Pillow Talk

Erotic Tales

The Salon – Challenge II

“Let’s get together some time! Call me!” How often have we said or heard this and not followed through? With that in mind this is my new challenge!! Ah yes … I know you’ve all been sitting on the edge of your seats waiting impatiently for this since the last one. *chuckle*

I want you to imagine a Salon. Like in the olden days when people of great intellect and talent would congregate in some famous location to exchange ideas and feel inspired or while away time during writers block or a Muses vacation. In this case I am the lady, Duchess, in question. I am the patron, the great mind and talent collector. Oh come on … it’s my challenge!

Duchess Fantasia de Lillith invites you to Le Manoire to share …. Share what? Ahhhh yes, good question. Good question indeed!!

Imagine we are all lavishly costumed (period of your choice – time and space play no part here!) and we are discussing … ah… Oh, you will have to wait and read the intro I wrote below to get the ball rolling.

How is this a challenge?:

On October 10th, 2009 (10/10/09) I shall post all your entries for the Salon Conversation – my only interference will be in connecting your words to create a fluid story line. They will be entered in the order they are received. Talk about collaboration!

Here are the rules:

– Describe yourself (like an avatar) and your perception of your surroundings.
– The “voice ” is that of talking to me and/or other equals in the room!
– Feel free to add some internal monologue if needed.
– No vanilla! Off the edge, outside your comfort zone.
– More than 200 words – less than 400. I will use a word count so don’t disqualify yourself!
– Entries must be received by October 8th, 2009 (10/08/09). I appreciate if you let me know in advance that you are planning to enter the challenge so that I may start creating the poll. Send to fantasia.lillith@gmail.com .

What’s in it for me?:

Awe come on!!! Really? Alright… fine. Besides the opportunity to shed light on your darker side, as patron of your art I shall grant you a PRIZE!! I will personally donate to your charity of choice (must be registered) the $ amount equal to the highest number of hits for a single day over the two week period the challenge will be live on my site. This could be a substantial donation!

How do I win?:

Competitive much? Jeeez!! I did not want to be the judge, just in case there might be some conflict of interest (I know some of you personally now!!) So I came up with this formula;

The largest amount of comments posted regarding your fantasy + the number of votes for you (via poll) = A number

… the story with the highest number wins. Simple. Yes, people have to comment AND vote!! Ooooh …. Think you can rally your troops? If this works – there may be more than one Salon!

So … without further ado (I do SO love that word) allow me to set the stage:

*****

Leaning against the massive, ornately carved, marble fireplace; I carefully sipped from the small crystal glass a sweet elixir of unknown origin left to me by one of my many past suitors. Its flavor was exquisite and every time I had a glass I felt as if years had been lifted from me. A feeling that turned out to be real and long lasting. I sipped it carefully not wanting to overdo it and give away the secret to my agelessness.

I reveled in my young body. The corset I had on made my bosom heave most seductively, the men, and some women, in the room could only stare with intense desire. The deep teal and emerald chinoiserie of my satin kimono swished in a series of tiny claps and whispers and I turned to face the large, yet welcoming room, exposing my legs and bare feet as I flopped gracefully onto the chaise longue of my Salon.

A handsome young lad, in livery of the same hues, took my now empty glass and I petted his firm ass as he left causing the most pleasing blush to color his cheeks. I sighed. I’d have to replace him soon as he got used to me having my way with him. His charm was in his not quite submissive shyness. I was sure I’d find a fine home for him among my Ladies. Oh that lovely discomfort was all too ephemeral.

A young and voluptuous middle eastern girl settled behind me and started to coif my long and unruly curls into an intricate “do” for that evening’s gala. Her soft and supple fingers never pulled a hair, and the scent of jasmine and her warm body made her delectable. My shoulders now exposed, I relaxed… Ah yes, this one I’d keep in my service a long time.

A few regulars, that liked to stay at Le Manoire, were already assembled before me. Soon others would join. An air of debauchery hung between us from last night’s foray, most of my guests still languid and at ease. I tossed a subject out for today’s discussion:

“I have this fantasy” … All heads snapped up, eyes glistening and ears eager to hear more.
“One I have not heard, Duchess?” says my consort as he brushes his hand lovingly across the full expanse of my bosom and leans in to kiss the beauty mark on my right breast.
“Yes, even you don’t know this one …. Awww love… don’t look so hurt… allow me some air of mystery”. A snort or two emanate from our guests. It is my turn to blush.

“As I was saying ….” I continue with a coy smile and a raised eyebrow … I have this fantasy”. I stop, suddenly a little unsure, take a deep shuddering breath, showing a rare glimpse of the vulnerable side of me.

“ I am in a large box. A very large box, almost like a small room. All around me are holes. Poking out of the holes are penises of every size and race. Wrapped around them are gems, or money in form of …. Payment …..” The silence in the room shows the shock some are feeling. The idea of The Duchess as a paid whore doesn’t sit well with some. My consort’s hand steadies on my shoulder. I kiss his palm before continuing.

“I take the payments … or … offerings … and suck” I place my consort’s finger in my mouth and demonstrate. His breath hisses audibly across the room “ … suck so much cock and end up covered in cum from head to toe. They can see me and what I am doing on a small screen outside the box, but they remain anonymous to me. I only know them as an endless sea of shafts.” I spread my legs gracefully to show that just talking about this has made me so moist, that a small trail is glistening on my inner thigh and has wetted my satin under garment. I sit up. Then suddenly stand up flustered.

“How is it that we can fantasize about those things that would, in reality, actually turn our stomachs? Things we would never, no matter how free we are in our sexual selves, actually do. Things that are in direct violation with who we are and our moral code? Do any of you have such fantasies? Am I … alone in this?”

I close my eyes, and walk back to the fireplace waiting for the heavy silence to be broken by a brave soul willing to share…. It lingers, like the elephant in the room, as my guests grapple a moment with their darker side. I sigh and wait.

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September 17, 2009 Posted by | erotica, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 36 Comments

Woven threads of our Sunday

A shared moment and thought – un-edited – not a story. A glimpse into the life of ….

Sunrise on Sunday morning…

Some love it for the guarantee of brunch, the paper and coffee in bed, for time with friends and family, or for the slow and easy pace the world seems to take on that second weekend day.

Some see it as the end of the week, I prefer it as the first day of mine. For me it is the promise of hours of slow, sweet fucking, and the launching of my soul to depart and float forward and mingle with his, that makes Sunday my “it” day.

You’ll find the phone off the hook, the “do not disturb” sign on the door and us laying entwined, sweat glistening off our bodies and my hand reaching down for his still hard cock.

Slowly and methodically I will stroke him, pressure building towards the head. Leaning over I will whisper secrets in his ear. Of those, only he is allowed to sit in judgment. He will smile, moan, and respond to every inch of me and me to every centimeter of him.

He and I will come and come again all day. As we loose track of time between the sheets, down the hall, on the kitchen counter and back again. We will eat with, on and from each other. Laugh, giggle, sigh, bathe and speak. The world can go to hell in a hand basket, we are nesting in our own heavenly bubble.

We pray at each others altars, connect and rejoice. A week of “I don’t have time” and “yeah hold on” has finished. We start anew – connect; find each other again, charge our emotional batteries. Sure a quickie will occur on other days, and yes we will make love certainly … but the slow, all day in bed fucking, that is our lazy us time makes Sunday our relationship nuclear power plant.

We will re-etch our scents, the lines of our bodies, sounds, smells and dreams onto our hearts and minds. Trade new secrets and old, share fresh fears and battle ancient demons. All the while our hands will wonder, our nakedness will unite us and our backs will arch as we come, bathing us in glistening nectar.

In the end I will feel my soul come back to me as we lie together in the moonlight wrapped in a blanket of the woven threads of our Sunday.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

September 12, 2009 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, romance, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 39 Comments

Playing with Fire – Part I

Photography by Danniel Oickle

I have been called many things in life. Femme Fatal, Amazon, Package Deal, Nymphomaniac, Sex Goddess, Triple Threat… to mention just a few. All of them I take with a grain of salt or even wear the badge with pride. I am not ashamed of who I am, nor do I hide my voracious appetite. Even being called a “bitch with attitude” doesn’t bother me. After all, it can be true.

I love the curves of my body. I was once told I was like a white girl with a black woman’s ass. I have never forgotten that particular calling card. Trust a Cockney bouncer to come up with that one!

I had gone out after a long day and was having fun dancing. I recognize that many people go to clubs to hook up; most bars are meat markets. Not me. I go because I love to dance. I enjoy letting the music move me, love the way it feels like it’s caressing my body… I relish the abandonment, the escape. The energy I get from dancing is astonishing.

I had managed to keep men at bay all night, but walking to the bathroom an idiot grabbed my ass pinching it hard enough to bruise. “Oh how I would like to get into your panties” he garbled … I pulled away and threw over my shoulder some quip remark about one asshole being enough, thank you.

When I returned, I noticed a newcomer; there was something disarmingly honest about his face. A large, easy smile that made my own lips curl upwards. He happily talked to his friends, with the ease of a man sure of who he is and secure in his identity. Oh, yes… now he … he was yummy.

I insinuated myself between him and his buddies, leaning over to place an order with the bartender for a drink I didn’t really want. In the mirror behind all the bottles, I saw him look down at my derriere and give it an appreciative nod. Then, surprisingly, he locked eyes with me in the mirrors reflection – smiling. He knew. He knew I had targeted him and saw through my tactic. Only he was game. It was written all over him.

He leaned in whispering: “Should I be buying you that drink?” I shook my head no, took my beverage, downed it, walked three steps away, and put out my hand in a “come hither” gesture. His friends shouted a “no!” telling him that he’d be crazy to go. “She‘s hot man – women like that are bitches“. It was the only push he needed. Oh yes, I liked him more and more.

He followed me to the dance floor, where we let our bodies ride the musical waves together. He had rhythm, and knew how to move. Promising indeed. My arms languidly dropped around his shoulders and I could feel the heat rising between us. We kissed passionately, each comfortable in our own cockiness. Both aware of our charms and power over the other in that moment. Things were going to happen. We both knew it and both of us wanted it. We were playing with fire.

One friend of his in particular was irate. Feeling left out he kept trying to cut in or discourage the attraction. But we laughed it off. The more he and others disapproved, the more we enjoyed each other’s presence. Apparently neither one of us had quite outgrown our inner teenage rebel.

I needed some air and walked away – certain he would follow. He did not disappoint. I walked out of the club and he sauntered up next to me. We enjoyed the play of electricity between us as we walked up the street in silence to the outskirts of a park. There we kissed. Our lips brushed, our tongues mingled, and my hand squeezed his cock through his pants. I am strong, and not afraid to show it. He moaned into my mouth, pulled back and just smiled. It was time to take him home…

… Not my home. I took him to a friend’s house for which I have a key and an open invitation to let myself in at all times. A friend with some interesting décor choices.

I have never been a big fan of real, serious S&M. Nevertheless, like anyone that enjoys sexual adventure and collecting sexploits, it is of interest to skim the surface. This was that kind of love shack. I walked into the room, turned the lights on low thanks to a dimmer and asked him to strip. He seemed a little taken aback at the authority in my voice, but obeyed. I could see his eyes following the four walls of the room, his confidence slightly shaken. Not so sure now as he nervously eyed the large cross of steel on the wall with leather cuffs hanging from each extremity – not to mention the abundant collection of whips, knives and other paraphernalia.

I wanted to let him know that this was about mutual pleasure. I kneeled and kissed the length of his stiffening manhood with moist lips until it stood tall and straight before my face. Then flattening my tongue I gave it a broad, slow licking, back up the flared head. Finally, I opened wide and surrounded the pulsating rod with my sucking mouth.

I practically inhaled his cock with complete abandon. All traces of sophistication now gone. I was at present nothing more then a simple woman going insane over a gorgeous penis. Up and down … Up and down. My hands cupped and snuggled into the valley of his ass. He didn’t stand a chance. My index finger probed into his warm crack to find his asshole. Finding the mark, I followed the anal ring around and around. It felt too good for him to do anything but enjoy it. I let my finger dig inside the tight muscle and started exploring.

I sucked hard never breaking my steady rhythm. Finger dipping and twisting driving him crazy. I allowed the thick honey to erupt on my chest but I kept gouging with my index as lurch after involuntary lurch came from his hips. Nothing was coming out now; but to him it felt like it was… long after his climax usually ended. The finger was driving him, causing him to make jerk after jerk. Reading his body language, I knew the moment of pleasure had passed for now.

I slowly eased from the depths of his anus and he whispered, “wow…”.

The trap was set.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

May 11, 2009 Posted by | anal, erotica, Threesome, Tied Up, Voyeur | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments