Pillow Talk

Erotic Tales

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.

Advertisements

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

Let’s Play…

Many moons ago, one of my readers asked me what she could do for “fun” with her long distance boyfriend. I suggested writing an erotic story back and forth between them – using e-mail or even texting. I wrote this to illustrate. The story flips from my perspective to his (thank you for  playing).

The real fun in this activity is the utter surprise … where will the story go?!

Hope you enjoy the process as much as I did and perhaps feel inspired to do the same. Let me know! and maybe share!

(The idea came from the collaboration between two of my favorite writers/bloggers you can read that here)

***

Enjoying the first beautiful days of summer we walked the streets for some outdoor cafe to sit at and have some lunch.

I am potentially over dressed. Then again, I am of the firm belief that a woman can never be too classy. There’s just no excuse for bad taste and no way out of the predicament, so you are best not to ever go there. Know exactly how dressed up, or dressed funky, you can get away with at any given time.

I push the limits. I am a bad girl that way. Panties are oft forgotten. He likes me accessible. If panties are worn, they are most likely thongs and announced to friends at completely inappropriate times – it‘s my one gauche habit. I just don’t go quietly, but He knows that and loves the challenge.

Leaning over towards me at the tiny table we occupy along the street, His hand goes up my thigh hidden only by my pencil skirt and table-cloth, reaches my intimate self and lets his fingers play along my glossy engorged slit. I might drown him, and I try to effortlessly spread my thighs to give him better access. He grinds his palm against my clit, his fingers finding their way through my folds and into my body. I lean my head back in pre-orgasmic lust.

He motions with his head to have me go down. I descend under the table to suckle and gorge on my pre-lunch delight.

*

I could hear the nearby diners gasp, just as I did, when my beloved’s lips wrapped around my shaft. She’d unzipped me and told me in no uncertain terms that she was going to suck me – and I had no doubt she meant it. There was the sound of her slurping, my moans and the waitress stuttering as she took the adjacent table’s order. I only vaguely heard it all as I treasured the way my love took me deeply, using her tongue expertly on the underside of my cock and tickling my balls with it when my shaft head reached the back of her throat. We fit so perfectly. I knew … we both knew… I wouldn’t last long.

An attractive couple at the next table could not take their eyes off us and were obviously pleased with our antics. I lifted the table-cloth carefully to give them, and only them, a better view. My fingers in her hair, I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of her hands cradling my balls. My toes curled in my shoes and I gritted my teeth, while she sucked me in a final time.

Our neighboring diners sat up in their chairs, as if they had orgasms themselves, and they spoke to each other in hushed voices. I looked at them and acknowledged their reactions; approval or disapproval depending on the individual. It was fascinating to see who was in fact offended and who was not. Not to mention those with flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, that feigned disapproval out of fear of judgment.

No one had actually “seen” anything and for all they knew it was just an act for some hidden camera; but as she cleaned me up, I took my wallet from my coat pocket and called for the waitress to settle the bill. She came quickly, without making eye contact.

My beloved took her seat, and another sip of her wine, I paid the bill before standing to leave. I should have put away my cock first, but I forgot and a few shocked faces told me they had gotten a good look at my glistening shaft before I finally tucked it away. Now we really did have to leave.

Where should we go for dessert?

*

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see the attractive blond and her equally blond partner looking at me a question on her lips. His arm encircled my waist in a protective manner, but still relaxed, Just setting boundaries. I giggle internally. Precious man had nothing to worry about and he knew it. He just wanted others to know it as well.

A surprisingly sultry voice emanated from the petite blonds lips as she asked us if we’d care to join them for a drink and perhaps some sweets at their place not to too far. I turn to my man, a grin on my face and an eyebrow raised in askance but leaving the decision up to him. He’d talked about this more than once – the opportunity was ideal. The couple was attractive and eager and my mood was naughty very, very naughty. Was He all talk?

His hand slid from my waist to below my skirt and squeezed my ass …. He leaned into my ear and whispered:

*

…. Let’s play.

She needed no greater invitation and accepted the offer for both of us. I always knew that given the right opportunity, and mood, our fantasy would come to fruition. I immediately began to wonder what we would do, what our new friends would like to share with us. I wondered what this woman, whose name I soon learned was Helene, would taste like and if she was hairless like my love. I felt a new stir in my loins. I wondered how much my beloved would enjoy the look on my face as I watched another man enter her from behind. Of course, for all I knew, this couple only wanted to return the favor and let us watch them together. The possibilities were endless, and the short five-minute walk to their loft seemed to take an hour.

By the time we reached their front step, my cock was standing at attention once again. As we were about to walk in the door, I stopped and pulled my love to me. “No turning back from here. Are you sure?” I needn’t have asked of course. She playfully squeezed my member through my pants, and led me inside, “I’m still hungry… ”

*
The door opened and the rather quiet couple led us inside. It was a modern, minimalist space. Everything was bare with the exception of an overlarge black and white, erotic photograph adorning only the far wall. All the furniture was white. In fact everything was white. The space would have felt clinical if it wasn’t for the impressive and welcoming centerpiece.

In the middle of the room was a massive, circular, sunken in couch. I wasn’t sure if it was a couch or bed. We soon found out that the rich velour, in shades of heather grey, was both. Sven and Helene poured us some drinks and we settled. There was really nothing to talk about; chit chat was not our reason d’être in their intimate space.

Still – I waited for our hosts to lead. Not certain of what they actually had in mind. In boredom, His hand was slowly gliding up my thigh, I was still wet and the tedium of the uncertainty of our hosts was starting to grate. I leaned over and straddle Him. He smiled up at me and slowly raised my skirt knowing this would afford our hosts a view of my ass, thong and in time, his erect penis. He hoped the visual would inspire action.

I heard a hiss of approval from behind yet was still startled when I felt a strong hand cupping a breast and a foreign set of lips on the back of my neck. Brushing my hair out of the way, I looked over my right shoulder and saw Helene on the other end of the “couch”, her legs parted, and her hand between her thighs enjoying the view of the ménage a trois before her. I motioned for her to come closer and she shuffled until she was in arms reach of Him. I looked at Him lovingly, as I felt the hands of a stranger unbutton and pull off my top, my eyes never looking away from His.

His cock was straining making Him uncomfortable, so I reach down to unzip him and let his member go free. His one hand on my free breast still cupped in my black lace bras and the other hand down the white skimpy cotton boy shorts of Helene. He seemed quite happy with his lot.

*

It never ceased to amaze me the abandon she could display. Her curvaceous body soft in all the right places was a sight. I watched Sven unclasp her bra, and as the black lace was scattered her glorious mounds revealed themselves to me. I watched with some envy, his callused hands touch them – eagerly plying the soft flesh. Her eyes closed.

I was grateful for Sven’s total silence. It allowed me to think of him as an accessory and not a real person kissing my beloveds neck and touching her so intimately. Helene was another matter. Her soft and voluptuous moans were like a sexy soundtrack in the background and I stole a look at her.

She was petite in every way and her tiny frame looked fragile in her nudity and enjoyment. The play of my fingers somehow made her seem vulnerable. Flat chested and a little skinny she had a fire in her that belied her small stature. Yet, there was emptiness there in her eyes that also frightened me a little. In fact there was something empty about Sven too as if he was acting and not really fully present. This play was filling a void for these two and the thought of that made me almost lose my erection as a wave of pity threatened to take over.

*

I saw a shift in Him. He was over thinking this and I jerked his member up a little too hard. His eyes snapped back to mine. I grinned. He grinned back. I wasn’t going to let Him fuck up this opportunity with His tendency to over analyze everything. I needed Him to join me in living in this moment.

Sven’s hands were magic and yet I was only vaguely aware of him. I gave him the same amount of attention I would a vibrator on my bed. I could hear Helene’s sounds of sweet pleasure and it reminded me of having a porno on the TV in the background. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that I wanted – was Him.

I lifted my ass up only enough to pull away the fabric of my thong to the side. Lowering down to impale myself, I hovered for a few exquisite moments letting the heat of my cunt tease Him. His head leaned back and I saw Him enjoy in his mind first, what his body knew was about to happened. His member stirred and using his pelvic muscles, his cock reached up a little more tickling the entry of my pussy. It was too much. I sat in his lap, taking him in.

*
The feeling of her cunt stretching to take all of me, the warm heat surrounding my cock in the moist and powerful recesses of her womb was a feeling I was totally and utterly addicted too. It was the one place I could lose myself in totality.

I felt the rise and drop of her hips on mine and for a moment I held my breath afraid I would come too soon. Luckily, my attention was diverted to Helene moving in towards my beloved, raising herself on her knees on the couch next to her and kissing her with passion and viciously pinching her own nipples. She then went to kiss Sven and back to my dearest … back and forth.

Feeling too much like an observer, my hand slid back between Helene’s thighs and found her engorged and slick clit. She wiggled her tiny ass in pleasure as I continued to finger her with one thumb inside the entrance of her cunt and the other four making a come-hither motion teasing her poor pearl. She moaned her ecstasy into my beloved’s mouth.

*
I was hazily aware of Sven’s body behind me, of a woman’s lips on mine of hands on my breast and painful tugs at my nipples, of a hard member making its way between my ass.  I was lost in a sea of touch, smell and sound. In sweet torment my body rose and fell with the ebb and flow of my dance partners.

*

I sensed Sven trying to part my knees in order to make his claim on the soft curves of my love’s gloriously round and perky derriere. I read her body language and knew that she was far gone in her pleasure and would be willing. I parted my knees enough to give him access without him ejecting me. No. That was my prize and mine alone and he would never lay claim there. In that way she was mine; only mine.

With the aid of lubrication, he slid inside her, tentative and a little clumsy but soon found a rhythm that allowed him to penetrate her, without ruining her rhythm of pleasing me. And so, long languid minutes of pleasure began for us all.

Surprisingly Helene was the first to come. She did so gloriously all over my fingers. Her back flushed prettily with waves of crimson as she locked lips with my Love for support and her hand found Sven’s and squeezed it possessively. Sven followed moments later making the first real sound that evening as he jerked upward and released himself into the condom inside my beloved’s ass.

*

I was under attack. My body assaulted with pleasure in every way. My mouth was full of tongue and luscious lips; my gut filled with a tentative but relentless thrust and my cunt was filled gloriously by Him. I opened my eyes and found His. Our love was nothing to be toyed with and my heart gave way as I saw Him there, loving me. I felt myself cross the threshold then.

I felt and heard our play mates come. Sven’s hand gripped at my chest and right then I mouthed “Come with me” to Him. With that, I sat down harshly in his lap forcing him to fill me to the deepest and darkest recesses of my inner self. His jism hit the walls and flooded me as the Tsunami of torrential orgasmic force rocked though my body.

We collapsed.

***

Months passed before we returned to the restaurant, not thinking about our adventure until we saw Helene and Sven sitting at the little table for two in the corner. We nodded in greeting and Helene flashed us a large, happy smile as Sven blushed furiously.

Moments later her tiny frame and sensual perfume filled our space. Helen’s blond hair hung carelessly in her face and she brushed bread crumbs off her tweed pants. She handed us a postcard size invitation and said: “Hope you can make it” in a voice oozing with promise, before pushing Sven out the door, into the cold before her.

*

I grabbed the invitation out of His hands curious to see what it said. It didn’t hold much information other than a date, time and place. I was intrigued and presented it to Him to read. What could this be? Another rendezvous?

*

I looked at the information displayed in the center of a large, heather grey dot in the middle of a pure white postcard. I smiled at the mirroring of the quiet couple’s intimate space. I couldn’t help but wonder what had come first, the living space or the logo?

I looked up at my love an eyebrow raised. Did she want to go? Her smile told me all I needed to know. It seems she was still hungry.

*

Two evenings later found us standing in front of the address wondering if we had it wrong. We double checked our card and confirmed with a passerby. This was it. Not wanting to stand out in the snow much longer, I grabbed His hand and went inside, drawn by the faces of all the “pretty people” and the sound of laughter and the notes of soft blues.

As we walked in we were handed a glass of champagne each, while a young and pretty thing took our coats. My eyes were wide with wonder at the work displayed in the art gallery. The most beautiful erotic scenes unveiled before me. Photographs I could get lost in for hours given half a chance. They were marvels of photography. The details vivid enough to make even the most adventurous amongst us blush.

His hand squeezed mine and I looked at Him to find Him pointing in a direction with an upward nod of His chin. I looked up and saw the focal point of the room and masterpiece of the collection.

On the only wall with color, that same heather grey in an otherwise sea of white washed walls was a massive nine by eight foot photograph.

I almost dropped my glass. 

The room went silent in my head.

All I heard was a sultry voice say:

“I hope you don’t mind”.

 

© 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.

February 14, 2010 Posted by | anal, Beauty, erotica, Voyeur | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Montecristo

Storry was removed – to be published in Oyster’s and Chocolate – August 2010!!

February 9, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Sensual, temptation | , , , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

“What are you doing missy?”

He stood there, his unruly hair kept off his face with a Buff, his lean and muscular upper body exposed looking very much like one of his own studies in human anatomy. She licked her lips and shivered a little as she squeezed her vaginal walls together.

She sighed again.

He had only recently started tapping into his artistic side; long dormant in pursuit of a noble career. Meeting her had changed a few things in his life, including this awakening to art. She wondered who was really more surprised at this development. Likely she was. The first time she had glanced at a charcoal sketch of his her breath had caught in her throat. A sense of pride had filled her as she realised that his artistic inclination wasn’t just something to do as a hobby but, something he was actually gifted enough to do in earnest. He was still and always cautious and couldn’t quite believe himself an artist, but his spirit had already changed. His hair had grown a little, he no longer wore the “full suit’ to the office 5 days a week and she noticed that he had started shaving only every other day. He wasn’t slovenly – that he would never become, but there was a relaxation within him she was pleased to witness. It balanced him off nicely. His own trinity: the athlete, the executive and the artist.

They had talked of learning how to dance the Argentinean Tango. He had mentioned wanting to learn how to play classical guitar. They had started a blog together to talk about living well and healthy lives. But it was painting that had in fact manifested itself fully. It was painting that had tapped into his emotional, creative and spiritual being. She used words to paint an image, he used oils and acrylics.

She watched him now; his fingers full of gooey paint, his knife being brandished like a knight’s sword or surgeon’s scalpel on his canvas. The thick paint was changing colors, taking on contours and shadows. The textures changing from smooth ridges to hard edges depending on the mood. The focus was always the human form, more often than not the female soft curves over took the massive canvas. He painted larger than life, bold and vibrant, a crazy cross between art deco and comic strips. His was a wonderfully strange and modern vision.

She was almost jealous of the way he focused on his art. He disappeared inside his creative bubble almost oblivious to her, the loft, and the music in the air with its slightly tribal beat.

She licked her lips again.

Closing her eyes, she let her hand disappear in her lace panties. Tasting the paint on her lips she melded into the canvas in his mind. Unnervingly she felt them, his strong and powerful hands not just caressing her body, but molding it to his pleasing. His hand rushing up her thigh, the knife slicing away another inch off her hips and his fingers gently adding it back. Her shoulder raised, her breasts protruding outwards, his fingers smudging her nipple, the blade bringing it back – hard, harsh then fingers smoothing it out … feminine.

His breath on her canvas skin shivering. Her abs one moment smooth the next more athletic, then some wonderful place in-between. She was his vision being born out of her own flesh. She was his desire burning, growing inside her own belly. Slow and reverently, fingers between her thighs. Darkness there. Mystery. A brush, a sweep … her clit gorged and proud begging, asking for more attention ….large sweeping fingers, paint filling holes, her body arching to meet his touch, the multicolored lubricant letting his hands sweep and fall in all the correct nooks and crannies. She moans. The thick wooden handle of the knife slips against her cunt; there it wants to disappear in the darkness. It slows, it halts. Then harshly up it spreads her apart – to discover an internal canvas a new blank space to discover to fill. She aches for his warmth, his touch and he fills her , a hot aching need to be alive and explodes with a white flash to paint the inside of her.

A sensual voice floats to her ears …. “What are you doing missy?”

© 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.

February 4, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Sensual | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

Scandinavian Spa

“The concept requires alternating hot, cold and relaxation periods. First warm up your body by taking a Finnish sauna or steam bath for 10 to 15 minutes; this will open up your pores and toxins can be evacuated through sweat. Then, quickly cool off by submerging yourself under the Nordic waterfall or in one of our cold or temperate pools; this step will help rinse off toxins and tighten up the pores of your skin. Finally, complete the process with a calming period by sitting peacefully for another 10 to 15 minutes in one of our indoor or outdoor relaxation areas. This step will allow your system to find its normal rhythm. To fully take advantage of the beneficial effects of such an activity, we recommend that you repeat these steps 3 to 4 times in a row, at your own pace, and top off the experience by relaxing your muscles in our outdoor hot tub.
The benefits of Nordic baths are numerous. Additionally to providing a total sense of well being and relaxation, this activity allows the body to eliminate toxins, relax the muscles, improve the quality of sleep, stimulates the mechanisms of the immune system and contributes to overall oxygenation. All in all, this experience provides an opportunity to purify oneself, both physically and spiritually.”
 

 

Hmmmm sounds good to me.

11:15 a.m. The day is ideal, cool crisp and the sun coming and going ensures that neither one of us will get a sunburn, especially her with her fair skin. We check in and get our bottles of water, locker “magnetic key” bracelet and big fluffy robes and towels.

11:25 a.m. The locker room is large and spacious and packed with amenities like hairdryers, shampoos, conditioners and body lotions. Change stalls are available for the more prudish and large long benches with ample space to sprawl your belongings for those like me happy to prance around in glorious nudity. Showers are clean and the tiny little glass tiles give them the appearance of a big shiny opal.

I strip and fold my things neatly into a locker. Pull on my bikini; weave my hair into two neat little braids to keep my long locks out of my face. I pull on the rob, grab my towel, plop the water bottle into my pocket, slip on my flip flops and make my way out to the glorious summer day and handsome companion.

11:40 a.m. She walks out of the locker room and my heart implodes in my chest. I love how versatile she is. One moment all outdoorsy ready to zip line, bike or bungee jump, the next girly in high heels and summer dresses ready for a play or ballet … but this is how I love her best. Not a trace of makeup, her breasts obscenely stretching the fabric of her bikini top, her little braids reminding me of my childhood cowboy and Indian story books. She’s got curves with strong muscles underneath. She’s beautiful.

11:50 a.m. I let her know that I am hungry and we make our way to the restaurant and share a light meal. The food very healthy and filling without making us feel like a mountain of bricks has landed suddenly in our guts.

12:15 p.m. We find a lounge area in the sun and let our meal settle. We enjoy the quiet. No one is allowed to talk. The silence is truly golden. I let my eyes close.

Now and then I open them to admire the contour of his fit and handsome body. It’s funny how you can know a person for months and suddenly see something new. In the sun, I notice the smile lines near his eyes. The upward sweep makes him seem happy even in the relaxed pose. His hair falling from his face always seems so dark, but in the sun I discern a slight red undertone I had not distinguished before.

“You ready?” your voice catches me off guard I am so lost in my observations … your smile tells me you’d noticed.

12:45 p.m. It’s hot. We have walked into the Turkish bath and its wall of eucalyptus steam. The hot and heavy air making her cough a little as her lungs adjusted and she settled next to me on the bench.

The décor is stunning. The room is a large oval shape with three tiers of steps that double as the benches where only 3 others have perched themselves. I pull my love by the hand behind me and move us to the top where we settle near a window looking out onto the woods. She’s claustrophobic and I know this is the best way for her to relax in this box. For a moment I try and figure out how the steam is kept from fogging up the glass on the window pane.

My thinking is interrupted as the sun comes out and I see her caught in its beam. My breath is knocked out of me I stare in disbelief. With the sudden sunlight, the tiles in the Turkish Bath create the illusion of moving water as the steam shifts and dissipates and is then re-launched into the small space after the massive glass door “suctions cups” shut.
 
My lover leans against the window and the light makes her seem … other worldly. The tiny water beads over her delicate skin seem like a thousand little diamonds. Her big eyes open and stare at me staring at her and I wonder what she sees. I can’t resist and I lean in and kiss her. I touch her; caress her in the oppressive heat. Her smile and sigh a reward beyond hope.

1:00 p.m. “I need air” I manage to whisper without coughing. He nods in agreement, although I am reluctant to let his fingers slide away from the inside of my thighs. His caress had been getting more and more intimate and my body is tingling from top to bottom with desire. I had enjoyed the privacy the steam provided but the closed space and thick air was beginning to make me feel crushed. It was time to get out before a sudden desire to scream took over.

We step outside and the summer day seems almost cool. But not as cold as what is facing us.

Roaring before our eyes is a waterfall. Not massive in size but impressive in power. My handsome and fearless man wades right into the water and stands under the thumping weight of the ice cold “shower”. His grin tells me all I need to know. It’s cold. More than cold it’s freezing, sub zero, should be solid ice, cold. I cringe. I hate the cold.

Grabbing my courage by the horns and wrestling with it I walk into the pool and drop to below the water level and try to count to 10. I can’t do it … by 8 I am walking out and shivering.

He laughs and starts to reach for me to pull me under the gushing water; I manage to just slip away avoiding the cruel and unusual punishment he had in store for me. Instead he follows me to the relaxation area.

1:15 p.m. I see the large Fat Boy for two and can’t resist. My Love is wrapped in her robe trying to ward off the feeling of cold that has crept into her bones. I, on the other hand, love it. My skin tingles and I feel so alive! I just want to nuzzle her and touch her. Those bean bags look perfect for that.

We settle and I am pleased at how comfortable they are. Nothing like the lumps of synthetic fabric of old, these are heavy duty and stay up and support. We cuddle in the center, legs entangled, with her head on my chest. Her little cold nose is buried between my pecks as she tries to recover from the ice bath. Her hands have made their way to my swim trunks and I feel the delicate play of her fingertips down on my cock head.

There’s no way I can stand up now. I hear her giggle as if she’d heard my thought. I look down and see the playful radiance all over her. Oh damn … I’m in trouble. God I want her so badly … her fingers are ummm …. warming up.
 

1:30 p.m. Our robes are providing some privacy from onlookers. I can feel the sudden surge in his trunks under my playful tease. I giggle a moment thinking of the Seinfeld episode the words “shrinkage” echoing in my head. There doesn’t seem to be a problem here anymore.

An older couple walks by and the lady looks at me knowingly I flash a smile back and she walks away, a prudish stance in her step. I wonder when was the last time a lover took her passionately and made her body rejoice with life. I hope that’s never me. I snuggle into my love. My hand now firmly wrapped around his hot warmth. We sigh. And surprisingly … dose.

2:00 p.m. We’ve slept a little past our next round. But the deep relaxation beginning to enter my body tells me this is all just too perfect. I lean into my sweetheart’s ears and whisper as quietly as I can. She nods and we move on.

The sauna waits.

The room is large. A massive floor to ceiling window overlooking the baths makes this sauna a bright and pleasant space. I see her shoulders relax as the heat warms her up finally and the smell of warm wood fills our noses.

She loves sauna’s but always struggles with the small confined space. This one seems custom built for her. She grins. I kiss her deeply right there.

We walk quietly to a lower bench. I sit and she lies down next to me, her head in my lap. It’s not usual Sauna protocol; it’s obvious by the eyes around the room trying not to stare at the open display of affection. But I don’t care. I let my fingers caress the little stray curls out of her face, my hand finds her shoulders and massages gently. She stretches out like a cat and moans very quietly. Every move she makes, and every one of my touches is sensual and we both know its foreplay. Yet – we aren’t doing anything wrong or crass.

2:15 p.m. The beads of sweat have formed on my skin and it’s time for the dreaded cold part again. I feel a little braver this time – since we aren’t going to the ice bath but the temperate one. I can manage that. I slide in and clench my teeth but go all the way in, the cold water envelopes my body like an icy lover. I shiver.

I  feel the warmth of his arms around me as he holds me to him in the water. I wrap my legs around his waste, and lean my head on his shoulder and let him hold me there in the water so I don’t wimp out and leave too early. He tries to distract me with gentle kisses. “I’m cold …” with that, he puts me down and, wading out, we then cross over to the warm hot tub.

2:30 p.m. The warm bubbling water rushes over us and I feel the slight shock of the cold to warm that for now seems too hot. My skin loves this and I feel utterly energized.

I make my way to the bench where the jets are strong and powerful. She follows me obviously much happier in the warm water. We settle and find jets to knead away at whatever muscles are sore. She sinks in finding one to handle her tight shoulders. I find one just at the right level to hit that tension in my lower back. In silence we relax.

I’m startled by her hand making its way up my shorts. She has moved closer and a naughty twinkle in her eye tells me I’m done dosing off.

I bring her in and hold her in my arms like a babe. Her eyes flash wide open as she realizes why I have done this. The jet that had been massaging my lower back is now straight on, full strength, on her clit. A sudden flush rises to her cheeks as she tries to wiggle out of the way, but I hold her almost by force. She wraps her arms around me neck “but I’m going to ….” I hold her even tighter. Her body is responding and I’m not letting her out of this one. I hold her and she gives up fighting me.

She’s sweet in my arms. All her soft skin and warm curves are trembling. I hold her and listen to her breath rise a little. It doesn’t take long. I see the muscles in her arms as she holds me tight and her inner thighs tremble in a tell tale way. I know not to leave her there too long else it get painful. I move. She relaxes in my arms. The flush of an orgasm on her face, eyes closed she languidly rests in my arms. I love her. The way she can come like that is remarkable. I have never known a woman that could so easily just let go.
 

2:45 p.m. I lift my hand to his face, and show him my raisin fingers. It’s time to get out of the water. We make our way to the quiet room. It’s a large space with two rows of wall to wall “bunk beds” of sorts. All made of the same wood as the sauna with thick water resistant cushions. They are all very open to sight except for one.

Almost like an after thought – one bunk is almost above the entrance door. It’s angle making it far more private. Without having to even confer, we both make our way up the little wooden ladder and settle in our nook. There is a person straight across from us, we nod in salutation and tightening our fluffy robes around us, face to face we lay down to nap.

I can’t help but want to play with him. But our roommate makes it impossible for me to do more than caress his chest and play with his hair. I let myself snuggle up and dose off.

*thunck-a-thunck-a-thunck*

I open my eyes. His breathing is soft. He’s half asleep. I look up a little and …. we are alone.

I turn around so that my ass is in his crotch and grind into him a few times. His arm wraps around my waist and he presses into me. I snake my hand behind my back at an awkward angle, let it slide under his waist band and find his already hard cock waiting eagerly for my touch. He presses his lips into my neck and his entire body into mine, making movement with my arm impossible. I whisper “Move back love”. The few extra inches of space give me just enough room to start a gentle up and down.

I’ve never – to date – been able to make him come with a hand job or blow job. It’s not me. I know that. He’s just not “wired” that way. I’ve had enough lovers to know that my skill in those areas is not shabby. Some would even say I even excel at it. But the doubt starts to nag at the back of my mind, my self-confidence taking its beating. I start. I have time, he’s relaxed and horny. Maybe this time ….?

3:00 p.m. I can’t believe how good it feels. Her hand firm but soft around my member. I can sense pleasure stirring in my loins. I don’t think I’ll come here in a public place. But damn it feels good. I’m just going to relax and enjoy what she wants to do to me. Damn ….

3:15 p.m. My arm and hand are really starting to hurt. I move, and turn to face him. Holding myself up on my left elbow, I undo the velcro and strings that hold his swim shorts closed and release his shaft. There’s a thrill. We are relatively exposed. All it would take is one person to want to come in from the sun outside and relax in the space to see us. The thrill seems to add an edge to everything. I let my right hand continue where the left hand had left off.

I kiss him as my hand works its way up and down his cock. I hear his breath change dramatically and I don’t dare hope. We’ve been here before. I don’t break rhythm and just continue. My kiss becomes more aggressive, I nibble and bite and cover his face with my breath, and my hand never stops.

3:25 p.m. Its starts like a memory in the back of my mind. I can’t stop it – like a heard of wild horses coming over the horizon and suddenly my body arches as I feel the rush of orgasm like a thousand hooves.  Her mouth over mine muffles the animal growl that has come from deep inside my gut and I explode all over her hand and my stomach.

3:35 p.m. “Oh you’re happy now aren’t you” I say breathlessly as I see her eyes gleaming and I can almost see her patting herself on the back. I must admit that was well done. I came from a hand job. I can’t remember the last time that happened. She’s cleaning me up with the small hand towel we’ll toss in the hamper on our way out. I can feel her happy little finger tying up my strings and the velcro. She even pats me on the chest with a “there now …” Oh yes, she’s pleased with herself all right and that’s potentially dangerous for me.

3:45 p.m. It’s time for our massages, before we do one more round and go home. I am beaming. I just knew … I knew I could do it. We climb down the ladder, him first and I follow.  Just then a female staff member walks in. As my love walks out, she looks at me, at the flush of our cheeks and the grin on my face and she knows. I can see her trying to think of something to say or do and as I come shoulder to shoulder with her I lean over, and whisper in her ear:

“Prove it”.

January 17, 2010 Posted by | Beauty, erotica, Not the bedroom, Outdoors, temptation | , , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Jerk Off

I wrote this for a friend in 35 minutes (well ok – 38 min.) for … obvious reasons. I leave it with you in its raw un-edited state. Please let me know your thoughts.  I rarely write this fast or with a “purpose”.

***

Miles. That’s the distance between them. In fact opposite ends of the planet. They couldn’t have been further apart from each other if they had tried. Distance is a tricky thing when it comes to matters of the heart. The longing and thus constant obsession can keep the feelings of fresh love alive longer, but the loneliness if not managed properly can shred the intimacy to pieces, leaving you hanging on to something that no longer resembles the close bond between a couple.

Time is finite for them. She goes to bed when he wakes up, and he slows down at the end of the day when she awakens fresh from her dreams ready to take on the world. The difference in their energy level always their greatest challenge of all. He’s always the next day from hers, living tomorrow before she does. For them it’s no longer about day and night. They have become citizens of the dawn and dusk.

Sunrise and sunset are the colors that shade their love life. Warm and welcoming and yet fleeting.

Sitting in front of her tiny screen she sees him. They barely talk anymore she realizes. Every encounter and every e-mail exchange is about sex and the banal pursuit of orgasm. The relationship reduced to fleeting moments of erotic exchange. He’s naked already, his hand wrapped around his cock. Hard and eager. His eyes glistering with the lust and anticipation of the feast ahead. She’s horny that’s for sure. His hard athletic body does that to her. She starts to strip nice and slow. Showing first some shoulder, then some chest. Her breast are capped by full and luscious nipples made for sucking, she pinches them in his absence. His hand goes up and down harder. “Your hot princess” he says.

Grabbing her red dildo out of the drawer next to her, she places it between her tits. She moves it up and down. On the other end she hears a sharp in-take that matches the nod of his head in approval. She knows he wishes it was him. She’s pleased … yet ….

Standing, she bends over, presenting him with her ass. Wiggles her panties off and tries to give him a close-up of her shaved intimate parts. The camera is so small, it’s awkward but she finds the right height and angle and holds herself steady for a while. He’s breathing heavy now. She knows he’s close. She turns around leans into the camera and opens her mouth. He leans over and jerks off until he comes in his hand. Her eyes feast on the beauty of him, his member and the memory of his body wrapped around hers and the smell of him intoxicates her mind. She’s thrilled with the effect she has on him and confused with the one he has on her.

“I got to run” he says, and switches off. She’s left forlorn without release of her own. Sitting on the side of her bed, a sense of isolation engulfs her fully. She let’s her hand wonder to between her thighs and laying down she fills the void with a moment of pleasure, her clit is bulging with blood.

Flushed, she rests a moment prior to walking to the bathroom sink where she cleans the toys before getting ready for work. As she looks in the mirror she starts to cry. She’s worth more than this. Holding the edge of the sink, she takes a determined breath.

Long gone are the hours of conversation on the phone, the e-mails filled with romance that thrilled her once… “I feel dirty” she whispers to no one in particular. She stares again a long time at her own eyes reflected in the mirror. They seem big, sad and tired. She straightens her shoulders, takes a long shuddering breath once again and walks to her laptop. She goes to the sites they use and blocks his e-mail. She deletes her account from a number of online venues. She goes and types a short message, then blocks his e-mail and deletes it from her address list. Somehow filled with a sense of freedom she continues her toilettage and leaves her house.

A smile spreads tentatively across her lips as she makes her way through her daily commute. His hold on her is gone. She’s already been missing him achingly for months. It wasn’t the physical presence she had been missing, it was him – what he was to her, what he made her feel and the deep affection she felt for a kindred spirit. They had spent time once, talking about things – anything – what they had died a long time ago when the conversation and real exchange stopped. She still harbors a need to shout at him “I’m not your whore” … but realizes that’s not accurate. She’s not paid after all. No. She’s done being the “live play thing” of his jerk off sessions.

A deep satisfactory laugh escapes her, strangers stare. She can see him reading her final message, the words float in her minds eye: It’s over.

© 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.

 

December 28, 2009 Posted by | erotica | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 34 Comments

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.

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

Under the Willow Tree

It cleared. After weeks of rain the sun had finally come out and everyone was taking advantage of it. Every patio was filled to capacity, every dog was being walked, every boater was sailing … every cyclist was biking.

We went for a hike followed by a bike ride, then stopped for lunch and snagged a spot on a patio. Pure luck was on our side when we managed to get the last two scoops of maple chocolate ice cream. The day was perfect.

We cycled home slowly. Full from our food and a little saddle sore from the day. Deciding to stretch things out a little we took a final walk in the park. The sun was going down and a sudden cloud cover came in. Fast. It was dark and threatening but we felt no fear.

We should have. The electricity in the air made the little hairs on our arms stand at attention. Moments later the sky’s opened and the deluge came down upon us. I was giddy and drunk on love and the sun of the day. Still sweaty from the activities, I twirled and danced under the rain.

We found ourselves alone … you stared at me enjoying my playful childlike behavior. I flashed my panties at you as I twirled around and ran away playfully screaming “catch me if you can!!”

I went under the willow tree.

There I pulled off my undies and spring loaded them between my fingers and with a Woosh and Thwang they hit you in the face square between the eyes. You growled and ran to me. I turned and stopped you in your pursuit by revealing my ass to you.

Stunned you froze in your tracks. Reverently you approached me and got on your knees to bury your nose inside.

Drip drip drip the drops fells around us and on us as the curtain of rain continued.

You stood and pulled out your member. Tried to slide it in but couldn’t get the angle right. Too high, too low. You grumbled in frustration, I snorted most un-lady like and tried to help. Finally you turned me around, picked me up in your arms, and kissing me with the same intensity as the storm you laid me down on the grass. The soil was a soft mattress under me. You took me then in simple missionary style.

The deep scent of the earth in my nose, the rain a cascade of sound around us … I lost myself in you and your desire. The water cooling my body, your heat keeping me pinned. We embraced life in the ecstasy of living freely and in the moment; the joy a long and rich vibration that reached deep inside only to explode and blanket us in warm and flushed flesh.

You collapsed as I came and you held me.

Then…

Sniff sniff snifffff ….. *woof?*

Oh shit ….

© 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.

August 31, 2009 Posted by | erotica, Outdoors, Sensual, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments