erotica

Dick, The Finale

I think it was Julia Child who said, “With enough butter anything is good.”

You know, she was right about that. Although, I will admit that Dick was good without the butter, but the butter made it better. Somehow it made the steamy hot scene, even sexier.

Thankfully we moved from in front of the (hot) stove to the kitchen table. I can still hear the sound of the table scraping on the tile floor from the friction of his rhythmic pace. I can still remember the way he gripped my hips. The way he ravaged me. And I also remember that I loved every second of it.

As he came closer to the edge, he reached around and began torturing my clit with his fingers. I simply could not take all of that stimulation at once and had a sobbing, screaming orgasm, right there, face down on his kitchen table. He came soon after I did, collapsing beside me on the table.

We just looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. Neither of us said anything. My face was tear-stained from the intensity of what had just happened.  He looked at me with such concern, wiping my eyes with his thumb. And without a word, Dick took me by the hand and led me to another part of the house to the guest bathroom. I’d not noticed it before, but this bathroom had a huge claw-foot tub.

He turned on the water and walked out of the bathroom for me to have a bath. I gingerly got into the tub and relaxed in the warm water. I was spent. Completely spent. It was so soothing. The lights were dim, as it was only illuminated by the light from the hallway.  I was exhausted and relaxed. Just as I was about to doze off, he walked in with a plate of eggs and some juice.

He sat on the floor next to the tub and we shared a plate of cold eggs and dry toast. Again, neither of us saying anything. When we were finished, he took the plate back to the kitchen and returned with a towel for me.  I dried off and practically stumbled to his bed. He showered and joined me soon after.

We slept until noon.

I remember the soreness I felt that day. Every muscle in my body ached. It was a good sore. I liked that feeling. Dick woke up, turned on the coffee pot and dressed for his daily run. Every day, he ran at least three miles. It was his drug. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat outside while I waited for him.

When he returned home, I asked him, “So what’s on the agenda today?”

He grinned a devilish grin, and I thought, oh shit…I cannot handle any more sex right now. My legs felt like Jello and I knew I’d probably pass out at the first orgasm.

He said, “Hmmm, Tess.  I don’t know. Let’s grab a late lunch and maybe see a movie or something?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. My poor body needed a respite from the sex marathon we’d had. I said, “Lunch and a movie? That sounds great!”

He smiled and said, “Good! But on the way home, I need to pick up some things at the store.”

“I am all out of butter.”

On a side note, I later realized that Dick’s ingenuity with butter was not likely his original idea. About seven years ago, I watched the movie, The Last Tango in Paris, for the first time. I have a sneaky suspicion, Dick took that taboo tidbit from the infamous butter scene.

Such a bad boy, that Dick.  

bathtub-1

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (part 3)

He was standing in front of me and the boyish grin had faded. I recognized the look in his eyes. He was a hedonistic beast enslaved with lust, determined to have his way with me.  He picked me up by my ankles and pulled me over to the edge of the bed.

“Hold your hips up off of the bed, until I tell you to stop.” he ordered. “Up. Up. I want them suspended up. Good. Just like that”

I balanced my hips in the air, slightly off of the bed as he instructed. He then spread my legs open and dropped to his knees pulling my hips into his face. His tongue was experienced and unforgiving as he consumed me. I was at his mercy and he knew it. He held me at an angle where my only choice was to take what he dished out. As much as I wanted to squirm, there was nowhere to run. He had me. In a matter of minutes, oceans of orgasms washed over me. There was no time to recover. He pushed my legs back to my shoulders and pushed himself inside me. All of his ample cock filled me at once. He hooked his arms under mine and held the tops of my feet to my shoulders as he proceeded to savagely fuck the hell out of me.  Just as I was about to reach my edge, he stopped.

He flipped me over to my stomach and took me from behind. I’ve always enjoyed it like that, but he picked up my leg and held my foot on his shoulder. He drove himself in deeper in that position and my legs began to shudder from my impending orgasm.

“You like that don’t you, Tess? I bet you don’t get done like this when that pager beeps, do you?”

I couldn’t even muster a word. I was spilling over the edge as was he. We collapsed from the frenzied fuckfest we’d just had. I looked over at him and the beast was gone. Dick was back, smiling that boyish grin.

“Did you enjoy that, Dick” I coyly asked.

“Of course I did. But the real question is, did YOU enjoy it, Tessa?”

I looked up at him, makeup smeared, hair sweaty, heart racing and said, “Yes. I was surprised by you. I didn’t take you for such a bad boy.”

He smiled and got up from the bed. “Yeah, most people think I am nice guy. And I am, but I have a dark side. Now let’s get dressed and go out.”

WTH? Disco Hell? After all of that?

We arrived at the Red Lion Pub around midnight.  The parking lot was full and you could hear the music from outside. The place was packed. I’d managed to pull myself together  with a quick shower and another drink. My outfit was perfect for the occasion. Dick seemed to like it.  He looked disco-chic, wearing some black pants and a dark blue button down, opened up to his chest. He was sporting a fake gold medallion necklace and totally looked the part. It was fun to dress up like that for a change.

We walked in and went to the bar. Dick ordered us a round of shots.  And another. After all of that sex and no dinner, I was almost drunk.  Dick led me to the dance floor and we starting dancing.

This clean cut boy was just full of surprises. Not only was he a sex machine, but he had some smooth moves. Pretty soon, we were in full swing…like we were in the dance contest on Saturday Night Fever. We never left the dance floor. It was great fun.

We closed down the pub around 3:00 and ventured back to his house.  I was thirsty and starving. And sore. With all of the acrobatic sex and dancing, I felt like I’d just done a P90X (more like a P90-SEX) workout. We’d been so “busy” all night, that we’d both forgotten to eat. He suggested we make breakfast together and I was all for that.

He retrieved some eggs and butter from the fridge for scrambled eggs. He asked me to make them while he put on some coffee and made the toast.  I love to cook, so I was happy to oblige. Just as I finished whisking the eggs, I felt him standing behind me.  His hand ventured up my skirt and he slowly pulled my panties down.

“What about the eggs?” I asked. I knew once we got started, there would be no way I could cook.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, Tessa” he quipped.

So I managed to pour the eggs into the hot pan and finish them. He stood behind me the entire time. I moved the pan to a cool place on the stove and turned to face him.

“The eggs are ready” I said.

“I know. We should let them cool a bit, don’t you think?”

I agreed. I could see that he wanted me right there in the kitchen. I recognized that look in his eyes. I turned back around to make sure I’d turned off the stove and he moved in closer behind me, pulling up my skirt as he unzipped his pants.  I could feel his hard cock touching my back. I wanted him again, badly.

He reached for the stick of butter on the counter. He unwrapped it and began smearing it all over his fingers. I was a bit confused as to what he was doing. I’d experimented with “food” play before, but never with butter.

Before I could figure out what was about to happen, I felt the cold stick of butter on my ass. Was he really smearing butter on my ass? And then he spread my cheeks and rubbed the stick of butter around my hole, fingering it with his slippery fingers. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. The butter was becoming soft in his grip and he slathered some on his cock. Then I got the memo. He was going to take my ass…right then, right there in the kitchen and butter was his medium.

You know, this brings a whole new take on buttering the biscuits…

(To be continued)

in the kitchen-best

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (Part 2)

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

So it was set…

I was making a “house call” as he so cleverly put it.  When it was time to leave for the day, Dick pulled me aside.

“Why don’t you just spend the weekend with me?”

I thought about it for a minute. I was off of “call” for the weekend. I had no other plans. He was a good kisser with an obvious dirty side. So I thought, what the hell…

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He smiled, “Good. Pack a bag and meet me over at my place around 8:00. We may be going out, so bring more than your nightie.” He snickered and winked at me.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I needed to know so I could prepare the perfect outfit.

He played coy with me, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe dinner. Maybe drinks. Maybe hell”

“Hell?” (What the hell does “hell” mean???)

He said, “Yes, Hell.  Disco Hell. You up for it?”

Disco Hell was a themed night a local bar/pub sponsored once a month. They played 70’s disco music and most people dressed for the occasion in their bell bottoms, and disco dresses. And I had the PERFECT ensemble already.

My answer to him, “Hell yes!”

I got home and packed accordingly. I brought a sexy black gown, heels, a couple of outfits and a sultry sundress and my outfit for Disco Hell. It was a micro mini in a Pucci print, with a plunging halter top and platform heels. I managed to sell my plans to my suspicious parents (I’d just moved back home) as a girl’s trip to Athens for the weekend, and I set off to Chez Dick.

He lived in the historic district of town, where many of the old houses had been converted into apartments. I assumed he lived in an apartment too, but he actually lived in a house. It was a bungalow style from the 1940’s, mostly renovated. It was small but very nice. He met me at the car and helped me carry my bags in.

He took my bags to his room and toured me around the house. We ended up in the kitchen where he fixed me a drink and we sat in there and talked for a while. The chemistry seemed to be fading and I wondered if I’d made the right decision to spend the weekend.

It was almost 10:00 and the drinks were making me sleepy.  Maybe I was bored, who knows.  Dick could tell I was losing interest and said, “Get dressed, let’s go out.”

I hesitated for a moment, but then I remembered it was Disco Hell and I had a fabulous outfit. I excused myself to the bathroom to touch up my makeup and came out to get my outfit, where I found Dick lying on the bed, completely naked.

“I don’t have anything to wear to Disco Hell.” he smirked.

I took his cue and stripped down right there, and said, “Neither do I.”

He stood up and walked over to me. We stood there admiring each other. His physique was lean and toned. I’d not realized how tall he was, as I was usually wearing some type of heels. Naked and barefoot, I felt small in his presence. He pulled my mouth towards his and kissed me…like he meant it. I almost lost my balance. To play it off, I stepped back and gracefully dropped to my knees.

I looked up at him and saw that boyish grin on his face. I thought to myself, ‘he has no idea who he has in his bedroom right now…I am about to blow his mind.’ And I focused on his hard cock facing me.

And holy shit….Dick had a huge one. He was originally from the Midwest and I’d heard those Nebraska, corn-fed boys were big-hanging, but I had no idea Dick was packing such a compromising package. No wonder he went by the name Dick. Sorry, I digress.  But damn.

I was swift in my work, taking the entire length of his shaft down my throat. I was determined not to gag, because I was a professional after all. I should be able to handle my liquor and my Dick. And as I concentrated on the task at hand, I felt his hands on the back of my head.

“Take it all, Tess. You horny girl. Take it all. You want me to fuck your mouth don’t you? Don’t answer that. I know you do. Keep sucking that huge cock.”

Had my mouth not already been wide-ass open, I would have probably sat there with my mouth wide-ass open in shock, hearing such dirty talk from Mr. Nice Guy, Dick.

He pushed himself in and out of my mouth until I was a slobbering mess.  The makeup I’d just applied was long gone. We went on like that for a while when he pulled me up from the floor and put me onto the bed.

“Damn, you are good. I knew you would be. You have a certain look about you, Tess. You do know what your are doing. Now I am going to show you a thing or two.”

(To be continued)

Dick-pt 2

A Man Named Dick (Part 1)

His name was Dick.

No, I am serious.  His real name was Richard, but he went by Dick. I met him in the summer of 1994. We worked together at the penis pump company (that’s enough for an entire post on its own…it was a legitimate medical company that sold erection devices.) Dick worked in technical support and I worked in customer service and if you will recall at that time,  I’d just begun my first “side hustle” as an escort.

And now that I write this, I find it ironic that both of my jobs involved sex.

Life was easy back then. My work schedule was 10:00 am-6:00 pm (the same as his) and I’d leave work, go home and get ready for any “calls” I had for the evening.  I stayed pretty busy and there was little time for dating anyone, but Dick was persistent.  Several times a week he would ask me out for dinner, a drink, coffee, a walk…anything.

So one night, I accepted. I decided to live a little. We went out to a downtown pub and had some drinks and appetizers. It was fun. He was a great guy. Blonde, blue-eyed, tall and lean. He was a runner and in excellent shape. And he was a good guy…squeaky clean. Not my type at all.  But still, the date was going well and I enjoyed spending time with him.

And then my pager began going off.  I muted it and carried on with the date. It went off again. And again. So I politely excused myself to the bathroom, found a pay phone (remember this was 1994) and called the boss, Gina.

“Where are you?” she asked. I could tell she was irritated.

“Sorry, I am on a date.” I replied.

She giggled. “Crap! I forget that you still date. Do you want to take a couple of calls for me tonight? These two have asked for you specifically.”

So I pondered it for a moment…two regulars would mean a lot of money. These two would tip well also. So I asked her to give me some time and I would make it happen.

I went back to the table and finished my drink. And made up an excuse to cut it short. Lucky for me, he bought it. We walked to my car and said, “I enjoyed this. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

I thought about it for a moment. Maybe I could pull it off…dating and working? So I smiled a devious grin, “I don’t know, Dick. What are we doing?”

He smiled, “Something fun. How about dinner and the comedy club?”

That would not work for me.  It would take way too much time. So I said, “Let’s save the club for another time, tomorrow is a work night.”  He agreed. And as I turned to get into my car, he laid a kiss on me that made my toes curl.  This clean-cut boy clearly had some skills.

So I went home, changed clothes, packed my bag of tricks and headed out for the first call.  It was Andy, one of my favorites.  We always had a great time together. He was the one who liked to fuck me in front of the mirror. That night was no exception. He paid for additional time and I almost forgot about my next call.  But I made it just in time.

The next regular was nothing to write home about. I loved the conversation, but the sex was mediocre. It seemed every time we saw each other, it was always mediocre. I think he wanted an escort more for the conversation than the sex. But he liked to tip.

The night was over and I was several hundred dollars richer. My thoughts reflected back to Dick. He had surprised me with that kiss. I wondered what he would be like in bed.

The next day arrived and work went by faster than usual. Before I knew it, the day was over and it was on to dinner with Dick. I’d told my “boss” Gina that I would not be available until after 9:00.

We ate at a small cafe on the river. It was nice. Romantic and charming. Dinner was delicious and the drinks were ever-flowing. I quickly found myself a bit tipsy.  He could see I was feeling good and suggested we take a walk along the river walk. We held hands and strolled about on the cobblestone path. I was thankful that I’d not worn my highest heels that night.

We approached an empty park along the way.  He quickly pushed me up against a tree and planted another one of those kisses on my unsuspecting lips. I could feel his desire. Actually, I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against my body.

“Tess, I want you right here, right now. I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you. You are so damn sexy.”

I was shocked. Crisp and clean Dick had a dirty side. I liked it. Soon after, my blouse was open and my bra was off. He teased my hard nipples with his tongue.

And just as I was about to drop to my knees and show him my dirty side, my pager went off. Three times in a row.

I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I needed to go.

“I would love to take this further, but I need to go for now.”

He backed away, defeated. “Why? Who pages you all the time?”

Oh shit, I thought…not prepared for that question, especially after so many drinks.

“I can’t explain now, but I promise, I will tell you later.”

And just like Cinderella, I fled the scene, except I didn’t leave my shoe behind…I left my bra.

I made it to a phone and got the info for the night.  Luckily it turned out to be one call, an older gent. I would be in and out (no pun intended) and done for the evening.  And just like that…I was.

But I needed to come up with something to tell Dick at work the next day.  I thought about it as I drove home. What if I just took a couple of nights off? That way, I could put the pager down, without feeling like I was missing out. And I could focus time with him, maybe for two consecutive days. That should throw him off of my trail.

The next day at work, Dick approached me just as I was getting coffee.

Leaning against the water cooler, he inquired, “So Tess, where did you run off to last night?”

I tried to be dismissive in my response. “Well Dick, I had something to do. I am helping a friend out with some things.” I answered.

“What kind of friend?” he inquired. Peering straight through me and my bullshit.

“Her name is Gina. I’d forgotten that she needed me to look in on some of her elderly clients. She runs a home care business” Damn, that was quick! (And I came up with that gem, in the morning…before coffee?) I was quite proud of my lie.

He smiled and whispered in my ear, “I know what you do, Tess. And it’s okay. It makes me want you more.”

Then he walked away to his desk. And I stood there stunned.

I managed to avoid chatting with him until later that day when Dick sauntered over to my desk. “Where would you like to go tonight, Tessa?” he asked.

I smiled and said, “how about the comedy club?”

He smiled and said, “how about my house?”

I licked my lips and grinned, “Even better, Dick. Even better.”

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

(To be continued)

sex at work

(Photo credit: Google/Pinterest)

Between the Sheets

Hello, Everyone. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I apologize for the long hiatus. I have no specific reason for my absence. I didn’t join a cult or a convent. Nor did I run for president of the PTO. I didn’t jet off to a hedonistic self-help retreat. No, I have been here the entire time, lurking in the shadows…content to lie between the sheets of this bed I’ve made for myself.  Just lying here, reveling in the endless sticky memories of lovers and scenes.

Now it’s time for me to roll over and stretch. It’s time for me to pull back the covers and invite you back into my warm bed of decadence. A place where things get quite tawdry.

I think it’s time for a bedtime story, don’t you?

back in bed-rev

Stay tuned, there is much more to come.

 

 

 

Triple Play Weekend, pt. 2

Memorial Day Weekend, 2014

Saturday morning arrived and I began packing to visit the pierced shrink in Hilton Head. Although I was only going for one night, I had no idea what to bring. Would we go out? Would we stay in? What type of lingerie should I pack? Sweet and demure? Tawdry?  So I ended up packing a bunch of shit I knew I didn’t need, but had ‘just in case’.  I arrived a couple of hours late (due to the babysitter’s delay) and I texted him when I pulled up at the main entrance.

He lived in a gated community on a marina. There were old world shops and cafes lining the sidewalk. His condo faced the water and he met me at the car. “It’s nice to meet you, I am Sean.” He got my suitcase from the trunk and took me by the hand as we walked towards his condo. My legs and body were still sore from being with Mark the day before. We boarded the elevator and out of nowhere, he pushed me up against the back wall and planted a deep passionate kiss on my unsuspecting mouth. “I can’t wait to have you.” he said.

His condo was on a corner unit, top floor. His large balcony faced the marina. We sat outside sipping on wine. I stood at the railing and looked out at all the boats when he walked up behind me, “I want you right here, Tessa.  Right now.”

At first, I was reluctant…shying away at the thought of fucking him outside on his balcony, but then I realized…I am on an island…with a shrink…with a piercing, so I went for it. He quickly disrobed me and himself. I wanted to look at his cock (before he put on the condom). I needed to see this piercing. His cock was quite large for his small stature, the piercing was a stud, midway down the shaft. I began to feel a tinge of panic, wondering if it would hurt when he entered me. I worried if the piercing would tear the condom…and before I could think about it, I felt him inside me.

I was still sore from being savagely fucked the day prior, but the piercing rubbed against my G-spot and sent me over the edge, almost instantly. He told me to hold on to the rail as he picked my legs up and fucked me deeper. It was so intense, I moaned…loudly. I didn’t care if anyone heard me…I didn’t care if anyone saw us…I just wanted more. We moved to his bedroom and he fucked me from behind. I watched him pound me from a mirror that faced the bed. It was a hot scene…primal and dirty. And it was about to get dirtier.

I felt him finger my ass with his thumb, as he fucked me, which drove me crazy. I was putty in his hands and he knew it. He pulled out of my cunt and pushed his cock in my ass. The piercing made me squeal as I pushed my body into his. I wanted it. I wanted the sweet tinge of pain that came with every thrust. He lasted a long time and I came repeatedly. The piercing sent me over the edge and I felt like an animal, a beast..glazed over from the pleasure. Dripping with desire for more. He reached orgasm and we moved to the shower. He went from being a sex god, to a quirky sixth grader in a matter of minutes. It was so strange. Afterward, went out for dinner and he was quiet. Very quiet. I received a text from the IT guy (Daddy Dom Dave) and I excused myself, telling the shrink it was the babysitter.

“Did you go to Hilton Head?” he texted.

I texted back, “Yes. I am here now.”

“Good. So am I. I was worried you may need me, so I booked a room at the Hampton. Is everything okay?”

I could not believe that he would travel to Hilton Head to ensure I was okay. It was thoughtful and creepy at the same time. Since I was already outside alone (taking the fictional call from the sitter), I decided to call him.

“I cannot believe you drove to Hilton Head to make sure I was okay. Thanks, stalker!” I said in a playful tone.

“Well, I also wanted to see you. And it’s only an hour away from my house. Let me take you to breakfast tomorrow. Ditch the shrink and meet me in the morning….or tonight, if you need to.” he laughed.

“I think I will stay over tonight. But I will call you if I need to. What time and where do you want to meet tomorrow morning?”

“Just come to the hotel and we can take my car. I know a great place on the water. Best breakfast you’ve ever had.”

“It’s a date! Now I need to get back to my date!”

I walked back inside the restaurant and he was ready to leave. From there, we walked to a bar in his community and I drank far more than I should have. Tipsy and horny we sauntered back to his place, where he fucked me again. And again. We fell asleep and he woke me up to fuck me again. The next morning arrived and I was exhausted and sore. I opened my eyes to find a cup of coffee waiting for me at the bedside. I heard him in the shower and decided it was a good time to make a swift exit. He was quiet when he got out of the bathroom, back to his quirky personality. I was packed up and ready to go.

“I have to get on the road. Thank you so much for having me.” I said.

“It was fun. Come see me again. Soon.” he said.

He offered to help get my suitcase to the car, but I’d already taken it down while he was in the shower. We kissed and I walked out the door, texting Dave, the Daddy Dom, as I walked to my car. Damn, my legs were so sore.

Me: “On my way to the Hampton. Can I use your shower when I get there. Needed to make a quick exit this morning.”

Dave: “Sure thing! Want some coffee?”

Me: “Yes. Please. I am sooo tired.”

Dave: “Room 212. Door will be open.Be safe driving.”

And there I was…on my way to visit bachelor #3. The last stop on my triple play adventure.

(To be continued)

balcony

Photo credit, Pinterest

Triple Play Weekend, pt. 1

Spring 2014.

As the days began to heat up, so did my desire. The warmth of sun during the day and the longer evenings at night seemed to ignite my curiosity. I was experimenting with online dating and had found a few prospects to chat with here and there. One of them was a pharmaceutical sales rep, another was an IT professional and another was a psychiatrist. There were a barrage of others, but these three were the ones I spoke with most often.

The psychiatrist was odd. Quirky and moody. Chatty one minute and then suddenly quiet. He lived about 3 hours away, on Hilton Head Island.  He invited me to visit several times and although I was tempted because of the location, his mercurial personality kept me from making any definite plans. That seemed to irritate and intrigue him at the same time. The pharmaceutical rep was very upfront.  He wanted a long-term affair, as his marriage worked well from a home/kids stance, but there was no passion. He had a deep Southern accent and cussed like a sailor, dropping f-bombs like poetry. And the IT guy was an experienced kinkster. He and his ex-wife were into swinging with other couples. When they split he started a relationship with a much younger woman, who looked to him for everything. After a couple of years, they split. I could tell by the third conversation, he was a Daddy Dom. He liked rescuing the damsel in distress. He liked having control. I found him interesting.

And really…if I am being truthful, all I wanted from any of these guys was hot sex. No long-term relationships. Nothing serious. I just wanted some fun. So given that predicament, what’s a bad girl to do? Or let me rephrase that…WHO is a bad girl to do? It was a difficult decision, as I’d grown fond of all of them. Memorial Day weekend was upon me and I had invites to meet them all…who to pick?  Why choose? Meet all three…which is precisely what I did.

I took Friday off and the pharmaceutical rep, Mark, paid me a visit. He lived several hourse south of me and drove in early that morning.  I watched him as he pulled in my driveway.  He was hot as hell and could have been Mark Walhberg’s stunt double. DAAAYYYUMM, he was sexy.  Such swagger. Such confidence.  He arrived at my door, which I’d left ajar, and walked into my house to find me on my knees waiting for him.  He swaggered over to me with that boyish grin and said, “You are one sexy bitch. I am going to love fucking you.” And with that he dropped trou and parted my lips with his thick cock. He pushed the hair from my face and looked into my eyes as he fucked my throat. He took me by the hand and walked me over to the loveseat where bent me over and devoured my wet cunt. He held me open as he went about his work. I came unglued and that fueled his fire. He could talk dirty better than anyone I’d ever met and his filthy language brought me to a different place of arousal. He goaded me as he pushed his cock inside me. “Motherfuck that’s some good shit..such a sloppy wet pussy. So fucking tight around me. I wanna feel you squirt on my dick. Come on me and suck it off you dirty little slut.” And he went on from there, “Fuck that is so good. Motherfuck you are tight” Let’s just say that it was late afternoon before we both knew it.  I could barely stand upright as he had worked my body over. My hair was a matted mess and we looked at each other and laughed. “Damn, girl. You know how to fuck. I can’t wait to see you again.” We stayed in bed and talked for a bit before he was on his way. I watched him swagger into his car and let out a long sigh…He was just what I was craving.

A few minutes later my phone buzzed with a text. It was the shrink from Hilton Head. “Please come see me this weekend. We will have a good time, I promise.” And with that, I responded, “I will be there tomorrow.  Send me your address.” He was shocked! And immediately called me, “Are you serious? You are finally going to visit me?”

“Yes. Let me get a babysitter and I will be there tomorrow and tomorrow night.  I will need to go home early Sunday.” He seemed excited and then said, “there’s something I need to tell you.” And I thought…here it comes.  He’s married…or he’s not really a shrink…or he doesn’t actually live where he said he did..or better yet, he’s a serial killer. I braced myself for the news.

“I have a piercing on my…on my cock. I’ve had it for years and women love the feel of it. I didn’t want you to be surprised if things go there.”

Of course things were going there.  I was intrigued by the piercing. It was something I’d not experienced before. I was excited by the thought of how it would feel. My response was positive,”I can’t wait to experience what that feels like. I will see you tomorrow.”

So there it was…Mark Walhberg one day…the pierced shrink the next. It was going to be a good weekend…and this bad girl was just getting started.

(To be continued)

markymark

Photo credit, Pinterest

 

 

 

No Pain…No Gain

Usually when you see the words “no pain, no gain” it is about exercise, growth and discipline. In my case, it was quite literal.(Warning…this post may not be for everyone. It is intense and graphic and long.  Proceed with caution…)

During the Spring of 2014, I went on a quest for enlightenment. There was nothing taboo on my to-do list.  I wanted to explore.  I wanted to experience.  I wanted to feel alive again. I needed to be released from captivity.  I didn’t know where to start.  There were NO prospects at work.  Lee and I were still in contact, but I wanted someone new.  I wanted new experiences.  So I created an “Alt.com” account. (For those of you who aren’t familiar, Alt.com is a “dating” site for those who are into BDSM, and/or different kinks/fetishes)

And my inbox was inundated with enlightenment. About 100 messages later, I filtered out a couple of interesting propositions.  The one that really caught my attention was the sadist. He was unapologetic and direct. He was aroused by inflicting pain on his subjects. He did clarify that he did not go to extremes, but helped people release their most dark and deviant desires. I was reluctant but intrigued.  After all, I’d done just about everything on my sexual bucket list, many times over, so I felt that I needed to expand my perspective.

After talking and messaging for over a month, we agreed to meet one weekend.  I wanted to ensure my safety, so we exchanged pertinent information.  I verified his full name, address, date of birth, occupation, and had a friend run a background check on him.  Yes, I know…a bit overboard, but his check was clean and he was who he said he was.  My friend knew exactly where we were going and I was to check in after we met, so that she would know I was okay.  He lived about an hour from me, and reserved a hotel suite for our adventures. I liked that we were meeting in a neutral location. It gave me an added sense of security.  It made me feel  like I wouldn’t end up in the bottom of a well with him screaming, “put the fucking lotion in the basket.” I also liked that he sent me an actual questionnaire, regarding my limits and curiosities.  We reviewed it together in detail so we would be on the same page.  He knew my limits and he knew my kinks. And I had no idea what to expect.

I was to arrive in the room first and get ready for the evening.  He asked that I wear a black dress and heels. So I happily obliged and took my time getting ready.  I had no idea what I was preparing for, but I was giddy with anticipation. He knew I was nervous and asked me to go to the hotel bar for a drink, before he got there. I was almost finished with the third Cosmo when I received a text, “I am here. Come now.”

I tossed back the drink, cashed out and made my way to the room.  He was waiting at the door for me, with a large imposing black bag and a sadistic grin. I walked towards him realizing that there was still time to turn and run the other way. But instead, I walked with confidence and purpose, eager to release the demons that lurked deep within my bones.

“Hello, Kevin.  I am Tess.  Nice to meet you”

He had an imposing stature, tall and muscular.  He was dressed in black slacks and a black shirt. His sandy blonde hair was slightly messy and he smelled divine. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess.  Are you ready?” he asked as I put the card in the door.

I smiled and said, “I think so.” and with that he put his arm around my waist and walked me into the room, backing me up against the wall. He said, “Are you ready is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.  I need an answer now.  If you don’t want to go further, it’s okay. But I need to know NOW.”

He took the breath away from me. I was scared and aroused and I looked into his brown eyes and said, “The answer is yes.  Yes I am ready.”

“Good. What is the safeword we discussed?” he asked.

“Red is to stop.  Yellow to slow down.”

“Good girl.  Take off the dress.  Leave on the heels.”

I slowly unzipped my dress and let it fall to my feet.  I stared into his eyes as I removed my bra and eased my lacy black panties down my legs. I stood before him, completely naked, in heels.

He walked towards me and clutched my throat as he kissed me. “You are so beautifully sexy and vulnerable right now. I am going to fuck you till you can’t walk.  I am going to hurt you and allow to let go of yourself. On your knees, now.”

I fell to my knees and looked up at him.  He stroked my chin as he pulled his hard cock from his pants. “Suck until I tell you to stop.” he ordered.  I took him into my mouth as he pushed himself farther and farther, aggressively fucking my throat. It was a messy scene of saliva and tears with smeared lipstick and runny mascara, as he made my eyes water with every thrust.  “Your tears are sexy as hell. This is just the beginning. Stand up and put your hands on the table, spread your legs.”

He stood behind me and I could feel his hard cock on my body. He growled in my ear, “You are not allowed to cum, until I tell you.  Do you understand?”

I said, “Yes, I understand” and with that, he pushed my face down onto the table and began fucking me. He started massaging my clit while he fucked my hole and I felt myself beginning to climax.  I gritted my teeth and concentrated on not having an orgasm, but he would not stop. I was panicked because I didn’t know how to stop myself from going over the edge. I said, “I don’t know if I can stop. Please let me cum.”

He laughed and said, “No. You have to take it. If you cum, I will stop. I will leave. And we will not go any further.”

I didn’t want that to happen, as I wanted to push limits with him, so I regained composure and focused on taking his torment.  A few minutes later, he stopped and told me to grab a towel and get on the bed.  As I began walking towards the bedroom, he snapped, “Crawl to me, slut.” I still had my heels on and I clenched the towel with my teeth as I crawled to the bed.

“Very nice. Now give me your hands.” he swiftly placed leather cuffs on my wrists and tied me to the bed. I felt nervous by what was coming next when I heard the sound of him rummaging through his bag of tricks.  He pulled out several items and I felt a sense of terror as I heard him approach me. I was face down on the bed, with my hands tied and I could not see what was coming.

“Open your legs wide.” He felt the wetness of my cunt and began fingering me.  He abruptly stopped and then fingered my ass.  He stopped and I could hear him squirting lube on his fingers as he assaulted my tight hole again. He was preparing me for something and I was excited by what was coming next.

He walked towards my face and showed me what was coming next.  He was holding a large dildo in his hand.  He stroked my cheek with it and said, “I am about to fuck your ass with this huge, 11 inch dildo. You are going to take every inch of it, aren’t you?  Oh, it is going to hurt, isn’t it?”  I nodded.  “What’s your safeword, Tess?”

“Red to stop, yellow to slow down.” I said.  My heart was racing. He began to push the large instrument in my ass, slowly, twisting it to add to the torment.  He kept whispering, “Take it, Tess.  Take it all.” and ironically, I found the sound of his voice comforting.  I relaxed as he filled me. Once I’d taken the entire length of the dildo, he told me to hold it there.

He massaged my feet with one hand as he pushed the dildo into my ass in a slow rhythm. I loved the pain. I craved each thrust. I felt myself getting close to the edge, when he stopped to retrieve something from his bag.  I heard him open a package and then felt something cold on my foot, like an alcohol pad, between my toes.

“On your questionnaire, you had a strong curiosity about needle play.  I am about put needles between your toes, while I continue to violate your ass. So I will need you to be completely still.”

I shuddered at the thought and yet I felt aroused.  He showed me that each needle was sterile packed in an individual package (did I mention that he was physician’s assistant). He opened the space between my great toe and the other toe, wiped it down again and inserted a 25g needled in between my toes.  It was intoxicating.  The feeling of pressure, of penetration, of a slight prick of pain all while being ass-fucked was almost too much.  He kept at his work, and before long I had needles in both feet, a dildo in my ass and his cock in my hole.  He held my feet up as he fucked me, his body driving the dildo farther inside me.  I was so overcome with sensation that I began to come unglued.  I started to weep.  Not from the pain, but from the pleasure…from the release.

He was aroused by my tears and picked up the pace, savagely fucking me. “Tess, you are allowed to cum now.  Let go.  Let it go.” And with that I let go and had the most intense orgasm of my life. I gushed all over, the bed was soaked and so was my pillow, from where I’d been crying. He came immediately after and slowly removed the dildo from my ass and the needles from my toes.  He untied my wrists and removed the cuffs.  He turned me to face him.  I was still emotional from the experience.

Without a single word, he got a warm washcloth and wiped my tears.  He kissed my forehead as he began to clean me up. His touch was tender and affectionate.  He whispered in my ear, “You were amazing tonight.  You truly let yourself go.  How do you feel?’

My voice was shaky from the intensity of what had just happened.  Teary-eyed I looked at him and said, “I don’t know how I feel.  I feel confused, but I feel content.”

He scooped me up in his arms and held me as we drifted off to sleep. I awoke to him packing his bag.  He sat on the bed next to me. “You are probably going to feel some confusion over what you experienced tonight. I am here to talk to you whenever you need me. This is just the beginning of what we could do together.  If you want to explore more, I will be here.  If you don’t, that’s okay.  I will understand either way.  This is not for everyone.  But your response was beautiful and liberating. I do hope we can see each other again.”

And with that, he placed a bottle of water on the nightstand, tucked me into the covers like a child, kissed my forehead and left. A couple of minutes later I received a text, “room service comes at 7:30 with breakfast.  You need to eat something, Tess.  Text me when you get home.”

To be continued…

cuffs

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

One Hit Wonders-Hotel Atlanta

It was January 2004.  I’d been invited by my boss to accompany her to a conference in Atlanta.  Translation:  she needed a wingman/sidekick/bad girl to hang out with her at this boring 3-day conference.  I was happy to oblige. I enjoyed any opportunity to let my hair down and sow some oats.

Her name was Jane and she was simply beautiful. She had the facial structure of Angelina Jolie, with dark auburn hair. She was tall and statuesque. Men noticed her. And you put us together with my long dark wavy hair, full lips and hourglass body, and we caused quite a stir. On our first night there, we sat at the hotel bar chatting over happy hour drinks, when we were approached by two older gentlemen.  They sat down with us and struck up a conversation. Before long, we were having dinner with them. They were from Boston, there on business with large expense accounts and even larger…egos.  We grew tired of their posturing and excused ourselves soon after dinner.

We were both tired from the day’s events and retired to our room. Since I was not a paid attendee of the conference (I was just there for Jane) I had to share a room with her.  It was no big deal, as there were 2 queen beds and a bathroom mirror large enough to accommodate us both getting ready at the same time. It was all good. We put on our pajamas, cracked open a bottle of wine and had cocktail confessions. It was like a grown-up sleepover. We laughed and giggled for hours. Jane was just as wild as me.  We shared stories of our escapades, as we finished up the wine and moved on to a fresh new bottle of gin. We were both sauced when Jane spilled an entire drink on her bed.  It was soaked.

“Guess I will just have to bunk up with you tonight!” she exclaimed.  And we laughed and drank some more. It was approaching 2:00 am, when we finally ran out of mixer and decided to go to sleep. She and I said our good-nights and crawled into my bed.  I was beginning to dose off when I felt her hand on me. I had my back to her, but felt her playing with my hair. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I’d been with women at different times in my life, but it had been years…and this was my boss. I began thinking about how she would feel, how she would taste and I slowly rolled over to face her. She looked at me and stroked my face.

“You know me spilling that drink was no accident, don’t you? I’ve wanted you since I hired you. But I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know the door is open.”

And without thought, or hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her soft mouth. I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember that we flung off the covers and sat up in the middle of the bed kissing while we undressed each other. She pulled me into her body, facing me away from her as she massaged my spot, making me cum almost immediately. I could not wait to taste her as I opened her legs and found that she was dripping wet with anticipation. I made her wait for it, teasing her by kissing her inner thighs, avoiding her sweet cunt, until she could not stand it any longer.  We fucked all night.  No inhibitions. No limits. Insatiable.  We finally collapsed as the sun rose, getting about 2 hours of sleep before we had to wake up. I heard her in the shower when I shuffled into the bathroom for a drink of water.

“Good morning, you.” she said from behind the shower curtain, “how did you sleep?”

“I didn’t get much sleep, but I feel rested,” I replied.

“Yeah, me too.” she snickered.  She soon made her way out of the shower and I jumped in.  We went about our day as if nothing had happened.  There was no awkwardness.  No shame. No difference in how we were than before it happened. I was glad.  I didn’t want there to be any strangeness.

That evening she had made plans for us to go to a local night spot for dancing.  We ate a quick dinner and hopped a cab to the club.  We danced for hours.  She found a “friend” and went back to his place.  He was a strapping young lad and I knew she was in for a good time.  I’d met a few fellas, but no one that really interested me, so I went back to the hotel. As the cab approached the door to the lobby, a man that was standing out front opened my door, “Good evening.  Let me help you out.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you. And they say chivalry is dead.”

He said, “I am proof that is not true. Let me show you.  Come have a drink with me.”

And I thought…what the hell.  Why not?

Over some very dirty Martini’s I found out he was from Ohio and was attending the same conference that we were. He mentioned seeing me during one of the workshops and wanting to ask me to dinner, but not having the opportunity.  He was nice looking and smart.  And married, like me.  He was charming and I’d already made up my mind to fuck him senseless before the night was over.

After several drinks, I excused myself for the evening.  He insisted on walking me to my room.  I knew the routine…we would kiss…our clothes would end up in a pile on the floor….we would fuck…he would leave and that would be that.  But when we got to my room, he froze.  No kiss.  No move.  Nothing.  I didn’t make a move either, I was expecting him to.  Before I knew it, he was walking away to his room.  I shrugged it off.  I would have liked to have had wild, crazy sex with a stranger, but if it was not in the cards…that was okay too.

I had just gotten undressed when I heard a tap at the door.  I peered out of the peep hole and saw him standing there.  I answered the door with nothing on but a towel, wondering if he had finally gotten up the nerve to seal the deal.  He saw me standing there barely covered and it was on.

We kissed as we made our way to the bed.  I still had the towel on, but he reached up and pulled it off of me. I began taking off his shirt and pants.  When I pulled down his boxer briefs, I was in shock. I was not expecting him to be packing.  He seemed so unsure of himself. But this fella was hung like Seabiscuit.  I was in awe.  Regardless if he had skills or not, I knew exactly what to do with that.  I could not wait to have him inside me.

After he fumbled with the condom, I finally got my wish.  His cock was so large that I felt a tinge of pain as he pushed himself inside. I loved it. He wasn’t aggressive enough for me, so I took the lead and mounted him. I don’t remember how many times I came, but I loved fucking him.  After a couple of rounds, he got dressed and left, just as Jane came in.  I told her about him and she told me about her night.  She’d had a great time with a young cowboy.  He was not as well endowed as my guest, but she had lots of fun.

And although her bed was in pristine condition, no drinks spilled on it that night, she chose to sleep with me. We didn’t do anything but sleep…tangled up and naked, both of us sated. The morning came and we were back to business as usual.  We maintained a great working friendship and never crossed that line again.  And although we work in different states, we are still friends, and Jane is just as beautiful.

jane

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

If Only For One Night…

September, 2002.  I don’t recall ever being as focused and productive in my life. I took on the challenges of each new day like a badass mercenary. I was unstoppable. It did not matter what came up at work or at home, I was up for it. The way I saw it, each new day brought me closer to the big day.

The day Courtney and I would cross our own boundaries into our magical place of refuge…each other.

The anticipation was killing me.  I found myself answering my work phone on the first ring in hopes of hearing his voice…of knowing the specifics of the plan. I got my wish a few days before the big day…he called with details.

“We have a suite at the Riverfront Marriott on Monday the 23rd.  I will arrive early in the day for meetings.  You come over when you can.  There will be an envelope for you at the front desk.” he paused, “but get there as soon as you can, I want as much time as I can have with you.”

I was speechless.  It was happening.  It was really happening….I had no reservations about crossing the threshold of infidelity.  I’d already darkened the door to the other side many times over with Greg at work.  But this was Courtney.  This was different…this was the love of my life.  I didn’t know if I could I ever walk away from him again.

“Hello?  Tess are you there?” he asked

I quickly responded, “Yes!  Yes I am here.  Just thinking.  Taking it all in…that’s all.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No” I replied.  “Not at all.  I can’t wait to see you.  I do worry that I may not be able to walk away again.”

“Tessa, we will be fine.  We can handle this.  If it gets too much, I will be the one to stop it before it goes there. I’ve got us. Okay?”

That made me feel better.  I’d always been the one to shut it down.  I’d been the one to walk away.  I felt safe knowing he would take care of us…that I didn’t have to.

I’d been planning my fake out-of-town meeting for a week  before my husband took notice.  I told him over dinner one night and then casually brought it up again a few days later.  He seemed uninterested and asked if he needed to pick up our son. As I was about to answer, he said, “So you’ll be gone on the 23rd? Overnight?”

“Yes.  Remember?  I told you last week.  There’s a training in Savannah on Tuesday, I will have to go down there on Monday evening.”

He looked irritated, “That’s not going to work, Tess.  Remember, I have my safety conference in Boulder that week. Someone needs to be here for Nick.  Your parents hate driving on this side of town, so you need to stay. I am not cancelling my plane reservation last minute. Maybe you can do the training another time.”

I felt like I’d be punched in the gut.  All of the air was sucked out of my balloon. I nodded in agreement and made my way to the kitchen to wash the dishes when it hit me.  He will be gone for a week…in Colorado…halfway across the US.  I can still see Courtney.  I thought further…I will have Nick stay with his friend overnight and all will be as planned.  Hot Damn, Van Damme!  You can’t keep a good girl down.

The next day, when I spoke to Courtney, I told him about the near miss.  He chuckled, “we should cancel the hotel reservation and I should just come over to  your house.”

We were both silent as we pondered the scenario.  I laughed…then he laughed…then we were silent.  And then I said, “Sure. You should come over.”

And it was settled.  We decided to take it there…yes….there.  Nothing like peppering in more spice to an already volatile mixture.  I felt it was safe…John was flying out on Sunday morning and I would have verification he arrived long before Monday evening.  Courtney could park his car in the garage where it wouldn’t be seen.  We could actually “play house” in my house, doing all of the naughty things one should do at their domicile.

Monday arrived and I was calm.  Very calm.  I arranged for Nick to stay over at his friend’s house and made my way home from work.  Courtney was planning to come over around 8:00, when it was beginning to get dark, but not so late it would alert any of my curious neighbors.  I opened the garage about 7:50 and he arrived at 8:00 exactly.  I stood in the doorway to the kitchen as he got out of his car.

“So this is what coming home to you would feel like?” he muttered as he walked up the steps into the house.  He threw his overnight bag on the floor and took my face in his hands.  “A man could get used to this, you know?” and he overtook me with a kiss that made me stumble in my stance.

I took him on a tour of the house and we ended back in the kitchen, where I’d made us some appetizers to nosh on.  He made us both a drink and we stood there…staring at each other for the longest time.

“Are you sure about this, Tess?” he asked.  I nodded.  “Yes”

And with that affirmation, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning me with his body, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my red lacy bra. Within seconds, my shirt was off…his shirt was off. Then my skirt.  His pants.  We stood there and admired each other.  I dropped to my knees and took him deep in my mouth.  His head fell back and he let out a loud groan.  He grasped my hair in his hands and pushed me into his body.

“My god you are amazing” he whispered as I continued to take him deep in my throat.  My knees were sore from the cold floor below and I didn’t care.  I wanted nothing more than to be with him…in that moment. I wanted him to feel immense pleasure.  After a few minutes he pulled me up to my feet and walked me into the bedroom.

He carefully guided me to the bed, opening my legs with his.  Softly kissing my breasts down to my navel and then to my sweet spot.  He held my legs open onto his shoulders as he made me cum over and over.  I had not had orgasms like that in years and I began losing my voice from screaming so loudly.  He rolled me over onto my stomach where he traced my spine with his tongue.  Over and over.  I almost came unglued.  It was beyond sensual and I was lost in him again.  It was like it was before, only better, more intense, more mature.

He pulled me up to my knees and pushed himself inside me, taking my breath away just as he did the first time we were together.  He filled me.  All of me.  We fell into a rhythm as we made love on my bed.  We fucked for hours in every way possible, making up for our eight year hiatus. In between orgasms we talked and spooned and dozed off.  He stroked my hair and told me about his life.  About his kids.  About his job.  I did the same.  Neither of us were miserable in our ascribed paths, but neither of us were really happy. .

We watched the sun rise that morning, as we did on our first night.   I made us a cup of coffee and we drank it, tangled up together in bed.  We took a shower and got ready for work.  I could barely walk and I was exhausted…but I was fulfilled.  Complete in a way that I’d not been in years…eight years to be exact.

I watched him leave from my driveway with a sense of longing.  I wished we could have made a life together, but maybe this is how it is supposed to be…maybe some things are too good, too intense. They burn at too high of a temperature.  Maybe this was the only way “we” could be “us”.

I’d not paid any attention to his CD.  Our evening was so incredible, that I was lost in him and had no recollection of the songs he’d put together for us.  I took it out of the stereo and popped into the car for my drive to work.  And as I pulled out of the driveway, “If Only for One Night” came on.

It was apparent that he finally understood what I’d figured out eight years before…we could never get it together to be together, but we would never be over.  Even if it were just one night at a time…with eight years in between…that was enough.

It was enough. If only for one night…

one-night

(Photo credit, Pinterest)