Category Archives: dot dot dot

Naughty and Nice

Eliza felt her bottom shake after Rafe smacked it. She was on her knees on their bed, holding the bedpost. He snapped the elastic lace of her panty against her bottom, and she looked back at him.

“Turn around,” he practically growled, as he smacked her bottom again. “and take off your top.”

She pulled the delicate material over her head, and wiggled her bottom at him. Scrawled across her bottom in sparkly script were the words “Naughty and Nice.”

They had made love a few times she had Bibi, but this was the first time that they were doing something this kinky. They of course had played with kink, but she needed something more intense. Maybe it was her headset after having her daughter, but she wanted something more intense, she asked Rafe to spank her not with his hand but with his belt.

He pulled her close to him, and she could feel him hard against her bottom before he spanked her with the belt and she gasped.

She gasped until he was done, and could taste her own mucous from her tears because she was letting him spank her this hard.

Because the pleasure:

He pulled her close and rubbed the wetness between her legs to soothe her, and all she wanted was more from him.

She looked at him again, her eyes imploring…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Good Loving

Mathilda had been surrounded by various bodies, and she realized that that was her superpower at the moment—that she was free of attachments. She was not with anyone, and for a woman like her that was an accomplishment.

But even if she was alone, that did not mean that she did not crave good loving. In her new hotel, as soon as she saw the gorgeous bedding she knew she was going to have a good night!

Alone!

When she slipped under the covers—naked—she felt her labia quiver with anticipation for the action to come. Dimmed lights and the skyline of the city she was in—which was not one that everyone knew but still lovely—was the background as she rolled around the sheets. The luxurious material against her naked body made her want to touch herself but she knew she would come too soon if she immeadiately touched herself. But the quivering was so intense, that she just pressed her hand against her wet skin between her legs, and lie on her back, her buttocks spread so that her anus contracted and she had barely started. Her nipples were hard as soon as she touched them—as she knew they would be.

Pulling the sheets over her, she submerged into just the realm of her own sensation. A finger stuck in her belly button felt as erotic as anything—every part of her that she touched was so sensitive. Touching her nipples was a way that she could have her release, but she knew that she wanted to touch her core. It was so sweet when she did. She was so wet, it was almost too easy for her so she made herself almost come—and then not almost and then no.

It was like being lost at sea, rising and falling. Rising and falling. She thrust the seats of of her, and saw her naked body and the rough pleasure she was giving herself which made her rise, rise and fall.

Naked and spent, she looked at herself in the mirror with a smile. It was good to see her own pleasure.

It felt like she had forgotten…

More Mastrubation Monday here:

One-Year Wedding Anniversary

So I have not been able to access my blog for almost a week, and this post is soooo late and Masturbation Monday will be late as well. But better late than never–please celebrate Eliza and Rafe’s one-year wedding anniversary with them!!! Maybe because it was Halloween–maybe some spooks with that spooked my technology?!

Eliza was happy to go somewhere more private with Rafe in the lounge. The hallway was decorated dark and sparse like a cemetery. They were tangled in exaggerated cobwebs and moon-colored lighting, as they moved into a private room that had a “Reserved” placard on the satin sheets.
Rafe pulled her softly into it, and closed the door with his leg. He pushed her to the wall inside, and she looked up at him.
“Do you want the door open or closed?” He asked her, his breath and the halo of his lips on her jaw.
“Closed,” she breathed, and caressed his face so she could kiss him.
There was a drink minimum at the bar, but they had been drinking before they got there, so Eliza at least was tipsy. But not so tipsy that she did not remember that she had just seen Terrence with another woman, but was completely focused on Rafe.
He closed the door all of the way, and kissed her so hard he lifted her off of the floor. She wrapped her arms about him, and pressed her face to his chest. Eliza felt so safe in his arms, she felt like everything that was wrong with the world would be okay if he held her.
“I love you…” she said looking up into his eyes, and he looked down at her. His eyes soft and warm.
“I love you Liza, let’s get married.”
Eliza smelled the liquor on his breath, and laughed.
“Let’s get married,” he repeated.
Eliza was silent, as he let go of her on one side. She was even more silent, as he handed her her ring.
Her engagement ring.
Her arms tightened about his neck.
“Ingrid and I are not getting married Eliza. It just was not going to work, and she saw what I knew but would not say. That I still want to marry you. I love you. Marry me, this time for real.”
Eliza could not see him because her eyes were so filled with tears.
Her eyes were still filled with tears a week later, when she saw a picture of them—her wearing a vintage white cocktail dress and him wearing a vintage suit with tails.
Mr. and Mrs. Hughes…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Musings via @loveisafetish

Nikki and I made friends via Twitter–one of the things I love about social media. Polka dots was a shared love! I love that she inspires me daily–even more after reading this guest post she wrote. She motivates herself, and makes me want to be and do more!

Get inspired!!!

Posting the 281st photo to my #365photochallenge thread on Twitter, I caught myself feeling disappointed and bittersweet about being so close to finishing my year long photo project. Who even am I? What the fuck was that about?

https://twitter.com/loveisafetish/status/1182331905485631489

The answer is pretty clear. This project has been beneficial on so many levels. At its most basic, accomplishing any positive, daily task is good for your mental health. Add that it’s something that makes me feel sexy, fun and creative? It’s been a fantastic cocktail of awesomeness.

The theory is that the key to healing, growth or learning is to find something that works for you, personally, because we all learn differently. This photo project is an excellent example of that. It’s been difficult, frustrating and downright pissed me off to have to deal with weekly feelings of god damn it I’m too fucking busy and have a toddler and I do not have time or inspiration for this shit — oh wait, there’s a delightful sunbeam to take a nude picture in, score! And I think that’s what’s kept me going. It’s a challenge, but an attainable one that I have control over.

Not only has it made me feel remarkably better about my body and sensuality, but it’s made me pay attention and learn how the natural light looks in every room of our home at every time of the day. It’s allowed me to appreciate the way the light falls on my curves from different angles. It’s required me think outside of the box in terms of location, pose, color, outfit, makeup, varying factors all playing a part in forcing myself to expand upon what I know to be able to take a unique photo every day, for hundreds of days.

It’s forced me to get myself dolled up, dressed in lingerie and in a frame of mind that I might not have been able to access if I wasn’t so motivated to stick with this project. Weekly prompts, like Violet’s Lingerie is for Everyone and Molly’s Sinful Sunday have been my saving grace. Giving me a reason every week to try just a little harder, to participate, to put myself out there. All things that I struggle to do without a nudge.

I was incredibly proud of myself for sticking with this project for the first week, then month, it seemed like no time and I was writing about hitting my half a year mark in July. Now, with only 80 days left, I’m already pretty certain I will continue my project again next year. Why wouldn’t I? It seems like a no brainer to continue doing something that genuinely affects my mental health in an incredibly positive way.

You can follow along with my photo project here, and access the NSFW versions here or my Dropbox!

Whenever I Call You Friend

It was not awkward, but Eliza noticed all of the differences in her body now that she was pregnant. She had had a lot of nausea in the first month and was tired all of the time. Those were the symptoms that made her check to see what was going on with her.

She and Rafe had not been trying to have a baby—especially not when she was sleeping regularly with Oscar. They used protection of course, she only did not use protection with Rafe. So when she realized she was pregnant she knew her baby had to be for her husband and that was the way it should be. Rafe said that he did not even question, because any baby she had would be theirs.

Looking at her naked body in the mirror, after having made love to her husband, Eliza studied everything new about herself. Her breasts were fuller, her nipples were darker and her eyes were brighter. There was a suggestion of a line from her navel to her mound, and it awed her to see all of the changes that were happening to her body…

…because of her baby.

The doorbell rang, and she wrapped her robe about herself. She was not expecting anyone. She had begun doing some small work remotely, but there were no meetings planned.

When she saw Oscar through the peephole, she swallowed.

Rafe had just left for work, and she was not sure what to say to Oscar. She had already told him the baby was not his, but then she paused and knew he was still grieving Chloe. When she opened the door, he greeted her with a warm kiss and her robe opened. He looked down at her body.

“You are beautiful,” he said, as she tied her robe about her waist.

Her eyes were warm when she looked at him,

“Do you want some coffee?”

He shook his head,

“I just wanted to see you, to see a friend.”

Eliza nodded, as much as she loved him she was a little afraid what he wanted from her as a friend.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

friendship via wikipedia

Burst

Damaris was inordinately aroused, as she was driven back to her apartment. Nyla had her driver drive her back there, because she wanted her to be especially fresh for Jared.

Damaris had every intention of being ready for him.

When she went back to her apartment, she took off all of her clothes, and folded them neatly in the bathroom. She was on such a fire, she was almost afraid to touch herself. A finger on her nipple was like striking a match, and she thought she would come from doing just that so she was afraid to touch herself anymore. It would be so much better to burst with Jared when he got there.

Damaris dressed slowly because she was afraid that any touch would made her burst with pleasure before his arrival. Thankfully he was right on time like he always was, and she was ready for him.

“Beautiful,” he said, and the sound of his voice almost made her come with its resonance. He looked her up and down lingering–she had dressed for him to linger on her every curve.

Her gown was transparent, and he could see everything. She could see everything behind him in the mirror. He cupped her breasts immediately, as he kissed her neck. His breath at her nape almost took her over the edge, but she did not. She hoped that it would be one of the times when he could not wait and that he would take her swiftly against the door, or not so much further than that.

It was.

He pressed her to the full-length mirror by the door. Her lips, palms and nipples touched the mirror, as he pulled up the back of her gown. His grunts of urgency made her thighs shiver, as she was desperate for him. With wide eyes, she caught his in the mirror and he looked at her while he fucked her. Each thrust was all the more intense because he looked at her while he did. His eyes widened as she fucked him back, but they never stopped looking at each other even when she came so quickly she was ashamed.

Jared held her breasts, and kissed her temple as he looked at her in the mirror.

“Beautiful.”

It was.

More Masturbation Monday here:

image via Petticoat Diva Jo

The Look of Lust

Damaris was Nyla’s best girl, so she had a relationship with her whether she wanted it or not. A lucrative one in which she invited her over once a week for a meal, and the guise of friendship. It was Damaris’ impetus on that–they both probably knew it was easier to keep an enemy close at hand than not.

One of her top clients who had never asked to see any girl more than once, now only wanted to see Damaris. Nyla could not deny that she had some kind of appeal, and plus she did look so much like Carole. And like Gui, Jared Martel was stuck on Damaris.

But even while Nyla wondered what kind of je ne sais quoi Damaris possessed, she looked in the distance for Andres who she knew had to be nearby but she could not see him and it made her ache for him in her heart the way she did between her legs.

Now that they were lovers she felt him even when he was not with her. The first time they made love, they had waited so long. When he entered her, they were both still. The sensation of entering felt like maybe the high that a criminal got entering a place they did not belong. But the two of them did belong, and she grabbed his buttocks and he moved in and out of her. Her hips floated after him between thrusts inside her, like she did not want him to leave her body even that little bit.

Presently Nyla crossed her legs, and looked for Andres surreptitiously. Her heart and between her legs hungry for him…

*** ***

Damaris drank the brunch cocktail, which she was not even sure what juice it was for the mimosa. No, it was a Kir Royale. She had an appointment with Jared after, and all she could feel was the way her body vibrated when he called her beautiful. She shivered thinking about his sound, his touch.

Nyla mentioned him, and Damaris bit her tongue not to give herself away. She sipped her Kir Royale, and it was tasteless as she was only thinking about Jared.

Damn Jared!

He made her toes curl when she just thought about him, and not just about the sex. His limited communication was as intense as words. The way he looked at her, touched her and worshiped her in bed he did not have to say anything at all. He made her feel like no other man did and how could she forget that?

But he was a client, he was not an option. Not that she had not ever dabbled with that before, but that was not who she was now. She was trying to get her life together. Nyla even had to give her her due—she was her best girl. She worked hard, and she had worked hard with Jared why he made love to her—had sex with her–the way that he did. It was a perk of being good at what she did. Even though the thought of him touching her made her shiver again. She could barely eat or drink because anything she put in her mouth tasted like Jared. She could taste him, feel him—everything already. When Nyla mentioned him, Damaris hoped she did not see her look of lust…

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