Cleavage and Claws. Such potential for play.
Pure Porn
I am being fucked from behind. My ass has a string of beads in it, waiting to be pulled out when I orgasm. The cock that is in my cunt is thick and long, just like I like it. Every time he pulls back, I can feel the head of his cock almost come out then it thrusts back in. Mmmmm. I can squeeze my cunt and he moans. He plays with the bead string, pulling on it, but not letting it come out of my ass. My breath is getting deeper with the movement. I am wiggling my ass and pushing back against him on every stroke. His hands are on my ass, my hips, pulling and pushing me as his thick cock goes into me. I can feel his fingers dig into me, but I don’t care if he leaves bruises. All that matters is right now. The cock going in and out of me. His balls hitting my clit. I love that feeling and I move my hand down and start fingering myself. I fell myself jump when I touch my clit it is so sensitive.
I feel his hand go to my asshole and start rubbing around the bead string. He starts pulling it out, but I am not cuming yet. It feels good, though. I feel something cool on my ass which he starts rubbing into my asshole. He puts a thumb in and strokes along with his cock. It feels so good. Then, he pulls his cock out of my cunt and starts to push into my ass. It is shocking, but the feelings are wonderful. He pushes in his head slowly, his cock pressing it’s underside against my slit as it bends under the strain of trying to push in. It gets in suddenly with just a little bit of pain, but the warmth that flashes though my pussy is worth it. He slowly pushes further in, making me feel fuller than a cock in my pussy ever has. When he starts to pull out, I feel the coolness on my asshole, again. He is putting more lube on his cock as he it pulling out. He pushes in and it is looser with the extra lube.
My fingers are furiously going at my clit as he is stroking in and out of my ass. I feel myself getting close to orgasm so quickly, I stop moving. He lightly slaps my ass and I reflexively move and as I do so, I feel my legs buckle under me as the first wave of my cum. I have to remember to breathe. It is so powerful that I almost black out. I stay still as he continues to go in and out of me and my orgasm fills me and then starts to subside.
I feel things changing inside me so I try to stop him from moving. He is so close, though, he doesn’t pay attention. He makes one last thrust into my ass and growls. I can feel his cock spasm inside me. He eventually pulls out and I can feel the cum drip down my thighs.
Ex: Boyfriend
The two apartment situation was good for them. They lived within sight of each other, spent nights with each other, worked with each other. It was also good when they could have some time away from each other.
This morning, Jackie’s note on her kitchen window said, ‘Smoothies?’. She taped it up and went to get dressed. She heard the door to her apartment open and close as she was in the bathroom, trying out some of the make-up Mary had gotten her. There was a chuckle at the doorway.
“I look like a clown.”
Mark’s hand went to her shoulder and then slid down to her ass as he stepped into the bathroom. “No, you don’t, babe. You don’t need it. You are beautiful. Mary has been pushing at you again, hasn’t she?”
Jackie nodded and looked at the color she had just smeared on her eyelids. The color palate had said mauve, but it looked like pinky purple with just a bit of brown to her. She took a tissue and wiped at her eyes until most of the color was off. Mark waited until the woman in his arms settled down a little before going in for a kiss.
Marks hands always ended up holding onto Jackie’s ass. She had objected when they first were going out, but now she liked it. He made no bones about his love of her butt and she was liking herself more, too. It showed in many ways, but Mark just liked Jackie for herself.
It was a weekday. They couldn’t just hop into bed, which both of them wanted that morning. Mark had most of his work clothes on, his suit jacket hanging up next to his coat in the little hall. Jackie still had to put her blouse on and that was cause for some distraction.
Mark held Jackie and started to kiss down her neck, heading for her breasts. Her hands held his shoulders, feeling the heat coming from them from his morning weight lifting work out. He had gotten level with her breasts, nuzzling into one when the phone rang.
They both laughed. He got off his knee and brushed absently at it as Jackie went to answer the phone.
“... Hey!... Um, not that I know of-” Jackie pulled her new laptop open and looked for the calendar. “Hold on. Yes, I’m looking.”
Mark saw that whomever it was had taken all of Jackies’ attention. She had mentioned smoothies, so he went ahead and started to make some. He had introduced her to them after he had gained a few pounds from her baking. He really liked her cooking, and just eating with her in general. Mark worked out every day and did eat about twice as much as most people he knew. When he started to go out with Jackie, he didn’t have to hide his appetite and she had started to make amazing crumbles and cakes and things he did not know the names of, but were almost as sweet as her lips. »Read More
Birthday: Present
For many years, Jackie had ignored her birthday. It had once been important to her, but with age and responsibility, it just became a day on the calendar. Her age became something to remember to change when filling out forms. It wasn’t just the youth-centric society that seemed to push her age in her face after she turned 35, it was just uncomfortable remembering how many years she had lived, and been alone.
Jackie had an o.k. job, one where she could blend in with the other people in cubicles. She had few personal items in her space, but just enough to keep it from looking like it was empty. Generic knickknacks kept people from stopping in and talking with her when she was trying to get the paperwork done. There was always paperwork.
There was someone new in HR. Jackie could tell because there was a rash of cards that went through to be signed right before ‘impromptu’ parties in the conference room. This always happened for about a month before the ennui and budget caught up with them. Jackie winced when she saw a card get passed round about a week before her birthday, but she did not get a chance to sign it. She checked her calendar. Yes, her birthday was the next week.
Such things were put to the back of her mind as she tried to finish the reports on the demographics they needed for the next meeting. There was always another report, and always another meeting. Jackie liked the flow of that, the deadline not an obstacle or hurdle, but a goal and guidepost to the next.
One of the managers dropped off a printout of the statistics or demographics she needed most mornings, even though he could have just emailed it to her. It was often that she thanked him and smiled up at him from her desk. He had a nice smile, a dimple showing before he looked up and left, going through the cubicle maze before one of the supervisors went through after him. Jackie shook her head as she watched the short skirt on the young, skinny Miss Levit go by. It was a ritual that happened most mornings and Jackie looked forward to the statistics meetings with Mr. Hancock most afternoons.
The morning of her birthday, Jackie woke early for no apparent reason. Not too early, but even half an hour was different. She turned on the T.V. and set about making breakfast as usual, starting with heating up coffee left over from the day before. She overate. Jackie knew that. She had gone from a modest 12 to a 20 in about six years. She went shopping once a year to get things that fit, donating what didn’t. She liked to cook, and with no one else to cook for, she ate what usually was for two people.
Being up early, she was able to make a peach crumble for breakfast. She had the canned peaches her sister had sent her in the summer in the back of the refrigerator. Jackie smiled, thinking that canning should have kept it safe, but her sister didn’t always seal things right.
Oatmeal, butter, turbinado sugar from 20 little packets... Jackie had to raid the coffee making supplies for the sugar. She stood at the counter by the window into the kitchen tearing the packets until she filled the measuring cup to the level she needed. Jackie pulled the curtains slightly closed but a gap still was there letting in some light. She had to go shopping at some point to get more staples for the pantry, but the cane sugar was excellent tasting in the crumble, even if it was slightly sandy with the large crystal sugar. »Read More
Rushing Water
The water sound was all I could hear. It was dark enough that there was a lighter shadow here and there as I went carefully through the dark alley. I stumbled and fell, the water rushing past me almost covering my face. I tried to not cough, but I had sucked in some of the cold rain run-off and I couldn’t help it.
I scrambled out of the water going down the center of the alley and up against the wall of the brick building. Some of the day’s heat was still coming off the brick, but not enough to keep the shivering from making me shake, the chain around my neck rattling. I tried to keep it from sounding too loud, but everything I did was loud in my ears.
The rushing water. It was going past me and into a drain. I could hear the fall of the water, the hollowness of the hit of the drops below. They reminded me of how hollow I felt.
The city sounded empty. I didn’t know where I was, but I knew that I wasn’t safe, yet. The few shreds of clothing I had on were holding the cold water to me, not protecting me from it. It had been raining when I had forced my way through the small window, the water coming in the way I could see how I could escape.
Escape. I pushed myself from the brick and crawled back into the water. I knew it was cold, but the blood I knew was still coming from my hands and nose would be washed away. As little trail as possible. That was what I was thinking.
I do not know how far I crawled. I would stop and listen. The rushing water would go around me, the sound of the gutter and water falling into it loud and empty sounding to me. I would start crawling again until I just hurt too much, or I heard something.
A truck. I heard and saw the lights of a truck. I scrambled against the wall again, a pile of wet trash squishing under me as I hid myself, not knowing if this was a good truck or bad truck. The lights were not even, one side being brighter and bluer than the other. The driver came very close to running me over, but I was happy that there was a can near me that he had to drive around.
He stopped a ways up the alley and left his lights on. I was scared to move, but used the lights to see what was around me. Tall looking buildings, few doors and no windows. The alley ran for a while and then there was a street. The truck had come from that direction. There had to be more traffic, and possibly help. »Read More
Random pic of the day
Two pictures for you today to whet your Military/Boot/Jeep fetish.
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Mandarin Beef
I had never been in the place before. It smelled of fried things and slightly sour... something. I could see into the kitchen as I ordered, the burners under the woks a clear blue flame that had pops of yellow. The decor had a canned property about it, the tables and chairs could have come out of any small restaurant and the red lanterns declaring ‘SUSHI!’ hanging low enough to make me want to duck. There was a huge flat screen tv pointed kind-of into the middle of the room next to a hand-painted scroll with some sort of poem or story on it that covered a 4 foot by 5 foot portion of the wall. There were lucky cats lined up on one shelf and at lest three Ganesh figures in a corner by the drink dispenser. And all that in a hole in the wall Chinese place.
At least there were pictures on the walls that made me think that perhaps one of the owners had taken them last time they were Home.
I looked at the double language menu, glanced at the hand written Specials board, and ordered something I had never had before. It was called back, repeated by the guy lounging next to the intense flame.
I got my water and sat at one of the empty tables. There were lots of empty tables. It was about 2.30 in the afternoon, far past the lunch rush, and there were still tables piled with mostly-empty dishes.
If it wasn’t for the mostly-empty dishes, I would not have bothered to stay to order.
It only took a few minutes for the food to come out. I said, “sheyshey” and started in on the food, a happy smile on the woman’s face.
Someone else came in while I was enjoying the stir-fried veggies and meat in the glorious brown sauce. They seemed to order something and then get directed to another room. It looked like that was where the bathrooms were.
But they didn’t come back. »Read More
If only Penthouse was actually like real life, would people believe it?
Story for Leathermines
Naked Cheerleaders.
Hooker Day.
Adulterous Lawyers.
Just trying to get a good hook for the next story. All have some glimmer of a plot, some steamy scenes and a twist or two. That is all you need for erotica, right?
If only the real life things that happen to me were believable. Sometimes it sounds like a story out of Penthouse Letters. This for example, the anonymous sub-
****
I went into a grocery store on the way to a play party, just a little late, but those things don’t really start until it has been dark out for a while. I was dressed fairly conservatively with a long black wrap dress over my corseting and fishnets. The platform heels were still quite striking and I know that the lacings along the outside were catching the silky fabric along the hem on occasion, but I just needed to get the cookies I had not had time to bake. Typical for events like that.
Deciding between extra chewy and chocolate chunk in the snack isle, I noticed that there was a kid almost at the end of the isle staring at me. I chose the chewy cookies and started for the check out. I had to go past the kid and as I did, his eyes snapped to the shelf in front of him. My skirt opened to show the top of my laced boot and I stopped right as I past him to adjust things before going to the register. I knew his eyes were on me as I did so.
There were a few other times in the last month that I think I had seen this 18 or 19 year old in this store. He was fairly bland, furtive with his glances. Even when I had been wearing regular clothing, not the fetish wear I was wearing right then. Some kids are just too nervous around women.
I stopped momentarily to look at a display of some vapid dvd’s and I saw out of the corner of my eye the kid scooting to the register. I went to the only open one as he did and waited. He glanced back nervously, his slightly long hair slipping into his eyes. His hand wavered for an instant over the potato chips he had on the belt and then reached back and moved up the cookies I had set there.
I was... intrigued. »Read More
A random pic of the day
I really like my toys. Sometimes I have problems choosing which to use...
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Mistress 12B: Secrets of an Afternoon Dominatrix.
This is an autobiography. This is a work of fiction. This is erotica. This is apocryphal.
This is my story.
Over the last twenty years, I have been many things. Out of high school, I went directly into a job at a retail outlet. I took a few classes while I was working and brought myself over from clerk to management. I met my husband and we were married. We had a daughter and I was happy.
I put my family first, my career second. Because of that, when my daughter was in an accident, I lost the best managerial job I ever had. I was spending time with my family, not with the store. I lost the job just three days after I buried my daughter.
I was devastated. My husband had a good job and he was able to hold us together both financially and emotionally as I worked through the crap that was in my head.
I want to make one thing clear. I am not a good housewife. Yes, I cook. Yes, I can do laundry. But the staying at home thing just isn’t for me. It took about a year for me to get back on my feet and by that time, the job market had fallen around my ears. So I was forced into being a housewife.
Several years went by. I ran my house like it was a business to keep my skills up. I had spreadsheets for the shopping. I made YTD reports on plantings and maintenance around the house. I... I was fooling myself into thinking I was being happy. But I kept busy.
I did not let myself slide into watching t.v. all the time. I found that I had the urge to turn to a certain channel at a certain time during the day and I stopped myself. I grabbed my laptop and found a coffee shop. The resumes were still going out, the rejections piddling in, when they thought to send one at all. I started to use the time away from home keeping myself away from the television to do research. About the jobs available to begin with. Then the skills I would need to catch up. And then about just about anything that caught my fancy that day.
I was able to get my husband off to work, do the chores that needed to be done that day and head out before lunch most days I didn’t have something actually scheduled. I would use several coffee shops, a few book stores and the library while I was out, trying to not go to any one more than once a week. I was still vain about not having a job and tried to make it look like I was just working on a project away from my office.
In the afternoon, I would get something to make for dinner and bring it home. I was very good at throwing things in a pot or pan and making it reasonably tasty. By the time my hubs was back from his commute, I was settled in with dinner ready, a show picked out and a willingness to listen to what he had to tell me about his day.
That didn’t change. Much.
I remember one morning when I was very agitated about something. I think it was about a problem with the car that had to be fixed, but the money had gone into something else. He left as usual, oblivious to the fact that I wanted to tear his head off. I fumed. I sat and looked at the dishes that needed to be done. I turned my back on the plants that were drooping by the window. And then I picked up my computer bag as usual and left.
I should also make clear that because we had to deal with just one car and he drove into work most days, I went to places that were either within about a mile of the house, or I took the bus. It is not unusual for people who work in the city to take the bus, so I did not feel odd doing this during the week.
The morning I wanted to rip off his head and see where he kept the pea-sized brain, I didn’t bother to put on the facade. I had my black yoga pants on under an oversized black shirt. No belt. No make-up. I had my hair up in a severe pony-tail and my shoes... Well, even before the rest of this story, I had this thing for shoes.
They were some of the last good shoes I had purchased before I was fired. $350 Sonja and Phillip stiletto strappy things that made my legs look gorgeous even if I felt as though the five inch heels were being rammed through the bottom of my foot within an hour of my wearing them. I had never stopped giving myself pedicures and the bright red toes showed through the Italian leather straps like a ruby among jet.
I brought out my punch card and had the luck that day to have a free coffee. After having a one-sided argument, having something go right made the day just a little better.
My ass was on one of the rickety wooden chairs, the laptop on the faux marble table in front of me. I had my legs crossed, the top foot flexing and circling as I had the first few sips of the thick coffee. It was not the best coffee, but the shop was only about a ten minute walk, even in those heels, so it was good enough.
A man moved through the coffee shop and sat near me. He had been near the front of the storefront and I had sat near the back. It is not unusual for people to wander around coffee shops and book stores, changing their seats to get better plugs or air-conditioning. I thought little about it, except he sat so that he could see me.
I have had years now of watching people in coffee shops. When people move to adjoining tables, the usual thing is to take the seat that looks away from the closest table, or to at least turn the chair so that it is looking at neutral territory, such as the order counter.
He did neither.
I ignored him. I was not in a mood to deal with strangers. If I had still been working, my assistant would have put a small red post-it note on my door to warn people.
My daily round of resumes and rejections only took a few minutes. That was actually nice. There were some days when corporate websites would take close to an hour to make me go through their hoops and accept the stuff I could have just mailed to their HR department. A simple email off to an ad I had seen in a local pulp paper and one turd in my IN box and I was done. I had run out of unemployment at least a year before, but it was a habit I did not want to let slide.
I hit StumbleUpon and looked at random things until something caught my attention and curiosity. At this point, I don’t even remember what it was. I started to delve into it, making notes and going deeper into the internet with each click. I was not paying attention.
I stretched after a while. I had been scrunched over the fake rock table long enough that my back was telling me to move. I reached up and back slightly, feeling things move and relax. My eyes met his and he smiled.
I don’t know why I smiled back. I moved in the chair and changed which leg was on top. I went back to the random research but paid more attention to him than I had.
His eye went down and stayed down. There was a small motion of his legs going together and apart. He looked around as if he were checking to see if someone was watching him, though his eyes did not go back up to mine. I moved my foot and he was riveted.
I sighed. I looked at the screen of my laptop and tried to look bored. I knew I had some sort of a pervert looking at my shoes and wanting to... At that point, I did not know what could be done with shoes, other than wear them.
I was feeling frustrated. I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. I motioned with my toe and his eye went up to mine again. He seemed to be more excited than embarrassed at my catching him. I was flippant and said, “Either kiss them or go the fuck away.”
By all that is holy, I swear he came in his pants when I said that.
He looked towards the front of the storefront and had big eyes when he looked at me again. He stood and I could see that he was pushing the fabric of his pants out, and not with something in his pocket. He dropped a pen which rolled conveniently under my chair. He knelt. There was a pause and his lips were on my shoe.
I was stunned. He was gone out the front of the Coffee shop before I was able to actually react.
I turned back to the table and stared at my laptop. I wasn’t actually seeing whatever was on it. I was trying to work out what had just happened. I could not think of anything else. I tried to concentrate on things, but couldn’t.
I made it home early that day. I was able to put something into the oven to slowly cook before I just sat on the couch, staring at the blank television.
My husband didn’t even notice that the dishes had not been done when he came home.