Tonight, like every Wednesday night after work, I observed her in the bustle at Lillie’s Victorian Establishment. Her tight black dress accented her curves, and her heels complimented her fit calves. Flicking her hair and contorting her body either higher or lower, she molded into the space of her person of interest. She worked her charm. She hunted.
Amidst the smell of body heat and liquor, her sexual energy permeated the bar. In this chosen sphere, she proceeded from one person to another searching for the connection. With her scope narrowed to her immediate circle, she didn’t know I watched. I loved her energy, her efforts. She was a seductress.
Pulling the Magician from my tarot deck earlier signaled my plan. Swift movement, organization.
When she left for the bathroom, I was ready, following.
As she stood at the vanity, I approached her.
“You like the chase.”
She looked up and gazed into my eyes, “Very much.”
“Does it matter if you’re the chaser or the chasee?”
She scrutinized me. My hard nipples rubbed against my silk top, and I’m sure she saw them.
“I love the entire game.” She turned and faced me. “What do you know of it?”
“You do it every Wednesday.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“I enjoy the way you ramp up your sexuality craving with your little groups. We’re no different.”
She smiled that smile, the one meant to entice. And it did. Heat ran through my body. She turned facing the mirror, and I pressed my nubs into her back.
“You want this?”
I cupped both her breasts. My fingers felt her heartbeat. She was as excited as me. After pinching her tight nipples, my hands skated down her hips to her ass. Her fragrance surrounded me.
“Put your hands on the counter and spread your legs.”
Squatting down, I nuzzled her ass through the tight dress and confirmed she wore no panties. I lifted her dress to naked skin, and her pungent sexual perfume swept me higher into desire.
“Wiggle your ass.”
I massaged both tantalizing ass cheeks as the bare skin of her glistening sex beckoned me. Her wiggling reminded me of her movements in the bar. She pushed for what she wanted. I would work with that but on my terms.
I ran the tip of my nose over her cheeks and eased it down her crack to her wetness. She backed her butt into my face like she pushed her body onto those in the bar. I dabbed my tongue for a quick taste, and she moaned. I kneaded her cheeks as she squirmed.
“Go back to your group. Work your usual magic and build desire for later.”
“You have faith in me.”
“I know your work, and tonight I’m the magician. Our connection will be forged through the fire of my will.”
I licked her again to make my point. She shuddered.
“Go, I’ll be watching.” I crafted this flash fiction for the lovely, Leonora and her birthday celebration. Not only did I include Tarot in my celebratory piece but I placed it in the setting where we met each other in real life. Happy Birthday, my friend.Get flashed on Friday Flash.
Who celebrates the one week anniversary of a new job by purchasing lingerie? I do.
As I arrive at the boutique, I wonder what lacy bits will entice me. I adore sexy undergarments and how they send my sexual senses on high alert. I pass an impeccably dressed gentleman in a black suit near the entrance. I’m sure our pheromones mingled. He notices me, and his dark eyes make me shiver.
Heading for the bra and panty sets, I realize he is the only man in the store. Sorting through colorful satins and lace, he ignores all the fellow shopper’s gawks. His penetrating stare follows me as I pick out items. His presence is all encompassing and makes me feel good, woman good. Clearly, his likes and wants are well-established, and he has exquisite taste. Two can play this game. As he admires an exotic, black bustier, my sassy little southern-self sashays over.
“Excuse me. I’m choosing an indulgence for myself, and I’m not sure which to select.” I hold up the two items in my hand. “Would you give me an honest opinion?”
Behind him, the dorky, store clerk at the register raises her eyebrows, gives me thumbs up and fans her face.
Sexy hunk flashes a disarming smile. “North or South?
“Your accent. North Carolina or South Carolina?
“Why North, thank you. You have a keen ear.”
“I’m into details.” He scans my entire body. Just like a magician performing a disappearing act, I feel like my clothes vaporized. “For a real appraisal, I’d have to see it on you.”
Was that a dare? Is he pushing my sass?
“Well, okay then, sir, I’ll take these to the dressing room.” He raised an eyebrow. Did I just agree to model these tiny bits for a hot, stranger? I may have flirted myself beyond my comfortable sexual element and perhaps out of my league.
He follows me toward the dressing room. I turn, gazing into a set of all-knowing eyes and a scruffy face that makes me hot and bothered. He is so, not my usual, guy next door pick. He’s a gentleman, cultured and distinct with an edge about him. “You wait out here.” His nod provides no assurance, and now I’m unglued.
Removing my clothes, I select the teddy. By lingerie accounts, it is conservative, my typical style. Ready for his thoughts, I push the door open. He peruses me. I feel every discerning aspect as if his eyes were hands tantalizing my skin.
“You look lovely, but your assets are hidden. Try this; I believe it will suit you.” He holds out a hanger. His wicked grin turns my knees to jelly and my southern lady parts throb. That little smirk tells me he knows something I don’t. What is it about a dare? I always go for them.
“Great. Thank you.” I snatch the hanger.
“If you need any help, I’m right out here,” he said and pointed to the chair across the way. Damn. He delivers his precise words with an understated command and control which showcases art and science.
After closing the door, I remove the teddy. It’s official. I have lost my mind. I am buck-naked less than five feet from this random, enticing gentleman who has selected silky undies for me. I retrieve the hanger containing a two piece bra and panties thing. As I hold it up, I want to slap my big mouth that works before my brain. There isn’t enough material to fit around my breasts. I struggle with all the ribbons on the bottom and how they attach. He must enjoy tying things up. I freak out when I see my reflection. Nothing is left to the imagination. The reality of what I’m doing hits me, or maybe my good girl side raised her nagging head.
“Hmm, this isn’t me,” I stammer as his footsteps approach the dressing room.
“It is perfect for you. I can help you get it situated.”
My heart sprints and my crotch plays some fast Latin number. You’ve gone this far. You don’t back down from anything, even this. It may be new, but you can do this. I open the door to a set of smoldering gaze brands me as he steps into the changing room. This gorgeous stud assesses strips of material dangling off my body, covering mostly nothing. I have no moisture in my mouth; it’s all headed south. I am in heaven, and it is blistering as hell.
“Well, you are twisted up. Turn around.”
As I turn, the mirror reflects a fully clothed him and a barely covered me. My breathing falters. He raises both his hands, firm and broad, in the air and his finger gestures at my back where I have tangled the bra clips. I nod yes.
I breathe in his potent maleness as his fingertips work to adjust my attire. He unclips, straightens, and re-clips the bra like a male well-versed in women’s sexy foundations. After smoothing the band on my back, he continues around the front band under my breasts. His thumbs graze me. My nipples pop out like dough released from of biscuit can, seen through this sheer bra. He observes me as if he is anticipating a response. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood. Dark eyes probe mine. He eliminates ribbon twists on the shoulder straps. His touch greets every sensual nerve ending on my body. He works diligently preparing something, and that something is me.
“And now the bottom,” he said.
He looks to the panties, “You are going to have to step out of those.”
I almost swallow my tongue. How ironic. I have to pull up my big girl panties to push the erotic ones down. Is he always this proficient at divesting women of their intimates? Well, I’m not stopping now. When I bend over, my ass shoves into him, and his thick erection startles me. I look up, and the intensity of his gaze causes me to shudder. I have throbs where I didn’t know I had places. He knows what he is doing to me. His smile signals intent. Yes, I’m pretty sure he’d be proficient at licking, sucking, fingering, and fucking me.
Taking the panties, he unties the ribbons.
“Hold this to your belly.” How can one guy know so much about affixing lingerie? He squats, eye to eye with my ass. Holy hell. With his face between my legs, he exhales on my skin as he reaches through and grasps the panties. I reek of sexual excitement; my scent arouses me. The back of his hand slides by my vulva lips, touching me ever so slightly. He pulls the panties through and up as he rises. He sniffs his hand. Mortified and turned on, that’s me.
When he stands, dominance emanates from him.
“Turn.” Sideways, he ties the ribbons on my right side. He leans in over my right shoulder and admires my cinched up breasts. His hard cock nestles in my ass. My heart races and he groans, “Done.” He tilts his head right and left studying me. “One last inspection.”
My needy sex squeaks. “Yes, sir.”
He evaluates every angle where the fabric touches my skin. His finger traces the lace edge of the bra cup again and smooths the band. I imagine his thumb pads on my aching nipples, and I grit my teeth. He crouches in front of me, eye level with my hairless sex. Oh, my God. I hold my breath.
He adjusts the ribboned lace of crotchless panties so that my engorged vulva lips and clit protrude. I should bottle the fragrance of horny me mixed with him for a potent elixir and sell it. He is so close to my sex he could stick out his tongue and taste me. Do it. Do it. I know he sees my secret, a new piercing, never seen by anyone. He looks up, grins at me and stands. He finishes his inspection by moving me to face the mirror as he smooths the panties lace line, and he fingers the open heart design of the ribbon bow on my ass. His touch tingles on my skin. I am captivated.
The erotic tension mounts in this small space as we stand there drinking each other in, neither one moving.
Flustered words sail from my mouth. “Thank you—for everything.”
Appearing comfortable with the tension, he lingers for a few seconds. What is he thinking? I’m not moving, sir. I can’t take this any farther. My heart, matching my pelvic throbs, is beating so loudly the whole world must hear it.
Finally, he speaks. “It was my pleasure.” With one last, long look, he exits.
I collapse against the door panting. In the mirror, a sex siren stares back at me, not the woman who entered this room. I experience myself through his intense eyes, touch, and a devilish smirk.
Did this event happen?
I blow out a long breath. Dare I relieve my horniness before I begin to dress? Hell, yes. No one has ever worked me up like this. I replay every second of our encounter as I use my hand, wishing it was his. Sizzling and sexy in the lingerie he picked out for me, in the tiny space that holds the essence of our exchange, I orgasm.
When my heart rate slows, I dress and gather my purchases.
As I approach the cashier, she scrutinizes me. “Wow, I bet you have some story to tell.”
My embarrassed flush burns.
“He helped me pick out lingerie.” What a lame response.
“Well, okay, if that’s what you want to call it. Your helper asked me to give you this.” She holds out a business card. “And just so you know, he never gives out his card.”
I take it and stare at the written words.
“Southern Belle, I know what you did. I want you to do it for me. Wear your purchase on Saturday night. Call for time and location.”
I flip the card over.
Writing for Masturbation Monday during Masturbation Month. There is plenty of hotness there, go see.
I had a glorious week in the Big Apple. What did I learn?
1) Let’s get basic. If you want to jump start your exercise program, this walking city is the way to go. I averaged 15,000 steps a day. When I headed out the front door of the hotel, boom, I was in cardiovascular exercise mode—for the whole day. The theme of this trip was to experience vibrant people, places, and energy.
2) The people made the city. My first people connections involved seeing old friends. These long time friends moved to NY from our little world of Tallahassee. Experiencing the city from their perspective was wonderful. My group picked interesting restaurants and attractions that continued our previous sharing together—food and drinks and art. It was also nice to be a tourist with them.
3) From my current writing world, I met three author/editor friends. It was surreal to meet Jill C. Shannon, F. Leonora Solomon, and Rebecca Brooks. I covered breakfast, afternoon drinks, and dinner with this crowd. We discussed writer topics and then many others. We chatted about train rides, work areas like the NY Public Library, and theories of people picking up other people in social places which we observed carefully. I was intellectually stimulated, engaged, and playful.
4) The impetus for the trip was the AltSexNYC Conference. I still have my finger on the pulse of sex research even if I don’t do it anymore. There is a special energy in that work. AltSexNYC may well be one of the best research events I have attended. I met three super cool sex education/therapy/research folks from my Twitter life. Check out Michael Aaron, David Ley, and Heather McPherson. I shared with Michael Aaron that I believe the future of sex research is in good hands with his generation. Now that I’m home reflecting on it, it is so true.
5) While I was in NYC, I received my contract from Best Women’s Erotica of the Year. It was dreamlike to be out of my usual space and receive it. I am looking forward to working with Rachel Kramer Bussel and Cleis Press on this endeavor. My feelings were all over the place.
In conclusion, go to New York City. Dreams do come true there. It was incredible to combine all the different parts of my life into the experience of one week. It was a real getaway. Life does seem bigger and brighter from the Big Apple.
The Glass Emperor-A Kink Crate Original by Dr. J.
Every Wednesday night, Mr. Ashton Blackthorne highlights one of his Wicked Pen Writers, and my turn had arrived to host my first Facebook take-over event in Blackthorne's Dungeon. Using my college classroom ice-breakers, I planned to introduce myself and facilitate fun sexuality games for the evening. But I wanted to have a special event, so I enlisted the help of my friends at Kink Crate.
I met the owners of Kink Crate back in November when they attended a pop-up book event where I was celebrating the release of Forever Tattooed. They shared information about their new business. The excitement for their project was infectious. Since then, we have been in constant contact. We’ve attended sex education functions together and discussed sex-positive business ideas.
So what is Kink Crate? It is an online subscription service for sex products. With a monthly subscription, five to nine naughty items around a particular kinky or sexy theme arrive for you in the privacy of your home. Along with the toys contained in your box is a handbook to help you unlock your personal pleasure and creativity. You may unleash your sexiness with either Kink Crate’s singles or couples subscription option. Their first theme was Cherry Pop, the second was Royal Luxury, and the upcoming theme is Deep in Love.
I knew that Kink Crate was selecting new toys for their future topics and I had an idea. What if they picked one toy they wanted to be named and I presented it to the Dungeon members during my party. Kink Crate agreed and last Wednesday in my party take-over, I showed the picture of the glass dildo they chose. Over the next twenty-four hours, members suggested names. With a total of thirty-one names, Kink Crate went to work to find the one that fit for their new product.
So today, it is my pleasure to share their choice with you. I introduce you to - The Glass Emperor. Isn’t it perfect? Pretty soon it will show up in a subscription box that could come to you.
One enthusiastic person will always know that they named this toy. As promised, Kink Crate is sending it to the participant who created the name. And lastly, I agreed I would create a short story, around The Glass Emperor.
Now you know the backstory of how The Glass Emperor got its name.
Is there a moral to this story?
Yes. Hang out with Kink Crate and me for a sexy, fun time. They provide the sex toys. I provide the naughty words.
Two weeks ago, I found myself sitting in a closet waiting out a 30 minute tornado warning. Real life became my muse. Enjoy.
Desiree bolted up in bed when the weather radio blared the tornado warning. The electricity was out, and lightning flashes provided the only view. Jumping from her bed, she moved frantically to get to safety in the closet. She dove in and pulled the door tight.
Why hadn’t Justin made it home yet?
Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears. Sitting in the dark shaking, she lost all sense of time. Memories flooded her. The storm, her loss, and then Justin’s absence enveloped her. A panic attack was closing in.
She never heard him until the door flew open. He’s here. Water droplets splashed through the air and landed on her bare skin. She smelled Justin above the scent of wet clothes.
His desperate words hit her.
“Oh, Justin. I’m scared.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” She reached out toward his voice, and her hand pressed into his drenched coat. Justin dropped to his knees.
“I’m cold, too.”
“Let me help you get these clothes off.”
“Aaah, my sex kitten is ready.”
“Shut up. You know how inclement weather makes me crazy.”
They fell over each other, in the small, inky space as they both pulled at his clothes attempting to get them off.
“Hmmm. You are all nakedly warm and inviting.”
“How can you think of sex right now?”
“Maybe you should try it.”
The darkness in the closet cloaked them. Justin’s masculine scent merged with the soggy fabric and put Desiree on edge. Fear had pumped her adrenaline, and now it was threaded with lust for him. When her hands met his damp, cold skin, she shivered. His shoulder grazed her nipple, and it stiffened.
Deafening thunder caused her to jump. Desiree’s hand landed on his thigh, next to his hard cock.
“It won’t be like last time, Desiree. Push those thoughts away. We’re safe here.”
Desiree fought the memories of losing the house to a monster tornado. Could she stay encased in the darkness feeling the warmth Justin’s cock provided?
She eased her hand down to his balls and cradled them in her hand. Justin’s satisfied moan made her smile.
“Your man parts are warm.”
“Keep exploring like that, and my whole body will heat up.”
Desiree squeezed his balls. After she had pushed the pile of wet clothes away, she stroked his cock like she had a hundred times before. Even through the darkness, Desiree visualized his response. She leaned over and captured the head of his cock between her lips. His ass rose off the floor.
“Dez… yes. Roll over. Let me hear you, do yourself. Make it loud.”
Moving on her side, Desiree lapped at Justin’s hard cock. Sucking him soothed and pacified her. She drew love lines up and down her wet lips with her index finger. Desiree rubbed her outer lips between her thumb and forefinger grazing her clit. She concentrated on enjoying Justin’s hardness.
“I hear you, Dez. You’re so wet. Aaaaah your mouth, tongue. That’s it, baby.”
The storm intensified, and so did Desiree. She matched the storm’s pace on herself and Justin. Tree branches cracked and scraped across the roof. Hail pellets pummeled the windows. Her heart rate soared. This soundtrack sent her to a terrifying edge.
A thunder clap shook the house, and her mouth popped off Justin’s erection. At that moment, the noise made her task apparent. Change the meaning of this storm.
“I have to be closer, Justin. We have to fuck. This tornado will not defeat me.”
“Forget sex kitten. You’re a lion.”
She straddled his lap, lined up his cock and seated him all the way inside her.
The house walls shook as much as she did. The howling wind surrounded them.
“Fuck me, Justin.” Beating the wailing beast was her goal.
Justin wrapped his arms around her and drove her body up and down on his cock. Desiree ground her clit on Justin’s pubic bone with every stroke. It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t let the storm win.
“Justin, finger my asshole.”
“What? For real?”
“Yes, do it, baby.”
Justin’s hand dropped down her back, and he cupped her ass squeezing her cheek as she continued to ride him. He slid his finger down her crack and pressed against her hole.
She sunk her teeth into his neck and had lift-off.
She soared on the orgasm, floating over the roar of the freight train storm.
No debris hit her, this time.
No wind ripped her apart.
Justin growled in her ear as his finger danced on her asshole.
She rose above the storm.
Pleasure burst through her body.
Her mind echoed the chant, “I win, I win, I win.”
Spent, Desiree slipped into sleep. They lay entwined on the closet floor. These warm bodies had lived life on their terms.
When Desiree awoke, sunlight streamed under the door. A wet, musky, sex-scent hung in the air. Justin stirred, and she faced him, smiling.
“Thanks for last night.”
“You’re welcome, Dez.”
“I hope your unit was okay with you coming to me.”
“They understood. We’re in one piece, that’s what matters. How do you feel?”
“Pretty good. I didn’t have a panic attack, the house is standing, and we had hot sex.”
“Does that good mood mean I don’t have to wait for a tornado to play with your ass again?”
Writing for Masturbation Monday. Go visit Kayla Lords and see who else whipped up a sexy masturbation story.Writing for Wicked Wednesday. Marie Rebelle's prompt was NATURE. Check out other erotic stories of the outdoors.
This week I premiere my first author interview. And my spotlight shines on Mischa Eliot.
I thank the universe for the day I virtually met Mischa. I soon learned she was my writer twin. She is a vivacious redhead with a sassy side, like me. We laugh at the same things. The first time we talked on the phone, my family wanted to know why they weren't invited to the party! It was LOUD. We most definitely celebrated.
When liked minded people come together especially if they talk sex, wondrous things happen. She is one of my favorite sexy people, and I wanted to share her awesomeness with you! Enjoy her interview and the lovely, smutty stories she writes. ~Dr. J.~
Q: Who are you?
Mischa Eliot, aka M. J. Spencer. By day I work in an office daydreaming about smutty storylines to type out in the evening.
Q: What are your favorite storylines to write?
I enjoy writing stories where people come together. I like finding out why they are together, how they got there, and what they get out of it.
Q: When did you start your writing?
I’ve been writing for years… I used to play RPG in the old AOL Red Dragon Inn ages ago. It taught me how to write fast and on the fly, creating and weaving stories together with good friends.
Q: Where are you most in touch with your muse?
Sitting outside at the park or on the front steps. I also enjoy sipping coffee at a café and typing like a cliché occasionally. Sometimes, at 3 in the morning I’ll be found typing an idea out on my phone, hoping I’ll be able to decipher it in the morning.
Q: Why erotica?
Everyone who doesn’t write erotica thinks it’s easy to write. Until they try. Then they realize there’s more behind two characters having sex. Erotica is a difficult genre to truly write in if you want it to be more than sex. You’ve got to know the characters and why they’re getting together. The most intimate way to know someone is to sleep with them. Are they slow and gentle or fast and furious? Do they like their hair being pulled and being spanked or do they want to be caressed and kissed until they can’t take anymore?
Q: How would your writing experience help a younger you?
I would tell my younger self to keep writing, keep imagining. Even if things aren’t going well, writing can help.
Q: Anything else you want fans to know?
I appreciate the people who read my stories and I hope they continue to enjoy them.
Thank you, Mischa.
Here are the links where you can find Mischa Eliot/MJ Spencer:
Follow her on Twitter for sexy banter!
As MJ Spencer on Tumblr
Mischa Eliot Author Page on Facebook
Check her out on SMASHWORDS
Visit her AMAZON Author Page for her erotic collections.
This is a continuation of last week's story, Bondage and a Blindfold with Ella and J.B.
Holy hell. I plastered myself to the wall by the door, holding my cock. Ella’s bound body splayed out on the bed. Her rapid breathing forced her breasts up and down and made me harder. Those cuffed wrists contained fidgeting fingers at the headboard. My sexual urges amazed me. Ankles bound with that spreader. Pink was her color.
Ella had allowed my fantasy to come true, but she had caught me off guard with her surprise. I slipped out to the kitchen to find some tools to accomplish my goals.
I surveyed the room. From the utensil jar by the stove, I grabbed a silicone spatula and a tool with prongs. I snagged the lone orange in the fruit bowl before I snatched a rose from the vase. My plan emerged while I gathered my implements. Waiting would charge Ella up, so I got myself a drink.
Fifteen minutes later, with my supplies in hand, I went back to her.
From the doorway, she looked like a butterfly. Captured, she lightly fluttered and then when stilled her beauty amplified. I had waited so long for this. My dick attempted to run the show. It wanted her, now. However, I wanted the whole experience, the scene I had created. I planned to tease her, taste her, and make her insane with my touch. Then I’d fuck her.
“You are making me crazy.”
“That’s the idea?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Exactly what I’ve always said. I’m going to devour you.”
Placing my implements on the bed, I took the orange in hand. As I peeled it, the citrus scent burst forth through the air.
“Are you taking a snack break, J.B.?”
“Only to snack on you.”
Holding the newly peeled orange in one hand, I squeezed and then dripped the juice across her breasts, down her stomach to her pubic bone.
“It tickles, J.B.”
I loved seeing the lines of juice cascading down her body mapping the path for my tongue and lips.
“Ella, stick out your tongue. I want you to fuck the orange, baby.” I lined up the hole around the segments at the end of her pointy tongue. She shoved it in and out with gusto. I pressed the orange against her mouth, and she pushed her tongue in further. The juice dribbled down her chin.
“That’s you and me, baby. Fucking hard and dripping.”
“Mmmm, J.B. I want you.”
I dropped the orange onto the bed and moved over to taste her juicy lips. My tongue invaded her mouth. Our giving and receiving had become indistinguishable. My sucking action pulled her head off the bed. My tongue swirled out of her mouth, around her lips and then her chin. I kissed her wet skin as I moved down her neck. Her moans lit me up.
Ella’s perky nipples, drizzled in juice, tantalized me. I gathered up her breasts in both hands and rubbed my face on her mounds and kissed her hard peaks. The cuffs clanked against the bedframe’s metal as her body rose up to every single touch.
“Oh, J.B. Never thought it’d get this intense.”
I raised her legs straight up with the spreader bar. Her enticing ass and luscious pussy belonged to me.
Toy time. As I held the spreader at my chest, I raked the prongs down one leg, across her ass cheeks then up the other leg. Her gasps pushed me forward. I relished the lines striping her skin. With the rose and I repeated my course. Breathy humming spoke to me of her need.
“Bend your knees.” I pushed the bar back with one hand, and she opened up to me.
Tasting her became my goal. Owning her became my mission.
Kneeling between Ella’s legs, I rubbed my scruffy chin across the inside of her right thigh. Her squirming began. Marking Ella, consumed my thoughts. She was mine. When I nuzzled her left leg, Ella’s ass lifted off the bed, and her pussy lips lined up perfectly with my mouth. I licked her vulva and sucked the lips. I pressed my teeth against her clit and as I sucked in vibrating on her and she began moaning. Relentless, my mouth pleasured her everywhere.
“J.B., I’m so close.”
“Not yet, baby. I’m still firing you up.”
I picked up the red, silicone spatula. Using its thin edge, I drew a circle on Ella’s ass. I kissed her in the center of it.
“What was that, J.B.?”
“That’s for me to know and you to feel.” She groaned. “Ella, how do you like anticipation, now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Don’t mess with a master. You made me wait a long time to get you bound up like this.”
“I was trying to make it good, J.B. I wanted you to have this.”
“Does it feel good, El?”
“You know that it does.”
“It’s just going to get better. You did make me wait. That means it’s punishment time.”
Ella loved toys, and she was hypersensitive when she didn’t know what was coming. That was exactly where I wanted her.
I inserted two fingers in her channel and pushed them upward with a steady beat.
“Yes, J.B., yes.”
As her dripping pussy coated my lips and tongue, I rubbed the flat portion of the spatula in circles on her butt. Her quivering stomach turned me on. I was eager to see a rosy ass.
I stood up to straighten her legs and stuck my head under the spreader. I placed it behind my neck. What a perfect angle to swat her behind and fuck her. I stroked her clit with my fingers.
“Ella, you are getting six strokes on your butt. Three on each side.” I pinched her nub.
“With your hand?” Her shaky voice told me she was holding the orgasm back. The excited unknown kept her on edge.
“No, darlin’. With my newest sex toy.” I grinned staring right at the spatula. “And then I’m going to drill you with my cock. I say when you come.”
“Yeah, yeah, baby.”
With each smack, the spatula stung her ass building the intensity with each square mark. Ella transformed the energy of my strokes and channeled it into her desire. Her vulva swelled as the scents in the room amplified, our arousal and the orange. Her whimpering and panting alerted me. I spanked her for the last time, rubbed the spot, and then wiggled my fingers through her hot, wet folds.
“Come for me, baby.”
With that last touch, her orgasm ignited. I buried my cock deep inside her. Her legs shook around my neck. My balls slammed on her ass, over and over. I drew her hips back to me as I pounded, and her hands popped off the headboard. I ground into her shooting off while her orgasmic screams filled the room.
When Ella stilled, I lifted the spreader off my shoulders and unfastened her legs. Easing down on the bed, I unclipped the cuffs. Beside her, I stroked her hair and kissed her face. Ella. She was the woman who trusted me, heart and soul. I slipped her blindfold off.
“J.B. you were right. It is intense without sight. I want to see the spanking toy.”
I chuckled and held up the spatula.
“My good cake spatula! Why did I spend money on the other stuff?”
“Baby, sometimes you make plans, and sometimes you plan at the moment.”
Ella rolled on top of me, smirking. She dangled the cuffs in my face.
“You know, J.B., I think you’d look pretty in pink.”
His favorite sex scene in the movie had played and J.B, turned to me, agitated.
“I just want to tie you up, blindfold you, and tease you until you can’t stand it. Is that too much to ask?”
The muscle in his jaw popped. He stood as the sexual need surged through his body.
“No, baby.” I crossed my legs and pinched my desire together. “Go look under the bed.”
I’m pretty sure he expected my usual, “no,” but my request didn’t fit the moment. J.B.’s pained expression touched me. I had yet to agree to bondage and a blindfold, but I knew it was important to him.
“J.B., I think you’ll like it. Just look.”
I had wondered how I would share my secret. The timing was perfect. We had been lying together on the sofa watching J.B.’s favorite movie. I throbbed between my legs, thinking about my surprise. I hoped J.B would humor me.
He looked defeated when he walked over to the end of the bed. He pulled up the dust ruffle and peered underneath. I hoped he would be pleased with my initiative. I knew he wanted this.
When I discovered his computer search, his wish was clear and in vivid colors. He had looked at blue handcuffs but had marked the page with pink ones that included a spreader bar and a blindfold. I’d been reluctant. The idea of giving up control spooked me. I wanted to allow J.B. to be in charge of my pleasure. I wanted to give him that gift. Would my gesture make the impression I intended?
He pulled the box out and gazed back at me.
I didn’t recognize that look. J.B.’s entire body had filled with lust and spoke to all my places south. There was joy etched on his face, and it seared my heart.
“Get on the bed, Ella.”
His voice sounded so different, earthy and raw. His fingers tightened on the box.
I rose hurriedly, attempting to steady my breathing. The excitement, curiosity, and my arousal pushed me forward.
Standing before him, I bit my lip as I stared into his beautiful face. When I moved toward the bed, he grabbed my wrist.
That one word set the stage. J.B. wasn’t asking. It was a command. My stomach fluttered, my heart thudded, and my hands shook. My panties became soaked. That in-charge voice told me I was going into the unknown.
“I’m not sure who will enjoy this more, Ella.”
The temperature in the room rose. As I undressed, J.B. opened the box and retrieved the contents. My taut nipples accompanied the full ache throughout my pelvis. Maybe, unconsciously, I had wanted this.
I sat on the edge of the bed and J.B. squatted at my knees. His steady hands rested on my thighs, brushing his thumbs back and forth on my skin. He was priming me for what was to come. I don’t think I have ever craved him before, but this was something else.
“Thank you, Ella. Tonight is about me giving you pleasure. It’s what I’ve wanted. And when you orgasm—”
That muscle in his face flexed, again.
“That orgasm will be mine.”
“I’m going to cuff your hands and then your feet. Concentrate on the sensations you feel. Okay?”
With silicone cuffs attached to my wrists and clipped them together, I was his. J.B. inserted his finger between my skin and the cuff, rubbing my skin. I didn’t expect that I would be hyper-sensitive there, but I was. He lifted my hands and kissed each palm. His warm breath sent signals to my body, like a private conversation. Every part of me listened. Tonight, I wanted to make his fantasy come true.
“Crawl up to the headboard, lie on your back. Do it slowly, Ella, so that I can enjoy your lovely ass and dripping pussy.”
My breath caught in my throat as his gravelly voice assailed my senses. I stood up and put my bound palms on the sheet. As I placed my knee on the bed, I wiggled my butt. The groan from J.B. sealed the deal. His hands landed on my ass, and he kneaded my cheeks while I crawled up the bed. His touch drew a new desire from me, and left a suggestion of his intended pleasure.
I rolled over and settled onto the bed.
“Wrap both hands around one of the headboard spindles.”
I looked over my head and grabbed the metal rod with both hands. “Is this how you want me, J.B.?”
He gazed over my body. “Yes. Beautiful.”
J.B. pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his pants down his legs. Male perfection. While I enjoyed his naked form, he traced a line with his finger from my ankle, up over my hipbone, between the hollow of my breasts and finally to my lips. Goosebumps followed his finger’s trail like sunflowers follow the sun.
“Suck my thumb.”
After one taste, I twirled my tongue around his finger, and he took charge. He explored my tongue, gums, and lips, awakening sensations, carnal cravings, I didn’t know I had. J.B. was good at this.
“I’m going to fasten the spreader and then the blindfold.”
He worked quickly, and when J.B. covered my eyes, I relished my last view. His hand was firmly attached to his hard cock, giving himself a slow stroke.
Urgent lips kissed mine. As our tongues touched, J.B. sucked mine into his mouth. This was a dance we had never danced before.
When he broke the kiss, I was lying in a pool of need. The air particles stirred and I swear I could feel each one landing on my skin inciting me to feel more.
In the darkness, my body throbbed as I anticipated J.B.’s next touch. I could feel his finger caressing the sheet as his hand rested by my ankle. Touch me, again. Kiss me, again.
“Waiting is an exceptional talent, Ella. I should know.”
He leaned over me. I inhaled the sexually charged scent of him. J.B. dragged his cock and balls over my shin and thigh, and I almost levitated off the bed. I was mesmerized by the sensations he induced.
J.B. chuckled and kissed my cheek. And then he left the room.
*Writer's Note: This story was the result of a lovely exchange with a friend. Enjoy, J.B. I do believe there is More to come.
Go see what J.B. gave Ella in Dripping.
A NON FICTION Selection On Writing.
Today, I was unsettled. I walked to clear my head and focus on a new story idea. I didn’t know it was a “walking meditation” until my aunt arrived at my side. I could have been traipsing down the grassy path to the pond of my youth, or the woodsy trail to the Big Rocks, at the creek, near the cemetery. But today, she and I walked on my new island path.
The last time I saw my Aunt, was in Spring 2006 before she died. She posed for me on an old brick pillar of the home house foundation surrounded by daffodils. I snapped her photograph. This past Friday, daffodils unexpectedly arrived in my life. Maybe they are responsible for the walking event and this writing lesson gift
As a child, when you visited your relatives, they gave cakes or cookies. Not with Aunt Virginia, her offering was the written word.
The words, the poem of the day, were always captured on an onion-skin carbon copy. I wish I had kept every piece of paper she gave me. Now, I find the poems printed in one of her fifteen books. They don’t hold the same energy as when she pulled the paper out of her typewriter and placed it into my hands. I knew then, they were important, but I have come to understand their significance, now.
Virginia never knew me as a writer because that occurred years after her death. But after my walk today, I wondered if she knew it would happen. Had I been in her writing class all those years? Did she know back then what would take me years to own?
Write. You have something to say.
So today, from my “kick in the pants” meditation, here are five points from her life lesson and the poem she picked for me.
1- Never doubt yourself. You have something to say. Be brave and say it.
2- Every day arrives with a clean, writing slate along with new thoughts and ideas. Pull one down from the universal consciousness and play with it. It was meant for you.
3-Sex is a primal, dirty, pleasurable, and a personal thing that we all can experience. Show it to us, Dr. J.
4-Listen to a story idea with an open heart. Take note of the life connection and the characters’ experience. If it resonates, then you have tapped into a universal truth. Give the account of it.
5-Embody the story. Feel it in your flesh, hold it in your heart, and then give it the words to fly.
Today’s lesson was based on her poem, Literary Footnote found in Stones of Silence
An early Irish triad
Three cardinal sorrows.
To mock a poet,
To love a poet,
To be a poet
Invites constant storm,
For over a half a century
I yearned to be a poet.
I was wrong, wrong, wrong!
Finally I have learned
I only need
To be the poem.
~Virginia Love Long~
This is #8 in the Service House Training Stories. It is a serial read. You can start from the beginning HERE.
Periwinkle arrived at her assigned room. Naked and pacing, she attempted to shake herself from the erotic storm she witnessed. The mixture of torment and lust between Orlando and Lowell was abundant. She was caught up in something. There was so much she didn’t know about being at Service House.
The door opened, and Julianna peeked in.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help you get ready for your session. How are you doing after that demonstration?”
“I’m wired. I’m not sure what is going on between those two or why I seem to be in the middle of it.”
Julianna patted the bed for Periwinkle to sit down. After she had settled on the bed, Julianna stroked her hair, careful not to touch her anywhere else. It soothed Periwinkle.
“Sometimes the testosterone surge is bigger than the both of them. But it will all work out.”
“I just want to have good teachers so I can be the best at service.”
“I understand Periwinkle. Sometimes the people mix is fascinating.”
“What do you mean?”
Julianna fidgeted for a moment.
“No one has explained it to you, Periwinkle.”
“Here at the House, you’re what we call an amplifier. Your presence amps up sexual energy. Feel the charge in the room? That’s you.”
“That’s why they are aggressive. Those men, they want more sensation. You can give them that.”
“I don’t understand, Julianna.”
“When we all start at Service House, sexual qualities are identified in each of us. I’m called a matcher. I can match the sexual intensity of anyone I touch. I can’t create it or amplify it, like you.”
Periwinkle studied her, thinking.
“How do you do that?”
“By a single well-placed touch.”
“Are you saying during my sexual arousal, if you touched me, my sexual energy becomes yours?”
“So, if I move into an intense sexual scene and you touch me, you match me with my experience.”
“So, if someone touches you, does he or she feel you and me?”
“Uh-huh. That’s the amplifying part. It just gets bigger. Do you want to see what it’s like before your session with Orlando?” Julianna was a pure pleasure seeker.
Periwinkle wondered if she would be punished for this, but she wanted a friend here, someone to talk to.
“Perfect. I want you to think about the session you just witnessed. Place yourself back in the room. Focus on the feelings.”
Periwinkle closed her eyes. It was as if her body was an old fashion thermometer. You could see her temperature rising. Color flushed her skin, and she sucked on her lip.
“Tell me, what is playing on your mind?”
“Their interaction, just now and…on the hardwood table in last week’s teaching session.”
“Yes, good,” said Julianna, admiring Periwinkle.
“Orlando perceives what Lowell wants and how to—”
“Either give it to him or frustrate him.”
“Yes, the need was great.”
“Who’s need, Periwinkle?”
She whispered, “Both of them.”
“Now, lie back, let me show you.”
Julianna desired an erotic jolt, but she knew it was too soon to touch Periwinkle, so she instructed instead.
“Put your hands on your breasts. Roll your nipples between your fingers.”
The words alone sent sexy shockwaves south. As Periwinkle worked her peaks, her breathing quickened. Julianna felt Periwinkle’s arousal building, and she craved it.
“Slide your feet up and drop your knees out. I want access to your wet folds.” The sheets crumpled as her feet dragged closer to her ass and then Periwinkle eased each leg out to the side.
“How are your nipples?”
Julianna hovered over Periwinkle, blowing on her skin but not touching her.
Julianna’s breath technique allowed Periwinkle to access her body memories. When Julianna blew on her nipples, Periwinkle remembered the night Orlando tied the ribbons to them. The attached weights pulled on her tips and made her needy, like now.
Julianna puckered her lips and sprayed warm air back and forth across Periwinkle’s stomach, and Periwinkle replayed the previous scene of the two men as their sexual chemistry surged. Her mouth dropped open with want.
As warm air passed by her ass cheeks, it called to mind Orlando’s butt plug insertion on their first night. Periwinkle clenched.
Moving up her body, Julianna lingered over Periwinkle’s face and then lightly breathed on her lips. It sent Periwinkle to teaching night. She had tasted Lowell’s cock as the magic wand vibrations exploded on her clit. That orgasm had been massive. The memory of sucking him came with all the body sensations.
“Oh, Periwinkle, you are so ready. I’m going to—”
“Julianna, what are you doing?”
Master Lowell’s loud voice boomed from the doorway, and then the door slammed behind him. Julianna jumped off the bed and assumed her training position.
Periwinkle re-lived an all too familiar low-riding ache. Why was this happening, again? She attempted to sit up to her assigned training position.
“Stay where you are, Periwinkle.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Julianna. Go to Room F and tell the attendant to follow the procedures for unauthorized sexual intent.”
“Yes, Master Lowell.”
“I will be in later.”
The door closed behind Julianna without any sound. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room leaving only the sexual tension of Periwinkle’s body. She was a hyper-sensitive mess, radiating a sexual need she had never felt before.
“Periwinkle, open your eyes.” When she did, she spotted Master Lowell crouched at the end of the bed between her legs.
“Your need, little one, it is tapping into mine.” Those words and his gaze reactivated her sexual desire, exactly where Julianna left off.
“When my fingers enter your channel, and my thumb touches your clit, you will experience our raw sexual energy, and you will instantly orgasm.”
He rose and puffed his breath over each nipple, then down her abdomen, and to her sex. All of the memories brought forth with Julianna swirled in her mind again. As promised, when Lowell’s touched her, an orgasm ignited. It was a pleasure beyond any she had experienced, and she soared.
Lowell draped a piece of silk material across her body.
“This is your gift. It has absorbed all your pleasure.” He caressed her foot, and his fingers lingered.
Overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings, Periwinkle clutched the silk as Lowell left the room. She knew he was headed to Julianna.