Re-inspired by Charlie, I wrote a new sticky note post. Part of the inspiration, was the curved cut that is on my index finger. Below, my healing cut against my plum dress…
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Category Archives: meme
Wicked Wednesday #170 –Broken
Eliza rolled onto her side, her eyes still fixed on the screen. Marcus said Sandrine had been vague, but he needed to go home. She watched him put himself together again, while she stayed as she was. Ready to be devoured.
She closed her eyes when she heard her phone, figured it was Marcus calling to give her some more sweet nothings…
“Eliza?”
The sound of Rafe’s voice had startled her at first, but she ended up giving him the address of the hotel and her room number. Unlike Marcus, she had to get up to answer the door for him. She would have given him her card, it was so easy to fall into their usual pattern.
The Rafe she let into her room, was not the man she had been engaged to. He was gaunt, dark, and looked broken. Before she could say a word to him, he knelt at her feet. He caressed and kissed her calves and bare feet.
The moisture she felt was first her own tears as she watched him darkened by his demons, and what he thought she had done to him. And then she felt his tears on her feet. He whimpered, and sunk more to the carpet.
Eliza pressed her head to the wall, and let him hover. Her eyes closed, and her mouth trembled.
“Please get up,” she choked, sounding harsher than she wanted to.
He hugged her calves and kissed her feet once more, before he stood up. She had never seen him like this before. They had had fights, and had made up in dramatic ways…but this…
Looking up at him, was like looking up at an eclipsed sun. The love that she felt for him was eclipsed by everything that always happened with him.
“Eliza,” he croaked, his body sagging.
She was silent, but tightened his tie and his belt.
“You look like shit…” she said looking down, not wanting to look in his eyes. You never looked at an eclipse with your bare eyes.
“I feel like shit.” He put his hands over hers, adjusting his accessories.
Eliza dropped her hands, from touching any part of him.
She turned back to the bed to sit down, Rafe sat beside her. She knew he would, it was almost an invitation to him.
They sat beside each other, the familiarity of being with him was so easy to settle into again.
“I came over to bring you this.” He placed her engagement ring in her hand.
Eliza looked at her ring, it was like a magical amulet almost sticking to her palm.
Like it belonged there.
A Streetcar Named Desire was coming to an end on the television.
“I left the house this morning, and the only thing on my mind was to get this ring back to you and on your finger. I…I went to see Sandrine, because I have been such a fucking piece of shit since you left. It got too intense, I left her. I am always going to be friends with her, I am always going to love her…But I cannot live without you…”
“Did you fuck her?” she asked, as her fingers clawed at the bedspread.
“She went down on me and I let her, I had a weak moment…I hadn’t been touched since you left me…” He placed his hand on her thigh. “I miss you…”
It was then that she realized she could see how broken Rafe was, because she was saw her own reflection through him. She always saw herself through him. Her entire adult life, she saw herself through him.
He slipped his hand up her thigh, close to where she was broken the most…Eliza knew only he could make her whole right now, and collect the shards of her.
“I’m never going back…never…” Stella said at the end of A Streetcar Named Desire, while Eliza was going back to her familiar…
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fragonard postcard photo by f dot leonora
Masturbation Monday No. 52 (1st Anniversary Edition!)
Nichy curled on her side on the mattress, her eyes welled up with tears. She was ashamed that the tears came, but she could not help it. There was a maelstrom of emotion whirling around her…“I’m sorry Simi…” Dorian lie beside her, wiping the soft dampness from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed her lids, and Nichy felt more tears come when he said Simi. That was his short name for her, when she was still going by Simona.
“I never wanted to leave you,” Nichy whispered, her eyes closed. “I still cannot tell you why…but this was not the way to go about finding me. You terrified me for hours…” “I would never hurt you, you know that. I did something stupid, but I never would have hurt you…” Nichy smiled softly, as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I did not think you would…but you made me question that the longer you kept me…” Dorian ran his hand through her bedhead. He caressed it lovingly. Nicky felt his breath on her face, and heard the difference in his breathing letting her know he was aroused.
At what point of this could he not have been aroused? But the difference now was something in her needed to feel the Dorian she had known.
The Dorian she loved.
His breath was replaced by his lips on her cheeks, and then her mouth. Nichy did not resist, as he covered her with his weight and pinned her down like a butterfly with his kisses. She reached for him to anchor him, and felt his hardness against her. Pressing her hands to his chest, she kissed him softly before saying,
“Dorian, no…”
He rolled onto his back, and looked up at the ceiling. Nicky rolled over with him, sprawled over his chest.
“I said no because I don’t want to Dorian…to say no that is, but this is too much right now.” She kissed his bare chest where his shirt was unbuttoned. The feeling of his skin under her mouth, was as familiar to her as her own. She ran her fingers through his chest hair, her fingers slipping lower until her finger caressed the smooth skin of his navel. Dorian took her hand, as he ran his hands through her hair again, massaging her scalp which he knew was one of her hot spots.
When Gavin kissed her, and ran his hand through her hair even he noted that it was a hot spot.
Gavin…
She squirmed under Dorian’s touch.
“Dorian…” She started, but did not finish. How could she tell him she was thinking about what she was going to tell Gavin, when she had left him and not said a word and she still could not tell him why?
And aside from that with their bodies together and her squirming, she had touched his happy trail which she knew was his hot spot. She felt him hold in his stomach as he gasped, and he unbuckled his belt. Her body sagged with lust when she heard that sound. Dorian held her hand, but it was of its own volition that it sought that part of him that she had always craved like a fiend.
Nichy was fiendish now…
“Simi,” he gasped, as she caressed him and licked his chest. Dorian squeezed her hand. “No.”
Nichy moved her hand from inside of his pants, but she remained lying over his chest.
“I owe you…” he said after awhile. Nichy lifted up, and Dorian rolled her onto her back. Softly pushing her clothes away from her, he caressed her clit first with his fingers and then with his tongue. She twisted with pleasure at the potent combination of his soft tongue and rough stubble between her legs. Closing her legs about his shoulders, Nichy came so fast it scared her.
Panting heavily, Nichy was on her back with her legs still apart as if she was expecting more. “I am going to take you home now, I promised…” Dorian announced. The next couple of minutes with them getting dressed, and Dorian grabbing his car keys was like a dream to her. Was she dreaming? What the hell was this?
She had not been with anyone since Dorian, and sometimes she would dream she was with Gavin and he would end up having some feature of Dorian’s. Nichy figured it was because they had been together for such a long time…but now she wondered what if it was deeper than that…
He led her out into the ornate hotel hallway, and closed the room door behind them. Dorian turned to look at her, and caressed the curve of her lip. She sucked his fingertip without thinking, and the next thing she knew she was pressed against the wall. Her hip knocked into a vases with roses, the sweet scent of roses rose up to her.
Dorian pressed his body to hers, before he kissed her so thoroughly she panted even harder than when he made her come before.
“I am trying to redeem my gentleman card Nichy, please…let me do that. Because if I had you against this wall? There would be nothing gentlemanly about it…”
They looked at each other for a long moment, before he took her hand and led her into the elevator. Nichy leaned against her arms that were behind her back, and said nothing. It was better this way. She knew he was sorry, and her emotions right now was not stable enough. Especially since half of the reason why she was so riled up, was because of Gavin.
No sooner than he popped into her head, she walked out of the elevator and saw him standing by a vase with roses at the concierge desk.
And he saw her…and Dorian.
This is the first anniversary of Masturbation Monday, which I joined in on since Week 30. I had the lovely mastermind of this meme Kayla Lords over for some pre-celebration yesterday, and you can read this week’s stories here!
photo of roses by f dot leonora
Wicked Wednesday #169 — I don’t want realism, I want magic
“I don’t want realism, I want magic! Yes, yes, magic!”
Eliza was lying on her stomach, on her hotel bed in and out of sleep, watching A Streetcar
Named Desire.
She wanted magic too, she was desperate for it. When she first met Rafe, it was magical she had believed. Everything was magical up until the engagement. And then Oscar had been magical, and in ways maybe they both were. A kind of black magic that she had been naive about.
The door opened.
Her heart pounded and between her legs thumped, as she rolled onto her back on the mattress.
She had given Marcus her extra hotel key, even though she had not gone out for drinks with him, Elliott and Carla. Her intention was to give him time, time to decide if she was what he wanted. They had been playing such a sexy game until Rafe and Sandrine decided to play a game of their own without telling them. Eliza had to end the engagement, because it never ended with Rafe. There was always something or someone she did not know about with him. But meanwhile she ended her game with Marcus as well.
Marcus sat on the bed beside her, his suit still on him but everything of it begged to come off of him. His loosened tie, unbuckled belt…he fiddled with his cufflinks.
“How were the drinks?” Eliza asked, sounding to herself like Vivien Leigh as Blanche DuBois. She knew Marcus was mad that she had not gone with them, but she knew he would come back for her.
“I thought of you the whole damn time, and of fucking your heat with my fingers. I could still smell you on my fingers when I raised my drink, or had a cigarette!
She laughed and closed her eyes.
“You are not on set now Marcus, no need for the dramatics.”
Eliza was naked practically nin her negligee, the fabric of it felt like her own skin against her. Every part of her body was ripe for any part of his body to touch her hot skin. She really felt like she was on the fire that he said he wanted her to be on for him. Her legs were parted, and the flimsy material of her negligee that caressed the inside of her thighs made her squirm.
She squirmed more under Marcus, when he knelt on the bed with his arms were on either side of her.
Like the bars of a cage.
“You are not on a set either Eliza…” he said, his hot breath over her made her squirm even more.
“You are not on a set either, and you can stop playing the role that you have been playing. I can smell your heat you know? I know you are on fire, I know you are burning…” He paused and let his fingers slip under her negligee. “But I do not know if I am ready to put it out yet baby…”
Eliza was ashamed when she heard her own mewling under him, as he lifted up from over her. She had no intention of begging him, as she heard his belt buckle. Marcus caressed the curve of her neck. She was startled when his belt whipped forward out of the corner of her eye. He slipped the belt about her neck, tightening the loop about it like a leather aura that barely touched her skin. He let the strap of the belt fall between her breasts, and caressed her face like she was the most precious thing in the world. With his fingers inside the loop of his belt around her neck, he pressed his lips to her forehead. He kissed the wrinkles out of her forehead, the tip of her nose and then her mouth as her face relaxed.
Like magic.
Marcus pressed her close to his body, and she felt his desire ignite hers like a flame. Her body ruminated with a vibration she was not expecting, as she felt Marcus’ hand reach for his pocket where her hand rested.
“It’s Sandrine,” he said huskily.
Eliza knew he had to answer the phone, because they had children. Marcus had checked his phone frequently when they were in Paris. But right now? Eliza craved magic, she craved everything that she had wanted but did not have. She wanted magic, but it thwarted her pursuit every step of the way…
I love that Marie created this prompt based on a Twitter conversation that I had with Flutterby Flip, who encouraged me to watch A Streetcar Named Desire. I loved this quote so much from Blanche, I put it on my blog.
I love the marvelous and the magical!!!
More magic here:
i don’t want realism, i want magic via duck duck go images
Masturbation Monday No. 51
Nichy’s hand was in a tight fist, when she jerked awake. She settled into the curve of Dorian’s body with ease, her hand still between her legs and
she moved it as if she touched the edge of a hot stove.That was how she got in this position in the first place.
“What do you want cheri?” Dorian had asked her in a saccharine voice, when her hand wandered there the first time.
She had dug her nails into his hand, and bit him as a response. Nonplussed, he walked away from her. Then everything went dark around her, she groaned at first before she realized he had blindfolded her. There was a bit of light, so she could see shapes and that made her feel a little better. Her calmness in this situation frightened her. Maybe it was her stray hope that Dorian would not hurt her…
Her body curved into his, his arm was heavy over her. There was no way for her to move without moving him. His arm around her had nothing to do with closeness or intimacy, and everything to do with making sure that she did not move.
Where was she going to wander to when she did not know where she was and could barely see?
Nichy let her fingertips tap her labia lightly through her clothes. She had not stopped thinking about Gavin. What was he thinking about her, did he think she had had too much and left? Or did he realize there was something sinister? Did he still feel the heavy desire that she did? They had been playing such a sexy game without meaning to. Her fingers tapped even heavier through her clothes as she thought about him, and she bit the inside of her arm. She bit the same spot she had bitten, when Gavin was stealing pleasure from her before they left for the hospital.
But now that arm was bound to the bedpost. She was blindfolded and bound, but relatively calm. The stray hope that Dorian would not hurt her lingered, but her mind did wander to true crime programs she watched. It was always the people you knew…
Dorian shifted suddenly, and she stopped breathing. Being under his heaviness was familiar and strange to her, as he pressed himself to the back of her. His fingers brushed her loose arm, and goosebumps bloomed underneath his touch. Nichy was embarrassed that her hand was still between her legs, as he caressed her wrist. He kissed the back of her neck, and took her hand in his. She squirmed when his fingertips caressed her inadvertently, afraid he could feel the thumping between her legs. The agitated space she had been in with Gavin, came to a head as she struggled on her side with Dorian. If she struggled, she only succeeded in pressing against his erection.
“Nichy, you remember don’t you? You remember when you liked this, when you liked me?”
“I loved you Dorian…”
Nichy bit her lip, as she automatically corrected him. She had loved him very much, but it was not the time to rehash that emotion right now. Dorian let go of her hand, and she squirmed because she missed the heat of his hand on the top of her thighs. His fingers now brushed her tied arm, loosening her. She curled into fetal position, rubbing the tingling that filled her arm.
Saying she had loved him, made him freeze. Nichy felt the frostiness between them.
“I am taking you home Nichy, I don’t know what I thought I was doing forcing you to come here. If you loved me, what am I doing right now? I am taking you home.”
Nichy sat up, her arm warm as the blood flowed through it liberally again. She was excited to go home, but she was afraid that Dorian knew all too well what he had done. Being close to him again, smelling him, having him touch her made everything she had wanted to forget rush like the blood was rushing into her arm again.
Next week is the one year anniversary of Masturbation Monday, read more here!
detail of a goya blindfold via wikipedia
Sinful Sunday, Week 228: New York Conference
A new friend took this picture of me at BDSM Writers Con…which was held in New York City.
At dinner with an old friend…
Tied up during a session with Bastard Ropes…
More Sinful Sunday here…
Wicked Wednesday #168: Monogamy
“Are you crazy?!” Sandrine blurted out, when she opened the door and saw Rafe. “You know this is dangerous.”
It was the middle of the morning, she was just starting to sink back into being in New York again. Her son and daughter were at school, and she was thinking how her marriage had been a weird semblance of monogamy for her and Marcus for a long time.
Until Rafe and Eliza.
Marcus has wanted Eliza when she was not available, and she to be honest wanted Rafe whenever she saw him. That it had taken so long for her to fall into Rafe’s arms had been something of a miracle.
But the man who stood in front of her looked like a shadow of the one that she knew. Rate walked past her, and lit a cigarette. Moving like a robot, he sat on the couch in front of the huge flat screen television. Sandrine wondered if he saw his own reflection, because he shook like he had been spooked.
Sandrine knelt before him and placed her cheek on his lap, the smoke from his cigarette making her get up to get her own pack of cigarettes. Lighting her own, she sat back down at his feet.
They were quiet. Smoking. Her own reflection of the flat screen startled her as well.
“You look like shit,” she said. “I mean you sounded like shit on the phone, but you really look like shit. How long has it been now? Have you spoken to her?”
Rafe stood up suddenly, angrily. He picked up Marcus’ hat that had been left on the coffee table.
“I can smell her on his hat, your husband must be very happy now. He can have you, and Eliza…”
Sandrine stood up.
“You know that this mess was because we did not tell them, you know that. We should have said something. But I think you knew that Eliza would not have been happy that you wanted to be with me again. I know that you knew that…”
She saw brief recognition come into his face.
“You were not a dirty secret, don’t make this about you.”
Sandrine pressed her face to his chest.
“What am I supposed to feel like Rafe?” Her accent was heavier now, because she had been in France, and because she was suddenly enraged. “You wanted me, enough to lie to your fiancée and you had me. Now you want my pity because she left you? You need to make up your damn mind!”
“Do not make this about you Sandrine, I can’t deal with that right now!” Rafe said, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her and staring into her eyes.
“Are you going to hit me?” she asked, her eyes rolling from the way he shook her.
He stopped.
“You know I would never hurt you Sandrine…I have to go…”
She watched him walk away from her, but she could not let him go.
Grabbing him from behind, she startled when he turned to look at her. She had never seen him look so destitute as he did. He was a good-looking man, but he looked scrappily attended. Sandrine tugged on his collar, before she kissed his throat and licked the buttons of his shirt.
“Someone needs to take care of you…”
At his feet again, Sandrine licked the buckle of his belt.
“I told Marcus that I did not know what was going to happen between us, I told him I did not know if we would…”
She licked the metal of his belt buckle like it was her job, before she opened it. The taste of Rafe’s flesh replaced the flavor of metal in her mouth. She sucked up all of the warmth of his flesh, her fingers digging into his tense backside. Sandrine knew he was conflicted, but she was not as he came in her mouth and she swallowed his come like an elixir.
More Wicked Wednesday here:
blurry photo taken out of a jack vettriano book by f dot leonora
Masturbation Monday No. 50
It was only a few hours, but it felt like it had been days. Nichy was on her side, exhausted, but afraid to fall asleep in front of Dorian. His eyes were heavy, but he watched her cautiously as well. She turned on her side, and stared up at the high ceiling.“I could let you go right now,” he said, his voice penetrated into her drifting thoughts.
It was hard to see Dorian again. He said that she just left, but she had no choice. She had had to leave, and change everything about her life for their safety. Dorian had the means to find her obviously, but she had hoped that she had time. And she had, and she had met Gavin. The heaviness in her heart when she thought about Gavin…She had been reckless to want him. Now he was another man that she had had to abandon against her will…
Her eyes closed tightly at her harrowing memories, before her damp eyes returned to the ceiling.
Nichy was silent, waiting for Dorian to finish his musing. Let him speak, let him be the one who made the decision of whether to let her go or not.
“I could let you go Simona, but I do not know that you will not tell on me. I can’t let you go, because you might call the police.”
“I might,” she said emptily. “I might just call them.”
The weight of his body circled hers on the floor, as he got up from his seated surveillance. She had baited him, it was wrong, but she was not going to be the girl who groveled and promised that she would not tell. She was not going to beg him anymore, than she already had this past few hours. When they were together, she had only ever begged him for pleasure.
“So I cannot let you go then,” His voice was disembodied, as he spoke facing away from her.
Nichy did not know who he was anymore, but she could say the same for him. He knew Simona: who she was before she changed her name and left everything. He did not know who Nichy was, except that she was not going to beg him for her freedom.
When they were Simona and Dorian, she knew that he had an edge. She had loved that edge, loved about him that he could be like the edge of the sharpest blade. And moments later, so tender with her that it made her weep.
With pleasure.
She remembered in bed, him covering her with his body when she was turned away from him like she just did on this floor. He would cover her mouth with one hand, caress her stomach with the other and cup her between the legs with ownership. Playing her like an instrument of music or destruction. She was not sure which, but she moved against his cupped hand as he made her so sloppy wet he could barely keep his grip on her. Too wet for him to stroke her to come.
But he did.
Nichy did not realize her hand had involuntary cupped between her upper thighs. She closed her eyes as Dorian paused in front of her, and stopped breathing for a moment. As if he would not see her if she was not breathing. His feet grazed the outline of her body, before he bent to look in her now open eyes.
Chuckling darkly, he took her hand from between her legs.
“What do you want cheri?”
You want more Masturbation Monday right cheri? More here!
may ray via google images
Sinful Sunday, Week 227: More Stairs
This week, I had Exposing 40 and Malin James in mind…
More Sinful Sunday here:
Wicked Wednesday #167: Ferrari
Carla was very happy when she was having drinks with Marcus and Elliott alone. It was obvious that Marcus had a thing for Eliza, even before she saw them kissing.
Even before she saw Elliot watching them kiss secretly.
Marcus looked at her now, with her thighs pressed to Elliott’s. He teased her with his eyes because Elliott was not available to her, but he could never understand the connection that she had with Elliott.
Her current stardom was a far cry from her not so distant past.
She had run away from an abusive boyfriend, and moved to New York. Even her life savings was not enough for her time there, and she ended up on the streets, asking people for money. One day, a man dropped a bouquet of roses at her feet, and knelt down to her to tell her how beautiful she was. Being on the street had encouraged her not to show her emotions. But when she looked down at her roses when the man walked away, her warm tears scalded her already warm skin. She pressed her head to her knees, so no one would see her cry.
When she looked back up, she saw a Ferrari out of the corner of her eye. It was the man who had just given her the bouquet of roses. The man who had knelt before her in his three-piece suit, and called her beautiful.
Elliott.
Carla was in such a bad place when she met him, that he did not need to convince her that he was legit. That he had all it would take to make her a star. She thought she would need to sleep with him to pay him back for everything he did for her.
Including letting her live with him.
What was she supposed to think when he asked her to live with him? He was beautiful and nothing but a gentleman to her, with a sparkle in his eye that made her unthink everything she had ever thought about men in suits…Her ex had worn suits every day. Carla had paid him back for everything he had ever done for her, in more ways than she would ever have believed.
So when she crawled into Elliott’s bed to wake him up with a blow job, Carla was startled when he caressed her face softly and pulled himself out of her mouth.
“Darling, your mouth feels divine, but no…”
She caressed his stomach, and looked up at him from between his thighs.
“You are beautiful, I want to show you how appreciative I am for everything that you have done for me Elliott.”
He caressed her face even softer, as he sat up.
“You’re beautiful too Carla, and if I liked women, I would have been all over you by now…”
Carla stared at him with a smirk, the taste of him still fresh on her tongue. She licked her lips to savor the taste of him there as well.
Only Elliott could have handled that situation in such a classy way. They slept together chastely that night, and she loved him even more since then. She wanted nothing but the best for him, because he was the best as far as she was concerned. Sometimes she was struck by his beauty, but she loved him and he loved her in a much deeper way.
Her legs crossed at the bar, she caressed the bouquet of roses that Elliot had brought to her dressing room earlier. He got her roses all the time for non-occasions. Their thighs were pressed together, Carla felt the tension on his where she rested her hand as they looked at Marcus.
“I have to take this call, it’s Sandrine…”
Marcus walked away.
“You still love him…” Carla said aloud, before she realized Elliott could hear her.
Elliott looked at her, cradling his scotch.
“Don’t Carl,” he said, calling her the masculine diminutive he used to be gentle because she had touched a nerve. “Besides we would fight each other for him, wouldn’t we?”
Carla took his scotch from him and took a sip, so she could feel the liquid fire inside of her.
More hot rods here:
photo by f dot leonora