The breeze picked up, and I chose my steps carefully while we moved through the woods. As the mountain air blew through my hair, chill bumps covered my body. I inhaled the sharp, October air that held a hint of campfire smoke. Leon’s firm grip on my hand hurt. Was he afraid I would change my mind?
“We’re almost there, Melody.”
“How will we know if they are—?”
“Babe, it’s called Swinger’s Bridge.” Never did I imagine that a weekend getaway to spice up our sex life would lead to this?
Leon’s internet research found this place and here we were. The wind whistled through the gorge, as we stepped onto the suspended rope bridge. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I teetered on the bridge, literally and figuratively. In the vulnerable middle, I would have to decide to step into something innovative. As the wind gusts circled me, my brain swirled with “what ifs.” When we headed out toward the center, the air current sang with voices.
My feet halted us on the bridge. “I’m not sure I can do this, Leon.”
“Sure you can. It’s about us. What we like. We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to. We’ll leave if we don’t like the vibe.” He nuzzled my forehead and then planted his signature passionate kiss on my mouth, filling me with his burning desire. The idea of being sexual with other people turned him on, and he wanted to share that with me. I was clueless about the draw for him, but I had to admit a tiny part of me was curious as I prepared to take this leap of faith with him.
I hugged him tightly.
“Okay, for us.”
As we approached the center of the bridge, the voices grew louder. Are my eyes deceiving me?
“Melody. Leon,” said Cara, shaking her head. “What are you two doing here?”
Leon looked as shocked as me to see our neighbors. “We were having a weekend getaway.”
“That’s obvious, but I meant what are you doing here on the bridge?”
“I, uh-uh…,” said Leon.
“Hey, no need to be embarrassed. If I’d known you were into swinging, we could have stayed at home,” said Jeremy chuckling.
“You’ve done this before?” I asked.
“We come up here several times a year to meet new people and have some fun,” said Cara. “This is the first time we have run into someone that we know.”
Electricity sizzled through me. I considered Cara and Jeremy the quiet couple in the neighborhood. Until now, I never imagined them a sexually adventurous couple.
“How does this work, Cara?” I asked.
“Usually we chat for a few minutes to get to know the couple. We touch a little to explore our chemistry.” Both Cara and Jeremy observed us with eager eyes.
I glanced at Leon. He was smiling, of course. I knew he found this surprise perfect; he didn’t know that I did too. It was better for me that it was with friends. Endless possibilities filtered through my mind.
Shifting my weight from one foot to the next, I hoped my anxiousness didn’t show. “How do you decide what to do, Cara?”
“We are pretty straight forward. We name what we like and see if that appeals.”
“Okay, what do you like?” asked Leon.
“I have always been attracted to you two, so I’m up for anything,” said Jeremy.
“That sounds good to me,” said Leon.
“Slow down fellas. I suggest we kiss a little first,” said Cara. She was tuned into my mixed feelings, anxious and excited.
You didn’t have to tell Leon twice. He stepped right up in front of Cara, and she kissed him. It made me hot watching.
“Melody, what about us?” said Jeremy.
I moved fast, so my brain couldn’t short circuit my efforts. I threw my arms around his neck, settled my breasts in his chest and kissed the shit out of him. When we pulled back, Leon and Melody were staring at us.
“All right for me,” I said.
“Great. Let’s switch it up. Female to female. Male to male,” said Cara, taking charge.
My mind slipped into a most curious and wicked place. “Let us go first, so I can watch the guys,” I blurted out.
When Cara’s soft lips touched mine, and her breasts nestled into me, I indeed had found something different and exciting. She tasted like crisp, mountain apples, laced with smoke. I sighed, and Cara squeezed my breast. Hunger ran through me.
When I opened my eyes, the guys were inches from our face, observing. That was hot, too.
“Okay, gents. Your turn,” said Cara.
I held my breath. I had no clue how Leon would respond. Jeremy took charge of the kiss, and above the wind, a whimper emerged from Leon. Yearning to touch him, I snuggled my body to his back. As I wrapped my arms around him, I held Jeremy’s arms, too. Cara did the same. We were one big lump of lust standing in the middle of swinger’s bridge, and at that moment, I decided to leap.
“You’re hard as a rock, Leon. Let’s go to our condo,” said Jeremy. “It’s close by.”
We drove in silence; our sexual energy could have driven the car. I focused on it to keep my mind from thinking. The winds of change swirled inside me. Maybe tonight’s adventures would spice things up for us.
We arrived at a mountain-view condo, and Jeremy and Cara ushered us in.
“Come this way; the guys will be along shortly.”
Heading down the hall to the master suite, Melody dropped clothes as she walked. She was nude, stunningly bare when we arrived. I was mesmerized.
“Let’s get you more comfortable, Melody.” I felt like a doll being undressed. The care with which she worked moved me. I had no idea what would happen next. Melody smiled. “You are gorgeous. I have always wanted to be with you.”
She kissed me. Her thumb and forefinger massaged my nipple and then her other hand sank into my wet folds. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and savored all her touches. I never heard the guys arrive, so it surprised me when big, warm hands massaged my ass. Had I ever experienced anything this erotic?
Melody pulled me to the bed.
“Hop on guys. I want you to face each other. Get as close as you can, so your butts touch and then lie back.” Leon draped his legs over Jeremy’s. Two massive cocks looked like statues ready for admiration and love. What a view.
“Melody, let’s lick Leon’s cock together.”
Leon grinned, and I enjoyed that sensation. We ran our mouths along his length. I felt Jeremy’s hand on my ass. He wiggled his fingers at my wet opening and rubbed his erection on my cheek, teasing me to taste him and I did.
“Cara, Melody’s mouth is to die for.”
“I know, babe. I could tell from Melody’s kiss you would love it.
We alternated licking and sucking both cocks, together and separately. I was about to explode.
“Let us be proper hosts, tonight and give you a taste of the swinging lifestyle,” said Jeremy.
“Great idea, babe. What’s the plan?”
“Leon, you lay out flat on the bed. Melody, you kneel to his right side so you can kiss him. Cara and I will do the rest. Okay?”
“Okay,” we said in unison.
I gazed into Leon’s eyes, at the same time Melody wiggled her tongue in my slit and I saw stars. Judging from Leon’s response, it coincided with Jeremy sucking him. Leon grabbed my head attempting to get control. I did the same. We locked in the craziest of kisses. Other parts of our bodies were getting serviced, and we poured all the excitement in our kissing.
Leon lifted my face and scrutinized me. “Is it good, hon?”
“Oh, my, Leon. Aaaaghhh, Melody.” Melody worked a circular motion on my clit. She sucked me and then introduced a dildo inside my channel. It hit the spot. The vibrator and I both hummed.
“Jeremy, suck it, yes. Just like that. Ooooh yea.”
“Lift your legs up, Leon.”
“What are you doing, Jeremy?”
“If Melody gets a g-spot massage, it is only fair that you get a prostate one.”
When Jeremy plied his lubed fingers into Leon, Leon wrapped his arms around my shoulders and crushed me with a kiss. The intensity grew. My body met the vibrator strokes and my entire body shook.
Leon’s tongue began a surging motion, unlike anything he had ever done before. I imagined he mimicked Jeremy’s action to his asshole. As my orgasm hit its peak, I broke free from Leon’s mouth and screamed. Leon echoed me. I collapsed on top of him, and we rocked in each other arms.
As Jeremy and Cara pleasured themselves, I floated with the rocking bed, exhausted with Leon. Soon the couple plopped beside us.
“Well, mates, what do you think?” asked Cara.
Leon stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. “Impressive.”
His glassy eyes shone with love for me. “I agree, Leon. Spice works.” I swatted his butt. “Maybe, you’ll get some pegging action when we get home.”
Leon waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Okay, Jeremy, I believe we are ready for what we discussed in the living room.”Author Note: This story was inspired by my friend misreading the "Swinging Bridge" sign.
Writing for MASTURBATION MONDAY Check out other "Get You off Stories."Writing for WICKED WEDNESDAY but not about Mermaids. Go read other wickedness there!
“Anybody claimed this cot?” A sweet, shaky voice directed my attention away from my iPad. I had been watching an action movie to help forget my break up troubles.
“No. It’s yours.” A college girl sat her backpack beside the cot and sat facing me. Her shorts peeked out the bottom of her rain jacket that coordinated with her Keen sandals. When she pulled the hood off, I glimpsed a scared and beautiful face. Well, hello. She could be a distraction.
“How long have you been here?” she asked. I sat up and met her frightened eyes.
“I got here early, about six hours ago. Let the evacuation countdown begin.”
“Have you ever stayed in a hurricane shelter before?”
“Yeah, it’s livelier to stay here and be with the cool people than alone in my apartment. I’m a local bartender, so I know a lot of folks.” I hoped my banter helped settle her fear. “What about you?”
“No, never a shelter much less a hurricane. I was passing through seeing the sites when the storm approached. I figured this was my best bet since I don’t know anyone in the area.”
“You’ve never been in a hurricane before?”
“No, I’m from Kansas. I’ve experienced lots of tornados.”
“Probably similar except we get storm surge. That part can be nerve wracking. You here alone?”
“Uh huh, I’m headed to an internship in North Carolina.”
“Cool. Have you been on our barrier island before?”
“No, I must admit, I feel a little anxious. The shelter workers said I got the last spot. We are closed in.”
“Alright, they do a good job here. Want to get some food and then get settled in?”
“That sounds nice.”
“My name is Charlie.”
“Thanks, Charlie. I’m Laurie.”
Laurie shrugged off her coat after I suggested a tour of the facility and some food. I enjoyed the woman under the jacket, all curves, and legs. Delivering my favorite one-liners from the bar, I got her laughing. My youngest child personality seemed to be winning her over. We chatted about island life and college opportunities. It surprised me that we had so much in common. After eating, we played a rousing game of bingo with some of the island old-timers. They flirted with Laurie, and I enjoyed her reaction to them, a lovely blushing pink tone.
When the game folded, we went back to the sleeping area. The stale air and body sweat permeated the gym. The storm was going in full force, and the wailing wind produced eerie sounds. We sat on our designated cots arranging our belongings.
“Charlie, I’m sensitive to loud noises. I have a favor to ask.”
“If I get scared would you be amenable to me bunking with you?”
“No problem. Climb on in.” Yes, hot woman, hop in my bed.
With our blankets and pillows, we got situated on our cots. Knowing that a desirable, interesting woman was horizontal next to me drove me insane. After reading a novel in an attempt to put Laurie out of my mind, I managed to fall asleep. A loud crash woke me and then a wobbly, warm body slid in behind me. I pulled the light blanket over us. “It’s okay. We are safe here.”
When another wind gust picked up, Laurie spooned so close to me that I felt her heart through my back. She put one arm around my waist under my tee-shirt, and I patted my hand on hers. Be a gentleman, Charlie.
She wiggled, squeaking the cot, and it felt like I was a pair of jeans she was trying to fit in to. My penis started a dance in my gym shorts. The more the wind gusts and banging shook us, the tighter she held me. I sucked in a deep breath when she dropped her hand on my hip and brushed my erection.
As the storm intensification was heightening, Laurie took comfort in my body. I floated like I was in a dream. She tightened her grip on my hip and moved her mouth near my ear.
“Charlie, is it okay if I hold your cock?” Hold on to anything you want; I have gone to heaven.
“Do what you need to do.”
Her warm hand dipped past the waistband of my shorts and made direct contact with my erection. We were in the corner of the middle school gymnasium, covered up by a flimsy blanket. Even with people all around us, I was in a sexual trance as she held and then rubbed my cock. Tentative, she was not. As her calming mechanism worked for her, my pleasure sensation surged out of control. I considered that the entire room, families with children, would hear me, so I shifted to my back to gain access to her mouth. She molded her body to my movements.
“Thank you, Charlie,” she whispered in my ear.
“I think I should be thanking you, Laurie.” My hand wound around her hair, and I pulled her mouth to mine when she started stroking me in earnest. I captured her mouth and indulged in the sweetest tongue ever. It was as if the fury of the storm lived between us and our tongues told the story. I moaned and deposited all my sounds in her mouth. I was pretty sure no one could hear us because the storm had gotten deafening.
I wondered if this was how primitive tribes had had sex, with family members all around them or Native American Indians in a teepee or even camping with a group in a tent. As she touched me, those thoughts vanished. Frankly, I didn’t care who knew; her efforts were phenomenal.
I was as attached to her mouth and tongue as she was to my cock, and I slipped one hand over her breast. She groaned, and I felt a hard nipple under my fingertips.
“Charlie, pretend I’m fucking you.”
Those words put me over the edge. As I was about to cum, I sealed our mouths with a kiss to keep my moan contained. Never had I imagined that I would be jerked off in the middle of a hurricane surrounded by evacuees. I hoped that my spasmodic body remained hidden from the room’s view while under the blanket. My Bob Marley tee-shirt soaked up my plentiful spurts. After I had shot my load, I held Laurie close, thinking about her last words.
We fell asleep, and when we awoke, to our surprise, the worse was over.
“Thank you, Charlie, for helping me with my storm anxiety.”
“No problem, Laurie. It won’t be long until we are out today, maybe you could come with me and check out how my apartment fared.”
“I do have a couple more days scheduled for the island. That sounds like a fun idea.”
“Great. My cock and I would like the opportunity to thank you for sharing your excellent calming techniques with me.”
Laurie laughed. “I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I had fun, Charlie.”
“You can be my shelter bunk mate anytime.”
Prepared to leave, we gathered out belongings and stood in line to exit. One of the bingo players, Dan, came up behind us. He slapped me on my back and leaned toward my ear opposite of Laurie.
“Charlie, I want you to make sure you show Laurie a good time before she leaves the island.”
“I will Dan, I promise.”
“Ah to be young again. I hope you can satisfy Laurie as well as she satisfied you.”
“Did you think in a room full of people, we wouldn’t know what you all were up, too?” He elbowed me in my side. “Do an old guy a favor. Make sure she gets as good as she gave.”
Writing for Masturbation Monday. Check out other sexy stories there! Writing for Wicked Wednesday. Go there to see what other wickedness occurred.
It was our regular Friday game night with my friends. This crowd hated my single status so on occasion they would surprise me with a new guy. Tonight was one of those nights.
I arrived with my traditional barbecue chicken dip and spotted the new guy the second I walked in. Making a bee-line for the kitchen, I sought out Sheila.
“Who’s responsible for this tonight?” I sat the casserole dish and chips on the counter, anchored my hands to my hips, and turned prepared to blast Sheila.
“It’s not what you think, Alice.”
“Oh? You’ve rounded out the numbers tonight what am I supposed to think?” I opened the chip bag, selected one, scooped into the dip and then popped it in my mouth.
“Here. Take this beer and hear me out.”
“Fine.” I took a sip to settle down.
“The new guy is Jorge. He is making a presentation for my company this week. I felt inhospitable for not entertaining an out of town guest.”
“So this wasn’t a fix-up.”
“Nope. He’ll be gone next week.”
“Good. Okay, then. Sorry, I jumped the gun. Who picked tonight’s game?”
“Stanley. He took the liberty of creating the teams.”
“Great. So I’m with the new guy?”
“And we’re playing what?”
“Well, at least I won’t look like an idiot acting things out for Charades or Pictionary with someone I’ve never met.”
“I think you can handle Scrabble.”
We walked to the family room. The others were around the table setting up the board. I glimpsed over to Jorge. He laughed with the others. I had to admit he was hot and I liked men who appeared at ease in a group. Since I knew my friends weren’t meddling, maybe tonight will be fun.
“Hi Jorge, I’m Alice. Welcome to this crazy group. I hear we are partners.”
“Hi Alice, I hope you have a sense of humor. I’m a math guy, not a spelling guy. You aren’t a cut-throat competitive player, are you?”
I shook my head laughing. “Hardly. We’ll make it a fun time.”
He placed his hand on my back as we moved to our designated spot on the piano bench. That simple hand gesture and touch spoke volumes; his hand hello was even more enticing than his sexy voice. We sat on the bench, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. It was nice and inviting.
He pulled our team’s seven playing tiles and set them on the holder.
“I decided to add a new element to tonight’s game,” said Stanley. I held my breath. He always stirred things up. “Tonight is a sexy night. We’ll create words from the wonderful world of sexuality. Everything counts including slang and phrases. Holy crap.
Stanley smirked at me because he knew I wouldn’t make a scene in front of the new guy.
“Wow, you may carry us tonight,” said Jorge. He smiled and patted my knee. His touch shot tingles all the way to my crotch.
“I enjoy changing the tiles around for visual aid, do you mind?” I asked.
“Sounds good to me.”
I moved the tiles around, searching for words. I had plenty of sex words in my head. Jorge stirred them up, and my interest level was engaged.
While I worked, Stanley played first and spelled SNATCH. Hello, sex.
I wiggled on the bench, and Jorge turned to me, his face framed with a questioning look. The second turn provided TITS. The third turn laid out HOMO. How could placing sex words on the Scrabble board make me horny?
Staring at our tiles, I propped my elbows on my knees and my chin on my fists and considered the wetness of my panties.
Jorge took the opportunity to shuffle our tiles looking for word possibilities and we both froze when he spelled the phrase, SUCKME.
Jorge whispered in my ear, “What do you think?” What did I think? What did I think of his play or the idea of one of us sucking?
I shifted toward him and looked into warm, caramel eyes with black flecks. His full lips smiled, and I considered the question. What did I think about the phrase or the idea, suck me. I’d love those lips on me, and if the fullness in his pants were suggestive of what was there, I would have a lot to suck. My imagination worked overtime.
“Play on the S?” I asked.
“Sounds good to me, but let’s just use the one word.” Jorge winked and picked up the tiles. He played UCK under the S.
“We’ve got a lot of things on the board to suck,” said Stanley and everyone laughed. I pulled new tiles from the bag adding to our letters as the next turn started. I shuffled the new tiles and MYPENIS emerged. I halted. It felt like we were playing an Ouija Board Scrabble game.
“I’m going to grab some more food.” Sexual energy ran through me as I stood up and headed for the kitchen. I placed my hands on the counter, steadying myself and let out a deep breath. I was so turned on. A warm body pressed against me.
“I sort of like this game, what about you?”
I was known as the slow, reasoned processor. Being impulsive wasn’t my thing, but it was today. Leaning back into his body, and feeling an erection nudging me, I rubbed my hand down his leg. It was decision time.
“You want me to suck you, Jorge?”
“Only if you want to, Alice.”
I faced Jorge. His beautiful mouth intrigued me. I grabbed his hand as I headed toward the kitchen door. “Stanley and Sheila, I left some things in the car, and Jorge and I are going to get them. We’ll be back.”
I opened the door, and we slipped out. I imagined my friends snickering. They didn’t even know what phrase sat on our tile holder.
“I have a van.” I pulled up the rear door, and we stepped into our new little world.
“I’m an equal opportunity player, Alice. Let’s both enjoy sucking.”
I don’t know whether it was his Spanish accent or the desire in his voice when he uttered the word sucking, but I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough. He worked quickly, too and we lay down on the cargo mat.
“Come here and let me kiss you.” I moved on top of him and giggled. “What’s funny?”
“We’ve gone from a Sex Scrabble Ouija Board game to Strip Scrabble. This is some game night.”
“I take it this is not usually what happens?”
“No, never, but I like what it has served up.” I slid my hand over his hipbone and down to rub his erection.
“This will be the best out of town memory,” he said.
We kissed like first timers exploring new territory. With different touches and strokes, we found our way to shared intense pleasure. I was warm and enveloped in sex goodness. When we changed positions for our mouths to explore the sex territory, our moans reminded me of youthful exploits. Delight and passion cranked up, and I gave Jorge as good as I got. Our bodies fit together perfectly and in another unexpected event our orgasms surged together. Locked as one in ecstasy, we rocked together kissing and licking until we stilled. I cataloged the nip in the air and the scent of us in the van. It would always remind me of life-affirming choices.
I shivered and Jorge held me tighter.
“Ready to get back and play Scrabble?” asked Jorge.
I chuckled. “I wonder what words will show up this time.”
“Maybe, GROUP SEX?”
“You are one open minded guy. With this crowd, who knows?”
“Do we need letters to make it happen?”
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Arriving after dress rehearsals, Drew stood at the door, for our final scene. Did he know?
As I inhaled the sangria and sweat emanating from his body, I couldn’t help myself. Two fisted, I grabbed him by the white shirt and pulled him to me. The touch was all it took.
“Be in character, English accent and all.” Those were the only words I could manage.
I stared up into his eyes. There was heat, and I knew he craved me. I observed him, searching for the change and then the character emerged.
“Who are you?”
“What’s happening, William?”
“The battle. I will most likely die; this is our last chance to be together.” The shirt had never let me down.
I first experienced the shirt with Drew after his opening night performance at the theater. Congratulating him on his effort, I shook his hand, and the material of the shirt glanced off my skin. At that moment, it happened. A synergy occurred between the shirt and me. Visions, sights, and sounds of another place and period ran through my mind. The shirt not only transported me but it introduced me to a character through the wearer.
Drew and I attempted a relationship, but I found that he couldn’t handle two roles with me. Did he realize it was the character in the shirt I craved? Had he figured out I used him for my pleasure?
Now, in the present, gripping both arms, William towered over me. The shirt had taken over. “Yes, but if it’s the last triste what shall you remember, sir?”
“This, Bria.” He picked me up and moving swiftly to my bedroom, threw me face forward on the mattress. He snatched my dress up baring my panties. His flowing, cotton shirt rubbed my back. He slapped my ass. Oh yes, the sting.
I felt his urgency. This man searched for the last pleasure he might know. His teeth sunk into my skin and marked his final attempt of desire.
“Get your rump to the end of the bed.”
I scurried there.
“Hands behind your back. Chest down. Ass up.”
In position, I teetered on the edge of the bed. William leaned over me pressing into my back. I felt the girth of the erection along with the weight of our last encounter. The buttons on the shirt dug into my skin; they too marked me like his teeth.
His breath was hot and wet in my ear. “This pleasure is for me, Bria.” What is it about accents?
Transported to another place with unknown rules, it excited me. What would he do? How would he do it?
With his hands on my derriere, he dropped my panties to my knees. His eager fingers probed my cunt. The cadence of his breathing changed while he pulled on my vulva lips, rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger. Pain and pleasure stirred inside me like a potion mixing in my body. Two fingers moved up through my slit and bathed in my essence. He grazed my clit and ignored the space that longed to be filled. His groan nearly filled it.
“Open your eyes.” Blinking, I saw his erection poised and ready. “Lift up. I want your lips wrapped around me.” I maneuvered to all fours, and he grabbed my head. I opened my mouth.
“In the end, Bria. I need to feel desire.” His voice had dropped at least an octave, primal and raw.
I had barely steadied myself when he thrust his penis in my mouth. I tasted desperation and desire and met it with fury and passion. The shirt’s billowy material fanned my face as I went down on him. Upon moving up, the lightweight fabric ballooned out. It was like a cape giving me directions. With its white color, it signaled my surrender. Yes, take me.
He grabbed my hair, stopping my motion.
“Not like this.”
“Wait, William. Will you mark me first?” My eyes pleaded as I called to his darker side. I would beg if I had to. “I want your cum on me. Mark me.”
“Sit on the edge of the bed.” He pulled the shirt off over his head. “I may not control death’s timing, but I can control this.” Using the shirt’s sleeves to bind my arms behind me, it caused my shoulders to pull back, and my breasts jut forward. The shirt’s magic attached itself to me. My hardened nipples pressed against my outfit and he noted the response.
“Naked nipples, you strumpet.” He shoved his fingers into the neckline of my dress and squeezed my breast. I gasped as heat ignited in me. Yanking the bodice past both my shoulders and breasts, I laid bare to him.
“You want to be marked?” He sucked hard on one nipple and then the other. He slapped my breast, and I came alive. While stroking his cock with one hand, he bit my breast. Using his other hand, he twisted and pulled on my nipples matching his effort on his cock. This connection to passion was overpowering. When his mouth clamped on my nipple and then let go, I knew he was coming. I opened my mouth hoping to catch all I could. He spurted over my face and my breasts. Our panting filled the room.
I felt Drew beginning to slip out of character. I had to keep him there to experience it all.
“Sir, you are not finished. Smear yourself on my pussy and then do what you will.”
His nostrils flared. He dragged his palm across my face collecting his essence. I sucked quickly on his thumb as it crossed my mouth. He pinched my nipple and then wiped across my breasts, holding a handful of natural lubricant.
“You are mine.” After his bellow, I rolled on my side and then faced down. The shirt’s sleeves provided an anchor of stability and a promise of more. I witnessed a new behavior for Drew as William, and I wanted it like I had never wanted anything else from him. Scooting backward to the edge of the bed, I wiggled my bottom.
“Take me, please. I am begging you.”
His big body pressed against my buttocks, and his fingers were wetting me with his come. Testing my resolve, he teased my asshole. I whimpered. He rubbed his erection in the space between my cheeks before he inserted a finger, moving in and out, slowly.
“Yes, you are mine.”
Holding the shirt material, I locked into and secured myself to this fantasy of a man from somewhere else. I pushed back to meet him as he pressed inside me. “AAAhhh, yes.” My utterance spurred him on. He pulled my hips back with both hands. I felt his cock, hot, at my entrance. “Take me,” I growled.
He entered me with a grunt.
“More; I can take it.”
Those words sent him over the edge. He had no restraint as he plunged inside me over and over. I held tight to my wrists and the shirt binding. His body curved into mine, pumping. He found my clit and pinched it. Fire ran hot through me. With my face smashed into the bed, the material abraded me. His pounding took me to new places in my mind. I screamed incoherent syllables, and he shouted something, and then we were a jumble of flesh on the bed. His ragged breathing hit my ear. “Let me untie your arms.” Once he had freed me, he rubbed my shoulders and wrists. I was full and complete.
The shirt remained trapped between us. Lucky for me, it captured the event, absorbed our body’s oils, sweat, and sex scent. It was my talisman, my friend.
Drew left with no fanfare even though I had used him, in more ways than one. As he exited, I made it clear I was keeping my white charm.
Now I held the treasure that provided a portal to another place, and another fantasy, to use whenever I wished. Curiosity and desire make passionate and risky bedfellows. I wondered what power it would give me as I slipped the shirt on.
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Earl’s buddy had found a pinup poster of his all-time favorite model in his vintage collection of Playboy magazines. The guys teased him about his love of out-of-date, classy women. The day Emmie walked into the garage, he thought his unforgettable model had stepped right off the page. How could he be this lucky seeing these curves and style in person? As Earl had imagined her body wrapped in delicate lace lingerie, she had made a play for him, and he accepted.
As he stared at the pin-up over his desk, he fantasized about Emmie in her lingerie; his dick strained in his pants, and the phone rang.
“Lloyd’s Long Term Parking and Garage.”
“Emmie, I was just thinking about you.”
“Are you busy, Earl?”
“I’m sitting at the desk doing paperwork. I love this distraction.”
“I like being your distraction.”
“You are the best and the naughty kind.”
“Well, I enjoyed our little, garage romp, garter man.”
“You little minx.”
“Thinking about it got me all hot and bothered, Earl.”
“I like that, Emmie.”
“I was calling to see if we could do it again?”
“Name the time.”
“Friday night sound good? 6pm.”
“That works. Say, Emmie, what color is your lingerie?”
“Sapphire blue, why?”
“Color against your skin turns me on.”
“Are you turned on now?”
“Hard as a rock.”
“Maybe I can help you with that?”
“What do you have in mind, Emmie?”
“Unzip your pants and let the stallion out.”
Earl looked around the shop and then rubbed his hand across his pants like Emmie would. He unzipped, and his erection surged into the air.
“Earl, I love listening to your ragged breath.”
“Dirty talk does that to me.”
“Stroke your cock. I’m going to lick you. Feel me?”
“My bra is off. Nestle that steel rod between my breasts. Oh, yes, my girls love it. My nipples are hard. I’m dripping. Feel my tongue swirling around your cock?”
Earl’s strokes intensified in strength and speed. “Oh, yeah.”
“What do you want to do to me, Earl?”
“I want to grab that luscious ass of yours and ram my cock deep inside you, so you don’t know your name.”
“Damn. Not fair. I’m in an office full of people, squirming.”
“Hey, you’re the one who called.”
“I’d probably get fired if they knew what I was doing?”
“I’m pumping hard, Emmie.”
“Oh God, give it to me good. Fuck me, Earl.”
“Oh, yes.” The chair shifted, rocked and rolled then reared back when his orgasm erupted.
“Emmie, I love your work distractions, how come you are so good?”
“I guess I get it naturally.”
“Yeah, you know that poster over your desk.”
“My prize possession.”
“Does it remind you of me?”
Emmie chuckled. “Earl. That’s my momma in that picture.”
“Well, I’m one lucky man. My fantasy became real life.”
“Just wait until Friday. Momma taught me how to fulfill all your fantasies.”
Writing for Friday Flash
. Check out the other flashing stories.
A crusty, old man with a cigarette dangling from his lips, and a purple-haired emo twenty-something, and I waited in the hall with our fellow students as the custodian unlocked the studio. Echoed footsteps and murmurs surrounded me standing in this tobacco laced space. I had never pictured myself with these students. I scheduled this class because I was bored and lonely and I hoped to meet a sex partner. If this was my pool of potentials, then the class may cure my boredom, but the people possibilities would not cure my loneliness or aid me in locating a sex partner.
After month one, interest in basic drawing techniques for still life replaced boredom. Our instructor moved us on to live models, and we studied the body’s form and architecture. We began with a female model and Rubenesque curves. The grumpy man in my class livened, as did the purple-haired woman. Their appreciative sighs filled the room as we worked. I was glad somebody received sexual gratification. But for me, drawing continued to be a technical and rote process eliminating boredom until body model, Samuel Livingston arrived. I bid goodbye to lonely and greeted horny with an open mind.
The model sat on a stool, shirtless and motionless, as the instructor walked around him dissecting his body into elements of art. Every single thing about him screamed, “Sexy.” Lust, yes, lust took over.
“Ms. Stevens, did you hear me?”
“Pardon me, no, sir.”
“Come note the cord of Mr. Livingston’s bicep. I’ve watched your work improve, but I think if you feel the muscle it will be easier to draw.”
“You want me to touch him?”
“Yes, Ms. Stevens.” Touch his muscle? Can I touch a different one?
I walked around our easels and stood in front of the model.
“Do a study, Ms. Stevens. Take all the time you need.” The instructor left me and went to check on other students.
Mr. Livingston observed me with a penetrating stare and a mouth that sported a smirk.
“May I place my hand on your arm, Mr. Livingston?” I shook a little realizing that my voice cracked.
“I wish you would, Ms. Stevens. Then we can be on a first name basis.”
A heated expression moved across his face.
“What does that mean?”
“When you look, it’s Mr. Livingston, but when you touch, it’s Samuel.” He leaned in and whispered, “And when you fuck me, it’s Sam.”
I turned to see if the others heard him.
“And what makes you think things will go that route, Mr. Livingston?”
“You’ve been fucking me with your eyes all session. Touch me and you’ll see, Ms. Parker.”
He was right, I been in sex mode all night. What I saw was tight, thigh muscles under his jeans, laugh crinkles at the corner of his eyes, and an expanse of chest and shoulders that could indeed hold up the world. He smelled divine. I was afraid to touch him because I might jump his body in front of everyone.
“I smell peppermint.” My words blurted out of nowhere.
He sucked on a mint, and I watched him swipe his tongue across his bottom lip. What would he taste like laced with peppermint?
“Is peppermint going to stop you from feeling my muscle?”
“Ah, no.” I stepped to his side while he flexed a bicep and posed for me to explore him. Gingerly, I placed my hand on his arm. Inventory: Hair. Heat. Thickness. Hard. Width. Length.
I had closed my eyes and lost myself fingering him. It was as if I became the instrument sketching what I touched. My fingertips and palms memorized the structure and pliability of his bicep. He caught me off guard when he released and pumped the muscle again. How would I translate that to paper?
“The other muscle jumped, too. My hardness is pressed against my pants now.” I looked directly at him filled with desire, and then cast my eyes to see the evidence of his words. The instructor turned his attention to us.
“Ms. Parker, I’d like to see you get the general outline on paper tonight.”
“Yes, Professor.” I moved to my seat and started drawing. The last two students completed their sketches, and the instructor dismissed them.
“Mr. Livingston, I want to get an initial rendering to begin next week’s class. Would you mind slipping your pants down and laying in the recliner? Ms. Parker, you don’t mind if I sketch while you finish up, do you?”
My entire body vibrated.
“No problem, Professor.”
Samuel stood up and moved to the recliner. The snap on his pants clicked open, and my nipples hardened. The zipper-pull eked down the teeth as if they were moving south unzipping my hot, wet, sex. I snuck a quick glance and viewed one hot ass, as he pushed his pants to his knees.
“That’s good enough, Mr. Livingston. Take a seat.”
My face flushed as the room soared to mid-summer Florida temperatures. I reached for my water bottle and took a sip. As I leaned over to sit it down, I stole another peek, and I understood why he was the model. His large, erect penis was a work of art. I had no clue how I was supposed to focus and draw his arm now. I fumbled with my pencil attempting to complete the assignment while I steadied my breathing as the instructor sketched. I was elated when I heard his drawing pad close.
“Ms. Parker, I’m headed to my office. Stay as long as you need to finish up. I’ll check your work next week. Good night, Mr. Livingston.” He closed the door when he left.
The gravelly, deep voice caught me off-guard. “You could start your next assignment early if you want.”
“You’ve already had your hand on me. What’s checking out one more muscle?”
He flirted so well. Ready to be closer, I walked to the recliner.
“Come on. Don’t be shy. Just reach out and touch my man muscle like before.”
“Are you going to pump it up, too?” I grinned.
“Auto pumping is engaged as we speak.”
His cock was rock solid. I wanted to feel it, even if we were in the studio. The pulse in my temples elevated as I consider that the instructor might come back? He’d probably give me an A for doing research on next week’s form. Yes, that was what I’d tell myself.
Samuel had the body of a rock star, athlete, and he invited me to know him for art’s sake. I wanted to experience his personal anatomy with every part of my body. Like before, my hand hovered over him. Take the Inventory: Heat. Girth. Length. Velvet.
His penis bobbed reacting to my hand, and Samuel chuckled.
“It likes you. Go on.”
With the mind of an artist, I explored the erection length, the curve at the ledge under the head, and the slit, now leaking with fluid. I slid my fingers to cup his testicles and noted the skin texture difference and squeezed. Samuel’s breathing had changed, and I opened my eyes.
“You are a dedicated student, Ms. Parker. Thorough.” I continued stroking him as he repositioned the back of the chair a little more upright.
“Ms. Parker. It’s past time for you and me to be on a first name basis. Don’t you think? You have touched me twice now.”
“I’d like you to call me Sam.”
“So it’s fucking time?”
“Well, you do have my cock in your hand.” He held my gaze and arched an eyebrow, waiting.
With my body humming, I felt vibrant and ready to fulfill my third objective.
“Margie. My name is Margie.”
“Ever made 3-D art before Margie?”
“No, not like this.”
“Lose your panties and you can start the process.”
“I like the sound of that, Sam.”
Writing for MASTURBATION MONDAY
and WICKED WEDNESDAY
. Click on those words for more sexy stories.
Installment #6 of A Service House Story Click HERE
to read from the beginning.
Every trainee packed the room on teaching night at the house. As the most senior trainer, Lowell Anderson led the lecture. However, at this moment, it remained difficult to grasp that idea because Orlando loomed large over him. Orlando wasn’t supposed to be here. His dominance and presence called to me like it always did.
But at this moment, there in front of me, the event overshadowed my thoughts, and it felt odd to experience Orlando’s attentions focused on someone else.
Bound to the massive wooden table, Lowell’s body was splayed out, with each arm and each leg to a table corner. This position served to highlight the steely lines of an intriguing masculine physique. Orlando’s hand was attached to Lowell’s hard, enormous cock and he worked it like a master magician. The connection hypnotized me. Lowell’s cock and Orlando’s hand were wet and slick. The wet slaps resonated around the room. When Orlando applied pressure around the circumference of Lowell’s erection, my pussy clenched. What was the point here? Bring him to a pleasure point and stop? Teach him a lesson? Explore the mind-body relationship? I had so much to learn.
No one in the room breathed while Lowell pumped his erection into Orlando’s fist atop the platform. I watched living art. His back bowed, and his taut, muscular body lifted upward, Lowell’s pelvis searched for more of Orlando’s hand. His ass bucked the hardwood table before every upstroke. When Orlando eased up on his grip, Lowell pushed higher seeking to get all he could. As Orlando let go of Lowell’s cock, he locked his gaze on me.
As I focused on him, my eyelids blinked, and then blinked again, while I considered the orgasm denial and the tormenting tease I had witnessed Orlando providing. I felt this experience as if it occurred on my skin. Lowell thrashed on the table, his breathing labored, as he recognized there would be no orgasm. His face told the story, clenched jaw and eyes squeezed shut indicating his physical distress. Had I looked like that?
This interaction in the room stirred something deep inside me. Blowing out his breath, Lowell turned his head to see what had caught Orlando’s attention. Now two sets of eyes scrutinized me. Trapped between two different and intense desires, I quivered in place.
A sly smile formed on Lowell’s lips. “Periwinkle, you are up next.”
Fury raced across Orlando’s face. I didn’t know why, but he flinched and pursed his lips together and looked away. Two trainees stepped in front of Orlando and unfastened Lowell’s arms and legs; the buckles clanked on the table. He motioned for me to take my place.
As I moved closer, Lowell and the trainees blocked my view of Orlando, but I could sense him. I couldn’t get in trouble with him again, but I haven’t done anything wrong.
He is not happy. I sat my naked self on the table. Lowell stood in front of me, his hard body, erect penis, and aroused man scent enveloped me.
“Go ahead, Periwinkle, stroke it. See how hard Orlando made me.”
I swallowed and placed my palm around his girth and then closed my fingers around it. Raw masculine power rested in my hand. Lowell looked down to our connection.
“Periwinkle, Orlando can be a bastard on withholding. He’s the opposite of me; I’m about giving. Stroke me.”
I moved my hand up and down. Lowell leaned into me placing both hands on either side of my thighs. My heart rate increased as his breath lingered on my ear. He pulled on my neck ribbon with his teeth.
“Don’t stop. Do I feel good, Periwinkle?”
“What did you feel as you watched Orlando fist me?” Was this a trap? I know I am going to get in trouble, one way or the other. I’m sure he felt the tremble of my hand.
“I don’t know what you mean, sir?”
“Ignore Orlando. I am in charge of training tonight. Have you ever felt what you think I felt when he stopped the action on my cock?”
I closed my eyes and thought back to the pleasure/punishment session. Most trainees received orgasmic ecstasy, but I received punishment.
“Yes, sir. The punishment session aroused me, but I was told not to have an orgasm.”
“The entire situation awakened me even with no touch. I ached to have an orgasm.”
“Did you think I was, too?”
“I was,” he whispered. “We are going to take care of that ache tonight, for both of us. We are more in sync than you know.”
He backed away from me, breaking the hold I had on his penis.
“Everyone, tonight we will experience pleasure derived from a deep aching, in the body and the mind. Periwinkle, please take the X position on the table.”
As I lay across the table, hands at each extremity worked to secure me. The table was harder than I imagined.
“Get with your trainee partner and prepare for mutual masturbation. Periwinkle and I will lead the pairing.” Nothing about this could be good, could it?
Even though Orlando was out of my sight from this position, I know that there is animosity between him and Lowell, which worried me. This situation would not serve me well.
“Periwinkle, tonight intense pleasure with a magic wand is yours. As your orgasm approaches, you will turn your head and take my cock. My orgasm will be yours, too.”
“I want the table circled with pairs so that we all can experience the sights, sounds, aromas, and tastes of the sexual energy in the room. Dominique and Sable, I charge you with wand duty. Make it gratifying.”
Each one of them moved to the sides of the table with a wand in hand.
As bodies shifted, sighs and moans echoed around me. I heard the click of the wand motor and Lowell stationed himself by my head.
“Little one, I’m going to give you what Orlando never will.” He leaned over me and stroked my face and to my surprise he kissed me. That kiss held passion and heat and just like when Lowell lifted off the table to reach for more from Orlando, my head responded by lifting up to Lowell. He tasted like mint and lust. As our tongues searched and stroked, Lowell pinched my nipples, and the trainees applied vibrations to my vulva and clit. It was the perfect combination. My body was on fire. I memorized every detail of pleasure and savored it all. I was an instrument that three people played brilliantly. When I thought I couldn’t take more pleasure, I did. This affair began to erase the recall of orgasm denial. I was high and in another dimension when my orgasm approached, and Lowell traded his tongue for his cock. I sucked it as if my life depended on it. At one moment I thought maybe he would take it away, and I hurried.
The sound in the room was deafening, it was one giant orgasm. With two vibrators playing between my legs, my nipples twisted, and Lowell’s hard cock on the verge of spurting, my orgasm rumbled through me. Everything in my world intensified as my body shook and I sucked and swallowed, then sucked and swallowed some more. I couldn’t get enough of Lowell. A little bell went off in my head, and I heard Orlando’s words. “Would it be this good without experiencing denial?”
Spent, I stared up at the ceiling acutely aware of the leather around my hands and feet and the bones of my back pressed into the hardwood.
Lowell touched my hair and caught my earlobe between his fingers. His words were as light as his touch. “We are the better pair, Periwinkle.”
Writing for Masturbation Monday
. Click HERE form more hotness.
Writing for Wicked Wednesday. Click HERE for more wickedness. While the prompt was blood, I didn't write to that!
“Baby, I want this.” Adam sat naked on the floor of the bedroom enjoying Lucy disrobing. His mouth watered, for a cunt in his face and a backdoor view. Lucy took her time getting her black dress off. As she dropped each article of clothing, Adam noticed her hands shook. Her panties came off last like they were her last bit of protection.
“I just want to know every part of you, even your ass.”
“You want my ass?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Now get over here.” Adam thought every inch of a person’s skin provided pleasure, and he wanted all of her, even the parts of her for which she was ashamed and hesitant to share.
“How do we do this, Adam?”
“Turn around. I want you to straddle my legs.” Lucy turned so her ass was in Adam’s face and she shivered. He knew she wondered what it would feel like, so did he, but he was excited to find out, and he wasn’t sure she was.
“You are beautiful you know,” he said stroking her skin. She blushed, and the pink color of her skin made him hot. “Bend over and place your hands on my knees.”
She began to bend and stopped abruptly. “I can’t do it yet. I’m sorry.” Her voice shook with nervousness.
“Hey, hey, no problem. Give me a hand to get up.”
She reached back and offered her hand and pulled when he clasped it. She headed to the bed and lay down. “I know how much you want this. I guess I’m embarrassed or something.”
“No worries. It’ll happen when you’re ready. How about we do something you love, maybe a little snake charming?”
She laughed. “Always about you, huh?”
“Oh, no. I know how you get off on commanding my stick and believe me, your powers charm.”
“I do like to control your stick, so let’s work a double header. Get on top of me.”
Adam wasted no time moving; he could never get enough of her. As his leg flew over Lucy’s body, he looked like a cowboy saddling a horse. As his face hovered over her mound, he nuzzled her. She sucked on his ball sac, moaned and grabbed his cock letting him know she was in charge.
He sprinkled kisses on her inside thigh and blew air across her skin to see her wiggle. She stroked his cock while she bathed his jewels with her tongue. He dabbed his tongue on her clit which caused her to suck with intensity on his balls and dropped her legs wide open. She ran her finger over his slit to feel the wetness she would soon taste. Adam was determined to follow her lead.
“I know you are holding back, Adam. Get busy.”
“I wanted to make sure you get it just like you want.”
She licked his stick like it was pure cane sugar. For every lick she provided, he flicked a little deeper into her vulva. As he inched his way down her body, her warm lips circled the head of his penis and sucked gently. When she opened her mouth wider to take him in, he scooped his arms around her legs securing them by his head and then anchored his hands on her butt. He loved this reciprocal state. The tighter he held her, the more she affixed on him. One moment he was giving, the next she was. It was a pleasure loop that they both relished.
While Adam sucked her clit and licked her lips, over and over, Lucy took him in deeper and deeper. His hands had control of her pelvic movements. Every time she tried to shift positions, she took him with her. Adam was relentless, but so was Lucy.
They were nestled together as one when his sexual energy surged up through him signaling his orgasm and Lucy sucked him like she would never get enough. He fancied himself lucky that she drained him dry and took it all in like the hellcat he knew.
After his orgasm, Lucy pushed him off her.
“Babe, why are you pushing me off? You didn’t have an orgasm yet.”
“I figured if I was near my orgasm, then it was time for you to give me a rim job.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. You want me back in that position with my hands on your knees?”
“I do, baby.”
Adam sat on the floor with his back against the bed. Feeing her excitement and trepidation, he decided to work at a slower pace. He didn’t want to spook her; he wanted to make her feel good.
“Okay, Lucy. Get your standing balance and straddle me. I’m going to eat your pussy just like I was doing.”
Lucy moved across Adam’s legs, positioned her hands on his knees and bent. He had a face full of her intimate parts, all of them. He was in heaven. Adam stroked her thighs, as he inserted his tongue into the heart of her cunt and that little squeak he loved escaped her mouth. Moving his fingers up her legs, he stopped at her ass and kneaded each cheek.
“How does this feel, Lucy?”
“Splendid. Your tongue—” He drew her ass cheeks apart and flat tongued her vulva. “Oh, God. That’s good.”
He continued with long, even strokes and enjoyed the hip action it brought out of Lucy. After one long lick to her vulva, he positioned his tongue between her vagina and asshole and stroked up.
“Ooohhhh. That feels—”
“Delightful, I hope.”
“Nerve endings for pleasure are everywhere, baby.”
Adam alternated between licking her pussy and her asshole. He pushed her cheeks together and moved them around while he sucked on her skin.
“Wow, everything is wet and pleasurable. Mmmm. Oh, yes.”
Continuing to hold her cheeks together Adam wiggled his tongue in the crevice of her ass as he moved her cheeks, so it seemed like he was licking everywhere. Lucy groaned and backed into his face. As he separated her cheeks, he sank his tongue onto her rosette. Adam was where he always wanted to be. He loved the feel of her ass on either side of his tongue as he tickled her with his tip. As she continued to back into him, he reached around to find her clit. He was buried in her ass with his nose, mouth, and tongue, taking all he could.
“Adam, I’m coming.”
Her entire body trembled. Adam shook his head between her cheeks working his lips and tongue. He timed his licks and flicks to her ass with his circular motion on her clit. As muscle contractions wracked her body, Adam felt like the bobble head on the car dashboard. Being with Lucy, like this, was everything he had dreamed and more. When she stilled, he dragged her down on his lap and dropped kisses on her shoulder. Lucy’s limp body molded into his and she sighed. He waited to see what she would say.
“I’m a dope.”
Adam chuckled. “That wasn’t what I thought you would say.”
“I never imagined that an orgasm could feel that good. I’m a dope for holding out so long.”
“Baby, when you decide, it is always good.”
“I guess you have to lead me down the sexy, smutty path.”
“Well, now that you say that, I was wondering how good it would feel to insert other things into your ass.”
“Uh, huh. You realize that that’s a body part we have in common, you know, minus a prostate.” Adam held her closer, wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her hair. Lucy lifted her face to his. “Maybe I want to go on a little ass play endeavor on yours.”
Adam squeezed her tightly. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Writing for WICKED WEDNESDAY. For other stories click HERE
A Service House Story #5
If you would like to read them in sequence Click HERE
to start at the beginning. The Story is entitled How May I be of Service.
I get off on watching the new trainees. Me, Lowell Anderson, dominant trained the second year, must come to terms with the desire I feel for Periwinkle, fellow trainee submissive. And she is off limits because Master Orlando staked his claim.
Every beginner at The Service House had “a look.” I’ve seen them all in my nearly two years here. Periwinkle had one. It was a question, desire, and an uncertainty rolled into one haunting expression. The new ones were always ripe, as their look was confirmed, sandwiched between lust and debauchery,
Most trainees wanted to come to terms with their inward sexuality. The Service House afforded everyone this opportunity. A person would always come to terms with it, one way or another.
New member, Kate, transformed into Periwinkle overnight. In most respects, each of us transformed. We either received an answer we liked or disliked, or accepted a desire we never knew we had, or identified something about ourselves that took us by surprise. In any event, this place allowed us to discover pleasure, in all its sorted and mysterious combinations.
When Periwinkle stood in line with the other submissive trainees, her purple ribbon around her neck, I knew. She was in a class all her own. Her skin which contrasted with her docile presence tapped directly into my dominant personality. I wanted everything about her directed toward me.
The first night she arrived, I availed myself to ten different female trainees, searching. I wanted to see the color on them that I knew I could bring to her skin. I applied everything from my arsenal of techniques, and I never observed on their skin what was in my mind’s eye about her’s.
Later in that first evening, when the group used her as a serving table, I was mesmerized by her feminine lines and with her roundness. The shape of her breasts when they faced downward, and the curves of her ass astounded me. Master David reprimanded me for taking too long in my strokes on Trainee Alice, but I hid what preoccupied me.
Periwinkle aroused me and distracted me then, and she provoked me now.
I imagined her luscious body splayed out and bent over my lap. Her scent now cataloged in my mind from that quick step she took by me. It was fresh and crisp, like a fruit orchard. She held her frame so well, a real exhibitionist, presenting herself in absolute ease. I created a path in my mind that I would use to explore and trace the edges of her body. I craved to know what her response would be to my touch, my attentions.
I stripped off my clothes, headed to my bed, and took my cock in hand. The last time I saw her was at the pleasure/punishment session. Surrounded by the other trainees who received pleasure, she experienced the opposite in orgasm denial, but she couldn’t stop the automatic and unconscious responses of her body. Her skin flush moved evenly over her body like the sunrise added light across the earth. It captivated me. While many received orgasmic pleasure from those providing massive masturbation efforts, I responded to Periwinkle’s anguish. She took her punishment well that night, but her body gave her away. Even with her eyes blindfolded, her face conveyed a range of emotions. They were detailed yet subtle. My memory of her expression encapsulated the buzzing and moaning with the thick and musky arousal scents of those around her. Laying on my bed, I back into this memory, it was as if she was here now. It made me harder as I thought about it. What had she done or not done to find herself receiving punishment?
Without a doubt, she needed training, and I wanted to dominate her. I wanted to do wicked things to her, and I wanted her to do particular things for me. With one hand stroking my erection, I used the other hand to caress my body and pretended it was her hand. I commanded her on what path to take. Her hard nipples, perfectly large for accepting individual and harsh attention, dragged across my chest and stomach. I considered how I could bind them to make a flush occur across her skin. After binding, I would play with them while she placed her mouth on my cock. With the thought of her warm mouth and lips on me, my hand jerked in my rhythmic motions. Building on my surge, I became lost, in thoughts of her, her expressions, her skin, and her persona. My orgasm surprised me. I shot off hard and fast.
Nothing surprises me, this did. Periwinkle did. I survive on control, but I can’t seem to control myself concerning her.
With my semen covered hand, I rubbed my slick substance over my lower abdomen and considered how I would have Periwinkle clean me up.
Orlando doesn’t run the show. I will become Periwinkle's dominant.
to Read #6 His Ass Bucked Hardwood.
Writing today for #WICKED WEDNESDAY. Click HERE
to read other stories about READING, erotic or not.
In the midst of a crowd milling around me, the stale smoke and cotton candy scents overwhelm me. I stare at the Wonder Wheel, lost. What a misnomer it is. I don’t wonder, I know. Tonight’s the night. You are probably on the ride with her now.
When you told me you had a surprise, I foolishly thought it was for me. As you described your plan to pay the attendant to make the chair stop at the top, my heart sang. My imagination took over, creating our naughty scene; until I heard you say her name, “Desiree.” It stunned me that you wanted her. I have been right beside you through everything, your best friend, and want-to-be lover. Am I invisible to you?
The moan of metal gears alerts me that the wheel is slowing to a stop. My nipples harden knowing you are freeing Desiree’s breasts. You relish the night air’s work creating hard nipples to your liking. I taste the cotton candy sticky-sweet on your lips. They leave a trail of kisses on me like little footprints in the sand. I imagine how your lips would feel around my nipples as your hands knead and invite me to a higher plane of desire making me want to taste and feel yours.
I would sit on your lap to be closer. Yes, I would take the risk high atop the wheel to be as close as I could get to you. I seek out your delectable mouth and mate with your tongue. I mimic what I would like to do to your labia and clit, licking, sucking, and nipping. The carnival music drifts up from the ground. The squeak in the chair continues as we rock high above everyone, locked together in our passion.
You would know my craving for you. I would make it easy, a skirt and no panties. Touch my hot, wet skin. Let me feel your fingers explore what I want to give you. My outer lips swell. Stroke my inner petals. Do you feel me, hot, slick, and wet?
I back into the shadows and rub my hand over my mound and then wiggle them over my bare skin. My lips are swollen and slick. I hear my heartbeat in my ears as I imagine your lust directed at me. My fingers flick across my clit frantically and send me higher, hopefully, as high as you are. Maybe you will feel my presence up there. Maybe my energy will overwhelm you. As you slide your fingers in her, maybe it’s me, you feel.
My fingers dive in and out of my hidden space as my thumb works my clit. I see your face, taste your lips, and feel your touch. Doubling over, I quake into my orgasm.
Warm arms wrap around me.
“So thinking about me with someone else does it for you?”
“Come on. We’re going up. It’s my turn on the wheel.”Writing for Friday Flash to the photo prompt by fdotleonora.com Click HERE for other stories.Writing for Masturbation Monday. Click HERE for MORE.