Category Archives: meme

Masturbation Monday No. 45

I knew a girl named Nikki

I guess you could say she was a sex fiend

I met her in a hotel lobby

Masturbating with a magazine

–Darling Nikki by Prince

Sitting in the cab next to Gavin was the most arduous labor she had ever experienced in her entire life. He was semi-hard, his shirt ruffled almost crumpled over his belt. She had her head on his shoulder, and looked along his very tempting torso. The way his shirt crumpled made her think of a tissue that he might have used, to wipe the come after he had brought himself to satisfaction.

But neither of them had done that, they had not had time to do anything but run out of the hotel room. Nichy felt him put his arm about her hesitantly, and she knew it was not because he felt awkward expressing emotion. He must have felt like her. She would have been willing in the back of the taxi with him, she knew people did things like that and she never would have imagined doing it until right now with him. Instead she fell into his embrace, her head on his shoulder looking at his shirt and him getting harder.

When she first met Gavin, she was on the elevator with him heading to her interview with their company. It was her second interview, and even though she knew that was a good thing she was nervous. But seeing him took her out of her anxiety just like that. He was so good-looking, that she could not stop staring at him between rapid blinking. At one point, he looked at her with a smile, and she smiled back. When they got to the floor, she realized they were walking to the same office. He held the door for her, letting her walk past him. The heat and hardness of his body were tiny whispers, but she was not able to get her mind off of him after she got hired. All of her interactions with him were pleasant, if few because they did not work in the same department. He was always friendly and polite. Her crush on him mounted up to now, sitting next to him in this taxi. Before very recently she could only soothe the pressure from her lust, by going home and touching herself. The first time it happened in the office bathroom, she was not sure what more she could do. If she was going to spontaneously combust or what.

She closed her eyes on his shoulder, and he held her even closer to him. Nichy pressed her legs tight together, she knew if she kept just the right amount of pressure she would come and maybe she would be able to operate.

Gavin sat up suddenly, and put his hand on her thigh. She sat up with him, and looked out of the window. Her eyes darted toward his, when she felt his fingers roughly searching for the crotch of her underwear through her skirt.

When his fingers touched her, right at the core, she blinked and gasped. He rubbed her, and she looked at him. Was he going to make her come in the back of the taxi?

He stopped, put his arm about her and pressed his lips to her cheek before whispering in her ear.

“I saw you pressing your legs together, and I do not want you to come darling Nichy, until I make you come…”

Nichy felt a delicious tingle like currency run along her labia, and trill around her clit. She pressed her legs together again, and he hit her thigh playfully but sternly. Placing her head on his shoulder again, she reached for his crotch. Letting her fingers play along his shaft and balls, she found his head and teased him through his pants.

“Okay, you can’t either.”

Gavin smiled, and placed his hand over hers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Nichy looked out of the window again. There was not another place in the world that she would rather be than here. Because even with gratification delayed, she was with Gavin and that was more than enough for her.

More Masturbation Monday here:

filtered photo of a nyc taxi via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #162: Photo (of my legs)

Eliza’s fingers lingered on her lips. Sitting next to Oscar at the bar, her fingers remained still. She wanted to keep the warmth, wanted to keep the sensation…the sensation of his kiss there. She had forgotten, but now that he had kissed her again, she remembered every kiss they had ever had. This kiss was like their first kiss all over again, it was like meeting him all over again.And he wanted to forget her…

She closed the door of her hotel room behind her when she returned to it. Her eyes lingered on a photograph taken by Fiona, that she brought with her. She wondered if Fiona was lost in the deal? They had been through a lot together, she was her sister because she practically had been for so long. They had even managed to survive Shanghai, and everything it had detailed…

The photograph had been a gift after she was newly engaged to Rafe. It was a detail of a woman’s legs, with a necklace draped over her thighs that said, “oui.”

“Because you said yes to Rafe…” Fiona had said when she presented her with the photograph.

Eliza smiled when she saw that she had a missed call from Fiona, but did she know yet? It was the dead of night…

Pressing herself to the door, her fingers were still on her lips. When she moved them, it felt like Oscar kissed her again. That he had said that he kissed her because he wanted to forget kissing her…

She closed her eyes, but tears did not come. Tears had stopped coming, because she really did believe she had used up their well.

The soft knock on her room door was against her hip. Eliza knew it was Oscar, but she did not want to open the door. What would be on the other side of it but Oscar telling her he loved her, but not enough? It was too much for her to hear that from him again…

She turned and looked out into the hallway, and she saw Oscar’s face through the glass. He looked contrite, and the tears came back.

“Go away,” she mouthed against the door, pressing her forehead to it.

But she opened the door.

Before she was able to look up at his face, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. This time she remembered how to kiss him, she kissed him thoroughly. Eliza was filled with so much raw emotion: her last trip to Shanghai. Lying on his hotel bed alone, waiting for Oscar and he was with Polly. She did not ask about Polly, it was not her place to. Putting her hands over his, she kissed him because she needed to forget too…

She closed her eyes, and saw Fiona’s photograph behind them. The encircled oui on a chain, shone in her memory like the sun.

Oscar pushed her gently into the room, and closed the door behind him…
Marie decided to use this photo from my first Sinful Sunday ever, for this week’s prompt. See more leg stories here:

photo of my legs in the nypl by Exposing 40

Masturbation Monday No. 44

Nichy sat on the bed, with her hands behind her back. Gavin stood in front of her. She smiled softly, because she loved everything about him. His hands, the tiny slivers of moon that were his nails. His thighs, his feet, his hair, his teeth. She loved everything about him as it was revealed to her. Right now, she loved his eyelashes that she could see fluttering over his eyes. His eyes were the thing about him she loved the most, tied with the timbre of his voice.She lie back on the bed, and closed her eyes. He was right in front of her, and she sunk into the hotel bed thinking about all the times that she had been on her own bed like this: naked curled into fetal position after she had gotten herself beyond wet thinking about being in bed with Gavin. First she would caress herself, not even touching her clit and she would still be that wet. When she finally touched her clit, she would need more. One finger, two fingers, three…pretending all the time that it was Gavin. She came so hard, that she could barely breathe after.

The bed dipped beside her hip.

“You know, just because we are in a hotel room together does not mean that we have to make love, that we have to…”

Gavin said that quietly, so quietly she almost thought that she imagined it. Almost thought she imagined it, as she looked up at the ceiling that looked like floral cream-colored frosting.

She fished for his hand on the mattress, and caressed his finger when she felt it. Gavin wrapped his hand about hers. Nichy sat up and looked at him, she had been staring at the cream-colored ceiling for so long that Gavin looked cream-colored. They kissed and he tasted like frosting. She thought her imagination was that powerful, but remembered that they had both eaten red velvet cake in the restaurant. The best red velvet cake she had ever had in her entire life.

Or was everything right now, everything connected to this moment, going to be the best thing that she had ever had?

Gavin tasted like frosting, and she knew she was making the red velvet covers wet. When he caressed her hip and pulled up her dress feeling for her to see if she was still as wet as she had been in the elevator,

she was. More so.

“Still wet,” she said nibbling on his ear. His hand had moved up to her breast as she kissed his neck.

“You taste like red velvet cake.”

“Your dress looks like frosting,” he said breathily. “Take it off because I want to lick you.”

Nichy pulled her dress over her head.

“I want to lick you.”

Gavin started to pull at his belt, but she replaced his hands with hers. She unbuckled his belt, and pulled him out of his suit pants. Touching the tip of him, damp with pre-come.

“You are wet too…” She said reaching up behind her back to unhook her bra.

“You always wear such sexy underwear…” he breathed, his fingers inside the thin damp line of her crotch from where he had been playing with her.

Her bra dropped over his hands looking like decadent lace handcuffs against his wrists. He reached for her breasts, pressing his unshaven cheek to them. Nichy welcomed the roughness. She wanted it rough, needed it to be rough with him.

His teeth were gnawing on her nipple, when his phone rang. She recognized his ringtone. Gavin looked up at her, with a frown and misplaced desire.

“Nichy, I kind of have to take this call.”

Nichy held her breasts when he was not holding them anymore, and nodded.

He took the call in front of her which soothed her a bit, but the wild look in his eyes made her nervous.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can…”

Nichy studied him.

“Nichy, my cousin just went into labor. She lives downtown, and is going to the hospital. She’s a little early and her husband is on a business trip. She is all alone. I have to go, can you come with me?”

“Of course I will.”

“Nichy…”

Nichy smiled at him to let him know he did not have to say anything, and pulled her dress over her head again, looking up at the ceiling that looked like frosting. Then she pulled the dress over her head again, because she had not put on her bra. The bra now looked very much like the undergarments it was, and clearly not handcuffs. Because everything in the world kept Gavin from being with her for any prolonged period of time.

They walked out of the hotel room, and she could still taste the frosting on his lips as the doorman hailed a cab outside of the hotel for them.

More Masturbation Monday here:

frosting via duck duck go images

Sinful Sunday, Week 221: Chairs

More chairs here:

Wicked Wednesday #161 — Self-Image

He could smell her on the bedsheets. Rafe rubbed his face over the pillow, he had not changed the sheets since the last time he shared a bed with Eliza. He needed her scent to still have something of her.Neither one of them had tried to call the other. He knew she would not try to contact him, and he did not contact her because he knew she was hurt. She needed time, and he would give it to her.

When he started his relationship with her, he liked that she was bohemian. He had been raised very conservative, with all the trappings of an upper-class family. Fiona had managed to escape the expectations, she was the artist. A successful artist, but nonetheless not what their parents had planned for her. Rafe was the practical one, pursued the safe career in finance and did all of the things that his parents wanted him to do. His parents admired Fiona more than she knew, but they did love that he did all the things that they expected of him.

Eliza was like a diamond in the rough, and had changed for him. She had always changed for him. She became the art director of a major publication instead of being freelance artsy like she was when he met her, and she became polyamorous because it suited him.

Maybe because he had done everything else the way his parents wanted was why, he at least wanted his relationships to be what he wanted. He was a hedonist, he savored his pleasure with the women that he was involved with. But just because he was not monogamous, did not mean that he did not value the women he was with. He knew that the reason Eliza was upset was because he had gotten involved with Sandrine without telling her. It was wrong, but he and Sandrine had gotten close again. When it seemed like Sandrine had given up on him, it was too much for him to bear. He loved her, even though he was not with her, he loved her and would always love her. He called her and told her what had happened with Eliza, and she soothed him.

“We messed up cheri,” she told him, her French accent heavier from being in France. “We messed up, and we both hurt people we love. I hurt Marcus…but I know we will be okay. You and Eliza? Do you think that she will, that you will be okay?”

Rafe rubbed his unshaven cheek, unable to dwell on whether or not he would get her back. Whether she would come back of her own free will. His self-image was so tied up in being with Eliza, that he did not feel like a whole person now. He could smell her on the sheets, he smelled her everywhere really. She had only taken some of her things, there were reminders of her as he walked to the kitchen to make coffee. He was stabbed tinily with one of her pumps was on the way there. He cursed as the buzzer rang to the apartment. Hoping Eliza had forgotten her keys even though it made no sense, he pressed the buzzer.

Moments later looking at his sister, he was silent. Continued to go about making coffee, now for Fiona as well. The steam that came from the cup, looked like clouds in his coffee. Like an impending storm.

He gestured to Fiona which cup was hers, yet after he made the coffee he did not touch it. Just looked at the clouds of smoke gathering from it.

“How do you expect to get Eliza back if you look like you lost the battle already?”

Rafe shrugged, and knocked over his cup of coffee. The steaming hot liquid spilled all over his pants, and he did not even flinch. He hurt far worse on the inside.

He did not know how to be without her, Eliza would have told him to not leave the coffee on the edge of the counter like he did. Like he always did. The same way he always told her she could do anything that she did not think she could do. Because she was talented, she was talented, beautiful and smart. But mostly, she loved him the way he was. She never tried to change him. She changed for him, she was the chameleon in their relationship. He was the caveman, the one so set in his ways. He kept hurting her, because he did not know how to change and now she had forced change on him.

Without her was a change.

“Fiona, I really do not need your philosophizing right now. Just because you the one who is in stable relationship, does not mean that I want to hear you tell me what to do.”

“You mean you do not want me to tell you that you fucked up with Eliza as usual,” she said sipping her coffee. “But the good news is that she put up with this much from you, so you have a chance brother. You have a chance to get her back. But you have to put yourself together…for your own self-image you have to look like you think you have a fighting chance. Because some other man or woman will snatch her up. You are lucky I am with Alice, because you know I love Eliza…”

Rafe smelled coffee now instead of Eliza, as he pulled up a stool and stared at the gorgeous female version of himself and saw a reflection in the shiny appliances of his unkempt appearance. He was in a quandary, unsure what his next move was going to be. Spilled coffee mingled with Eliza’s scent, and he realized that he needed to get her back.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

coffee photograph with filter by f dot leonora

Masturbation Monday No. 43

The light returned to the city in smatterings. Manhattan was lit, but Brooklyn was not. Nichy and Gavin decided that they would split the cost of a hotel room and stay there until the light returned to their borough. There was a gorgeous boutique hotel that was tucked into a random corner of the West Side, that she had seen many times when she was in a cab. She immediately recommended it to Gavin, and he agreed while they were sitting together in the back of a taxi.

“It is almost like a horror movie what we are going through–No Escape from Manhattan!” she laughed.

“Do you want to escape from me?” Gavin asked her.

There was no need for a verbal response, when his hand rested on her thigh. She wrapped her arm about him, and shifted her legs over his lap to deepen their kiss.

She was breathless and flushed from kissing him, and because he insisted on paying for everything. The cab, the hotel which she began to hotly protest while they were in the lobby…but then he kissed her and she stopped.

“What kind of man would I be to make you pay for anything on our first date?”

“Gav–”

He kissed her again. Every time he kissed her the red velvet interior of the hotel lobby left her vision, like red velvets curtains on a stage coming down. She would open her eyes, and wonder what was going to come next.

“Are you hungry?” he asked holding her hand, and gesturing to the jewel-like restaurant that was also encased in red velvet.

She shook her head.

“Maybe after we get settled in our room?” she said.

Gavin squeezed her hand tight, and nodded.

The night before, everyone slept where they could find a place to sleep in their office. She and Gavin found a place together. Nichy had been draped over him like a blanket, and he was under her like a bed. His hard body was exactly what she needed to lull herself to sleep. She fell asleep easily in his arms, but he slept fitfully. Every time he shifted, he kissed her softly and caressed her face, neck…later drowsily her breasts. Then consciously, very consciously he caressed them.

Since touching her breasts was like touching her clitoris, the feeling of them being caressed, her nipples being tugged or inadvertently stimulated while he was fondling them made her shift against him. With her eyes closed tight, she squeezed her legs tighter then opened her eyes gasping when she came.

“Did you just come?” he whispered against the soft skin under her ear in the darkness of their corner of the office. He licked her there just beneath her earlobe. When he kissed her, she could taste the remnants of her perfume on his lips and tongue.

Nichy started panting softly now, as they got into the elevator. The hotel was called The Red Velvet, so the decor was everything was red velvet covered. The thickly-painted ceiling resembled cream cheese frosting, in a much more decorous way.

Gavin studied her face, as her head rolled against the plush red velvet interior of the elevator. She saw the look in his eyes, that unmistakable look that let her know he wanted her. She wondered what her face looked like to him. If he could see her naked lust as well. Neither one of them looked away, until they ended up on the top floor because neither of them pressed the button to their floor.

Nichy felt like she was walking into a dream, as they walked out toward the glass doors that led onto the roof. Putting her hands on the decorative cream-colored ledge, Nichy watched New York spread brightly before her. Because it was daytime. She knew that there were parts of the city that were still dark, that was why she was here with Gavin. He was not touching her, but she felt his presence and heat more than she felt the sun.

More Masturbation Monday here:

red velvet cake via duck duck go images cropped and filtered by f dot leonora

Wicked Wednesday #160 — Disability

Maybe because she was in a hotel room alone in New York was why…Eliza had been alone in hotels in Shanghai and Paris, and not felt like this. But being alone even in this plush boutique hotel room, reminded her of being alone in the hospital after the car accident. For the most part, she was never really alone after the accident. Most of her nights in the hospital and during her short-term disability leave, Rafe was with her. She had been very lucky to not have been more injured than she was, as it was she had been more injured than Rafe.

Things had been hard. The first time she saw her bruised face in the mirror, she had cried. She was so badly bruised, and had broken bones that had broken through her skin. Oscar had kissed her bruised hand, and she had fallen in love with him even more at that moment.

Love, she laughed bitterly as warm, salty tears covered her tongue.

She couldn’t sleep. She stood in the middle of the hotel room, in her dress that was mostly unbuttoned. Her breasts were bare, her nipples hard as she alternately flicked them. She was not aroused, she touched them like a lullaby to soothe herself.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let her fingers slip under the lace of her thigh highs. It was damn late, but she called Marcus all the same. He had led her down this rabbit hole, he should support her as she moved through it.

“Eliza?”

She wondered how accidentally she had really called the wrong number, as she heard Oscar’s lucid voice.

“I am sorry, I meant to…”

“Are you okay?”

Her eyes flooded with gold tears, gold reflecting the gold-colored room that she was in.

“Why do you care about me?”

There was silence.

“Why do you care?” she repeated. “I mean why do you still treat me like we are still together?”

She closed her eyes. This was the hotel where she had met Oscar when she was unsettled about her engagement to Rafe. Now that she had broken things off with Rafe, talking to Oscar felt like dejá-vü.

Like he should be there with her, but she knew that they were over.

“Where are you?”

“Oscar, I know you are with Polly now. I don’t want to–”

“Where are you?”

“Where we first met…”

“At the bar?”

“No, I am upstairs in one of the rooms.”

“I will meet you at the bar. Go wait for me.”
Eliza obediently sat at the bar waiting for him. She did not look as well put together as she had the first time he met her. He had kissed her bruised hands and bruised face in the hospitalq, she did not feel she had to knock herself out for him. Her hair was down about her shoulders, and all she had done was button up her dress. She had not put her bra back on, so her breasts jiggled as she tugged on the lace of her thigh highs to pull them up. Eliza felt them run, as she looked up and saw Oscar.

He sat on the stool beside her.

“You did not have to come…” she started.

“You act like I just stopped loving you, you act like nothing ever happened between us. I care about you Eliza. I will always care about you, and I know something is very wrong…”

“I left Rafe, I broke off the engagement. I am staying here.”

Oscar stared at her like she was speaking another language while she talked.

She stopped talking.

“And you are sure that you do not want to marry him?”

“He has made it very hard for me to stay, I can’t just forgive him this time. I changed for him you know? I lost you because of him, if I had met you and I was not with him…”

Oscar put his hand on her thigh, and she put her hand over his.

“This is like some crazy kind of dejá-vü. But we are not going to end up in bed, because you are with Polly…”

Eliza looked down at his hand on her thigh, she watched it slip just under the lace band of her thigh high because she had not buttoned her dress all the way. When she looked up at him, his hand was higher up on her thigh.

Their kiss was so sudden, her teeth hit his because she was surprised. She moaned low in pleasure, but the moan had the sound of pain. He pulled away from her mouth, and looked at her.

“I just needed once more to do that, just once more. So I can forget…”

“But now I remember…” Eliza said inside another kiss, her eyes filled with amber tears mirroring the amber bottles at the bar.

This was my soundtrack while writing this post: http://youtu.be/zMBTvuUlm98

More Wicked Wednesday here:

bar photograph with amelie filter by f dot leonora

Masturbation Monday No. 42

Her computer went off with a whoosh, Nichy was submerged in a pool of black. She remained calm, but she heard the panic about her and it unnerved her. The entire office was dark, the entire floor and the phones were not working. Outside was dark, It felt like something from The Twilight Zone. It always amazed Nichy how someone always managed to have a battery run radio for times like these, when no one really used them anymore.

The blackout was exclusive to New York City, and the cause had not been determined yet. The electric company was frantically working to restore it, but it was unclear when that would be. The city was at a standstill, the reporter stated with a bit of glee like if it was not real life but a movie.

It was past the end of the day, so her colleagues who lived in the city made the dark trek home in numbers. The rest of them who lived in the outside boroughs, were resigned to staying in the office. There was no alternative. The well-stocked company refrigerator was raided, because people felt the food would spoil anyway.

Nichy looked at her phone which had a very low signal. She was not hungry, as she wandered into her boss’s office. Outside was black, there were no streetlights through the large windows that she walked over to. Her face pressed to the glass, Nichy gasped.

“Are you scared?”

She recognized Gavin’s voice.

“Starting to get scared that I am not supposed to go on a date with you! Now natural disaster is preventing us!”

Gavin pulled her close, and kissed her. The sound of semi-panic in the hallway was drowned, as she chewed on his lip when he pulled away.

“I thought you were scared of me…”

He pressed her into the dark corner of her boss’s office. Her boss was out for the day which was why she had slipped in there. Gavin pressed her against the wall, and kissed her again. It was pitch black when she closed her eyes as she kissed him, as if she was blindfolded and all she could do was absorb him.

The blackout reminded her of 9/11, a random blackout awhile after that and Hurricane Sandy. She was not scared, but she remembered the anxiety and emptiness of those times. Being with Gavin made her feel alive in a way she had not then.

She could not keep her legs together because of the quivering of her labia when she looked at him, and when he kissed her…

Gavin closed the door behind her, and gasped for air from kissing when he pressed her to it.

“Are you still scared of me?” Nichy opened her eyes at his words, it was dark except for the brightness of his. She closed her eyes when they kissed again, and his hand moved from her jaw, slowly down her side until he reached the edge of her dress. Her hips were thrust toward him as a silent invitation, and her leg curled on the outside of his. His hand firmly gripped the very top of her thigh, before his finger slipped inside the damp crotch of her thong. It was only a bit of lace and cotton, but it was thoroughly damp. His finger sought every bit of her labia, as if it were a maze that her had to cover every part of. She undulated with every contour of his touch, her eyes flew open when he caressed her clitoris. Absently at first, and then with purpose. She bit her lip in an ugly way as his finger lingered in a particularly sensitive part of her, she sucked the light blood from her wound as she came. “Are you? Still scared that is?”

Nichy panted, as she shook her head.

“Are you hungry?” he changed his line of questioning.

Nichy laughed.

“For what?”

“I am hungry to be properly alone with you, but I meant for food. You know there will be nothing left if we don’t go soon…”

Nichy turned to grasp the doorknob.

“I am going to spend the night with you here princess, and I promise you…one day very properly…”

ahe kissed her neck.

She turned around to face him, he was haloed by the black city and stood as her bright light.
More Masturbation Monday here:

blacked out times square via duck duck go images

Wicked Wednesday #159 — Give a Dog a Bone

Eliza realized that if her eyes had been open, it would have been obvious to her that something was going on with Rafe. She had noticed that he was spending more time with his phone, but she suspected it was Severine, which they did not speak about. Because she was known about, she was not a secret. But Sandrine…She had always seen Sandrine as his gorgeous ex, and when she finally started not to…this.

When she walked into their apartment, she had not expected it would be so quick to bring the affair up, but give a dog a bone! Right there on his abandoned phone, was an incoming text from Sandrine. Eliza looked at her watch. It was three o’clock in the morning in Paris.

Rafe had a drink in his hand, and sauntered over to her. She could tell he had been drinking too much which was not usually his style. He kissed her, and handed her his drink to sip.

Which she threw in his face.

“You motherfucker!” she screamed, while he wiped his face.

He grabbed her shoulders roughly.

“That stung, what the–”

Moving out of his hold, she picked up his phone.

“The least you could do is not leave your phone out for me to see Sandrine is calling from Paris! But it is late, maybe it is an emergency!”

Eliza thrust the phone at him as if she wanted him to take it, then threw it across the room.

Rafe’s body slackened, and he leaned against the wall.

“Liza,” he called her like he did when he knew he really messed up. “I know I should have told you…”

“You should have told me that you never stopped with Sandrine? How long has this been going on? How long have you both been lying to me? Is that the way to your faithfulness? To be one of of your French girls? Mais oui?”

“Eliza, stop it! You are acting hysterical! Stop it! You know there was nothing after we got together, this is recent.”

He straightened up, and walked over to her.

“Don’t touch me!”

Eliza moved back, and kept moving back.

He followed her as she moved back, until she was in a corner where she crumpled. It all just got to her, and she slumped down the wall until she was crouched in the corner. She heaved violently, but tears would not even come.

She was so done, there was nothing left inside of her. The edge of her engagement ring was like a tiny knife as she caressed it.

Rafe got down on his knees beside her, though she jerked when he tried to embrace her. It was complete exhaustion why she let him hold her, and she heaved all the more.

They were completely silent, Rafe held her until her breathing became regular again which was a long time.

“Let’s go to bed. We can talk about this later. I’ll get you ready you don’t have to do anything, I’ll bathe you. I’ll get you some wine…”

His voice was disembodied in her head, as she caressed that tiny knife that was her engagement ring to her now.

“Let’s end this, that is what I will say in the morning too.”

The gentle force with which she took off her engagement ring, felt like a wish being granted. She put the ring on the floor beside her and got up.

Rafe looked completely sober now, his face stern.

“End us?”

“I am done Rafe, done! I am done with you!”

She went to walk past him, and he grabbed her.

“I’m not done with you, I messed up I know I always do but I have never been done with you. You don’t love me anymore?”

Eliza heard that question like glass shattering.

She realized that this ring that she left on the floor had caused her so much duress, that was how she met Oscar from the demands of that damn ring. Of being engaged to Rafe.

“I will tell your parents and Fiona, if you want me to. I will do whatever you need me to do, to make this easier.”

“You don’t love me anymore?”

“I will pack some stuff now, and then I will have movers come get the rest.”

“You don’t love me anymore?”

Eliza walked into their bedroom, and starting moving her things out of it. They were her things, but they smelled like him because she lived with him. She was not sure she would ever forget how he smelled, she was not sure she would.

“You don’t love me anymore?” he asked her that haunting question again, standing by the door watching her pack.

“I won’t be much longer,” she said.

She continued with her immediate stuff, and then picked up her suitcase.

“I’m done.”

“I’m not done with you…”

He blocked her from walking out of the bedroom.

“If you want to beat me up and make me stay here I cannot stop you,” Eliza said, looking up at him somberly. His hands or words could not batter her anymore than she already was battered.

“You are acting like you do not know me, like you do not know I love you…”

“I know you love me Rafe, and I love you but it does mean much anymore. It doesn’t mean much of anything anymore.”

She knew her words about him hitting her, would freeze him. He had never hit her, or done anything to harm her physically. But she was so wounded from everything, she needed to retreat. She needed to stop relying on love as a crutch because it wasn’t…

She needed to stand by herself now…

Sooner than she had expected, she was sitting sunken in the back of a taxi, and running an itinerary of places she run to.
More Wicked Wednesday here:

taxi via wikipedia with dreamstate filter added by f dot leonora

Kink of the Week — June 1-16: Anonymous Sex

I wrote something new for this KOTW post, but as I was finishing it up…completely out of the blue…a good friend reminded me that I wrote this piece. It was part of a blog swap with Kenny C. based on the photo accompanying it, so you might have read it on his blog. If not, here it is appearing for the first time on my own blog! You can read the post Kenny swapped me for here as well.

She had outdone herself. Her taste in men was always particularly bad: an assortment of overzealous creative types, addictive personalities, semi-abusive–she had been lucky to get out of that. And now, now, she smiled as the rain beat against the windows of the car and on its roof like a melody she must observe. Now she was heading to a motel to meet a man whose online darkness was sparkling. He told her he’d do things to her she would be ashamed she asked for. It was all part of the game. He said he could kill her. The rain blurred the image of the motel’s fluorescent lights, but she saw them nonetheless and was prepared to get out of the car. She had no desire to put her umbrella up, so she walked into the pouring rain. The sight of the car that he described let her know he was there, and her response to it was Pavlovian.

In the lobby of the motel, she saw a bride in a very smart suit and a suggestion of a veil about her head, holding hands tightly with her new husband. She rained rose petals everywhere she went, blood red rose petals.

Felice went to the counter, and asked for the keys, the number of the room she had to fumble through her messages from him to get. She did not know his name, so everything related to him was in a folder she marked with a capital ‘H.’

She took the keys and headed up the stairs, where she pressed her damp body to the wall and tried to breathe properly. Her heart raced quickly, as she clutched the keys in her tight fist so their jangling would stop jangling her mind.

There were rose petals leading to room number eight, because the bride had already walked by it. Not because there was anything romantic that was going to happen there. H. had told her that. As well as to arrive without makeup or perfume because he did not want any artifice about her. What she wore was her choice. A little black dress was her first thought. It was would be easy to remove, with her thickly seamed in the back thigh highs. She felt okay even without panties which he did not request, but she felt was right to do.

She opened the door, he jumped her which is what he told her he would do. His kiss was warm like he had extracted summer from the day before this rain. She loved the press of him so close to her.

Then he pushed her away.

“You are wet,” he said.

Felice burned up to her temples, ashamed that he knew just how wet she was and beads of perspiration formed there. Then she realized that she was wet from the rain, and he probably meant that.

“I did not put my umbrella up.”

She looked down on the floor and saw she had dragged in rose petals with her. He plucked one from her shoulder, she had no idea how one had gotten that far up.

The heat from his body could have set her on fire. He put his hand on her thigh and lifted her dress. She saw her legs bare in the mirror straight across the room.

“Nothing?” he questioned as he skimmed her bare bottom with his fingers.

“No, I thought you would like that best.”

He smiled which filled her with relief.

“You are very smart, aren’t you?”

Felice frowned when he said that. Being smart had been the bane of her existence. She had never been able to have her baser desires fulfilled because no one thought she would want them.

“I tried to be intuitive,” she said and he smacked her bottom which made her labia quiver.

Then he touched her there.

“Very wet.”

This time she knew that he was talking about between her legs, and she avoided his eyes.

He raised her chin to look up at him.

“I do not want you to look down, I want you to look at me and observe everything that we do to each other unflinchingly…”

His eyes lingered on hers, then he moved away. Felice felt a shiver when he did. Like he was the only source of heat in the room.

“Well take off your dress, didn’t your mother tell you to take off your wet clothes when you came in from the rain?”

She pulled off her dress, which did not have buttons or zippers to delay its removal. She hated that there was a mirror and she could see herself first naked except for her bra, and then completely naked.

“Sit down, you have time don’t you?”

Felice sat, between her legs was sticky wet. H. was dark online, and even more decadently so in person. Her excitement was at its peak, her nipples indicated it, she could see them in the mirror in the dim room.

Without thinking she walked over to the window, a soft release under her high heels was a rose petal she was sure. She looked at the red lights from the sign which made H. look like Lucifer as the light hit him. She saw in a flash Lucifer’s fingers.

“I can do every dark little thing you want now,” he said his hands about her neck, which pleased her.

She had told him all of her fantasies. He knew the things that she liked, there was no secret from him. Slumping into him, he stroked her spine, soft first then roughly. Every part of her body came to a dark life.

“Do you want to play?”

His fingers squeezed tighter about her neck, and she suddenly felt weak as everything went black.

More anonymous sex here…