Month: October 2015

Wicked Wednesdays with Tess, Presents…Diabolically Yours

(Due to some unforeseen technical issues, I am wrapping up the Wicked Wednesday Series, a little late.  But I hope you find this worth the wait. Presenting a tale from my own darkside…the devil is in the details.  Hope you enjoy!)

The Halloween season always brought him to mind. It had been years since they’d been together. Regardless of space and time, he left an indelible mark on her psyche. This man, stirred her to the core unlike anyone else. And on this dark and desolate evening, she pined for him.

He was an enigma and almost seemed as if he was not of this world. Larger than life. There was a darkness within him that drew her in. It engulfed her like the flames and embers from hell itself. The burn….the wonderful slow burn.

I wonder where he is now, she thought to herself. And in the same breath, she dismissed the thought as a lost cause. He had moved far away and reconnecting would be difficult. For all she knew…he was married with kids and a lovely wife, living in the suburbs…blending in with the rest of society.

But again…this was him. He wasn’t the type to “blend in” anywhere. He was a different breed of man and not the type to settle down. She knew that type of personality well….as she found herself still single. She could never find anyone who understood and embraced her restless spirit.

After reliving their tumultuous affair in her mind, she decided to look him up online. It only took a few minutes and she found him. He was not married with kids. And he was not halfway across the country. He was less than an hour away. Her stomach stirred….her heart raced. What to do? Do I contact him…she thought. Do I leave it alone?

And before she knew it, her phone rang. There was no number, it simply read “unknown” and she surmised it was likely a telemarketer, as she had been bombarded with them since changing her number. After a few seconds, she noticed the caller left a voicemail message. And she also noticed it was after 10:00 pm…not a typical time for such calls.

She played the voicemail and immediately recognized the voice. It was dark and brooding. It was HIM! It had been less than fifteen minutes since she’d looked him up. Her cell number was new. How could he have found her so quickly? How did he know? Was he thinking of her too? It just seemed weird and predestined.

His message was short, “It’s me. You know who I am. I was just thinking of you and would love to talk. Call me.” Just hearing his voice gave her butterflies. She composed herself and dialed his number.

“Hello, Elise. I am happy you called.”

“Hello, Jude. How are you?” she asked

“Better now. I’ve been thinking of you a lot lately. I would love to see you. When can we meet?” he was direct and to-the-point, as always.

Taken aback and burning with excitement, she managed to stutter her response, “I am free tomorrow, if you are?”

He paused for a few seconds, “That works, but I was thinking about now.”

She looked around at the disarray in her house. She had been working long hours all week and hadn’t tidied up at all. There’s no way she could have him over, but she found herself saying, “Okay. Good”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in an hour.” And before she could respond, he hung up the call. Does he even know where she lives? She attempted to call him back and the number he gave her was not valid. What the hell?

She got herself ready. She recalled what he liked her to wear…corsets. She fumbled through her lingere chest and found the perfect one. It was black lace with silver accents. It laced up in the back. She shimmied herself into it, tying it as tightly as she could. She looked at herself in the mirrot. “wow…i’ve still got it” she muttered. She drew closer to her reflection. Her eyes looked funny. The hazel/green color looked darker. Before she could look any longer, her phone rang.

“Is this Elise?” it was a woman’s voice on the line.

“Yes, it is. Who is this?” she asked. After all it was almost 11:00 pm.

“I am Jude’s driver. I am in route to pick you up. Are you ready?”

“Yes, well almost. I will be in a few minutes.” and the phone went silent.

Moments later, she heard a knock at the door. Standing there was a tall blond woman wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater, black skirt and boots. She was gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail and her skin was as white as porcelain. Her eyes were dark and her lips were red.

She grabbed her keys, purse and phone and followed his driver.

The driver ushered her into a large black SUV. She felt the tightness of the corset through her black dress. Her stilettos looked amazing with the dress. She felt sexy in her clothes. She wondered if he would approve.

And just then, her phone rang. It was him.

“Did Tasha pick you up?” he asked.

“Yes. You must be very important to have your own driver.” she jeered.

He laughed and said, “I will see you soon, Elise.”

Elise had no idea where she was going. The driver mentioned the location, but it was not anywhere that Elise recognized. They crossed over a river on a old rickety bridge. It rattled and swayed as they made their way to the other side.

“That’s it up ahead.” Tasha said.

There was a stone wall around the property and the wrought iron gate squeaked as it opened for them to pass through. The house was enormous. It looked like a medieval castle, or a royal estate. She was puzzled. She didn’t recall him being wealthy. The last time they saw each other, he lived in a loft apartment on the river.

“What kind of work does Jude do?” she asked the driver.

Tasha replied, “He’s into a lot of different things. He’s very good at what he does.”

And just like that, she pulled into the side garage. He was standing there to greet her.

“Hello, Elise.” he held out his hand and helped her out of the vehicle. He was still as handsome as before.  He was wearing all black also.  His physique was perfect.  She could tell by the way he looked at her that he liked what he saw. “It’s been a long time. You look great. Just as I remembered. Come with me, I’ll show you in.”

They entered the large dining room. The table was huge and could easily seat 40 or more. There was a place set for the two of them. He guided her over to her place and pushed her chair to the table.

“I thought we would have a light meal as we catch up.”

She was speechless. It was almost too much. The house…no the mansion was gorgeous…the stuff of celebrities. The meal before them looked to be gourmet. And he was as striking as always. Tall. Dark. Brooding. He hadn’t changed at all. In fact, he looked like he had aged in reverse.

They ate as they caught up on the last 10 years. He spoke of his new business and how he been very fortunate to land a couple of profitable deals that lead to his success. She told him about finishing her Masters degree and opening up a counseling center to help troubled children. They chatted on an on, picking right up where they left off. The chemistry between them felt more intense than before.

“Were you surprised to hear from me tonight?”

She smiled shyly, “Yes and no. I was actually looking you up online when you called me. How did you get my number?”

He grinned, “I have my ways.”

“How did you know where I live? You’re not a stalker are you?” she joked.

“No I am not a stalker.” His tone was a bit different. He moved in closer to her. He moved her hair back from her neck and whispered, “No, Elise. I am not a stalker. I conjured you”

She snickered, “You conjured me? Ha! Maybe I conjured you! I have been thinking of you a lot lately.”

He was very serious, “Yes I know. That’s how I was able to find you. Your thoughts led me to you.”

She was beginning to get a bit creeped out. Had he gone mad since she last saw him. What the hell was he talking about???

“You don’t remember, do you?” he asked.

“Remember what?” she asked.

“Your promise to me. What you promised to give me?” he said.

Her mind was racing. What had she promised him so many years ago? What was it he wanted from her? They were never really a couple. They were more of a physical thing. He was a sadist who found pleasure in pushing her limits. There was no real relationship. They fed off of each other. Their sex was ethereal and molten hot. But she began a serious relationship with another and they soon went their separate ways. She tried to piece together their last encounter.

“I don’t remember. I am sorry. What did I promise you?” she nervously asked.

He laughed and took her face into his hands. He kissed her and she was transformed back to their last tryst. She was tied to his bed, legs spread wide as he poured hot wax all over her form. The sting was painful and sweet and he tormented her for what felt like hours. He asked her, “who do you belong to?”

She could hear herself…from 10 years ago, say, “I belong to you.”

“Do I have your mind? Your body? Your soul?” he asked.

In a breathless whisper, she said, “Yes. You have all of me.”

He pulled away from kissing her and looked deep into her eyes. “Now do you recall? You promised me your soul. Now I am here to collect, Elise. I want you. All of you. Give yourself to me.”

She felt an ominous sense of fear and trepidation as she asked, “Who are you, Jude? Who are your really? Tell me.”

He chuckled, “Oh Elise, you know who I am. You’ve always known.”

She felt his hand around her throat as she blacked out.  When she awoke she was bound to his bed, as like ten years before.  He was staring at her naked body.  There was a look in his eyes.  He wanted her.  And as terrified as she was, she wanted him.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.  Her voice was trembling in fear.

“I am going to fuck you, Elise.  I’ve never stopped thinking of you.  I want you to be here.  With me.  Will you be mine forever?”

Before she took another breath, she said, “Yes”

He entered her in one movement and she felt ecstasy unlike anything before.  She had an orgasm, instantly. Followed by another and another.  He ravaged her and she welcomed him into her body with each thrust.  And as he unloaded inside her, her entire life played before her eyes.  She saw her entire existence.  From birth on.  He could see it too, after all he had been there the entire time.  Lurking in the shadows.  Waiting to take her.

And now he had her.  She was his.  Mind.  Body.

And Soul.

For eternity.

devil

 

One Lovely Blogger

OLB

I am honored that my near and dear soul sister, Lennon Carlyle, nominated me for this challenge.  She is my daily motivation with her pearls of wisdom, spoken like a true badass bitch!  Her motto:  Bitches get shit done!

Please check her out at https://fabulouswithglitches.wordpress.com/about/.  She is the BEST!

I am not accustomed to talking about myself unless it’s a tale of a decadent tryst from my past, but here goes.  These are the rules with this One Lovely Blog Award…..

* Link the person that nominated you to this entry/post.

* Share seven things about yourself.

* Nominate some of your favorite bloggers.

Seven things about myself….

  1. I have an unhealthy fear of spiral staircases.  Don’t know why…they just freak me out!
  2. I am an ENFP, Sagittarian, Water Rat, #3 Achiever (enneagram)
  3. My favorite book is Jane Eyre.  I love Mr. Rochester…any brooding Gothic character is okay in my book
  4. My favorite movies are Pulp Fiction and The Shining.  I know…strange for a chick
  5. I am the youngest of four (by 14 years) in a blended family, but I’ve been the one to care for my aging parents for years…solo.
  6. As a child, I told everyone that Johnny Cash was my real father…even though I knew he wasn’t.  I wanted him to be my dad.  How dark is that for a five year old?
  7. I worked in hospice care and found it an honor to be with a patient as they passed.  Morbid…I know.  But being able to hold their hand and give them comfort as they left this earth, is one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever encountered.  Earlier this year, I did the same for my mother.

I read a vast collection of different blogs.  Some are erotica and BDSM related, while others may lean towards motivation and positive thought!  Here are my favorites:

This is My Kinky Life.  I love this blog.  It’s well-written and sassy.  I love her honesty and humor.  She details her relationship with her sadist Daddy and I find myself wanting more every time I read.  Check her out at https://sami69az.wordpress.com/

Dave’s Corner of the Universe.  Dave speaks to me on a different level.  It’s like he’s the sci-fi, comic book whisperer in my head.  I love his take on things.  I’m not saying it’s Aliens….but it’s Aliens, folks.  Check him out and enjoy!

https://davescorneroftheuniverse.wordpress.com

Anonymous Outsider.  When I read this blog, I feel like I can hear her talking.  She writes with unabashed honesty and feeling and if you’re not reading her…you should be. And she’s a Dr. Who fan…LOVE her!  https://ananonymousoutsider.wordpress.com/about

It’s the season of the witch and Hocus Pocus does not disappoint.  She finds a way to share some of the most interesting facts, thoughts and recipes on WP.  She’s the reason I am making soul cakes for Halloween!  She magickal.

https://hocuspocus13.wordpress.com/about

Thanks to Lennon Carlyle once again for this fun challenge!  Happy reading!

The Student

Winter of 1988.

We met through a mutual friend, who said we were perfect for each other. He was almost 18 and I’d just turned 16.  His father was a dentist.  He attended a school in another county.  He was nice-looking, very tall and very smart.  His name was Joe.

Joe had all the traits of a confident, popular high school senior, except that he was painfully shy and socially awkward in certain scenarios.  He was most awkward when interacting with girls. I seemed to put him at ease.  And, I took him on as a project.

Our relationship began as a friendship.  We would attend different school functions in support of one another.  It gave us time to hang out and get to know each other in a comfortable setting.  But I found myself becoming more and more attracted to him.  I found myself thinking about him sexually.  Wanting him.

He was just so innocent.  So shy and nervous.  When we crossed the line from friendship into interest, our first kiss was a bit of a disaster.  But we kept at it and he grew more confident.  We began going on dates and instead of going to the movies as we said we were…we would end up in the backseat of his Volvo, making out to whatever was on the radio.  We never consummated the relationship.  He was very hesitant to go there.  I seemed to understand why.  I think it was performance anxiety.  He was still a virgin.

Joe knew that I was experienced.  More experienced and confident than he was.  I clearly knew what I was doing and he still fumbled about when trying to get into my jeans.  So I began to take on the role of coach, mentor, trainer to him.  You see, I knew the relationship we shared would not go anywhere.  Although we had so much in common on the outside, we were wired differently.  I knew that he couldn’t give me what I needed, even at such a young age…I knew who I was…what I craved…I understood my dark desires.  And Joe was truly too nice of a guy to handle my tar black soul.

I remember showing him how to remove my bra with one movement of his wrist.  How to caress my breasts, teasing my nipples.  I showed him how to kiss me on the neck to turn me on.  I demonstrated how to successfully get inside my jeans, with minimal effort. I explained a woman’s anatomy and showed him what felt good.  I let him experiment on me.  My body was like his laboratory and he was an eager student.

I remember the first time I took his cock in my mouth.  He came in a matter of seconds.  He was so embarrassed and apologetic.  But I explained that the only way to increase his endurance was through practice.  So we kept going there.  Eventually, he showed me what he liked.  He began to understand himself and his desires.  He learned how to communicate what he wanted from me.  How he liked it when I licked his shaft before taking him deep in my throat.

We carried on like this for weeks.  Each “date” was a tutoring session.  I taught him how to please me manually and orally. He became accustomed to giving and receiving pleasure.  He became more confident. He was morphing into the young man of my dreams.  But still, I knew it wouldn’t work long term.

One night after a long playdate in his car, he looked at me and said, “I am ready”

I was confused and said, “Okay.  I need to get home soon.  Let’s go.”

He said, “No.  I am ready to have sex…with you.”

I remember thinking how proud I was of him…that he not only knew he was ready, but he said it.  He told me.  I was impressed with his confidence.

I said, “Okay.  When do you want to do this?”  I felt like a teacher scheduling the final exam.

He said, “I will pick you up on Friday.  Be ready.”

Friday quickly arrived and I readied myself for our date.  I spent more time getting ready than I typically did for our sessions.  I wanted this to be special for him.  After school, I borrowed my mother’s car under the premise of getting hairspray at the store, but really, I bought my first pair of black thigh high stockings.  They were so opaque they were almost like tights and looked great under the black skirt I wore.  I felt confident and sexy.

He arrived a few minutes early and spend time chatting up my parents.  They liked his squeaky clean appearance and the fact that he came from a good family.  I rounded the corner from the hallway to the kitchen and our eyes met.  He was wearing a white Polo button down shirt with jeans.  He looked great.  He saw me and I could tell he was pleased by the way he looked me over.

We left my house around 7:30.  Instead of going to our favorite restaurant, he drove me to a place we’d never visited before.  It was close to his dad’s practice and had just been purchased by a developer (today there’s a car dealership there).  The road was clear, but completely deserted.  It was perfect.

Joe got out of the front seat without saying anything and walked around to open my door.  He took me by the hand and I assumed we would be moving to the backseat.  But first, he pinned me to the car and kissed me like he never had before.  I was shocked and excited.  He opened the door to the backseat and before I got in, he reached up my skirt and pulled my panties off…never uttering a word.  He then guided me into the car, shut the door and made his way to the other side.

He sat next to me and held my hand.  We rarely held hands, but it was nice. For a while, we just laughed and talked.  Then he looked at me, as he brushed my hair from my face and said, “I want you.”

Even though I was his teacher.  His mentor.  I felt a tinge of nervousness.  I was nervous about going all the way with him. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and laid it across the front seat.  He then carefully removed my sweater, and then my bra. We kissed and he pulled me on top of his lap.  He fondled my breasts and teased my slit.  I felt his hardness through his jeans and asked if I could taste him.  He opened his door and removed his pants outside, turning to face me in the car.

“Come here.  You know what I like.”

I sat on his side of the car and sucked his hard cock from the open door.  It was intensely hot.  He held my face and knelt down to kiss me.  Then he said, “Lie down and scoot back to your side of the car.  I need some room.”

I felt him mount me and for the first time, I felt him inside me.  He was rather well-endowed and filled me quite nicely.  Neither of us said anything.  We just looked into each other’s eyes and sank into our own rhythm.  He pulled my legs up and went deeper.  We never lost eye contact.  I knew when he was getting close to orgasm.  I could read it in his eyes.

He stopped and took me by the hand to pull me up.  He then got back into the car and sat down for me to straddle him.  I was still wearing my thigh highs and sat atop his lap, easing him into my sex.  He held my body tightly as I began to move up and down on his hard shaft.

He broke the silence, “How do I feel?  Do you like how I feel?”

I was eager to give him feedback, “You feel wonderful.  You fill me up and I don’t want to stop riding you.”

Hearing that turned him on as he grabbed my hips and began moving me to his rhythm.  Faster.  Harder. Deeper.  I came almost instantly and he was not far behind.  I will never forget the look in his eyes as he unloaded in me.  How intense. How amazed.  How grateful.  How sated.

Afterwards, I stayed on his lap and we held each other.  He nuzzled himself in my long hair and breathed me in.  We shared a certain closeness…an intimacy.  Something I’d yet to experience, and I later realized what a profound effect it had on me. Finally it was time for us to go.

On the way back, we stopped at a drive thru and ate.  We had been so eager that we forgot to eat.  We laughed and joked on the way home.  And as usual, he walked me to the door and gave me a goodnight kiss.  But there was something different in the way he walked…carried himself.  He was a man.  And at the time, he was my man.

Eventually our relationship fizzled and we went our separate ways by the Spring.  He graduated that year and moved cross country to attend college.  One day, I received a letter from him.

The first page of the letter talked a lot about his life in college, his new girlfriend, his family and then on the second page…written as a separate note, was a letter thanking me for taking the time to show him how to treat a woman.  He referenced everything he learned from me and how I made his first time so special.  He went on to say that if he lived to be 100, he would never forget that night in late February where he lost his virginity.  He would never forget how patient I was with him.  He said in the letter that I was more than his first time, I was his first love.  He closed the note in a way that was closure for both of us.

It will be 28 years this February and I’ve never looked him up on social media.  I have never attempted to find his number or contact him in any way.  I drove by his dad’s practice and noticed his sister had taken it over, since his father retired.  I don’t want to know Joe now.  Our time and our purpose was long ago.

I want to keep him alive in my memories, just as I remember him.

in the car

The Little Death

The French refer to orgasm as “la petite mort” or the little death.  I have always been a Francophile and obviously I am also a fan of orgasms, so it seems fitting to write of this phenomenon.

The orgasm.  The mere mention of the word in mixed company can elicit smiles, sighs, daydreams, anxiety, erections and a host of other emotions.  It is quite the buzzword (no pun intended).  Is it merely a physical response or it there something more to it? Why is it so easy for some to have an orgasm, while it is elusive for others?

I am no expert, but I can share with you my journey; my love-hate-love-infatuation-adoration relationship with knowing how to arrive at the big O.  It’s a path of discovery, trial and error, failed debacles and self-acceptance. First things first…Is orgasm merely a physical response to stimuli that builds up and then ends in release?  Or is there a mental component to “cumming”?

For me, I have to be in the right head-space to let go and have an O.  If my mind is not stimulated, my body will stage a coup and refuse me a proper ending…almost like a cliffhanger episode on a soap opera.  I have to feel connected and present in the moment.  I need to feel connected with my partner.  And most importantly, I have to feel comfortable in my own skin.  Free to say and do what comes naturally.  If I feel confined or inhibited in any way, I can see the next exit labeled, “orgasm ahead’ I just cannot get there.  And it doesn’t matter who is driving…how fast or slow…it doesn’t matter the route, it’s not happening unless I am mentally there.  It may not be this way for everyone.  But again…this is just my story of O.

From a purely physical place, I am blessed that I am one of those lucky souls who is able to have multiple orgasms.  And for long periods of time.  Eventually, the well of bliss will run dry, but I have been known to soak through towels, sheets and mattress protectors.  It used to bother me that I “released” so much during my climax, but I’ve learned to embrace it as the gift it is.

Being a submissive who has certain appetite for pain, I have experienced orgasms through powerful scenes.  I recall one instance where I was flogged for a long period of time and it caused me to gush everywhere. Afterwards, I felt like I was floating.  I was told by my fellow subbies out there, that this is “subspace” a place of euphoria that follows a particularly intense session of play.  For me, there is nothing else that compares to this feeling.  Which brings me to…

The crying orgasm.  Not trying to bring the mood down, but I have experienced orgasms that make me weep.  It’s a rare occurrence, but it is beautiful and profound when it happens.  I have encountered these white whales when there is a deep emotional bond with my partner.  It’s a place of openness and vulnerability that is hard to replicate.  It is as real as it gets for me.  To experience such pleasure, such release, such emotion and such love.

Moving on….

What do you do when you have an orgasm?  Everyone is different…trust me, I have been with my fair share and I’ve seen and heard it all.  Some are silent throughout.  Some are so loud, you worry about the neighbors calling in a SWAT team.  Others are in between.

I’ve been with the newscasters…those who broadcast each and every detail of the scenario, from start to finish.  Often it’s not even dirty talk…it’s more like:  “my dick is so hard.  this is my favorite way to fuck.  oh yeah…oh yeah. my dick is about to explode.  here it is…here it is…”  And not that these types bother me, I rather enjoy hearing what they are experiencing, but if you’re on round two or three, it can get a bit monotonous.

I have vast experience with the “call of the wild” ones.  They usually let you know how much they are enjoying you, but trade in the descriptive banter for grunts, growls and feral-sounding screams when they orgasm and unload.  I find this type hot as hell.  Primal.  Earthly. Authentic.

There are the drill instructors.  “faster…slower…deeper…ride my cock…take that cock…fuck me…slow it down…give it to me now.”  And that’s just the first 30 seconds of the encounter.  They are bossy and demanding.  And in the right head-space, I love a drill instructor…but I could never enjoy that on a daily basis.  Just me, but I think that could become confusing!  And when they come, they announce it…every part of it…much like the newscasters.

As for myself…I am a bit loud.  I don’t even realize it.  I sound a lot like my “call of the wild” counterparts.  And on a handful of occasions, I have laughed hysterically during an orgasm.  Looking back, that laughter was a close relative to crying.  I was so overcome with emotion, that I laughed my cock-filled ass off.  But that is a rare happening.

To the women who are reading this…do you experience clitoral orgasms, G-spot orgasms, anal orgasms, or D…all of the above?  I have had them all.  And the G-spot orgasm is hands-down (no pun there) my favorite.  It is unlike any other feeling of pleasure for me.  A real bonus is when I have all 3 of these at the same time.  That has only happened one time in my life.  It was so profound, I had to take a day off of work to process it.  It was mind-blowing and life-changing.  And I am always ready to relive the experience….Really ready.  It’s got me daydreaming.

You know what?  I could use that day off.

the o

Wicked Wednesdays with Tess Presents, “Carried Away in The Big Easy”

Continuing on with the Wicked Wednesday series, I am eager to share the following post with you…a decadent tale of fun and cloaked debauchery in the Big Easy, written by one of my favorite soulful Southern siren’s, Lennon Carlyle. Check out her guest post below and be sure to visit her blog at, https://fabulouswithglitches.wordpress.com

One of the Partners at the firm invited me to his Halloween party. Rarely had I been out in the last two years since I was trying to prove myself. I was the youngest attorney and had just won my eleventh case. Cause for celebration don’t you think?

The party was going to be one of a kind. He had rented out an old funeral home and was having an open bar with an incredible DJ spinning some serious beats.

Now, what will my costume be?

Witch? Devil? Maid?

I needed something unusual and something that would hide my identity. This was just in case I wanted to prowl around and get into something out of the ordinary.

That’s it! CAT WOMAN! Yes! Why not show off my curves tonight. Let’s face it, I’m blonde, blue eyed, 5’9”, 129 lbs, nice rack, hourglass is in check.
Purrrrfect!

The night had arrived and I was beyond ready. I must say I looked incredible. My full lips were shimmering with my favorite lollipop red lipstick. Although I was wearing the mask I decided to wear my hair down. Why not show off the blonde locks since every single day I wear it up in a bun. I wanted to be someone other than Poppy tonight. I wanted to be someone reckless and daring.

The leather felt righteous against my skin. This costume really showed off my hips and my tits. The thigh high platform boots made me feel superior. The limo picked me up and off I went. As I entered the party a Lurch greeted
me with a glass of champagne on a tray. Oh! How I love the bubbly. It always makes me feel kittenish. I walk over to the bar where I see Luke Skywalker AKA “The Partner” the one who is throwing this magnificent Halloween party.

I might actually need to check out Star Wars because Luke was killin’ it.  Yes, I know, where have I been to have never seen Star Wars?

Honestly, “The Partner” and I really don’t know each other well at all. He knows nothing about me personally. He makes eye contact with me and asks “Would you like another drink?”

I’m shaking in my platform boots at this point and wondered to myself…does he recognize me? In a Jersey accent I quickly reply “Of course I would love another drink.” (Note: I was in drama club in High School and had it perfected)

He orders me a Tombstone Tea. He leans into my ear and whispers “It’s refreshing but will put a spell on you.”

Is he hitting on me? Well, this could be the dare that I’m looking for this evening. Yes! Winning!

I’ve never noticed how green his eyes are. He has this extremely deep voice and even with these kick ass boots I’m wearing he’s still towering me. He introduces himself and I stretch out my hand introducing myself as Finn, a girl that came with a date that I can’t find and how I’m really not “feeling it” and how I’m trying to ditch this guy. He assures me that he can help with that. Hmmm…Oh really?

After three tombstone teas and four glasses of champagne I find myself arm and arm with “The Partner” walking down Frenchmen Street passing the bars and giggling at whatever he’s saying in my ear.

He stops abruptly and says “I’m going to take you to one of my favorite haunts.” We take a turn down a dark alley and just a few feet away I see a wrought iron archway. There’s a sign but it’s dark and my vision is blurry at this point. I’m feeling fantastical and will go wherever “The Partner” wants to take me.

As we enter the gate he suddenly scoops me up like a child and carries me. “I wouldn’t want you to stumble and hurt yourself in those boots Finn.” This cobblestone is broken in some spots.” I could get used to this…I put my arms around his neck and within just a few steps I realize we’re in a cemetery. The full moon is shining on the graves as if covered in glitter. This is nightmarish but also enchanting.

He carries me up a couple of steps and gently puts me down while he opens this shrill sounding door. He grabs my hand and pulls me into this tiny little dark room. He suddenly grabs the back of my hair and pulls my head back and begins kissing my neck. I immediately get chills up my spine. He then lifts me up onto his waist and I wrap my legs around him as he walks me over to something behind me and props me up on it. His kisses are hard and wet.

He’s drinking me in. He tastes like caramel and whisky. His tongue is delicious and wanting.

My mind says Stop – Don’t do this. I kept thinking, this is “The Partner” at my firm and I really shouldn’t be making out with him. Truth was, I wanted him badly. His lips were full like mine. He bit my bottom lip and the blood tasted so sweet. God, this man was fucking hot.

He picks me up off of whatever I was propped up on and flips me around facing the wall and I put my hands on something to hold myself up and realize it’s a casket. What the fuck? Oh my god, this is fucking incredible. I’m about to fuck “The Partner” in a crypt.  As he unzips my cat suit and rips it down to my knees the anticipation of him touching me is beyond intoxicating. I’m wearing no panties or bra. All access approved!

He put his arm around my waist to hold me in place and then began teasing my nipple with his fingers. He grabs my face and turns it towards his and starts kissing me again. His taste is addicting. Soon his tongue is licking my ear and he whispers “How bad do you want me to fuck you Finn?” Words couldn’t escape my mouth. I just whimpered under his grip. He took his knee and pushed my legs apart and brought his hand down to my clit. His fingers were melting.  My knees were weak and I held back on screaming his name.

He suddenly stopped and I heard his zipper come down and instantly he gained entry into my tight little passage. As he entered me he let out a rough low “Fuck.” He stood there not moving with that superb cock inside of me taunting me by standing still. I wanted him to fuck me until I collapsed but instead he was taking it all in, literally.

He whispered in that deep voice, “Are you ready Finn?” I was ready but also edgy, could I handle him? I loved the feeling of fullness in my narrow tunnel.

He grabbed my hips tight, pulled me backwards and then pushed my back to where my head was between my legs. I could see his knees at this point due to the moon glaring through the stained glass. I loved the way he was taking control over me, but I wanted more.

He knew how to take me and he knew how to make me beg. I finally had all I could take and I started grinding into him. He took me by surprise with this strength and fucked me hard and fast and with ill intention. Right when I was about to cum he pulled his cock out and pulled me up and turned me to face him. My mask was still on and he reached to take it off and I quickly got to my knees and licked and sucked his glorious shaft. He was growling and then pulled me up and looked me in the eyes and said “Just let me fuck you.” The way he said it sounded like he couldn’t live without it.

He had to have it.

He picked me up and I put my legs around him and he did exactly that. He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. Every time he would thrust I would bounce breathless. There was a connection between us. We were driven and consumed with each other. When I came with him it was the feeling of being upside down in a roller coaster. It was absolutely thrilling.

As he hailed a cab for me he hands me his card and asks “Can I see you again Finn?” As I slide into the cab and look up at him I wink and whisper “Maybe” and as the cab pulls away I sigh with my kittenish grin.

Monday Morning arrives and I’m going over my notes for my case. I hear a knock on my office door, “Come in”. A delivery guy has me sign for a long white box with a beautiful black bow. The card reads “Finn AKA Poppy, Please enjoy these beautiful red poppies. I have to see you again. Meet me in the lobby downstairs at 8 pm. Since you’ve never seen Star Wars I thought it was about time. Your Jersey accent was outstanding but I knew it was you all along.”

He sent me poppies? Really? No one has ever done that before. How did he know? Fuck.

catwoman

The Good Girl’s Guide to Talking Dirty

whisper

 

Come on ladies, let’s dish about taking dirty….

In my younger days I found it challenging to talk dirty.  Although I was capable of doing some really naughty things, (you’ve seen this blog…I have been very naughty) explicit dialogue still made me blush.

Why is that?

I mean, I could be in the middle of fucking someone who had me pinned to the wall of his girlfriend’s dorm room, but uttering the words, “fuck me harder” escaped me.  I couldn’t say “bad things” like that.  The utterance of the word cock, dick or god-forbid, pussy, made me shudder with shame.  It’s almost as if I was a slutty prude.  I could screw with the best of them, but couldn’t talk the talk.  It was a real obstacle for me.

I was a proper and polite Southern woman,who just couldn’t narrate the porn scenes she was living.

It took a real Southern gentleman to help me bring out my inner voice.  And finally…finally…I was able to say it all. He cussed like a sailor, but always addressed me as “ma’am” and his charm helped to inspire me to learn the language.

So, what do you do if you don’t know how to talk dirty?

How do you begin?

For me, it was easiest to narrate the situation.  If he had me bent over the bed and was plowing me from behind, I may say something like…”You feel so good fucking me like this.”

As I began to learn my own slutty language, I would expound on it by saying, “You feel so fucking good.  I love how you fuck me from behind.”  (A bit more explicit and passionate.)

As I morphed into a dirty-talking whore, I would say something like, “Your cock feels so fucking good.  Fuck my wet pussy.  That’s your pussy, fill it up lover. Please don’t stop fucking me….”  (Porn star banter)

So to recap, in the beginning…just narrate the scene.  Make it your own.  Be natural.  Your first attempt may be something like, “I love how you take what’s yours…”  That’s still very compelling and sexy.  Remember, raunchy language is optional.  The most important thing is to be yourself.  But do try to be a more vocal, less proper version of yourself.

As you become comfortable with narrating…venture into requests/commands.  This is where the “fuck me harder, daddy” or “give me all that hard cock” type of phrasing comes in.  This type of dialogue is usually exchanged in the heat of passion…it may be right before an orgasm.  Let this come naturally to you.  Think of what you want…what you need to get you ‘there” and say it loud and proud.

Express yourself.  Tell your lover what feels good.  Tell them what you want.  Don’t mince words.  This is your chance.

One of my favorite ways to talk dirty is to surprise him by whispering little naughties in my lover’s ear…when we are in public.  I love to lean over to kiss him and then whisper something like, “my panties are soaked thinking about how badly I want to ride you tonight”  or my personal favorite, ” I wish I could drop to my knees right here.  I have a taste for your cock in my warm mouth.”  This type of verbiage will send him into oblivion.  I am guaranteed a fun night when I drop these hints.

Like most things, it’s all about the attitude.  Feeling confident allows you to find your voice.

Another way to introduce dirty dialogue is to engage in role play.  I adore role play.  There is something about going into “character” and channeling that personality that makes it very exciting.  I really enjoy playing a defiant school girl, who is a bit lippy to her teacher.  My banter is filthy in this scenario and believe me, I get more than detention.

Why not try it out?  Say something completely “un-lady-like” in his ear after dinner.  Or when he has your legs on his shoulders, describe how wet you are, or how hard he feels.  Tell him when you are about to cum.  Verbalize it.  Announce it.  Claim it.

Give him some lip service and see how he responds.  It’s likely you’ll be up late…and it’s even more likely you won’t be spending your time reading blogs.  I am sure he will have other plans for you.

sexy couple

 

Into the Woods (Wicked Wednesday Series)

Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

Her senses were attuned to everything around her.  The air smelled of pine mixed with the scent of rain.  She could hear faint raindrops as they hit the forest floor.  It was a soft, gentle rain.  In different circumstances she would have found this sound soothing.  But not tonight.  There was a bit of a chill in the air around her.  It was the first cool autumn night of the season.   Her hair was damp from the mist as it clung to her face.  The dusk quickly approached, she strained to see what was around her.

She was in the middle of the woods.  Alone.  Her wrists bound with rope, between two small trees.

The evening had begun innocently enough.  She and her boyfriend were visiting some friends, Justin and Marley, at their lake house for the weekend.  They arrived early Saturday afternoon and spent most of the day cooking, drinking cocktails and playing board games.  The drink she enjoyed the most was a spiked apple cider, served warm.  It tasted so good, she had not realized how potent it was.  She found herself buzzed when she recommended they play a game of truth or dare.  Everyone was eager for some fun.  Over a warm fire they shared some of their deepest, darkest “truths” but no one had accepted a dare.  Feeling a bit uninhibited from the cider, she wanted to stir things up.  On her next turn, she chose the dare.  Her boyfriend Jamie instructed her to finish her drink and walk outside towards the woods.

Little did she know the dare would land her in the middle of the woods, helpless, tied and frightened by what would come next.

You see, that’s what happens when you play truth and dare with the wrong people.

As she stood there, she couldn’t remember just how she got into the position she was in.  She recalled drinking a lot…she remembered walking along the path in the woods.  She remembered Jamie lagging behind her.  But she had no recollection of being tied to the trees.  It was as if she passed out or something.

Trying to piece it all together, she was startled to hear footsteps behind her.  She tried to turn her head to see who was there, but the darkness around her made it impossible to discern.  She tried to move her wrists, but the rope was secure and didn’t budge.

Her voice was shaky as she tried to sound confident, “Who’s there?  Jamie, is that you? This isn’t funny, you know!”

There was no response.  The footsteps stopped and she could feel someone standing close to her.  She desperately tried to see who was there.  She could feel them watching her.

Suddenly she felt someone touch her face.  “Shhh…don’t worry.  You are fine.  We are just having some fun, remember?”

She recognized the voice as Marley, Justin’s girlfriend.  What was she doing out there?  What was going on?

Marley stood behind her and pulled her hair back from her face.  She whispered in her ear.  “You’re really going to enjoy this.”  And she walked away.

Amanda was terrified.  She called to her, “Marley, wait!  What is happening?  Please untie me.”

In all the commotion, she didn’t hear Jamie walk up.  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.  “You look so sexy like this.”  He was holding a lantern and the flame provided enough light for their eyes to meet.

“What is going on, Jamie?  I don’t like this.  Untie me!” she demanded.

Jamie smiled and said, “I wish I could, but the dare is not over.”  He began to unbutton her shirt slowly as she protested, “What are you doing?  Not here!  Someone could see me.”

“Why are you worried, it’s just us out here.  Relax.  It’s dark.”

“I don’t like this.  Untie me, please.  I just want to go back to the lake house.” she begged.

“Not yet.” his tone was dark and ominous.  Just then, she felt his hands on her breasts, moving down between her legs.  With one hand on her sex he held her by the chin and said, “I am going to fuck you here, in the woods.  And here’s the dare…they are going to watch us.”

As scared and panicked as she was, she was immensely turned on at the thought.  She looked him deep in his eyes and said, “Then get on with it…if you dare.”

He loosened the rope from the trees and told her to put her arms around him.  He then pinned her to the large oak tree as he rammed himself into her wetness.  She let out a scream and threw her head back against the tree as he pushed himself further into her.  The bark scratched her back through her open shirt, but she didn’t care.  She could feel the others watch them by the light of the lanterns around.  Now there were three couples there.  A few of them completely nude.  Watching him take her on that tree.

He let out a growl that sounded like a wild animal as he unloaded inside her.  She could see her warm breath in the cool mist as she came with him.  It was so hot.  So primal.  So taboo.  They both fell to the ground and found themselves covered in the wet leaves and cold earth.

A hand reached out to her to help her up to her feet.  It was Justin.  Half naked and ravaged, she shyly stood up and as their eyes met, she found herself wanting him.  Wanting him to take her as Jamie did.  Wanting Jamie and Marley to watch them.

It was as if he could read her thoughts as he laid his robe on the ground and pushed her to her knees, filling her mouth with his large, hard cock.  She sucked him furiously, on fire with lust.  He joined her on the ground as Marley greeted her with a wet kiss. Marley began to feel her breasts as Justin moved behind her, pushing himself into her slick cunt.  Amanda began to scream in ecstasy as another couple approached them, wanting to watch more closely.

It was a wicked scene.  Justin fucking her from behind while she and Marley explored each other.  Both of them hungry to taste of the other.  Amanda writhed with pleasure as they continued to have their way with her, in front of Jamie and the others.  She heard Justin say to Marley, “Now.  Do it now.”  Marley was sucking her nipples and Amanda felt her soft lips move up to her neck.  It was heavenly, and then…the pain.  Excruciating, wonderful pain.

She wailed as Marley’s teeth penetrated her neck.

The light from the window awoke her.  She found herself in their guest room snuggled in the bed, under a white down comforter.  She heard someone walk in.  It was Jamie.  He was fresh out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.  He kissed her on the forehead and said, “It’s about time you woke up!  Bet you are hung-over after all the drinks.  How are you feeling, you lush?” He snickered as he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

She was dazed.  Was it all a dream?  It felt so real.  She rubbed her neck to feel for the bite.  But there was nothing. She looked in the mirror and there was nothing.  She looked at her wrists and there were no marks from the rope.  Her body didn’t feel sore.  Her nails weren’t dirty.  Her body was clean and she was wearing the pink cotton gown she’d packed for the weekend.  She looked for her clothes from the night before.  They were in a heap on the floor by her suitcase.  Nothing was unusual.  They weren’t dirty or stained from being in the woods.

She thought to herself, “I guess it was a dream.”

She readied herself for a shower, pulling her hair back to put it in a ponytail, when she felt a small twig tangled in her mane….

Just then, outside her bedroom door she heard Marley say to Justin, “Hey baby, breakfast was good, but I’m still hungry.”  They both laughed a sinister laugh, as they continued down the hall towards the deck.

darkness

Wicked Wednesday with Tess presents, “Wrong Way In”

Good evening readers!  Thank you for joining me as we begin the Wicked Wednesdays with Tess series.

This is a deliciously sinful yarn spun by the intriguing erotica writer, Eon.  I hope you enjoy it as much I do.

Make sure you check out his bloghttp://www.eonserotica.wordpress.com

Wrong Way In

Jessica smiled at my offer.

“Really?  You would do that?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She stood on her tip-toes to kiss my cheek.  Her small warm hand squeezed my bicep.  Feeling my muscles?  Or just expressing gratitude?  God, I could never tell with her.  Everything she did seemed to mean two things.
“You’re such a sweetheart.”
You see what I mean.  Friend zone?  Or hint?
She began to gather her things.  I held up her jacket.  When she looked up to find it waiting for her to step into, she beamed at me.
“You really are.  Thank you again, Jeff.  I can’t handle him when he gets like this.  Remember, once you get him sobered up, he’s supposed to meet me at the haunted house at midnight.  His costume is in the trunk.  You’ll be able to find it?”
“Sure.”
She passed me the keys to his car, then turned to go.  Pausing, she glanced back over her shoulder.  Our eyes met over the keys still held up in my palm, like an offering.  She shook her head, then stepped in quickly and gave me a quick peck on the lips.
“Get a move on, you big dummy.”
Then she was gone.
My free hand touched my lips where hers had pressed so briefly.  I looked over at Max, Jessica’s fiancee.  Like her, a lifelong friend.  Unlike her, who had had only a single glass of white wine, he was half comatose with drink, mostly rum, mumbling to himself as he slowly slipped lower in the booth where he sat.  I heaved a sigh.  Struggling this brawny bastard into his car was going to be a helluva chore.  It was a good thing we were of a size.  Always had been.  I can remember people getting us mixed up as kids.  We’d always thought it was hilarious, and used it to our advantage when we could.
Now, that size was a definite advantage.  I left a generous amount of money on the table.  He’d been increasingly boorish as his drunkeness progressed, and I felt bad for the waitress.  Then I heaved him into a fireman’s carry and made my way out to the parking lot.  Bastard better not puke on my good suit.
A lot was going through my head, and not all of it was pleasant.  Lifelong friends look out for each other, sure.  But lately it was feeling very one sided.  I was worried about Max’s drinking.  I was even more worried for Jessica’s safety.  I’d known Max a long time, and he was an agressive drunk until he reached the blackout stage.  He’d done some things when we were in our teens, and she was such a tiny little thing.  Five foot tall in heels, if that, hardly more than 110 pounds.  I pictured lifting her up, her lithe little legs wrapped around my waist…
No, stop that.  Get this drunken fucker home and figure out what to do about the situation.  Odds were he wouldn’t be even halfway funcitonal by the time midnight rolled around.  Not the way he’d been slamming it back.  Sure, he was big, but I knew him.  He was teetering on the edge of blackout, and if that happened, there’d be no waking him for twelve hours.
Mumble, mumble.  Twitch and drool.  Cuss at me for driving too fast, making him feel sick.  Fuck you, Max.  You’re sick?  I’m fucking sick, too.  Of all of it.
Drag the guy out of the car, chivvy him up the stairs, half pushing, half dragging.  Get him inside.  He flops on the couch.  Well, at least he’s moving.  Maybe I can salvage the night after all.  I think about Jessica, that smile, that sudden unexpected kiss.  Yeah, okay.  I can do this.  For her, I can do this.
Put the coffee on.  Use the washroom.  Dig through Max’s CDs, find some good heavy metal, get the stereo cranked up.  Back into the living room.
“What the fuck, Max!  No, man, you’re done.”
He’s found the energy to get up and grab the whiskey from the liquor cabinet.  He hasn’t even bothered with a glass.  I move to take the bottle and he gives me a shove.  Roars at me, guttural, a beast.  I can see in his eyes that this won’t go the easy way.
So I raise my hands, placating, back away a few steps.
“Okay, okay.  You’ve made your point.  Fuck.”
He drops back onto the couch and takes a big swig.  I cringe.  Sit on the armchair opposite and watch him drink, listening to the savage scream of Sylosis’ vocalist echo demonically through the room… where the wolves come to die… before that brutally heavy guitar groove segues into the next track, Victims and Pawns.
So which am I?  Victim?  Pawn?  Which is he?  I’ve never seen him hit the bottle so hard.  It’s frightening to watch.  And which is she?  I know I should stop him.  For him, for her.  But what about me?  I don’t want to get into a scrap with a fucking gorilla who’s already numb to pain and reason.  And I’m beginning to think there are possibilities here, a way to take a little back for all I’ve given this asshole lately.
So I let him drink until he passes out.  Eventually.  It takes more than I expected.  But now he’s done, and it’s 23:00.
I go down to the car, grab the costume.
Ha.  Perfect.  Frankenstein.  A mask to cover the upper half of my face and everything.  I go back into the house to try it on.  Yeah, it’ll do.  We’re of a size.  I steal his boots and put them on.  Do my hands and neck and lower face up corpsey grey-green.  Only my eyes give me away, staring out of the Frankenstein mask, green as grass.  Max has brown eyes.  But it will be dark where I’m going, or dimly lit.
I arrive early at the haunted house, park Max’s car a ways down the street.  Walking through the dark, I’m greeted by goblins, ghosts, and witches as they flit out of the late night fog and make their way towards the abandoned mansion at the end of the street.
The house party held here every year is always nuts.  Last year a group purchased the estate, fixed it up, and began making the yearly bash an official Halloween event, selling tickets and everything.  Max’s ticket had been with his costume, and was now in my pocket.  Tradition dictated that everyone arrived alone, without telling anyone in advance what their costume would be.  I knew my size would give me away, and likewise, Jessica’s slight stature would let me spot her easily.  But I had no way of knowing who anyone else was.  That was sort of the point.  This was a party where anything goes.  Let the demons out into the night, in true Bacchanalian style.  In the morning, when the sun came up, the costumes would come off and we would all be divested of sin along with the getups.  Reborn.
I spotted Jessica right away, but didn’t approach.  Better to play up the Max role a bit; I went straight for the punch.  It looked like eyeballs floating in something greenish brown.  What the fuck are those?  Peeled grapes? I popped one into my mouth.  Yup.  Grapes.  I down a full glass of the punch and then ladle out another.
Whew!  Strong stuff.  I wander off to check out the mansion.  I figure she’s had plenty of time to spot me by now, and she’ll follow along if she’s interested.  I have a sneaking suspicion she’s not too impressed with Max, and so she might avoid me for the night, but I can always find her later.
The place is huge, of course, and every room has been done up in a different theme.  Dracula’s castle is already in full swing, the lord of vampires himself presiding over a bevy of sultry vamps in various states of dishevelment.  I wonder briefly if he needs to suck blood in order to get it up. Whatever.  The two vampires hungrily sharing his meat don’t seem inclined to complain how it got hard.  Those teeth, though!  Laughing, I move on.
There’s a dancehall, with a fog machine, eerie lights, and all the spooky Halloween favorites.  Gotta be fifty or sixty monsters gyrating out there.  The total abandon is a thing to see.  Something about a costume and a mask that gives a person complete license to indulge.  I can feel it working on me, too, eyeing up the scantily clad witches, the linen wrapped girl with the dancer’s body, a yummy mummy if I ever saw one.  I’m being checked out, too.  My size alone gets me a lot of attention, but there’s a reason people are here, and one monster is as good as another if you haven’t found a partner (or two or three) by the time the hour gets late.
Upstairs the game room is done up like a dungeon.  Some werewolves are shooting pool with a ghost.  A couple of zombies are playing strip poker and laughing at all the rotten flesh revealed.  I finish my second drink and find a third.  A blonde witch who is far too beautiful to play the role pulls me into a closet for a brief fumble at my zipper, but she can’t fit my cock in her mouth, and declines to try it elsewhere.  As we emerge the look on her face is one of stunned awe, and I enjoy the looks from the others in the room as I step out of the closet, slowly putting my length back into my trousers.  The werewolves howl and a mad scientist runs by, cackling madly, his lab assistant thrashing at him with a whip.
Jessica finds me one of the bedrooms.  It looks like the chamber of a voodoo priestess, perhaps, or a caveman shaman, all animal skins and dangling bones.  A nun is on the bed, being ravished by Jesus.
“Max.”
I turn at the sound of her voice.  I can only stare.
Black stiletto heels, buckled and strapped to the top of her shapely calves.  Fishnets, a tantalizing glimpse of white skin.  Clining black miniskirt, shockingly pink panties peaking out from under the scandalously high hemline.  Black corset, leather and lace, small firm breasts pushed up invitingly.  Black gloves past her elbows.  Slutty black and red makeup, incredibly luscious lips pouting below gigantic innocent little girl eyes.  Fuck me, she’s so tiny and perfect. I can’t breathe.  I’ve never wanted her so badly as I do now.  And right here, right now, I could have her, and she would forgive me for taking advantage of the situation, wearing the mask, pretending to be Max.  In the morning, she will understand.  I had to have her.
She approaches.  Her wings are large and black, feathered thickly.  They move when she does, an impressive illusion.  I notice her devil’s tail swishing behind her as she walks, hips swaying seductively.
“Max, are you avoiding me?”
I don’t answer.  I toss back my third drink, feeling the buzz creeping through my veins.
Our eyes lock.  The last of my inhibitions fall away.  Lifting her easily, I carry her into the next room, another bedroom, this one empty and dark.  Placing her gently on the bed, I push her onto her back and lean in, framing her with my arms.  She raises her face to my kiss and I taste her for the first time.  Her tongue meets mine.  She is wanton, hungry.  She lifts her hips and rubs her crotch against my stomach.  Sensation surges through me.  My erection suddenly strains at my slacks.  My mind stops spinning and I am completely, blissfully immersed in the sweet strain of the moment.
My hands are massive, engulfing hers.  I press my palm against her pubic mound and she grinds against it.  I feel her heat, her dampness, soaking through her pretty pink panties.  She gasps as I curl my thick fingers and deftly slide first one, then another, around the edge of the fabric.  She is slick and tight.  My fingers force their way inside, and she moans.
“No, no, don’t make me wait, I don’t want fingers, I want you.”
She is a fallen angel in truth, now, as she frees the serpent and succumbs to sinful urges.  Holding her panties aside, she guides me to the gates.
“Here,” she says, “here is where I fell from,” and I’m sliding inside her, her muscles stretching to accomodate my girth, her teeth gripping her lower lip as she struggles not to cry out in pain, and then the slippery fluids are working, and I’m halfway inside her, and then mostly inside, and then I’ve forced the whole length of my cock into the depths of her straining pussy and she’s gasping, “Yes, yes Max, oh God, I love you…”
And I can’t do it.  I’m not Max.  I can’t rape this woman.  That’s what’s happening here.  I’m raping my friend’s fiancee.  I’m raping my own best friend.
Horrified, I leap away.  I choke on a sob and stumble, sit heavily on the floor.  I shudder and a sound escapes me, a high keening.  I am a monster, in truth.  My heavy cock falls limp between my legs.
“Oh, God, Jess, what have I done?”
She’s in my lap, no hesitation, her small warm hands on my face, her mouth on mine.
“What?  What is it?”
“I’m… I’m not…”
“Shh…” she presses close.  “Shh… I know…”
I freeze.  I raise my eyes to hers.  But the look she is giving me isn’t meant for me.  It’s meant for Max.  She can’t see the color of my eyes in the dim light from the next room.  Did she see it when our eyes met back there?  I thought she had.  I thought maybe…
But I’m a fool.  A monster.  I can’t do this.
“I know,” she whispers.  “It’s okay.  Take your time.  I understand…”  She is kissing me again, reassuring.  What does she think is happening here?  Has her drunken lout of a fiancee fallen victim to erectile dysfunction?  Has this happened to them before?  Does she believe patience and compassion will fix this?
Slowly, heavily, like in a dream, my hand rises.  The mask comes away.
I feel her breasts press against my chest with the sharp intake of her breath.  For some reason I’m compelled to tighten my arm about her waist.  Holding her close.  No escape.  Confront it.  See the truth.
Look the monster in the eyes.
“Jeff?”
Her voice is barely there, a meek breath, an incredulous whisper.
I take my arms from around her waist.  Shaking, she rises, steps back from me.
I’m not prepared for the viciousness of her sudden stomp.  Fire shoots up through my guts.  I double over in agony, seeing stars, nausea rising in a sparkling wave.  I barely register the sound of her footsteps as she flees.  Gurgling, I curl around my self-disgust and weep silently.
Jesus and the nun look in on me.  They watch for a moment.  Then, without a word, they turn their backs.
The door snicks shut, cutting off all light.
fallen angel

Tales From Your Dark Side (Halloween Challenge)

seance

Who has a dark side?

Let me rephrase the question….

Who has a dark side they would like to share?  

Let’s have some fun this October as we draw closer to Halloween.  Each Wednesday…let’s call it Wicked Wednesdays, I will post writings from your darkest corners…the shadowy places, hidden from sight.  Those dark and tawdry fantasies, musings, poems and stories that dwell below the murky waters of your deepest desires.

I dare you.

Those of you bold enough to answer this dare should message me at: tawdrytalesoftess@gmail.com

Please include the title of your piece, a picture you would like to include if desired, the name of your blog (a link would be great) and any other information you feel would be pertinent for the post.  I will post these on Wicked Wednesday’s with Tess, for all to read and enjoy.

There are four Wednesdays in this month.  Let’s tantalize each other.  Let’s shock each other.

Let’s let our demons come out to play together.

demons

Don’t be shy, love.  Show me yours…I will show you mine.  

 

 

Afraid of the Dark?

Just the other day, I was chatting with a friend who admitted that she enjoys being spanked by her husband during sex.  She was giggling and embarrassed to share this “deep and dark secret” with anyone.  We are casual friends and she has no idea who I am under my good girl veneer, so I was amused by her reticence in telling me.  I thought to myself…if she only knew.  Then I began to think about how most of us hide our secret selves.  Even from our partners.

Reflecting on my friend’s revelation, I realized that what some may consider mere play..others may find kinky.  What some find kinky, others may find offensive, or even immoral.  So we keep these thoughts hidden.  Hidden from society.  Hidden from our friends and family.  And sometimes, hidden from our lovers.  But why wouldn’t we trust them with our fantasies?  Do we feel we will be judged?  Do we worry they will see us differently?  And then I took a long insightful look at myself.

After all…I’ve pretty much done my fair share of everything.  What’s left to do in my treasure-trove of dark escapades?  What desires haven’t I fulfilled?

Believe me, I have a few things on my murky bucket list.  I just need to find the voice to share these decadent desires of mine …with my One.

I have always had a rape fantasy, not for the brutality, but more for the vulnerability.  And I have acted on it a few times, but it usually morphed into more of a BDSM scene and not the spontaneous “attack” I had envisioned.  I want the suspense.  I don’t want to know when it’s going to happen, or how it’s going to happen.  I crave the fear.

This is what I’d love to experience.  Here is a little scene from one of those opaque corners of my twisted mind.

I arrived home later than usual.  The kids were staying with friends and I assumed he and I would order takeout for dinner.  The house was pitch-black and quiet.  His car was not in the driveway, as he was also working late.  I was excited to know I had a few minutes of solitude before our evening began. I walked towards the bathroom and began to run a bath.

Making my way into the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of Argentine Malbec and returned to the bathroom to check the water.  It was hot and inviting.  I took a large swallow of wine and began taking off my jewelry.  I saw something in the mirror behind me.  A shadowy figure approaching me.  My heart raced and I let out a gasp, but quickly realized it was him.
 
Funny thing…I didn’t hear him drive up.
 
I continued with my routine, taking off my jewelry, my blazer, my peep-toe pumps.  I was just unbuttoning my white silk blouse when I said, “Hey sweetie.  I’m going to take a bath.  Let me know what you want to order for dinner.”
 
He was silent.  I could feel him staring at me from behind.  He wasn’t wearing his shirt and tie from work.  He was wearing all black…black t-shirt, black pants. I realized that he must have arrived home before me and changed his clothes.  That’s strange…where did he park his car?  
 
I turned around to face him.  “Are you okay?  When did you get home?”
 
He suddenly put his hand over my mouth and forcefully walked me into our bedroom.
 
His whispered in my ear, “You’re asking for it, undressing in front of me like that.  I am going to fuck you so hard I will make you beg me to stop.”
 
I had never heard that tone in his voice.  I didn’t know where this was coming from…truly I was a bit scared.  He pushed me onto the bed face down. He hiked up my black skirt and spread my legs with his knee.  He reached up my thighs and yanked off my dainty pink lace panties.  Ripping them on one side.
“Be still” he growled as he plunged three fingers into my wet hole. He finger fucked me with one hand as he pulled his pants down with the other.  Before I knew it he was deep in my sex, fucking me from behind as he pinned my body to the bed.
 
“You’re so fucking wet.  You like this, don’t you?”  He penetrated me so deeply, I could feel a tinge of pain every time he thrust himself inside. He filled me…every inch of me.   I was writhing in pleasure, close to an orgasm. Excited by how it was all happening.
 
Then he backed away, pulled me to my feet  to face him and pushed me down on my knees and rammed himself down my throat.  I could taste my juices on his glistening cock as he pushed my head down on his shaft, edging as far down my throat as I could take.  I couldn’t even gag.  I couldn’t breathe.  He knows I love breath play and he held my head on his cock until my eyes began to water.  He would release and give me a respite to catch my breath before he did it again.  And again.  He continued until my face was tear-stained black from my mascara.  He pulled me up by my hair and told me to get on the bed on my back.
 
He positioned me with my head slightly off of the bed as he stood over me and slowly eased his cock down my throat again.
 
“I want to see how far you can take this” he sneered.  He slowly fucked my mouth and throat as he rubbed my clit relentlessly.  I was so out of control.  So vulnerable and exposed.   There was nothing I could do, but lay there and take it.   I could barely breathe…I was barely able get enough air in my throat with his large cock taking up all the space.  I moaned as I came repeatedly, squirting and gushing everywhere.
 
“Get on all fours, ass up” he quipped.  I quickly complied and he spread me as wide as my legs could go.  My legs were shaky from being stretched so far.  It made me feel helpless and immobile.  He was behind me, grabbing my ass he plowed himself inside my ravaged cunt.  Deeper and deeper.  My body shuddering with each movement.  I couldn’t tell where one orgasm stopped and the other began.  I just kept having them, screaming in ecstasy as he kept fucking me.
Then he stopped.  To get my attention, he pulled my head back by my long dark mane.  Then I felt him enter my ass.  His cock was so slick from my wetness that he slid in with one movement. He let out a deep, baritone snarl as he fucked my tight hole.  I knew he was close to the edge.  He was so hard.  He slowed his pace with deeper, purposeful thrusts. Just before he came, he let out a primal growl that bellowed off the walls.
 
Afterwards we were both silent.  He moved up to the head of the bed and pulled me into his chest.  He tilted my chin to face him as he softly kissed my lips.
 
“How was that for you?  Did I fulfill your rape fantasy?”
 
My body was still trembling from the overall experience…from the intense orgasms he gave me.  I managed to find my words as I whimpered, “Yes, Sir.  You did.”
 
He scooped me up his arms and stroked my hair as we drifted off to sleep.
taken