Category Archives: meme

Masturbation Monday No. 154 — In the Shadows

Sabrina thought she saw a shadow, she was still learning her new apartment so she did not know all of its kinks or twists and turns.
But she knew…
“You keep thinking you can escape, and you do. All the other people Nusch you escape, but I always find you.”
Graham stared at her, and to her relief, he did not look menacing.
“What do you want me to say?” she asked with smug resign
He grabbed her elbow, and pulled her to him.
“When are you going to stop running…from me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself Graham–I left a lot when I left this time. A lot.”
“Because you are afraid of anything real? In life? In love? You think now because you have this sexy 1950s secretary thing going, that you are anything different? That you are not you?”
He caressed her tortoiseshell frames, and let his finger linger on her throat. Right by the hollow. He dipped his finger in there, and leaned into her.
“This is what I run from you know? This.”
She took his hand, and he manipulated her body so that she was pressed hard against him. In just her slip–bra slipped off when she came in–and a skimpy lace thong, she felt every nuance of his body against hers.
And she wanted him, despite any good judgment. It was sexy that he kept finding her, no matter how she tried to escape–her life or him.
He took off her glasses, which made no difference in her vision.
“What do you see? What do you see here Sabrina?” he mocked. “The next move is yours.”
Sabrina blinked uncontrollably. Her throat was parched, and her body was extra sensitive. Her nipples were hard against the silkiness of her slip, and between her legs tight with tension.
Without looking away from Graham, she caressed her nipples through her slip. Slowly and leisurely, like she had all day.
And like he was not there.
She pulled her breasts out of the suggested cups of her slip and pulled at her nipples while she slipped the slip up over her hips and pulled the damp crotch of her thong to the side.
Before she placed her fingers there, Graham took her hand.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked gruffly.
“Pleasuring myself.”
Sabrina rubbed herself against him to soften his stern face. He pulled her close, and slapped her backside hard. It almost pushed her over the edge, with the crotch of her thong digging into her and across her clit. She looked at Graham, and he smiled looking into her eyes.
“What am I going to do with you?

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silhouettes via wikipedia

Sinful Sunday, Week 331 — The Queen Bee

This week's Sinful Sunday is courtesy of adventures at the pop-up Bring Your O Game shop, starring the Queen Bee, brought to you by the lovely folks at Hot Octopuss!!!

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Wicked Wednesday #271 — Hotel (Reprint)

This week I am doing the Top Three for Wicked Wednesday!!! I thought since I cannot vote for myself, I would reprint my first Wicked. You can find my top three here:

Eliza was always waiting. As a younger woman with her friends in bars looking for Mr. Goodbar like the novel and movie she had read and seen. Now she was in the hotel bar waiting for her fiance. Curled protectively over her drink, she thought about all the things going on in her life, all at once at a pace she could barely control. Slowly, a man sat beside her at the crowded bar, everything about him was slow, measured including his smile at her. Eliza felt inside her as if everything had stilled in that moment.
She tried to be still, still curled over her drink. The man did not even seem to notice her after he smiled, which she felt was for the best as she stirred her drink aimlessly with the cutoff straw that was inside it. She crossed her legs, hooking her ankle so her legs seemed crossed twice.
“You’re engaged?”
Eliza’s lips had just touched the rim of her glass, as she looked up at him startled by his sudden speech.
“Yes,” she choked slightly even though she had not had a sip. Looking around nervously to avoid looking in the man’s eyes, she remembered she was waiting for her fiance conveniently.
“Looking for your fiance? He’s probably not going to come.”
“What do you mean?”
She was sure her eyes darkened like Rafe told her they did when she was mad at him. The stranger was taken off his game for a moment which pleased her.
“I mean I don’t think your fiance is going to come, and I think you are coming with me.”
He held her upper arm loosely, but his grip was firm nonetheless.
“My fiance–”
His finger on her mouth was soft, almost a caress, and she was lulled into silence. She knocked over her drink, and burned with embarrassment. When she looked up at the bartender, he waved her off and she got off the stool as she was being gestured to by this man who she did not know. Her heart was beating calmly, nothing about her was wild as he took her out of the bar.
They waited near the elevators, as he took out a pack of cigarettes. He offered her one, she shook her head but he kept the cigarettes extended until she took one.
“You are going to have a hard time with the obey part of the vows, aren’t you?”
“They do not have that in the vows anymore.”
“They should,” he said inhaling smoke.
Eliza raised her eyebrow at him as he lit a cigarette for her. She had stopped smoking a few years ago when she became domesticated, or rather when she started living with Rafe. But now the feeling of the cigarette in her mouth made her feel happy. Made her think of a time when she was free. It was almost as if she were that person again.
“You think so, huh?” she said blowing out her own cloud of smoke. “Does your wife obey you?”
He snorted.
“I’m not married. But if you vow to be with a man you should obey him, and he should protect you.”
Eliza inhaled and shook her head. She wondered if Rafe was looking for her now. It was a very dim thought in her head, she did not think it would be awful for him to wonder where his perfect fiancée was for a moment.
Perfect, perfect, that was what he said about her and what he expected. She did obey him, and he did protect her but it was hard to be perfect.
“My fiance is perfect,” Eliza said out loud what she was thinking.
“Then what are you doing out here with a stranger when he is looking for you?”
Shrugging and swinging her cigarette back with her arms, from her perfect black dress that Rafe loved her in so much, she declared.
“I am not perfect.”
He grabbed her and kissed her so hard she thought she would lose her breath. Her lips throbbed from his after he pulled away from her, and put his arm about her.
The elevator was right on time and they walked into it. It was mirrored all around and she could see every angle of their bodies.
He kissed her again, this time she was not out of breath but wanted more even as he gave it. When they pulled away this time, he lifted her chin so she looked up at him.
“Are you going to obey me?”
“I am not getting married to you,” she stuck out a her tongue with insouciance.
He pulled her close to him.
“But I will protect you if you do.”
“Protect me from what?” she questioned looking up into his eyes. He looked down at her without blinking.
“From what will happen if you don’t obey me.”
Her eyes fell to the floor, she felt him looking at her. When he tilted her chin to look up at him again, she tried to avoid his gaze, but he made her look.
“I have simple rules: no names, no questions, no guilt and you keep your ring on.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded then pressed her to the coolness of the mirrored wall, kissing her so that she almost believed she would go through the glass. Peeking for just a moment as they kissed at the overhead mirror to see how it looked to have him cover her. The view made her so wet she shifted her legs, so he pressed himself all the more to her. She moaned unexpectedly even to herself, as he kissed her neck which was always her weakness.
They came to his floor and managed not to look so disheveled, since she could see in the mirrored hallways. But in his room, he did not turn on the lights. There was just the light from the moon outside.
“No lights?”
She clapped her hand over her mouth.
No questions.
He took her hand from her mouth and kissed it. She did feel protected from herself when he did that, as if to say he was okay that she had forgotten for a moment.
He pulled her hands up over her head, and pulled her body closer than close to his. Eliza was on a tilt as if dangling from a puppeteer’s string, pressed herself to him and closed her eyes opening herself to the darkness. His mouth on hers was so divine she almost wanted to pull out all of her hair as he tugged at it, her hand rose tugging at her hair with his until he kissed her fingers after pulling her hand away.
Everything she experienced was going to be him: his hands, his mouth, his body. And he was much more gentle than she would have expected considering how brutish he came off at the bar and in front of the hotel smoking. She liked the smell of cigarette smoke on their clothes as they floated past her against the wall.
Against the wall he pounded into her, her head rolling and bobbing, knocking her into another reality. He held her so close she almost could not breathe, she closed her eyes and embraced this other world she was in where she was not perfect. A world in which her arms were tight around a man whose name she did not know, but whose savory scent she wanted to scrape with her teeth.
Because it would end, this would end…
They dressed in the moonlight, and he walked her back out into mirrored hallway, and into the mirrored elevator where she watched him cover her overhead in the mirror again with a kiss. The elevator opened and revealed the bar from a distance. Eliza walked out first, Rafe was standing facing the opposite way at the bar. She walked over to him with a spring in her step, knowing she was imperfect.

Masturbation Monday #153 — Smitten

Sabrina felt vulnerable at the office. It was not that she wanted Ben just for sex, but he was really sinking in. A quick glance at him at his desk, not realizing she was looking at him and just his face made her feel warm inside.
It was that feeling that caused her vulnerability and alarm. It was too quick, it was too quick for her to feel this attached…to want him this much.
She got up to go to the bathroom, and Betty smiled up at her.
By the time she got to the bathroom door, she could smell Betty’s perfume. Betty was her office bff, but she really wanted to be alone.
“So last night?” Betty started with her expressive wide eyes, and stretched her mouth equally wide to touch up the rich plum lipstick she wore. “I hooked up with Jeb in Marketing, and let’s just say…I had to reapply my lipstick a few times!”
Betty smiled at herself in the mirror, and shot her eyes quickly over to Sabrina.
“He’s hot,” Sabrina whistled.
“Well I wanted Ben, but well, we can’t all have Ben.”
Sabrina nodded.
“Don’t you think Ben is hot S.?”
“Sure, I never really looked at him like that because you know–he is my boss.”
“That never stopped anybody else, believe me. He had one girl try to give him a blow job–and he has a glass office! And rumor has it, the girl before you was sitting on his couch masturbating when he walked into the office one day. You are a rare bird, if you have not noticed that he is a hot piece.”
Betty kissed a piece of cotton candy pink tissue that she pulled out of her purse, and blotted her lips.
“I just can’t think of him that way Betty.”
“Well I can! I can think of Ben a lot of ways!”
Sabrina laughed despite herself, because Betty wriggled her eyebrows and looked like something out of an old screwball comedy.
Ben was that hot, and now that she knew that women had been throwing themselves at him before her…why was she the difference? Why had he wanted her?
This morning, he rolled on top of her, and looked into her eyes for a long time. She liked his eyes, she wanted to lick them like candy. But his eyes penetrated hers so hard, that it was like he was using them for intercourse.
To get into her.
And he was in.
Right after that, he reached down for her and between her upper thighs were sticky and she was wet higher up. Her legs were jarred in such a way, that he could always open them.
She was always open for him.
When she and Betty walked back to their desks, there was a gorgeous redhead in his office and Sabrina bit her lip wondering who she was.
She recognized that jealousy, and knew she was smitten. Her emotions stung her like a bee.

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bogey and bacall via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #270 — Bond

“Who was he?” Terrence had asked when he saw the look Eliza and Oscar exchanged in the stairwell, and now Eliza looked at Oscar.

They were at their favorite bar, and Josephine was still there when they got there.

“Long time no see,” she had mused while pouring them straight Laphroaig, the smokiness stayed in Eliza’s mouth as she eyed Oscar.

There was a bond between them–a forever bond–and she knew what he was thinking even without looking at him.

“You’re in love with him.” Oscar stated simply, taking a gulp of smoky Laphroaig.

Eliza wrapped her arms about herself.

She had been in love before, but Terrence was the first time that she was in love with someone, and so much of it was what she wanted. Not based on her expectations of what the other person wanted.

With Rafe, she was under so much pressure–that was how she met Oscar. But Terrence was Paris, and then coming back to New York and wanting him. Her want for him was so raw.

“It’s not like what it was like when you met me, with Rafe, you know?” she stated keeping one arm wrapped about her, and the other picking up her drink. “You were how I learned to love differently. Better.”

Oscar smiled.

“You taught me how to love too,” he said, smiled and picked up her hand to kiss it.

And she felt it, Oscar like always.

On her hand, between her legs.

Liquid lightning.

Because she loved him, and she would always love him.

But she was in love with Terrence…

“So yeah,” Eliza said, licking her lips and tasting Laphroaig on them. “I am in love with him.”

“And he is clearly in love with you. What man would not be in love with you?”

He leaned close, and closer, and his lips touched her cheek like they used to touch her lips.

 

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bond via wikipedia

 

 

Masturbation Monday No. 153 — Heat

Sabrina woke up in Ben’s apartment, and acclimated to his things and surroundings. She often woke up like that at her own apartment, because it was still fairly new to her as she had been living in the same apartment for awhile previously. Changing her life the way that she had, was oddly familiar.
Third time was a charm after all, wasn’t it?
And with Ben beside her, for a tiny moment, she fantasized about a life with him and maybe not having to run anymore. Could that always be the solution to run?
“You always look so pensive,” Ben mused, turning on his side, and smiling at her.
Sabrina smiled at him. She liked that about him, that he was intuitive and noticed her thoughts, that was why it had been so easy to start with him. They did not have to say much, that their eyes had not already said to each other. The way that they looked at each other when they met was enough, and by the time she sat on his lap there really was nothing that needed to be said.
At all.
Her eyes narrowed at him, as she cast her pensive eyes over his until they were both thinking the same thing.
Ben kissed her, that was all he did. His lips on hers: soft searching and…maybe pensive.
Sabrina’s body throbbed for him to be where she needed him to be, but she kissed him with complete abandon. Her lips said things she could never actually say to Ben, and her body talked to him in kind. Their combined heat was a dialogue.

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heat via wikipedia

Super Duper Guest Blogger Oleander Plume Brings Superstar Horatio Slice to Us in a Flash!!!

Horatio Slice is hot af! *Fans* When Oleander Plume asked me to be part of his blog tour, I was a groupie just like anybody else! And she wrote a sexy flash for me which I am going to post here, and at my Friday Flash blog. Oleander and Horatio are just badass like that, gotta spread the love!!!

 

It’s only rock and roll but I like it…

When I see his name on my calendar, I cringe. Horatio Slice. Just the name sets my teeth on edge. According to my editor, Patty Shane, this interview is top priority.

“Like him or not, the kid sells,” Patty says, “Have you seen the proofs of the cover photos? Sweet Jesus on the cross, Caleb, if I had a uterus, I would fill it with his baby.”

“Why the fuck do I have to meet with him in person? No one does that any more. I interviewed Bono over the phone just last week.”

Horatio Slice, Patty informs me, hates talking on the phone, something about a fear of being misquoted, which I think is bullshit. But, Patty signs my checks and I like to eat, so I reluctantly agree to meet with this new era rock god in his hotel room.

I think I’m prepared, until he answers the door. The dude is huge. Linebacker huge. He smiles and sticks out a hand.

“Wow, Caleb Wallace from Rolling Stone magazine, I feel like I’m dreaming, man.”

I don’t like the firm way he shakes my hand while staring into my eyes. It’s unnerving. The fucker. No one should be that good looking.

“Let’s get this over with,” I mumble, feeling like a dick when I notice the hurt expression on his face. “I mean, you’re probably sick of talking to reporters, right?”

The smile returns. “Yeah, maybe a little, but I can’t wait to talk to you. You’re Caleb Wallace.”

By now I’m thinking the kid is a little stoned. I follow him inside, and we both take a seat in the living room of his fancy suite. I set my mini tape recorder on the coffee table and press record.

“So, Horatio Slice, how goes the tour?”

“Amazing. Happy to be in New York, my home base.” He flips that long hair out of his eyes. “Hey, would you like a beer or something?” A glance at my recorder. “Sorry. You can edit that out, right?”

Yup. Stoned. “No worries,” I say with a force smile. “I understand you’re quite the sex symbol. What’s that like?” Glancing around the suite, I don’t see what I expect, namely women’s panties draped over every available surface.

His expression tightens. “I don’t consider myself a sex symbol. Just a musician.”

“Come on, dish me some dirt, Horatio. Strictly off the record.” He just stares at me. “I’m an old man, kid, let me live vicariously through you.”

After a long sigh, he says, “I thought you’d be different. I thought you’d want to talk about the music.”

The music. That’s the reason I became a rock journalist in the first place. When did I turn into such a jaded prick? “Let’s start over,” I say, rewinding the tape. “Let’s talk about the music.”

And we do. Minutes turn to hours. One beer turns into four. The conversation drifts from sixties acid rock to nineties grunge and all points in between. Somehow, we end up sitting next to each other on the couch. His knee touches mine and my balls tighten.

This is why I balked at the interview, I realize. I knew I’d want him, knew I’d want to touch those firm muscles and stroke that olive skin. Slide that zipper down and suck and suck and suck. Even at 40, I’m in shape, attractive even, but this guy is way out of my league.

And I hate accepting that.

But a few whiskey shots later, my dick tells my brain to fuck off. Something about the way he’s looking at me – lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded – makes me think he won’t mind if I slowly slide my fingers over his bulge.

“I want to suck it,” I say, enjoying the way his dick hardens beneath my touch.

“This is, like, the best interview ever,” he says.

The rumors are true. Horatio Slice has a behemoth between his legs. Erect and majestic. I lick the crown and the taste of him goes right to my head. Now starving for cock, I swallow that beast and suck with all I’m worth.

He likes to talk dirty. “Suck me with that hot mouth,” he says, fingers gently playing with my hair. “Then, I’ll blow you until you come. Or maybe I’ll let you fuck me. Would you like to fuck me?”

Like he even needs to ask.

Yes, you now have an all access pass to Oleander Plume's AMAZING new novel, with my friends at Go Deeper Press! I know I want a slice of Horatio Slice…sigh…

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Wicked Wednesday #269 — Titanic

Eliza did not even bother to turn around, she felt Terrence so close and could smell his scent. She backed away from the painting, and into his hard chest.
He put his hands about her shoulders, to brace her.
Something in her resisted, and accepted his embrace at the same time.
“Don’t resist…” he whispered.
Commanded.
And she could not resist, she could not resist at all.
“Sorry,” she whispered, as if she was sorry that she had bumped into him.
He pulled her closer to him, and Eliza looked around for Rafe.
He was nowhere to be seen.
She looked up at Terrence, and his eyes bore into hers.
Kissing him in the stairwell just happened. Her arms wrapped around him was like a fix, she felt euphoric and calm in an instant. His body pressed to hers was not close enough.
She wanted to be inside him, she felt like she was sinking more than she had ever sunk emotionally. Like an emotional Titanic–her fate was inevitable.
With him.
They kissed like addicts.
When the door to the stairwell opened, Eliza bit her lip from the sudden thrust of it. Terrence held her, as she looked to the offending door.
Oscar.
He stood there looking at her, and then at Terrence. Eliza swallowed.
It was so deja vu….

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titanic via wicked wednesday

Masturbation Monday No. 151 — Sticky

Sabrina sucked on the frame of her eyeglasses, and looked lasciviously in Ben’s direction. He did not look back at her, but the message he sent on her phone was so incendiary…she was pretty sure her pussy was on fire, but there was nothing to be alarmed about.
Ever since their first time together, work was the only time they were not touching each other, sexting each other or otherwise sexually entangled with each other.
Sabrina felt this time she was going to be direct as fuck. She was going to let Ben know she wanted him, whenever she wanted him. And Ben wanted her, and let her know in kind.
His goal was to make her come without touching her. She egged him on, and told him that it was impossible. But he had made her come more times than she could count, without touching her already. Now that he was on a mission, she was almost afraid!
Between her legs was raw from being touched and entered, but she could not stop. If Ben was not touching her, she touched herself wishing he was touching her.
She looked up again at him, and he stared intently at his computer. Sabrina looked at her own screen, where everything blurred together. Her focus was shot, as she slipped her fingers between her thighs under her desk. It was awkward, but it would have to make due.
First, she tickled her lips through her clothes, then she crossed her legs.
Tight.
Very tight.
Ben still was not looking at her, but the glint on his glasses in the sun did it. The tight flood between her legs made her gasp so loud that Betty turned to look at her.
“Are you okay S?” she smiled at her.
Maybe she was recreating what had happened before, but there was something about the way that Betty smiled at her…
“I am good B, just a sudden spasm.”
“Are you okay Sabrina? A spasm, where?”
Ben put his hand on her shoulder, and Sabrina looked absently at her computer screen again. Between her legs was sticky and wet, and she wanted to mingle fluids with him.
She looked up at him, still chewing on the handle of her glasses, with hooded lids.
“Oh, it was nothing.”

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sticky hibiscus via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #268 — Vintage Art

Eliza looked at her face in the mirror, she had tucked into the bathroom because instead of focusing on the vintage artwork she had come to see, she was hiding in the bathroom.

She knew that she might have seen Polly at the sale because it was art that Polly sold. She knew that she might see Oscar there, and she had not seen Oscar for a long time.

But Terrence was there, and she had not expected…

Her hand in Rafe’s was on fire, when she yanked it out of Rafe’s.

Her face was creased with concern in the bathroom mirror, and she used her fingers as if she could smooth it…

…and then Lila walked into the bathroom. Eliza wished that she could ignore her, and she looked down.

“Eliza?”

Eliza looked at Lila’s eyes through the mirror, stood up straight and walked back into dodge.

“You okay?”

Rafe took her hand, and kissed it. Eliza smiled at him, and walked over to the painting, and closed her eyes before she became mesmerized with the it. The woman had her eyes, as if she knew what Eliza was feeling. She stood closer to it, as close as she could without the guards telling her to move back.

Kissing close to the painting, she felt the heat of the glass from it, and saw her reflection, and then she saw Terrence.

She hated that she could not control herself around him. She hated the raw emotion she felt. She started at the painting of the woman, which was becoming like a doppelgänger to her.

The woman in the painting could feel her pain, Eliza even thought she saw the breast of the woman in the painting move.

She put her own hand over her chest, and closed her eyes. The eyes in the painting haunted her like her own.

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vintage art via wikipedia