Pillow Talk

Erotic Tales

Toy Chest Series – Size Matters?

Here is the thing. I have always liked to read a review for a product before purchase, but I must admit, sex toy reviews are rather predictable and boring (sorry!). Then my amazingly talented and fun fellow blogger Lexi sent me the name of a toy supplier looking for folks to review their products for free. The stars were aligned! So what to do? Do things the Fantasia way of course! The idea for the “Toy Chest Series” was born.

The stories are my take on product review. They are anecdotal re-tellings of how things unfolded. As per usual, some fiction is tossed in for good measure. The likes and dislikes will always be incorporated into the tale as well as an image of the product and where it was or can be purchased should you want to try it for yourself. The stories will sometimes be funny, and sometimes just plain hot.

Some of these toys I already own (wait for the We Vibe II!!) others are new (like this one). Please let me know what you think of this approach and if it‘s a project worth continuing!

Pillow Talk Press presents:

“Size Matters?” a Toy Chest Series tale

Walking to the post office armed with the mail delivery slip, she hoped The Adult Toy Shoppe had been honest when they said the package would be discreet. Trying not to blush ahead of time she handed the geeky teenage employee the little paper and waited.

The first surprise was the size of the box. For a moment she looked at her lover.

“Maybe it’s not what we thought Love ….” she signed for the package and while she was there took advantage and mailed off her tax returns.

He held the box reading the labels.

“It says bathroom accessories on the content list – you order something like that?”

She shook her head in the negative and as they left the office he ripped into the top of the box. She heard him whistle.

“What?” she asked.

All he did in response was let her peak inside for her second surprise.

“Holly fuck …” was all she could say.

“I think I am a tad intimidated at this point” he said laughing his big kid laugh before putting the box in the back seat of the car.

“There is no way in hell that’s going up my ass – or yours!” he added.

Originally the idea of getting the double sided 18” long and flexible dildo was to be able to have it inside her – and him – at the same time so they could fuck each other in mutual penetration. It seemed at this point that there had been a small miscalculation. Obviously she hadn’t looked at the pictures on the site properly to gage the enormity of “it“.

They drove around for the rest of the afternoon doing errands. Every now and then she’d open the box and take a look. “It” was huge. There really was no other way of putting it. Her Lover was grinning, and uncomfortable all at once. She had to admit to herself she felt the same way. She was a little excited and absolutely terrified at the damage the thing might be capable of.

“You are going to need some serious lube Hon” he kept repeating at seemingly random moments. Yes … yes she was.

Once home, they opened the clear plastic surround. The most annoying scent of rubber or plastic with what might be a hint of strawberries filled the room.

“Uh …yuck… you better wash that!”

Off he went. In the meantime, she got undressed and climbed into bed. She couldn’t even bring herself to masturbate – she lay there waiting for “it” to return. In a way they were almost clinical in the approach, that made her chuckle – she could visualize a bunch of scientists in their white coats scratching their heads.

“How do we insert that thing inside without ripping everything?” She burst out laughing.

Her nerves were shaky it would seem.  Her mind went from one thing to another and she found herself reminded of a time long ago when she had a one night stand with a man “hung” the same way. It had been a disappointing evening with him counting on his length and girth to do the job. It had left her sore and unsatisfied. She was suddenly filled with trepidation.

Her lover came back into the room, his half smile just that – a half smile. Why men felt that way when confronted with something – or someone – larger she could not understand. There was no way the cold toy could hold her, love her and be warm and “just so” the way he could. This was a toy, an extension of him – not competition. She hoped he’d see that – and soon.

Without much foreplay, the liquid silk was pulled out and liberally applied to toy and twat. Her fingers found her clit and on her back, legs up, ass up, she presented her delicate flower to him. He grinned now. He was convinced it would not fit, even after she told him that was nonsense that women’s cunts were designed to expand.

Sure enough, the damn thing slid right in. His eyes grew bigger.

“Ok .. That’s … woa … babe – that’s hot.” The site of her pussy stretching to accommodate the 1 ½ inches diameter was a thrill, he found himself getting erect. She watched him grin, and had to admit… the damn thing still smelled but it felt good. She could feel all the “ribbed for her pleasure” bumps and veins. She was aware of her cunt clasping down on it. It was tight, it filled her up.

“Hold on” she said and leaving it in, she flipped over. In what they called “downward dog” a sort of doggy style but with her face buried in the mattress or pillow, her hand snaked under where she let her fingers work her clit into a frenzy.

Her lover looked at the site before him.

Her round firm ass, her tender lips stretched to the max, and this long snaking pink dildo like an extra appendage just hanging there. He grabbed it. The extra length was indeed handy. Most dildo’s and vibrators are to short to really go to town, but this thing had room to spare. He wrapped both hands around it and leaving 8” inside of her he started a gentle come and go, bringing it almost out, then sliding it back in. He went on and on relentlessly.

“It’s cold … not like you” she moaned into the pillow. He pulled it out and, let himself slide in. He was surprised to find that it was still nice and tight, her cunt clasping at his dick in a most pleasing manner. She moaned in pleasure, but he pulled out and put the toy back in.

Her face in the soft cotton, she focused on the sensation of pleasure mounting inside of her. She could feel it – the orgasm was almost there, but he would change the rhythm ever so slightly and her release would hover just out of reach. More lube was applied and the back and forth went on, he worked her like a pro – wielding this saber like the best of Jedi’s.

It hit her hard. The moan so loud every other unit on their floor must of heard her come. He pushed it all the way in and let her muscles spasm all over it.

She collapsed to the bed.

“woa ….” was all she muttered.

He was hard and in need, she let him slide in and he felt good. His arms around her, the scruffiness of his unshaven face, the smell of his body next to hers. She felt loved, cherished as his breath caught. But he struggled to achieve orgasm. She wasn’t sure if it was the presence of “it” in the room or the fact that he’d already come twice earlier that day.

He flopped onto his back and she kissed him sweetly. She rose as she saw his hand reach for his dick. He started to masturbate in his most aggressive way. He was going to orgasm if he had to beat his cock into submission to do so. Lifting herself up she straddled then sat on his face.

He smelled her cunt, the smell of rubber or silicon or whatever “it” was made of. He tasted her but could not breath. Her open pussy engulfed his mouth and nose and she wasn’t moving. He could feel his lungs constricting, begging for air, his toes curled and just as he thought he might pass out his jism erupted out of him. At that moment she lifted herself off.

His orgasm was delicious as the air entered his lungs. He shivered, moaned and was spent.

She cleaned him up, and took the toy to the bathroom to wash it and let it soak then returned to her lovers side, curled up and the two dosed off in satisfied slumber.

© 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.

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March 28, 2010 Posted by | erotica, Lust, Toy CHest | , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Real World be Damned

What a horrid day. She walked the cold streets leading to her loft tired and beaten, feeling like it would have been best if she’d just stayed home, preferably in bed, and avoided the real world altogether.

Her boss had “lost it” in frustration over a project that had been stonewalled for political reasons and decided to take it out on her bandying about statements like “I can’t do everything you know” and “I am surrounded by idiots!” making her feel like she wasn’t pulling her weight, when she knew perfectly well she was. She had spent the day tip toeing around trying to either avoid him, or in some cases just deliver early on some smaller projects just to prove him wrong. In the end all she had managed to do was exhaust herself.

Then, the ex called and made a statement along the lines of them not seeing each other enough. Adding that he wanted to discuss where their relationship was going. A part of her didn’t understand the statement at all. No time to talk about us … what us? She had moved on and it was relatively obvious that they were headed for divorce. She couldn’t understand why this needed further discussion but hated that there was some veiled passive aggressive attempt to making her feel guilty. She had wondered if perhaps a lawyer might need to get involved sooner rather than later. She felt a pang of insensitivity towards the entire state of affairs. In all fairness to the man, he’d not seen this coming. That in itself was a massive issue between them, he had felt side swiped and she did regret that. She was also angry that he hadn’t heard her all those years when things could still be saved. Yes, she hated the entire thing. Good or bad – a loss was a loss. It was painful. For both of them.

As if that wasn’t enough, a cousin decided to finally vent a frustration that had been building up for years. The perspective had been totally different from hers. Although she could admit to some of the faults he had found in her behavior, his statements were over arching and unfair, so much so that she had fought back tears. Why did people feel that it was ok to vent via e-mail during work hours?

But who was she kidding? She’d done the same thing so many times. She supposed it was the entire captive audience approach. She made a mental note not to conduct herself that way in the future, as she kicked off her high heels and walked into the loft. Leaving behind her a trail of work garb she finally flopped down on the bed, indulging in a little self pity.

She had texted her Love to let him know. Giving him her emotional reaction as each event occurred. She felt terrible disturbing him. His high profile job was hard enough on him without some emotional girlfriend interrupting his day. Yet, she knew he’d be more offended if she didn’t. He had simply replied that she was obviously having a bad day, and that he was there for her if she needed him, for as long as she needed him. Wonderfully he did not offer to “fix” anything – only to be there – her strong shoulder to lean on. He had called to re-enforce the sentiment verbally and had met up with her for an afternoon coffee so she could vent a little.

She smiled. She admitted to herself that she did need him. Yes, she needed him and that was alright. She wasn‘t going to pretend to be tougher than she was. She wasn‘t going to pull some “feminist“ move and try dealing with it all on her own. No. She waited patiently for him to arrive, knowing that the moment his arms wrapped around her she’d feel safe and loved once again. She knew she had her failings, but somehow, his ability to see her faults and abnormalities as intriguing made life all the sweeter. She was strong, but with him she could break down, cry if need be and let her emotions loose. He was her safe haven.

She heard his unique footsteps in the hallway before the metal click of the keys in the door. Quietly he entered and put his things down, removed his shoes and without further delay came to find her on the bed. His face appropriately somber, he sat next to her and put his hand on hers. The floodgates opened and tears took over. Scooping her up like a child in his arms, he held her then. With him, and him alone, she wasn’t embarrassed to cry.

“Let it out love” were the only words he ushered. She did. After what seemed like forever but was likely only a few minutes he playfully swatted her bare ass.

“Now … what shall I make us for dinner – you hungry?”

She smiled. Damn she was lucky. He had likely had a long and grueling day – yet he was going to make them dinner and he had this habit of going about doing that in just his jeans or nothing at all. A habit she had no intention of breaking him from.

He started stripping off his work clothes. She stared at his body. The contours so familiar to her. Things about him she found unique and pleasing to her personal sense of esthetics. Not to mention comforting. He went to pull on his jeans when a whimper escaped her lips. He froze and looked at her … All she could do was, in a child like gesture, put out both arms and open and close her fists in a “I want I want” motion. He laughed and tossing his jeans aside, launched himself onto the bed with her.

She giggled as he tickled her, and his hands started their magnetic dance.

“That’s my resilient girl” he said with affection a half laugh still caught in his throat. One hand found a soft spot and the other tickled her side catching her in two places, one melting into him, the other squealing. Caught between woman and child.

His mouth silenced her. His soft and lush lips an unfailing pacifier. His hand lightly smoothed across the curves of her ass, and brought his fingers into hungry contact with the already flowing juices of her lower lips. She gasped and held his cock tightly as he kissed her neck. Her clit stood at attention, and he lightly pinched it.

She pushed forward driving her crotch against his cock, trying to mount the high-reaching shaft. She wanted to get lost, escape from it all, have her world reduced to this one space, filled with only him, and their intimacy. To have her universe pin pointed to one small spot of pure pleasure.

He pushed his cock-head into her slippery cunt. At first the hole resisted, then responded to give way, her body became erratic and started to wiggle under the pleasurable fill of his manhood. The wild abandon continued with feverish elevations until her legs tightened, she gasped for air, her fingers dug deeply into his flesh, pulling and urging his ass and thus him in deeper. Her cunt began to grip and spasm along the length of his driving hardness.

The feeling was more than he could handle, the burden of his semen threatened to pump out into the channels. He moaned as his deeply-imbedded cock grew hotter and finally they met, in a frenzy of mutually pleasurable climaxes.

A light grin on her face, she watched him clean up the “mess” and finally pull on his jeans. She felt better and was ready to dose off when her tummy grumbled in a most un-lady like way.

“So about dinner…”

© 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.

March 21, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, romance, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

Accidents Hap/pee/n

“STOP I’m going to pee my pants!” he doubled his efforts as she gasped for air between the laughter and moans. He loved her playful nature and tickling her was a favorite pass time. He knew not to abuse the game or it would lose its charm but every now and then, it just seemed like the right thing to do. This time she had been all warm and cuddly next to him on a lazy Sunday morning, her soft skin egging him on, and saying “Go on … you know you want to”. Yes, yes he did.

She had turned around and licked his nose like a puppy and then burst out laughing. That had been his Q. “Oh noooooooo!” was all she had managed to scream out in a giggly fit before he’d pounced on her, pinned her and let his fingers torture her. The neighbors must have thought they were gutting piglets with the squeals she let out.  He delighted in the sound of her abandon.  She was red, a smile so big on her face it was almost a grimace of pain. “Seriously stooooooooop”. He couldn’t – not this time.

Then suddenly she shoved him off, he stumbled, a little surprised at the forcefulness, as she jumped up… running to the bathroom… he followed.

She never made it to the toilet.

Flushing a deep scarlet red she stood there on the tiled floor of the white bathroom looking like she was ready to cry as a golden liquid pooled slowly at her feet like some expensive, honeyed, dessert wine.

He didn’t expect his immediate erection.

She was lovely in her distress. It had been so long since he’d seen her shy or embarrassed about anything with him and while he was rather fond of the comfort between them, he had missed this. A buzz of excitement hit his ears like a hornets’ nest. It paralyzed him a moment. Long enough to look at her, the red face, the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her hands twitched in her uncertainty of what to do. Then there was the rise of an eyebrow above an angry set of eyes. She was mad at him, embarrassed and yet she had not been able to avoid seeing his arousal.

She shivered and went to move to clean up.

“NO!” he shouted – sounding loud, dominating and arrogant; even to himself. 

She stopped … and trembled slightly.  He walked over grabbing a hand towel on the way, kneeling like a supplicant he cleaned up the wetness at her feet, along her ankles, thighs and then did the one thing she never saw coming.

With one hand he spread her tender nether lips apart and suckled.

Her clit was a little swollen; the taste and smell of urine invaded his nostrils. He moaned into her crotch.  She froze to a type of stillness that indicated real internal turmoil. He knew she thought of this as disgusting or at the very least unsanitary yet his, and now her own, arousal was sending her brain conflicting messages.  Because she didn’t know what to do – she chose to do nothing.

He slowly raised himself off the floor, possessively; hungrily he cocooned her in his arms. With his wet lips he kissed her. She tried to recoil but gave in. Breathlessly he picked her up, placed her on the edge of the vanity and rinsing the towel off with clean, clear water he proceeded to give her a sponge bath.

Between every wipe, he licked, caressed and tickled her. Soon her crimson flush turned from one of shame to excitement. She breathed in deeply after having held her breath so long, her shoulders relaxed and she leaned back on her elbows, spread her legs apart in a wide W and let him have his way with her.

He pulled her closer to the edge, and sitting on the toilet he played with her clit.  The ripe smell of the small cunt filled his head with a dizzying thrill as he drew his mouth close and kissed the moist lips and flicked his tongue deep inside.

He stabbed, twisted and rolled his tongue like a frantic snake until the pussy was crying excited juices.  Her body was throbbing with energy, lifting and shoving the mouthed cunt eagerly up to his buried head.  His tongue felt good.  It was scrubbing her inside with rapid strokes which hit in exactly the right places.  Her clit was about to explode, the walls of her steaming box were quivering with excitement, the pliable caress of the digging tongue sent her on to the very edge of orgasm.

She grabbed his hair, forcing him deeper into her crotch all her embarrassment long gone.  She felt his finger press, part and explore the fullness and heat of her vulva.  Then a sigh of relief escaped from her as she felt his digits dip and wiggle inside.

“Yes ….my love … yes, that’s it,” she whispered over and over.

She was ready. Without delay he stood up and grabbed her ass as he steadily plastered himself repeatedly in and out. 

“Oooh …” she sighed.

The flowing liquids foamed around his dick, the grate of his flared head inflamed further the tissues of her pussy as he slowly pulled up and almost all the way out over and over.  She was still young, hard, eager and willing; she took everything he could manage to shove inside her. His hips ground with animal abandon to the echoes of her gasps and moans.  They came furiously.  First him, a little early causing a struggle with the intense sensitivity of having her pump him further after he had emptied his load.  She finally threw her head far back, her toes curled and she screamed loudly filling the small bathroom with the sounds of her orgasm.

He relaxed between her legs a moment and reveled in the sweet embrace of her thighs.  The frantic nature of their fucking eased off and he slowly worked his cock in and out of the cream-smeared pussy until the hardness started to die away.  Then he withdrew it and heard her moan with disappointment.

“Can I clean up NOW?” she asked eyes full of mischief.

February 20, 2010 Posted by | Lust | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

The Red of Blood

If I was inclined to vampirism I would have an unfair advantage. No need for dental enhancements. These babies are real. Fangs. I have them and they are hard to miss although not distractingly obvious either. The irony of my ancestry is almost a cruel cliché.  Eastern European without any doubt, with the large almond blue eyes, high cheek bones, pale, smooth white skin and oval face with a slightly pointed chin.

The thing is, even without trying I have some tendencies that occasionally make me wonder if my father may have been right when he claimed a direct blood line to Vlad the Impaler. Charming ancestry indeed, but I can’t deny that I love to bite. I don’t mean a little nibble here and there. I am not talking a love bite … no. I mean full on, let my teeth sink into your flesh and leave a bruise. Claiming you like some animalistic temporary tattoo.

There is a wonderful French expression that translates to “Chase the natural and it will come galloping back”. It’s true. Psychologist claim that the desire to bite your partner has two components. One is female specific, that to bite with the mouth is a oral demonstration of what the cunt walls wish they were doing. Clamping down on the object of desire. The other is a form of territorial branding. When I read this all I could do was nod in ascent. What they don’t say is how good it feels when my lips part and I taste the smooth skin of my lover, and my tongue sweeps across his delicate flesh and I taste the salt of him and then my teeth place themselves carefully, my jaw clamps down, the most euphoric feeling is released into my body. Like a small adrenaline rush. It’s heady and intoxicating. The pathetic whimper that usually comes out of the man in question, on the other hand, isn’t.

That’s how I knew he was different.

I had been seeing him for a little while, we had finally kissed and moved on to heavy petting. Something I enjoyed tremendously since it had been a very long time and, in all honesty, it made me feel young again. Teenage-like even. It was wonderful. I had bitten him repeatedly. A few times almost drawing blood and his reaction was a deep growl of lust, a most extraordinary hardening of his manhood and hands that would grip and dig with flames of desire into my own flesh. The time had come – we both needed a day to explore each other in peace; so we planned it …carefully. Nothing over the top, nothing fancy – but we did book a motel room with a fireplace, neither one of us resisting the Hallmark corny romance of it. Coordinating our crazy schedules was half the battle but in the end we found the time and a safe and warm place to finally make love.

I woke up that morning with a headache from hell, and cramps that would cull the strongest in the herd. I was reminded of those slightly humorous adds of mother nature handing women a red box as a gift at the worst possible time and the women, using some brand of tampon, was alright and oblivious to the inconvenience. I had my period. Mine are brutally painful for 48 hours. I showered, managed to shave my legs, took 3 extra strength Advil and got in the car to meet him. I wasn’t sure what to do.

I turned the corner and saw him there. He looked up and quietly smiled as I parked the car and got out. His brooding face now ablaze with a tender smile and an intense light of pure desire emanating from his amber and hazel eyes. My heart sank at having to tell him that I really wasn’t going to be up for it. He saw my body language and immediately came over and wrapped his arms around me. Concern writ all over his handsome features. “Mon amour …. what is it?” his pleasant and comforting voice asked. I buried my face in his chest. “I am so sorry, but ………….” I couldn’t’ say it. He lifted my face up to his, saw how upset I was and would not move. “Just tell me – what can I do?”. Tears of frustration threatened and a sudden excruciating cramp causing terrible pain made me double over. He held me, now utterly taken aback and uncertain. I half laughed though clenched teeth… “You could rub my tummy and just hold me? … I ….ugh …. I have my period and…” I never finished my sentence as he swept me up in his arms and walked us into the hotel room after some interesting key maneuvers to get the door open whilst carrying my full weight.

He lay me on the bed.

Gently and carefully he undressed me except for my undies leaving the tampon and thick ugly pad out of site. I was grateful. He then tucked me under the covers, kissed me on the forehead and caressed my cheek longingly and walked away to turn on the fireplace and to make a cup of tea. I snuggled in the sea of pure white pillows as my aching body relaxed. I dozed a short time and woke up in a dream like state. I grinned at the feel of his naked body against mine under the sheets and his breath in my neck. His hands ever so slowly making tiny little circles on my stomach. I turned to lay on my back and look at him. He never stopped making the little circles. He had taken the “you can rub my tummy” very literally it seemed. I was happy to let him. It was simply nice to be naked together. He leaned in and kissed me tenderly. His hand now explored the contours of my body. He looked at and was mesmerized by every inch of me.

He sucked my toes, murmured at how perfect my tiny ankles are, described and let his lips glide the length of the long expanse of my legs, paying attention to the delicate and sensitive skin behind my knees. He kissed my stomach, rolled me over on my side and caressed my ass. His breath held a long moment as he gazed at it stretching the cotton of my panties and let it go when he came in for a kiss and a bite of his own. He followed the vertebrae of my spine, let his fingers linger at the small of my neck. As I relaxed even more into his caress, it hit me that this man had managed to make me feel sensual on the worst possible day. The hurt was still there but every time my body tensed his hand would find some spot to massage and it would pass.

I found my body letting go of the pain. I opened up to him and breathed deeply and started to discover his body visually and then, my fingers started their own exploration. His hard athletic build, his beautiful ass that made me want to dry hump him, strong yet slender legs and his erect and beautiful spike. It stood there. Without a doubt, he was painfully aroused.

Shockingly, I found myself getting excited.

We had ended up switching positions as he now lay on his back. I straddled him and let my mouth, tongue, teeth and fingers explore him. His scent filled my nose. Like a blood hound I smelled him engraving his unique fragrance to my memory bank. I stooped and watched as the thick vein in his neck pulsed with the beating of his heart. His hands at his side he left himself completely open to my gaze and my hunger for him. I let the tip of my nose follow the curve of his jaw, then to the soft spot below the earlobe. My tongue danced and followed the pulsing track until I couldn’t take it any longer and I bit him, hard. His hands grabbed my hips and pushed me down. Even through the padding I felt his hard shaft increase in heat. He moaned and gasped for air. My face in his neck I followed the tiny trail still and bit again, this time my hand on his face, as his mouth opened to groan again I let two fingers slide deep into his mouth and down his throat.

He fought the gag reflex and arched his back into me with violent passion. I bit again and let my fingers slide out and heard his hiss in my ear. My wet fingers found his nose that I pinched closed and I came up to kiss his mouth… his mouth and lips made for the battle of love play. I held the embrace until his chest opened up in an attempt to draw air that failed. His Adams apple dances furiously. I let go and he breathed a deep chattering breath. Never did he display fear. He was hard, he was hot and he wanted more.

I continued our play, alternating between gagging, biting and suffocating him gently. I could not believe how much hotter and harder his member was becoming, and I worried that if he didn’t have release soon things would go beyond rough play to actual pain. I wrapped my lips around his shaft and he gripped the sheets so hard he nearly ripped them. From that lower vantage point I looked up at the sight before me. And saw that as I had wiggled my way down from straddling his chest, to his hips, to his thighs to my current position I had left a trail.

A trail of bright crimson red blood.

I froze. My stillness must have gotten him out of his stupor a moment as he lifted his head and looked down at me. I held my breath. I had bled through, and the white sheets now looked like some violent act of crime had been committed. He looked at his chest, let his finger slide on the blood and then …. He smiled. A big, thrilled and excited smile. My heart leaped. He sat up, grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the shower.

Turning the hot water on, we stepped under the stream and a blanket of steam embraced us. I took off my now drenched undies and tossed them out of sight. One leg lifted up on the ledge, he found the little white string, and pulled removing the now engorged and useless tampon. I had never believed such an act could be so utterly erotic. It was. There under the water, blood was washed away, and I kneeled down to continue to apply lavish attention on his member. Fingering myself I was startled to see that the moisture on my fingers was not blood…. But lubrication. I was beyond horny. I was in love.

Pushing me up against the shower wall, he spread my legs apart and went down on me. “No … you don’t have to …” his gaze told me all I needed to know. He wanted to. I didn’t fight it then. “It comes from you. And you are beautiful … relax …” I did. My body forgot about pain, discomfort and I let go of preconceived notions of what was right or wrong or clean or not. His head between my thighs, his tongue on my clit I let the hot water and rush of orgasm flood and wash over me. My knees buckled and he held me up. Wrapping me in a big towel. He turned the shower off and led me back to the bed.

It was his turn.

I tried not to feel embarrassed at the blood on the sheets. Nor at the small drop of blood trailing down my inner thigh. He was going to have his way with me and there was little I could – or wanted – to do about it. Towel on the bed, I climbed up and in doggy position, offered him my rear. His shaft was hard to the point of pain, his balls full and his desire real. He let his hands roam on my ass a few times as I relaxed into his touch again and then … he took me.

His shaft entered slowly at first. He watched as he impaled me and then pulled out. The sight of blood covering his manhood drove him nearly over the edge right then. It was primal. Intense. Like taking my virginity but not. He plunged in again and the blood trickled down towards his balls. Leaning on my shoulder I brought a hand up to play and tease my clit. Blood pooling a little in the palm of my hand. I felt it then. Our orgasm. We were coming and we were coming hard. He lunged, I quivered, he pulled I moaned. The walls clasped, his cock pulsed and the jism flowed pink as he screamed in tandem with me and we collapsed in sheer ecstasy on the white towel.

I realized that moment that he was not like any other lover I had ever had.

October 27, 2009 Posted by | erotica | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 46 Comments

Le Manoir

THE CHALLENGE IS CLOSED!!!!

I was asked to break the tie. This was really really really difficult. First of all – I loved all entries. To add to the “problem” the one that would have gotten my vote without having to be a tie breaker was NOT one of the three (fun that! and I am NOT telling!) so I was left trying to figure out – How … HOW to choose??

But we have a WINNER! My vote goes to …

Silia!!

Why? At first I was going with Sir Anneal. After all I did ask for the darkest deepest not vanilla fantasy. But I know the man a tad and I’ve been to his site and … well… for Him this isn’t dark. In fact for him vanilla would have been!

Then WGB. I loved the way it was up-beat and fun and a fantasy of my own too! The Go-Go boots alone almost got my vote. But perhaps it was not dark enough a fantasy. After all – she’s BAD!!! Go to her site and you’ll see what I mean!

Silia. I know her a tad too – we did collaborate on a story together after all.  She’s more refrained and demure than most of you that visit me here. The fact that her and Thorn always visit together is fun – but he’s always more “out there” than she is. I found that for her – this fantasy must indeed fall in line with a darker “secret” side. And THAT was the point of the challenge. So I vote for her.

Silia … get in touch with me to organise your prize! and CONGRATS!!

****

It’s a three way tie!!! On the surface Silia was a clear winner with WGB just up the … well a close close shave indeed! BUT …

Things are not as they appear! those “comment” votes really count! not to mention a few silent votes sent to my inbox directly.

So … now what?

WGB, Sir Anneal and Silia … I can break the tie for you …. or you split the prize (The highest hits for this story is the amount – the prize is $219).

What would you prefer?

****

Readers: Go here for the details of this Challenge. Please make sure you enter a vote on the poll at the end of the post. If you comment, please state the writer to whom the comment applies.  

Basically you can cast 2 votes! 1)  with the poll 2) with a comment for your favorite entry.  You can split your votes up or double them for the same author! up to you!  The comments can break a tie!

May the best man or woman win!!

****
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.

***
Panser Bjorn “Good gods, isn’t there anyone else here who’s willing to man up?” I growled into the stillness. Only more stillness in reply.

Shaking my head, I pushed away from the wall where I’d been leaning, whiskey glass in hand. “Are you people frightened to admit you’ve urges of your own?” I raked the crowd, still silent, with a scathingly contemptuous glare. “Our lovely hostess, the Duchess Lillith” – here I nodded at Fantasia graciously, and put a hand to the brim of my gray fedora in salute – “has seen fit to share herself with us, most deeply and revealingly. I would be remiss if I failed to answer her query.”

I strode forward, making my way through the tiny groups of people who still seemed dumbstruck by the things they’d heard. Downing the last of the whiskey, I set the glass on the tray still held aloft by Fantasia’s little house pet and came to a stop in front of the fireplace, and Fantasia. She was amused, I could see it in the tiny quirk of her lips, but she was also wondering what I might have to say for myself.

I tilted my hat at a slightly more rakish angle. Turning to face the room, I adjusted my double-breasted charcoal suit and burgundy tie. “I won’t waste time with introductions,” I began. “You know me, my fastidious nature, my taste for the finer things, the delicate and refined. So it may surprise you to hear that my own darkest fantasies involve the Beast that lies at the core of every man.”

I reached out to caress the cheek of a stunning Nordic blonde nearby. “The Beast is that part of me that wants to defile something pure and virtuous,” I continued. “To take an ice maiden such as this and possess her utterly. Invade her, take her ruthlessly and roughly, use her for my own pleasure.” The blonde shivered but my gaze held her captive. “To call her what she longs to be in her own little black heart – a filthy little slut who can’t get enough.”

Abruptly I broke eye contact and turned on my heel. “And then to leave her behind without a word of thanks or regret; I’ve taken what I wanted from her, after all.”

I glanced around, grinning wolfishly. “So. Who’s next?”

****
I saw her then, my dearest protégé, peal herself exquisitely from the wall to my left. The wall almost wept at loosing the contact with her, like a lover reluctantly letting go of an embrace. Oh, I had chosen well.

****
ukroadrunner: A girl of maybe 19 years makes her way to the front. She has a fair complexion, long auburn hair, and bright green eyes almost feline in their clarity. Her lips rosy and moist. Her soft curves are hidden by the single expanse of emerald green silk tied in a halter neck with an amber clasp.

She is athletic, slim, and long shapely legs support her supple frame. Her arms are slender but proportionate, unlike many of her young years who often resemble yearlings; limbs out of keeping with their developing bodies. She is elegant and holds herself with poise.

Despite the almost religious following both sexes give the Duchess, eyes from both begin to follow her around the room. Some recall recent events that had raised an eyebrow and more besides, from some members. Some recall her boundless energy, her erotic appetite, and an ability to bring out literally the best in all she is with.

She speaks with a polished English Home Counties accent and makes eye contact with her patron.

“Ma’am, I hope you, as well the others, will not consider it improper for one so young as I to venture my own fantasy into the discussion. My youth means, given the right circumstances, many of my fantasies may be fulfilled. I look forward to doing so within this very room and involving many of you.” She looks about the room smiling before returning to her hostess.

“There is one fantasy that I often dream and which makes me startle awake, leaving me breathless. In my fantasy I find myself entwined in naked passion with another whose beauty and sensuality is divine. Your guests watch as mouths and bodies repeatedly enjoy and taste of the others in a series of climax that leave us finally spent just as the dawn breaks across the eastern sky. During our encounter some of those watching, including many listening now, are so aroused that they can not hold back and find themselves touching and playing with their own bodies or of those standing and watching close by. As we have licked and sucked each other, the experience has been enhanced by their love juices that we have savored from the other’s body. In my fantasy the other person is none other than you, ma’am.”

****
I lean over, raising her delicate chin and place my lips on hers … such a simple fantasy, not so dark for those of us with more years. She shivers and I let my hand caress her breasts. Her eyes are luminescent. “Easily done beautiful one …. Perhaps sooner rather than later… yes?” I ask the room. The faces and expressions in response is like observing a pack of hungry wolves.

****
“How does a dream become a nightmare,” Smokedawg begins, “and how do those nightmares transform into something erotic, and then snare one’s mind?”

I catch the eyes of the many extravagantly arrayed women in the room, then those of a few of the men and finally the Duchess herself, who nodded in assent. Or perhaps support. Or maybe sympathy.

Loosening the neck of my silk shirt, I run my fingers down the leather lapels of my brocaded greatcoat.

“I have known many women. Taken them. Tasted them,” I said. “Playthings all.”

“I dreamed a year ago of a former lover, who spat in my face. A mild enough dream. Then a fortnight later, another who did the same. Two days after that, it took the flavor of a nightmare, as a maiden I had spitefully seduced tied me to a tree and spat in my open mouth as she ridiculed and struck me.”

“Three months later, my dreamtime lovers were kissing me, their mouths filled with spit, flowing over their lips and over my own and down my beard. And all the time, my cock as hard as jasper.”

“Four months ago, a more profound version of the dream took me awake, like a vision. The Countess Hermione D’Artur was there, wearing only satin gloves, smoking a cherry-scented cheroot and blowing her smoke extravagantly into my face, then into my mouth, sharing with me a most exquisite and fiery communion with her kiss. And then she forced to my knees, beneath the umbrella of her smoke, and motioned others to stand over me.”

“Every single woman I had ever lain with. They took their turns spitting upon me. One after another. Over and over. Some of them expelling staggering volumes of warm, slick saliva.”

“Minute upon minute of this, perhaps an hour, until I was dripping with their juices. Spit running down my naked back, between the cheeks of my ass, over my balls and cock, over my face and lips and into my mouth. Their spit baptized me, coated me, pooled beneath me in a warm and deep puddle until I sank down into it, pressed my manhood and face into it, and humped their moist disdain for me. As their hands stroked me, and pressed me more surely into the slick heat of it. Until I came, crying out for more, begging them to do it again.”

****
Wifegonebad “Excuse me, Duchess, I’d love to share a fantasy with everyone, but I’m having a difficult time thinking of something I wouldn’t do.” I said with complete earnestness, as the eye-rolling and snorts spread around the room I was fairly new to Le Manoire, and rather quiet, so no one had me pegged yet. I squirmed and pulled at the hem of my Gucci orange and red mini-dress and could feel the perspiration roll into my white leather Go-Go boots.

“Hush everyone,” demanded the Duchess. “Please continue.” I nod my thanks to her, take a deep breath, and begin.

“My Master comes up behind me in the kitchen and puts a blindfold over my eyes, clicks a leash onto my collar, and leads me on all fours through several rooms until we reach the library. Logs are burning in the fireplace, and I can smell cigarettes, and the hear the tinkling of ice in hi-ball glasses.

He pulls me up by my collar and lightly strokes my cheek and kisses me gently. He lays me down onto a narrow table and spreads my legs. I hear murmurs around the room and zippers being undone. Suddenly, a man begins rubbing the tip of his cock against my lips forcing them open, two men put their cocks in my hands, and another is putting my legs over his shoulders as he massages my clit with his rod. I am surprised when he pushes against my rosebud and shoves his way in. I release the cock from my mouth and yell, my Master comes to me, kisses my lips, and tells me that I’m being very, very good. I relax so that when the man enters me again the pain quickly turns into pleasure as he rides me hard. I begin again to suck and stroke cocks and their moans empower me. One man comes in my mouth, the others on my tits and face, and the man pounding my ass, fills me full. I’m trembling all over. More zippers are unzipped, some men move away, or change positions, and we begin again.”

I look down at my hands shaking in my lap, afraid to look anyone in the eyes, and there is silence in the room until the Duchess breaks it, “Well, my dear, how energetic of you,” and gives me a sly, approving, glance.

****
A voice just starts talking. Almost as if to himself, in the middle of the now rather loud din of whispers as guests talk and try to decide if they too want to share. But a silence starts to hover and the words start to be heard … a rambling of sorts.

****
Shangol 1969: The duchess has her usual suspects pecking at her body and Jasmine is servicing and being serviced. I want something different tonight. There she is, a petite little Arcadian blonde all alone. She is peaking around the room, shyly. She wants to see it all. I stand her up and take off her clothes as I kiss her softly. She is stark naked now and I rub my hand in between her legs. The inside of her thigh is wet with her essence and I can’t resist. I leave her standing so she can see the activities in the room and I kneel and clean off her inner thigh softly. I move up and am invited by the perfect little pink ass to suck and lick it. She moans and spreads her legs. I turn her around and bend her over the chaise we are on. I begin to suck her pussy and start to concentrate on her clit. She is being very passionate and starts talking in a familiar tone to a man in Cajun. He speaks back to her gently and walks behinds her and slips his cock inside her. He is dangerously close to me but I am compelled to stay to make her feel good. I can smell him and his balls are hitting my face as I suck and lick her. I tickle his balls for him. Her moans are muzzled now. Something is keeping her mouth occupied. Her copulate is moaning and his balls are raised and he is all the way in her. I suck a little softer and enhance her sensation and she comes as well. He slips out of her and with it comes his load all over her pussy. I unknowingly lick it up and realize I like it? I clean her off and tongue-fuck her to suck out every drop. I look up and she has a cock releasing into her mouth and it is leaking out. I kiss her when he is done and clean up the mess. I am so hard my cock slips into her like it had a mind of its own. She feels so tight and soft. Her kisses are burning and impression into my soul. She is so sensual and free. She is a goddess. I let loose and fill her up and clean her up. I am on to something new for myself. I then go around the room and try to fuck and suck every cum filled pussy dry.

****
There is a silent applause as people appreciate the mind that has rambled, some of us finally breathing and still reeling from the speed of the delivery, attempting to fit all the images together….

I saw Thorn move with purpose towards the center of the room. His beloved Silia dropping her hand from his with regret. The two were inseparable. In fact, although they would at times watch, they never slept with anyone else. They somehow managed to be faithful amongst us all. There was a sense of the “sacred” between them that no one dared encroach upon. He cleared his voice and the pleasant deep resonant of it filled the room.

“Oh damn it this is too hard. Is it normal that I have no kinky fantasies, really? Should I see a shrink?” he smiled, ” … a day dream is the best I can do…”

****
Thorn: I crash-land on a Pacific island. I have turned wild relying on what the jungle and the sea provided me with to survive. Nature sculpted my naked body to perfection. Being free all day and my toy at night my cock had grown in length and girth. I have become a master of the fine art of self pleasing. I came at will or delayed my orgasm indefinitely. I could hold an erection for hours and ejaculate several times. My own record, engraved on the trunk of a coconut tree, was 17 times from sunset to sunrise.

When I saw the small drifting boat my cock reacted first. I made “him” a promise. He can fuck whoever was onboard as long as they were alive. I swam the mile distance and climbed on board to find two women on the verge of dehydration.

I brought the battered craft to the beach. I carried the taller black woman first and laid her on the sand. Feeling her in my arms brought my penis to full erection but I ordered him to quiet down. He obeyed, knowing well that I never break a promise. Then I tossed the blonde over my shoulder and placed her alongside. I have developed an acute sense of smell and the scent of their pussies assaulted me like an uncontrollable avalanche.

I took care of them for 2 consecutive nights and days. For the first time on this island I didn’t jerk off for over 48 hours. My balls were fuller than a pair of coconuts. I could fuck a whole tribe of women.

The two lesbians stared at my cock and their pussies glistened with moistness whenever I was near. On the third night the moon was full. I hunted a wild goat and asked them to eat, “You need all your strength tonight”, I said, “I’m going to fuck you till morning”.

For desert I ate the black beauty’s pussy while I fucked the blonde for an hour. She passed out after her sixth orgasm and my fourth. I put her to rest and penetrated the perfect black ass, all ten inches slowly disappearing inside. I filled her mouth, ass and pussy with cum endlessly. I repeated my awe inspiring act with the blonde as necessary.

While they rested with the crack of dawn, I engraved a new entry. Thirty fucking times.

****
He returned to Silia’s side. She leaned in to whisper something in his ear… once again the two were in their bubble.

I smile a moment as I recall the private conversation with my most elusive guest. The “Pokeroo” among us. The one that I know exists but no one else has met. People want to, he is especially sought after by all the “Barbie dolls” in the house … LeviStore … reclusive is an understatement.

I had talked to him about what I had planned and he’d sent me his response. Oh yes, sweetly delivered by the quivering lips of a fine young lad that reminded me a great deal of a young “Malboro Man”. He had recited his message perfectly … with a slight tremble in his voice from time to time. I shared it with my guests – asking the young man to step out and recite anew.

****
I think about my invite to The Salon all day.. and it totally consumes
me with lust to know that this wanton wayward hostess has invited me..
But on the other hand im irritated.. Being of a modern day Greek
family im fully aware of the complexity of the way intelligent people
get together to chat about mindless things.. and I certainly do not
have the time for that..
But the hostess intrigues me.. And I put a master plan together..
My plan is simple.. I arrive at the The Salon over an hour early..
Its all quiet..
I step out of my Beemer and lean on the bonnet.. I have no intention
of walkin up the steps of the venue.. I light up a Camel plain.. And
wait..
Im dressed in a simple striped Italian shirt and Levi jeans.. three of
the buttons of the fly are undone..
It starts getting dark.. the hostess walks seductively down the steps
towards my car.. Its dark enough to be discreet..
I dont even bother standing up.. Im hard.. and it can be seen through
the Levi jeans..
She arrives.. we make eye contact.. I reach out and take her sensual
hand.. and guide it to my un buttoned jeans.. she continues.. and
follows through.. my cock firmly in her hand.. she proceeds to stroke,
then goes down to suck it..
My game plan is sound, I dont warn her that im gettin close.. My
energy is internal.. and I quietly erupt into her mouth as she
swallows urgently in order to keep her lovely evening dress clean..
I kiss her warmly.. only once.. Then leave in my Beemer without sayin a word..
Each word she utters on this mystical evening will be uttered with the
essence of my being..
And the guests at The Salon would not even have met me..

****
The room laughed, some shook their head … I knew the rumor – that he was a figment of my imagination. Ah well … I had done my part.

****

Silia has been sitting quietly all evening beside Thorn, observing all the rest but saying nothing. She is dressed demurely in an ankle length black velvet dress. It quietly shows every curve and the white skin of her bosom and shoulders. Her dark hair is pulled back and to one side, tumbling down around her neck and over one shoulder. Finally, during a lull in the conversation, she rises from her seat but remains with Thorn. She decides to speak taking a few by surprise.

“I’ve never thought of myself as an exhibitionist. I mean, I have never bared my body in public – except for maybe a skinny dip in a less than secluded location. But I would hardly call that exhibitionism. Maybe we all have it in us – just a little. But in everyday life, I’m quite the opposite. In face, I won’t undress in my own bedroom unless the curtains are drawn tightly. Perhaps that is why this fantasy holds such “appeal” to me but also, and ultimately, seems so perverse.

It’s a showcase, an exhibit, but instead of art or antiquities on display, its naked bodies of women and men. This is not a sex show. This is more…educational…if you will. I am one of the “objets” laid out on my back on a raised platform. My erect nipples point to the ceiling and my legs spread apart to reveal all. There are no barriers between the displays and the observers. The observers are welcome, even encouraged to touch, squeeze, insert. The only rule for these observers are that they cannot perform sexual acts with the displays. The rule for the displays is more stringent. They cannot move no matter how they are touched, and particularly if they orgasm. They must remain motionless and quiet like fleshy statues. I end up with many hands over and in all parts of me and fight with everything in me to stay still.”

****

Silia quietly resumed sitting. She smiled somewhat shyly at Thorn as he took her face in his hand and they exchanged knowing glances.

I heard the large door open and I shivered and smiled at the same time. “Ah, Sir Anneal, you have come!” I clapped in delight as I took a few steps to welcome him.

****

Sir Anneal: I notice that this place has a unique feel to it as W/we enter the waiting area. Clean and precise, everything in its place and a place for everything. Perfect to show off, and present My gift for this evening’s gathering, and it’s hostess.

I nod to acknowledge you dear, and I smile as I’ve shared with you briefly what had been done over the last Five months to prepare My present for the gathering. O/our late arrival has it’s purpose. I’m wearing a simple Grey pinstripe suit and tie…the Three piece variety. Following Me is the utensil. Long flowing Silver silk robe…hooded with sleeves long to cover hands and her face concealed. she makes no sound. Acknowledges no one. she is leashed and follows Me by what you and the other early guests can only assume is a silver collar and leash under the robe as I lead her in.

I walk her over to the ring I asked you to have installed in the far wall, and with a click the utensil is locked facing it by her neck

“darling… so good to see you, and thank you for the invitation to the salon” It has taken many months of preparation to get her here for your guests tonight. I would ask that you inform everyone that she is still healing in some areas and attachment points. Please have them be mind full of this. Other than that request…Utensil is available for any use your guests may desire. I can tell you that she is willing, and totally open to the idea. she requested the unique modifications to her body, and will be this way for the remainder of her life. Let Me prepare her now for your party…

I walk over to the Silver cape….and in One swift move pull away the covering.

A collected gasp from the guests in the room as modifications are exposed. Women cover their mouths, and Men raise eyebrows at the vision in front of them. Now revealed for every one’s use is a naked woman…with a collar not separate from her neck, but surgically attached to her collar bones. Stainless steel rings seem to grow out from each wrist….and from each ankle bone. A mouth held shut with a stainless padlock and ring set…and upon further examination are also seen to actually protrude out from under the skin.

As I remove her mouth locks she instinctively knows to put her wrists behind her back, and move her feet close together. Now with stainless locked in place I turn to you..

You see darling…with today’s medical advancements in artificial joints and such, the attachment of the stainless steel to bone is quite easy to do, but for the bone to take, and the skin to heal around it permanently THAT is time consuming. One healed …quite effective though

Please…enjoy her

And as Sir Anneal leaves the party…

I toss you the keys……

October 11, 2009 Posted by | erotica | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 55 Comments

The Twinkle In His Eyes

I see him out of the corner of my eye, sitting in a chair in the darkest recess of the room, far enough to not encroach on our personal space. The few meters remind me of some sort of cruel social distancing rule. His pants are in a puddle at his feet; his shirt open, his breath is carefully monitored as his hand grips his cock in a death like choke hold.

I know he can see me there on all fours. Like some bitch in heat. In a way I am. I’m always ready for my man. Something about my Love has me in a constant state of arousal. Our Voyeur has eyes that see. He is watching as my Lover glides effortlessly inside, as my breasts sway from side to side with the rhythm of our play. I can see him appreciate the scene unfolding before him.

My Lover wants to turn me over. I am happy to oblige. He grabs my ass cheeks and my right leg gracefully sweeps around his hip. The muscles in my calf flex and I know our Watcher is observing every move; I point my toes like a dancer as I ride closer to pleasure.

The Voyeur’s hand is stroking his cock now dripping with precum, and murmuring to me under his breath, barely audible but enough for my head to snap out of my dream state and look at him. His eyes are glistening with volumes of pent up desire and my eyes focus on his hand. He asks me if I want it. I laugh internally – why did the fool think he was here? Had he really planned on staying out of it and just watch?

I open my mouth slowly, let my lips part and my white teeth peek through. Half off the bed, I am on my back, my breasts are high and my nipples’ pointing to the ceiling, my Lover is steady and perfectly bringing me to the edge of the abyss. My tongue wets my lips and I open my mouth again. I reach a hand over in the Voyeurs general direction … almost pointing to the cock he is mock waving at me.

I hear my Lover burst out laughing and for a moment the sensuality is lost as we all chuckle. Our guest is suddenly embarrassed. Not for himself but for breaking the code. He interrupted the moment, broke our concentration and the flow. It doesn’t last long, as my Love, still buried deep within me, takes my hair and turns my head towards our guest as he kisses, then bites my neck hard. The sharp and sudden pain is a sweet thrill that makes me gasp. In that moment our invitee breaks his own rules, and slips his cock between my parted, plump lips.

It’s all very fluid and unreal as he fucks me and I mouth fuck him and I grip my love with one hand and our Voyeur with the other. Bodies, fantasies, taboos and time are suspended. I feel the ache of desire pulse deep inside. My eyes close, I breathe with short gasps with a shaft in my mouth to cater to. The feeling of bliss is coming from the work of my Lovers well behaved cock causing the trembling walls of my cunt to hum in a pleasing frenzy. His strong arms and solid body thrill me; the hard muscles of his well-developed thighs feel wonderful against the smoothness of my own legs.

My whole being is swimming under the assaults. The forbidden is such a naughty turn on. I jolt high up hard against the driving rod to welcome it. The cocks are hitting deep as they start to dance out of control, bucking fiercely, plunging my body toward a climax. But I wait. I wait …. wait.

Finally the jizm rises like a phoenix and the screaming members and roaring throats explode in a sea of hot sand and fill the bucking cavity of my cunt and throat. It comes in explosive surges causing my body to rock from head to toe, boiling, steaming eruptions of frothing cream to wet and paint my insides. Soothed at last.

Opening my eyes to the clap of thunder, I roll toward my love grabbing his cock between my naked thighs before he is fully awake. “I just had the most amazing dream“I tell him. The twinkle in his eyes as he turns his head to look at me makes me wonder momentarily.

September 25, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments