametag. Different brick.

“Of course, he’s my therapist,” Polly smiled brightly to the Detective.


Dec 172014

I’ve never been a fan of body hair. I would prefer to snap my fingers and be soft and smooth. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work for me. I have a pale body and more black hair than any person on earth. It feels that way, at least. It started when  The Socialites and The Husband began checking on me while I was in the shower.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Uh… yeah. I’m taking a shower. Why?”

“Just checking. You’ve been in here for about an hour.”

An hour?  What the hell was I doing that was taking me an hour? I was shaving.


I’ve been shaving my legs since I was in the 5th grade. I begged my mother to let me do it when school started so I could wear shorts with pride. She made me wait until Christmas break. When I was in 6th grade, I think I shaved off a bug bite. There was some skin missing and a lot of blood. Other than that, no mishaps. I have to shave every day to have smooth legs.

I don’t remember when I started shaving my armpits. Probably, it was before my legs. But by the time I was 15 or 16 I was shaving my pussy. I tried little designs and cute shit. Always something small. I quickly moved to hairless. It was smooth and soft. And it moved to slippery really easily. Maybe that’s what’s so captivating, there’s no hair to interfere with seamless exchange of texture.

I’ve never used a mirror to shave my girl stuff. One hand always led the other.

I like a bikini wax, but it hurts like fuck. And so far I’ve found a few pieces of that blue wax  stuck in questionable places. Thanks, Natalya. But the place I go is fancy and the girl is quick about it. Those usually last about two weeks. For me, that means a week, solid.

I shave my arms in the summer. That started when I was a teenager. I was at a pool party and met my very first swimmer. He was slick. I’ll leave it at that.


Would I Like My Partner Shaved?

Honestly, I’d love for them to be as bare as I am.

I’ll take a nice, tight trim.

There’s no way I’m going down on a sweater.


Dec 092014

We worked at a bar filled with people who kept eyes on the door, and did their business at night. I was too young to work there. A pretty girl who just hit her twenties was fresh meat in a place like that. I was vetted, but my ability to do the job was another thing. The place was a seedy layer of rough.

Thomas was intimidating. He had thirteen years on me. I had no intention of causing Thomas any problems. Brian made me an issue for Thomas.

All of our secrets chased up the sun.

I knew Thomas felt some sort of way about me in the beginning.

I didn’t care.

We were fucking in the end.



“I don’t have any Kool-Aid or orange juice. How about a beer? I think you deserve it.” Thomas chuckled darkly and pulled his head from the fridge. Thomas liked the sharp parts of honesty.

“So….. why hasn’t he said anything to me?” I popped my ass up on the counter top. I hissed when the peeling laminate scraped against the back of my thigh. I spread my legs, cradling an ankle in my hand while my other one gingerly ran across the abrasion. There wasn’t any blood, but it hurt like a beast.

“You know that I can see almost all of your vagina?” Thomas was blunt as a fucking butter-knife.

I pulled my legs back down and rolled my eyes. I had on a flimsy tee and a pair of faded, red cotton panties. I’ve never been modest. Besides, I was fucking Brian. I never gave a second thought to Thomas seeing my body. Thomas and Brian were friends. I liked to think that Thomas and I had a slight friendship. I wasn’t going to pretend Thomas’ proclamation had anything to do with his alliance to me as much as it was a way to get rid of me.

“I’m being serious,” I was young.

“So am I,” he finished off his sandwich.

Thomas turned his beer up and finished it off. He ducked in for another.

“What was I supposed to do? Brian stashes you here for the weekend so he can fuck and go as he pleases? Look… somebody had to tell you. You were going to figure it out one way or another. This little set-up wasn’t going to last forever.”

Thomas was right. It was a life lesson. Brian stashed me with Thomas so I was always accessible. I was the whore. And I got played. Flickers of people I’d let him meet and places I’d taken him to, family, all in my head. Inexperience shook around my head in big boulders, then plummeted  down my gut until I fully understood.

“Was there anything else?” I asked.

“That Sherri bitch, tried to get a job over there where you used to work?” Thomas motioned in the air with his bottle.

I nodded slowly, placing the girl in my head.

“Brian fucked her in the ass. He said she almost wore him out.” Thomas nodded factually.

My brows lifted.

“Lovely,” I said.

“So, does Brian’s girlfriend and her kids live with him? Or is it the other way around?” I was curious.

Thomas grinned, shaking his head, “after six years, does it matter?”

Dec 092014

TMI Tuesday: December 9, 2014

This time of year lots of people travel: Travel to family for the holidays, travel to warm places to escape winter weather and more. For this TMI Tuesday let’s talk travel…



1. My favorite travel companion is – The Husband. He carries, he tips, he keeps up with reservations.

2. I pass time on a plane by – sleeping.

3. My favorite part of my travel routine is sleeping. I hate the time it takes to get anywhere.

4. When you travel with a companion who is the primary planner for the trip itinerary? Well, it’s never me! Who is the primary planner for the days during your trip/holiday? Always TH. I just tell him where I’d like to go and he takes care of getting us there.

5. In 2014, how many times did you travel for leisure? Twice, I think. For business? None.

6. In 2014, how many times did you travel more than 100 miles from home? Twice.  How many times did you travel out of your county/state/region but remained in the same country? I SAID TWICE!

7. In 2014, How many times did your travels take you out of your country?  None. Where did you go?

8. Do you use a travel agent? Why or why not?

9. For the holiday season, do you prefer to travel/go away or do you prefer to stay home and have friends/family visit you? It’s a toss up. It depends on who it is and the circumstances.

Bonus: Which all-expenses-paid travel destination listed below works best with your interests and why?
a. Walt Disney World
b. Tigh-na-mara Seaside Spa Resort A nature lover’s wonderland–hiking, biking, kayaking, wildlife viewing, beachcombing, and health farm amenities.
c. Macau, China The top gambling destination in the world, experience gambling and casino life excess on an unprecedented level

None. I want a day spa.

Dec 082014

Masturbation-Monday-Week-14“You act like you’re not even happy that she’s coming.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I’m not babysitting.”

“Babysitting? Dude. She’s you’re sister.”

“Yeah, my lush, little sister. And every time she comes for a visit, she spends it drunk or hung over. She’s on her own this time.

“Seriously, man? Who babysits your drunk ass? Me. When she comes, my workload would be a lot easier if you’d get drunk like normal and not be so possessive of your kid sister.”

“Man, act like you haven’t! You know I caught you smellin’ her panties that time.”

“Dude, you ain’t caught me doin’ nothin’. Besides, that was like four or five years ago.”

The night played out better than expected. Eddie cut his kid sister loose; and Jessie watched as Anna lavished her attention on the men she drank with. The more she drank, the more she teased them. Jessie watched all night. He suppressed a note of jealousy.

Eddie stumbled out into the clear night. The fresh air rushed into his lungs. He laughed, shaking his finger at Jessie. Eddie was too inebriated to find the words. Jessie chuckled along with him. He knew Eddie was referring to Anna, passed out, carried in Jessie’s arms.

Eddie wobbled towards his room. Jessie laid Anna on his bed. He planned on getting her into a t-shirt and grabbing some jogging pants. He slid her heels off and unzipped her dress. He lifted over her head. He looked down at her. He could barely make out the tiny hearts on her cotton panties. He pulled one of his t-shirts out of a drawer and guided her head and arms inside it. He leaned over her, gently adjusting her legs. He maneuvered the covers, pulling  them out from under her. Her knee fell to the side, opening her legs.

Her scent caught him off guard. Her panties were damp. He could see the outline of her pussy. He could smell her. He inhaled deeply. His cock pulsated instinctively. Jessie tossed the covers over Anna and headed to the spare single they kept in the weight room. His dick was out of his pants. Her aroma banged in his nostrils. He could see her moist panties in his head. He barely made it into the room before he shot his first load.