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Had he left me hanging? Impatiently, I sat at the game table wearing nothing but my lacy thong and open-toe heels, waiting for him to come back and make his move. Which one? I chuckled at my pun. His chess moves or his move on me. He taunted me with his gorgeous ass which I loved to bite, lick, and kiss. I had seen a lot of it since he kept leaving the room.

This man liked games, especially games with strategy. Did he do this to see if I would take care of the lustful urges? I would, take care of myself, even if I got punished.

“Here is my latest story,” he said. “What do you think?” I looked up from the board as he read.

“Anthony’s cock came to life under her feet. To say he was a foot man was an understatement, that part of her anatomy was delectable.”

He watched my chess move over the book. “Poor strategy. Play more precisely.”

“How do you expect me to concentrate on playing when you keep reading your kink to me?” Why did I get the feeling he was playing two strategy games?

He continued reading. “Using her big toe, Marina drew a line from the tip of his erection to the root. Her lovely foot was on him. He wanted to feel her skin on him. She jiggled his balls and then nestled all five toes there rubbing, gently. He craved to taste her toes, lick in between them, and suck each one like she sucked his cock. He fantasized about his cock in her mouth while her foot was in his.”

Standing abruptly, he turned the book over to mark his page, and left the room, again. He loved to read his stories aloud and gauge my response. Today, his own reaction overpowered him and I was pleased that my author heated up. He hadn’t admitted it, yet, but I knew. He wanted my feet. I’ll give him a move he’s not expecting.

I slipped off both shoes. As I glided my hand in my panties, the amount of wetness surprised me. Visualizing his hard cock and edgy desire drove my hand on. I circled my clit, and dipped inside and clamped against my fingers. This was steamy. Would he wonder what I was doing? If he combined that idea with his story would it make him crazy? My hand was sopping with my own sexual lubrication. Before I had the chance to finish myself off, I heard his footsteps in the hall. Panting, I propped my foot on the table edge and I smeared my juices on my toes. What will he do about this?

He walked into the room and raised an eyebrow when he spied my foot by the edge of the chess board.

“Changing the game, are we?”

“I got a cramp in my foot and I took off my shoe to rub it. Can you check it?”

He placed his drink beside the book and walked to the corner of the table.

“Where did it hurt?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in my arch. Could you rub it?” I hoped this was enough of an invitation to get him closer. He leaned over to look and I waited for the recognition. His nostrils flared and he observed my face. I smiled and wiggled my toes.

“Been studying strategy, have you?”

“Maybe. I seem to have a proficient teacher.”

As if my foot was a fresh flower bouquet, he inhaled the fragrance. He dropped to his knees and cradled my foot with both his hands. I glanced to his pants and the bulge confirmed my suspicions.

“Put your hand back where it belongs and show me how you did this.”

“Did what?”

“You are going to be coy, now? Your toes are covered in pussy juice and I want to see how you went about it.”

His words stirred my aching pelvis. Enjoying his intense gaze, I pushed my hand between my legs and searched out my clit. As I started making circles, his talented thumbs dug into my arch. My breathing hitched.  His thumbs followed my hand pattern. When he leaned down and tongued my big toe, I shivered in the chair, like an electric current ran through me. His hot tongue licked up the pad of my toe and his stare penetrated every part of my being.

“You taste like fine wine.” His full lips encased my toe, sucking and licking.  When he introduced his tongue in between my toes, I levitated out of the chair, awestruck. With his tongue attached to my toes, there seemed to be a direct link to my nipples and clit. He created a circuit and I surged.

“I bet you are wet now, let me see.”

I pulled my hand out of my panties, drenched again and wiped across my toes as he moved forward smelling me. I raked my fingers over his lips. His teeth nipped me and caught my finger holding it in place while his tongue worked it over. On the verge of an orgasm, I gasped.

“I’m getting you off now.”

“Yes, yes.”

My hand found the perfect groove between my lips and clit and stroked. He continued his artistic tongue moves. When he sucked me, I edged closer to orgasm. He took all of my toes in his mouth and I imploded. It was as if my clit was my foot and my foot was my clit. Sensations wracked through my body and my spasms and jerks bumped the table reminding me of my situation.

Relaxing into the warm body sensations of post orgasmic glow, he lightened his touch. My foot was so sensitive, like my clit after orgasm. He kissed my big toe and sat in his chair.

He looked back to the chess board and picked up his piece. Poised to place it on the board, I knew his next words. Under the table, I moved my other foot and placed it on his massive erection.

“Checkmate.” 


Getting off is half the fun, check out other Masturbation Monday stories. Click Here.

 
 
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Erin completed her first female sexuality class and intended to show Jordan what she learned. A lot of thought and energy created the sexual menu for the evening. Jordan liked things hot and Erin desired to spice things up but taking the lead was outside her comfort zone.

“Hey, Baby. I got your message. What’s up?” Jordan closed the door and threw his backpack in the arm chair. Erin strolled into the room wearing a skimpy robe and a smile. Her cleavage peeked out. She loved the lined expressions on his face, heat, and confusion rolled together.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Call me Surprised.” He stepped forward. Wagging her finger, no, he stopped.

“Tonight, I’m serving up my sexual menu.”

Erin walked over to Jordan and planted a heated kiss on his lips. He swayed when her fragrance hit his nose. That helped to bolster her confidence.

“So, you’re running the show.”

“You’re a quick study.” She pushed him away from her. “First, you will strip for me and make it good.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Do you need some incentive?” Erin opened the top of her robe for Jordan to see her black cage bra with her hard points begging for him.  She had never worn anything like it. She gauged its effect by his erection which engaged him. Erin walked to the living room where she had placed a single chair and stood behind it watching him.

“Are you stripping, too?”

“Maybe.”

Jordan slowly unbuttoned his shirt pulling the tail from his pants. Erin appreciated the details of his hard body. His chest and abs turned her on. He winked at her.

“Make this worth my while.”

He shrugged the shirt off and ran his hands over his own body indicating he was into the surprise. Yes, he turned her on. He unbuttoned and unzipped the pants but let them hang on his hips. She loved that spot over his hip bone, gorgeous man landscape. Her tongue enjoyed the dip and hollow there while she played with his cock. She knew why he paused. It was his attempt to be in charge, but not tonight. Their eyes locked in a gaze of daring and she planned to win.

“Jordan, make me wait and you’ll miss out.” He shook his head and pushed the pants off his hips and they hit the floor. Her pussy lips throbbed when she saw his erection. When he rubbed it, she began to drip.

“Come over here and put your hands on the back of the chair.” After he complied, she stood in front of him, naked nipples in view and untied the robe. The red heart she’d drawn on her stomach pointed to her crotch-less panties. Jordan’s heart rate spiked and his erection stiffened. Coming around him, she placed her fingers on his waist and dipped into her favorite spot. She nuzzled his ear. “Are you sure you’re ready to play?” He arched into her when she ran her nipples on his back.

“Oh, yeah.”

She grabbed the waistband of his briefs and jerked them past his tight ass. She massaged each cheek and then slapped him, several times. She liked the idea of her hand leaving love marks on him.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, and I like this bossy side of you.” He started to reach for her.

“The boss wants you to sit, Jordan.” With his briefs riding low, his naked ass landed in the chair.

“You look a little bunched up there, let me help.” She knelt and tugged on his briefs, sliding them off his legs. His hard cock sprang up and she gave it a lick.

“Close your eyes.” He played along. He heard clinking and snaps but wasn’t sure what it was. “Baby, hold each hand by your side.” With two clicks, she’d handcuffed him to the chair.

“Well, this is interesting.” He wiggled his hands testing his limits.

“Yes, now you are mine.”

Jordan grinned. “I didn’t know you had this in you.” She wasn’t sure she did either but the more she stepped into the role, the more she liked it. This might be her new beginning.

“Get ready.”

Could the view get any better? This hunk of a man sported an erection, sitting naked and cuffed to a piece of furniture. She dropped her robe and circled the chair. Jordan’s gaze never left her body. A vein bulged and pulsed at his temple. It had finally happened, she affected him. That was what she had wanted.

In his direct line of sight, she bent over to retrieve her robe from the floor. Her lingerie bottoms showcased her ass but his tongue wanted to be in her wet center. She smiled hearing the handcuffs jingle in his movement.

“You are killing me here. I’m so hard I might explode. I want inside you, get on over here.”

“All in good time.” She walked out of the room, her robe dragging behind her. She could feel his stare on her ass.

She returned with a bowl in her hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make you feel so good it hurts.”

She picked out an ice cube and drew a circle around his nipples.  He moaned and lifted off the chair. She guided the ice cube south, on the center line of his body, watching his skin pucker.

“AAahh, babe was that too intense? Maybe sucking on something will make you feel better.” Erin brushed her nipple over his lips. “Suck me, Jordan.”

He rolled his tongue on her nipple and then sucked. His expert tongue action activated her clit but she pulled back from him. She never imagined she would like this control, edging both of them, dictating her wants and his pleasure.

“You do good work with incentives.”

With an ice cube in each hand, she worked over both his nipples. Through his gritted teeth, he emitted muddled sounds.

“Okay Erin, can I have something good now.”

She looked at his erection. “This ice got me thinking, I want something cold. But before I get it, here’s a little reward.” She kissed his bottom lip and sunk her teeth in as her fingers wrapped around his cock giving him a couple of strokes. When she parted her lips, his tongue took off on a mission to locate hers. He sucked hard when he found it. She caressed his shoulders while she positioned herself on his bare thighs and rubbed her breasts into his chest. The cold spots of his nipples hit her skin and she shivered. Jordan pressed his body into hers, hoping for more contact.

“Come on baby, you feel my cock, I am so ready.”

“Not quite, yet.” Sinking both hands on his shoulders for leverage, she slid her ass up his thighs and tilted her pussy flat against his erection and rocked on his length.

“Yeah, that’s it. You feel so good, wet and hot.”

“But I’m going to feel even better. Be right back.”

“No, baby, no.”

She left the room again and came back holding a sorbet carton with a spoon stuck in the middle.

“I always wanted to pretend you were a Popsicle. Tonight you are one.” She read the label. “Hmmm, mango sorbet.”

“Ah baby, that’s going to be so cold.”

“Have some faith in me here, Jordan.”

After she sat the container on the floor, she took his cock in her hand and swirled her tongue across the head. Jordan’s fitful breathing echoed in the room.

“Erin.”

The tension in his legs felt good under her other palm. As she closed her mouth over his erection and went down, she found the power. She provided pleasure like she wanted. Up and down, she licked and kissed until he squirmed and she wanted him to squirm.

“Time for a break.” She picked up the sorbet and spooned some in her mouth. “Your penis is so inviting.” With a mouthful of sorbet, she went down on him again. Air whistled through his teeth. The mix was incredible, hot cock and mango. She sucked all traces of mango flavor away. She backed off before he came, sat back on her heels and leisurely ate more sorbet.

“You are killing me, you know, my nuts are going to explode.” She dabbed some sorbet on her nipple and it began to melt and run on her breast.”

“Lick me and I will think about giving you more pleasure.” She moved within tongue reach and Jordan lapped up the sorbet. His tongue danced his need over her skin. His nips and bites signaled he was ready. His tongue lavished her everywhere he could reach. Telling him what to do was hot. She like calling the shots more than she ever imagined and it hit her hard. It was time. She wanted his cock, now.

Straddling his lap, boobs in his face, she centered up and settled over his cock. She inched him inside her, all the way. His priceless expression formed a perfect “o” shaped mouth.

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do it.” His rattled voiced indicated intensity, desire, and lust.

“Let me fuck you.”

“I can do that.”

She held onto his shoulders, picked a pace and drove him inside her, over and over. Jordan’s erratic breathing meant this orgasm would be fast. The build-up was nothing like she had ever experienced before. Surrounded by the creaks from the chair, jingling cuffs, and Jordan’s moans, she surged on. When he threw back his head and belted out a gut-groan, she had accomplished her goal. She wrapped herself tightly around his body and rode out their orgasms. When her spasms stopped she pulled back and looked at his face.

“How are you doing, babe?”

“Wow. Just wow.”

“That was pretty explosive.”

“Can you take the cuffs off now?”

“Of course.” She pulled the key from her bra band and unlocked him. After he rubbed his wrists and wiggled his fingers, he drew her face to his and kissed her deeply.

“What was that for?”

“Making a sexual menu for me.”

Erin laughed. “Dr. J. said you’d love it.”

He pinched her nipple. “Oh, I loved it. Did Dr. J. tell you, if you make one for me, that means I get to make one for you?” 

To enjoy other experiences on the sexual continuum visit Wicked Wednesday. Click here.


 
 
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I’m not sure in the course of the play when his presence filtered into my awareness. He sat front row, stage left, opposite my front center-stage, end-row seat. It was a three-sided audience. I’m not sure what I noticed first about him? Was it his dark wavy hair, longish, with a matching two-day scruff beard? Or was it the blue, dress shirt that highlighted his eyes with tails that peeked out from his navy blazer? Perhaps it was his hiking boots that he propped on his denim-clad knee when he changed positions in the seat? Director, actor, or lover? He eased himself into his chair like he belonged. He was a man who knew what he liked. The essence of his movements called to me like specific stage directions.

Who knew on this evening I would enjoy the interaction of the play and him. He observed the actors with a discerning eye. Was it the same way he looked at a partner during sex? He reached down and picked up his beer bottle and sipped several times then placed it back on the floor. His movements were elegant. I scrutinized his hands, hands that might wander over my body.

At that moment, in the scene, an actress ripped off her blouse to change clothes and unexpectedly her left breast escaped from her bra. A mere three feet from her, I straightened in my seat to survey his response. His eyes dilated and his chest rose and fell quickly. He crossed and uncrossed his legs. When he licked his lips, I lost it. He turned my body’s switch on. My sex hummed. The need of it pushed me out of my seat. I exited my row and headed to find a private space.

The dark hallway and thick black drapes hid me. I fumbled, pulling my dress up, while in my mind, his lips and tongue played on my body. Plastered against the wall, one hand squeezed my breast and pinched my nipple. My other hand pushed aside my panties and my fingers became his tongue licking across my vulva lips. Drenched. I imagined how he looked at the actress’s breast. Aroused, he had to have me. I punished my clit with pinching and slapping. I held in the gasp that attempted to escape me. My ass rammed the wall hard from my back and forth body motion. Fingers delved inside or was it his tongue or his cock? My body reeled. Never had I been so bold, so wanton. I wanted him and I had him. All the air and energy heaved out of me as the orgasm took over. Soaring out to all parts of my body, I accepted the intensity and the explosion with his face etched across my mind.

Voices from the play flitted back into my awareness. I smoothed down my dress and wiped my hand on the inside hem. How far along was the play? Should I go back in?

Deciding to check, I eased the drapes back and a big, male body met mine. I moved from fantasy to reality. Heat flushed up my chest and neck. The intensity of his eyes mixed with the aroma of my hallway efforts filtered through my perceptions and I swooned. When he looked me up and down, I couldn’t breathe. His nostrils flared and then he licked his lips.

“It smells like sex.” He grabbed my hand. “Come with me.”

“I already did.”

“Perfect, you are warmed up. I need to know if reality is as good as my fantasy.”

In the dark hallway, thick black drapes hid us. He fumbled, pulling my dress up while his lips and tongue played on my body. Plastered against the wall, reality conquered fantasy.

Notes: Writing ideas emerge in everyday life. Saturday night I attended a play. There was indeed an intriguing man who sparked my imagination. This story is for him.

For other Masturbation Monday stories, CLICK HERE.


 
 
As a beginning erotic writer, I am making exciting connections with others in the genre. These authors are wonderfully supportive, kind, and helpful. One of my favorite new writing friends hails from Australia, Adrea Kore. From the other side of my world, her lyrical style and use of metaphor intrigue and move me. I told her, that when my writing grew up, it wanted to be like hers.

This week Adrea made a comment on twitter about a blog post. Because no one left comments, she wondered why it was popular. I read and absorbed her profound words. I have a few thoughts on the post that were bigger than her comment box. I humbly submit this to you, Adrea, with gratitude and admiration.

Comments to Adrea Kore’s post: The Story of O: Writing the Orgasm in Erotica

You give us orgasm poetry, otherworldly and ethereal. You invite us into that gap, the place where few women choose to fully expand into who they are. You provide a platform to seek that place. You offer us orgasms in their truest form, the height of vulnerability and the depth of power.

You take us to a place of joy and unification within the female self, acknowledging the political but giving us access to the personal. You embody the intricate layers of a woman and demonstrate how an orgasm can be lived, experienced, and appreciated, in all of life, not just sex.

Your own orgasm transcends the physical world of technique and efforts. This is best seen in your words, “…that they were more often delicious overlapping waves of different intensities through your entire body? What if, like me, you saw explosions of white light behind your eyelids…?”

You lead us on a journey where personal research and experience demonstrate we can do for ourselves, just as you did; creating what had yet to be made. From the fiber of your being, you crafted yourself for us to see, eloquently described by your words, “I chose to finally focus more consciously on drawing out my thoughts around this idea –writing myself – the stories my body wanted to tell.” I recognize that sentiment. That’s how my first children’s book on sexuality was born.  The vital force of a coupling with inspiration and permission births something new, just as you express.

As a courageous woman, you dared to make the journey into the self. In so doing you melded the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual components to explore the vast magnificence of a female sexuality landscape and the power of orgasm. You went there and came back. This is what I believe makes this blog post popular, you provided the result; you delivered the elixir to all of us. May we all be so brave as to follow your lead. You not only shined a light on orgasm, you reflected its essence and beauty through you.

 
 
“It’s not a race, Cher.”

“I know, but I’m nervous and excited.”

“Don’t worry about them.” He ran his nose over the bridge of hers. “I’ll get you where you want to go.”

“Hmmm. I’m not worried. But it is our first time. How many are watching?” She lifted her head to look around him knowing she would see nothing, but they would see her.

“Why do you need to know?”

“I am…counting… hands.”

“What the hell, my hands are the only ones you need to be considering. Observing is all they get, not even sound.” His big body hovered over her as he stroked her face and then his thumb added more pressure on her clit. She moaned.

“Aaah. Oh yeah. But will they enjoy it?”

“Baby, when you get off they will.”

“Will they know I crave your big fingers taking charge?” After grabbing his free hand, she nipped a finger with her teeth, and sucked it into her mouth.

“Yep, when they see you arch up into my hand, over and over, they’ll know.” She bucked up into his other fingers. This man played her like a fine fiddle. “Oh, yeah, feel me.”

“You know Trey your cock turns me on.” She worked an easy stroke on him. “I think of it as my sex knob, my handle on you.”

“You handle it so well.”

“Why does talking about it make me hot?”

“Maybe, because it is direct, words turn into action.” Making his point, he pulsed a rhythmic beat inside her with two fingers, searching.

“This show is for you, remember.”

“Then why’d you slow down on my cock?”

“Sorry baby, I thought you wanted to focus on me.” She grinned.

“You thought so, did you?” He pumped three fingers inside. She gasped.

“They don’t know how exquisite this feels.”

“Nope. Only, I do, Cher. They wish they did.”

“So Trey, this is what you wanted, being the warm up for somebody else’s sex play. How is it?”

“It’s pretty hot.”

“I’m warming up to them watching you own my pussy.”

“They’ll watch me undo you. But they won’t know your secrets. They have no idea how much clamping those nipple piercings get you going.”

Her ragged breathing filled the room and his other hand grabbed her hair and pulled.

“Are we going to do that today?”

“Maybe. What if one of those watchers was in here and working your nipples over?”

“You mean pulling on them while you fuck me with your hands?” Her fingers toyed with her piercing.

“Uh huh.”

“Clamp them just before my orgasm.” Her panting filled his ears.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She bit her lip as she ground into his stroking hand. “I like them seeing you twist under my hands.”

“Yeah. Are you going to pinch my clit?”

“Look at you trying to tell me what to do. Pump my cock now, Cherie. Share the love.”

She wrapped her fingers around him. He surged with sexual power. She felt his command in her hands and she lived it through his fingers.

“What do you want, Trey?”

“Tease them with what they will never have.”

“How?”

“Draw your knees up. Open the view of your gorgeous pussy.”

“You want them to see what’s yours.”

“Oh, yeah, baby. And then I’m going to show them it’s mine.”

With her knees up and out, he flattened out across her body with his face to the audience and in line with her pussy. She loved it when he held her down.

“Hey, remember me. I want your hand on my dick.”

With him across her, his dick maintained their connection.

“What are you doing?”

“Making faces at the camera. Licking my lips so they see how your wet, juicy pussy turns me on.”

“The heat of your breath is driving me crazy.”

“Good. How about this?” He flicked his pointed tongue over her clit and she groaned.

“Or this?” He licked down her pussy and wiggled his tongue on her asshole. She lifted off the table.

“Oh, nice response. Let me try it again.” He sucked on her nub then his lips and tongue went south.  Her nerve endings were on fire.

“oooh Trey, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

“But Cher, I want to fuck you good for the guests. Stay with me here.”

Restrained by his large body and in sheer sexual ecstasy, she stroked him with one hand and pinched her nipple with the other. He worked her over with his mouth.

She could feel the eyes on her, many eyes. If their hands could be on her, how many would there be? They would touch her everywhere. What about tongues and lips, everywhere? Oh, yes.

“Oh, man, Trey, I’m coming.”

His tongue and fingers danced across her skin. With his lips latched onto her clit, he pumped his two fingers in her pussy and a pinky in her ass. She broke through on his third pump. Both arms dropped out to her sides, spread eagle. With her head thrown back, he took her and everyone watched. While her entire body convulsed, he absorbed it all. His weight allowed her to ride out the orgasm like she was floating on a beach raft cresting waves. Somewhere far away, she heard a faint click.

“You are so beautiful when you come.”

“Trey, only you get me there.”

“Is everyone gone?”

“Yeah, I shut off the computer.”

“Can I show my appreciation?” She reached for his massive hard on. “You knew the camera would make me insane.”

“I did. But I love what I get from you after you get yours.”

“How about we use the chain nipple clips so when I ride your lap hard, you hold on and work them as you see fit.”

“You keep me hot.”  

“It’s what I aspire to do.” 

Writing for Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday. Click on each and find out how getting off is half the fun and to what writers aspire.
 
 
Daniel really cares and he listened. I just hadn’t realized it yet. My jazz piano guy loved to take me to his gigs. Through no fault of my own, I fell asleep to jazz. I love it but it puts me in a trance state. I become mellow and fluid and then sleep followed. It was the equivalent of good booze or drugs intermingling in my system. But Daniel studied his audience, namely me.

“I have some tunes for us to hear tonight.”

“Oh boy, sleeping music time?”

“Yes, but no, I hope. You do react to different instruments and I had an idea I wanted to try out.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“We’re going at ten o’clock to the Duke. Wear a dress or a skirt, okay?”

“Well, this is interesting, a request for me on jazz night. Are you going to be blowing notes up my skirt?”

“Maybe. What can I say is that you inspire me?” His smirk sent little pulses to my nipples and clit.

When we arrived at the venue, a hip looking dude ambled our way.

“Daniel, hey man. Is this your lady?”

“Violet, I’d like you to meet my friend, Buster. He is a world-renowned jazz sax player.”

“Hello. Am I getting a private concert tonight?

He chuckled. “This is Daniel’s show. He called in a favor. I’m just following my marching orders.” I looked at Daniel but had no clue what transpired here. “I’ll take my place now. I hope you enjoy the surprise, Violet.”

Daniel shuffled me to a small room with a sofa. The Duke was known for catering to small private groups for the right price. Clearly, the insider music world met the criteria.

“What are we doing here Daniel?”

“I placed us in a sound controlled room to tease out the elements. We are trying a sexual experiment.”

“Tonight’s about sex?”

“Hey, you know my two favorite things are jazz and sex. I’m going for a combo.” He winked at me.

“Well look, I’m in the right place. There’s a couch in here, for when I fall asleep.”

“I don’t expect you to be sleeping tonight.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me close. “I masterminded a way to capture your attention.”

Sultry saxophone notes filtered into the room. The large, round centers of the tower speakers pulsed as the sound came out. They were in all four corners pounding out the rhythmic vibrations and my insides quivered.

“I am going to lead you into these full, round sax notes. I think the conversation between the jazz instruments overwhelms you. That’s the mechanism that puts you to sleep.” Daniel extended his hand for me to dance.

He was full of surprises. Usually, I watched him create music. Tonight, he sported sexy dance moves but the intense musician stance remained like when he prepared for a show. He wrapped us in the dark notes and we moved to the soulful sounds.

“So this is seduction by composition?”

“You could say that. I think the saxophone extends an invitation.”

“So far it’s a hot invitation.”

“I set a course of music for Buster to play that includes some surprises.”

“So you think I’m staying awake?”

“Uh-huh, I do.”

Daniel had slid his hands down my ass until he had both hands full. “If you keep moving your fingers like that then maybe I will.”

“Ssssh, listen.” He inched my dress up and palmed my soft skin. A rock hard cock met my hip.

Surrounded by smooth sounds that made me think of bourbon, I was tuned in and clearly accepting this invitation.

Sequential songs played. Daniel had composed a symphony of sex. The pace and rhythm increased but vibrant notes were held longer. In those moments, Daniel’s fingers toyed with my panties and then slipped them beneath. This man knew me he was intent to play the songs in me, on me, and through me. My clit was throbbing and his movements transported me into the heart of this musical set. Slow, sweet kisses moved into hot, passionate ones. After this warm up, I was one horny woman and he continued to rub his body and hands all over me. Everything in the room oscillated… the walls, the speakers, and me.

Daniel danced us over to the couch and stopped behind it.

“Vi, I’m going to fuck you now.”

“About time.” I was ready. Forget vibrators, they had nothing on this room as it buzzed my entire body.

He positioned me facing the back of the couch. I shivered as his fingers walked up my thighs and he massaged my ass, edging closer to my wet self. When he flipped my skirt up, the air hit my skin and ripples of excitement ran through me. Raspy, soulful wailing notes came through the speakers. They directed my need and want. They were like fingers pressing inside my hot spot, over and over. They ignited my desire. The word merge flew into my head. Merge it all.

“Bend over the couch and hold on, babe.”

I pulsed. Daniel unzipped his pants and then his erection nudged my sex. He surged a little beat like he was waiting for his musical cue to play. The room filled with raspy, edgy, and rough notes and Daniel joined in. He hands claimed my ass. He revved up and held on. His cock filled me at every note. We were instruments, one playing, and one getting played.

The riff felt endless and then it landed on one last note. I had never felt so alive. Every sound and touch reverberated through my being. I’m a note. Merge. I’m a note. I burst into orgasm and its bright essence encased me.

As Daniel pounded, I became the notes ripped off the sheet music and dangling in the air.

Sounds subsided and my body stilled. Daniel scooped me up in his arms and settled us on the sofa. I snuggled in his lap and he stroked my hair.

“What was that last note?”

“That was my favorite, a G.”

“Well, if I were a note, then I’d be a G.”

“You were a gorgeous one.”

“You put a lot of effort into this little project.”

“Was it worth it babe?”

“Best orgasm ever. I think I like jazz saxophone. That last piece was phenomenal. What’s it called?”

Daniel chuckled.

“It’s called, Give Me More of that G Note.”

“Yeah, right.” I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep. 

To enjoy other Musical Interludes on WICKED WEDNESDAY Click here.

 
 
“Where is your old typewriter?” asked Alexandra.

“It’s in the hall closet.” Stephan looked up from his art easel in the studio. His seductive gaze held her, as did his stance, edgy and ready.  “You need it for what?

“Project for my writing class,” said Alex as she bent over to pick it up.

Alexandra set the machine on her desk and reread the assignment.  Address your specific audience. Type a communication to imprint the reader’s soul like a key strike of an old typewriter stamps a letter through the ribbon onto the paper.

After loading a sheet paper, she typed.

To Stephan,

I want to be your medium for erotic art.

Permit me to be your muse.

Do carnal things with me. Explore me; to your liking. Chose the angle that best exemplifies your work and then photograph me, paint me, film me. 

Bind my skin and push my limits.

I want to experience your presence by the dig of a rope as it holds me in place.

Pinch me, clamp me, and hook me in the ass.

Smack my skin to create your desired color palate and then smack me some more.

Let me be life art for you.

Fill my holes, then decorate my skin with dripped wax, then fill me again. Document what you will.

Just devour me,

devour me,

devour me.

I totally surrender myself to you, only you.

Have I earned the right submit?

You know what’s best for me.

In quiet moments alone, I dream of your tongue, your fingers, and your cock filling me.

As extensions of you, I worship them. My spirit soars to the idea.

Together, we can affirm life as we hover in the space between pain and pleasure, lust and love with our hearts and minds.

Sear my body and my soul.

Just brand me.

Alexandra left the typewriter, horny and needful. Dare I release the tension writing created?

She walked into the kitchen grabbed an orange and a fork. She jammed the fork tine in the peel and pulled back. A squirt of juice landed on her chest; the scent filled the room. After peeling, she stared at the naked orange in her hand; she closed her eyes and plunged her thumb inside then, again and again.  

It was Stephan.

It was her.

A creak in the hallway interrupted her, and she opened her eyes. Wrapping the orange in a paper towel, she headed back to her project.

A new sheet of paper perched up in the typewriter. Alexandra’s chest tightened when she leaned closer. Stephan’s words.

Further south, her pelvis throbbed, she flushed with heat, and her heart skipped a beat.

To Alexandra,

Your words inspired me.

Please be my muse.

You, as a medium for sexual art, would be a cherished gift.

Any modeling requires training.

Textures will be our first theme.

Bring the orange and the peel.

Come, now, to the studio.

I await you.

And, bring the fork.
 
For all other flashing, please check out Friday Flash. Click Here.

 
 
Two years from my human sexuality college classroom, I watched Facebook announcements of at least ten more of my students graduating.  While I am proud and happy, it saddened me to realize the rhythm of college semesters is fading for me. It didn’t escape me that I wrote this prompt about milestones, couched within a college semester window. A new life focused on writing moves me along a new, delightful ebb and flow.

So what has my writing semester life, from January to April, given me?

This current writing marks my tenth Wicked Wednesday contribution. I posted eight times for Masturbation Monday and three times for Friday Flash.

I have five short stories out for publishing consideration.

I was invited to create a story for an anthology.

To date, the first draft of my novel weighs in at 56,000 words.

I launched my website to the world the end of January. The magic number of zero readers vanished from my life. As I wrote this, it humbled me to note that 1570 unique visitors stopped by my website 2,433 times and checked out 7,744 pages. Analyzing website statistics was breathtaking, but my experience was positive. The researcher in me beamed at the outcomes.

The act of erotic creative writing was a step out of my comfort zone. Burning inside me was the desire to craft erotic fiction and now I have met that milestone. My stories arrived from my many moods, sparked by whimsy, inspiration, or desire. If the way one has sex is as individual as a fingerprint or snowflake, then so is writing about sex. Perhaps it is even more vulnerable than the act of sex itself. Through writing, more people have seen me naked, exposed, and wanting. Do they know I was open to discovery, attempting to capture a specific moment, and then making it a memory with words?

Unlike teaching, writing is a solitary journey. Writing within the community of erotic prompts has assisted me with my creative endeavors. As such, Wicked Wednesday became an integral part of my weekly routine. I send up thanks and appreciation for all the authors and the readers of Wicked Wednesday, but most especially for the host of Wicked Wednesday, Marie Rebelle. Thank you all for welcoming me into the erotic writing community.

I also want to congratulate Marie Rebelle on her MILESTONE. I look forward to reading her sexy book. 

For more Wicked Wednesday reflections on Milestones, click here.  

 
 
I walked into the living room and spotted Dave on the couch, reading a book. There was an immediate lightness in my chest but I kept my focus on him. My “getting off” plan was underway. I sauntered over, removed the book from his hands and sat on his lap.

“What is up with you?” he asked.

“You’ll figure it out.” I leaned back and rested my head on the arm of the couch and he stroked my arm. He leaned over further inspecting me and touched my forehead.

“What’s this?” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together testing the substance. His eyes lit up. “Let me see your fingers.” Hearing the slight tremble in his voice, I offered up both my hands. He lifted them to his nose and inhaled. I loved the expression on his face when the clues registered. A grin couldn’t get much bigger.

“Ah, babe, you didn’t?”

“Oh, but, I did.”

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I want your undivided attention and a big, juicy orgasm.” He glimpsed at the clock on the wall. He acted fast like I expected he would. Pushing me up off his lap, he stood.

“I’m going to undress you, properly.” He pulled me to my feet and standing in front of me, his nostrils flared. Butterflies flitted around in my midsection. He held my gaze as he unbuttoned all my buttons and then dropped my blouse to the floor. My temperature rose. This man’s attention was like an unknown sexual element that maneuvered on its own terms. But I could activate it.

“No bra.”

“And no panties.”

He ran his finger from the tip of my chin to my throat and my breathing stuttered. I rose up on my toes to accept every touch. When he spread two fingers out between my breasts, he traced my skin south over my belly button and then lower. When his fingers went inside me, the circuit connected and I craved his mouth on me. I rolled my finger around my nipple and then popped it in my mouth, sucking. This man took suggestions so well.

He leaned in and licked my nipple. “Oh, my God, what have you done Jamie?” I chortled as he latched onto my nipple and nipped me. I stroked his shoulders and held him tight as he lavished both nipples. My hands dipped into his pants and squeezed his tight ass. He thrust his pelvis forward and I pulled him closer to feel the erection I knew was there. He checked the clock again.

“Pants off now,” he said.

“Not so fast. Take off your shirt.” He pulled his tee shirt over his head and I nuzzled his chest taking in his scent and letting it work its magic for me. I swirled my tongue around his nipples and lightly sucked.

“Your nipples taste better you know,” he said.

“Yeah, but only to you.”

My breasts cradled below his chest squirming against him. He unsnapped my pants and eased them right down my body.

Naked, I met his gleaming eyes and smiled. I reached out to unfasten his jeans but he stopped me.

“I got this. You are the focus.”

“I’m glad you have your priorities in order, but maybe I want some of you for me?” I cupped his crotch and rubbed up his length. He ran his open mouth and teeth on my neck. I gasped. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to free his penis.

“Come on Jamie, back to the couch.” He sat first and pulled me on him. His hands were everywhere reminding me of sensations I loved.

With my back sprawled out on top of his bare chest, Dave’s hand cupped my pussy and then gave me a sweet slap. I vibrated. After he tested my wetness, he slid his fingers over my clit and he worked me over. His lips nuzzled my jawline as his left hand clasped my neck, holding me in place. The pressure was just right. This man understood my body and what made me tick.

My full hands delighted me, his hard cock in one and my soft breast in the other. I kneaded both. Our in sync motions pushed me to the brink, but I held off coming. Drift. Build. Hover. I wanted my orgasm with his reaction, so I waited in pleasure filled lust haze.

When the anticipated aroma filled the room, it was sweet and seductive. I detected it before he did, and I smiled. I recognized the second it hit his nose and as intended, it spurred him on.

“Ah, baby, damn, it’s good,” he said.

I pinched my nipple and squeezed his cock as his frenzied motions on my clit, on my jaw, and the pressure on my neck combined for a robust, juicy orgasm. I pumped him to orgasm just as the timer buzzed.

“I better get up,” I said.

“You sure, I don’t mind.”

“No, I got this.”

“Hey, was that a new cinnamon glaze on your nipples?  Is it on the pie?”

“Oh, my apple pie lover, I can’t get anything past you.” I sashayed to the kitchen envisioning my next pie move. Dave didn’t have a clue about the orgasm that would be served up.


How many ways to get off??? Masturbation Monday will help. Click Here.

 

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