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.”

More Masturbation Monday here:

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.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

vintage art via wikipedia

Masturbation Monday #150 — Kaleidoscope

Ben looked at Sabrina lazily, even caught red-handed—maybe because caught red-handed—and absently continued to stroke himself.Barefoot, Sabrina padded over to him. He looked up at her, and continued to caress himself–faster–a silent plea in his eyes. Reaching behind her back, she unbuttoned the top of her skirt, unzipped it and pulled it down her hips. Her movement was animalistic, as she turned her back to him and squatted. She grabbed his shaft from his hand, and slipped it into herself. Her eyes closed as he filled her. As she had wanted him to fill her all of this time. Her lazy and active daydreams were about Ben, wanting him inside of her. Sleep was impossible because naked under her sheets, she kept spreading her legs and using her fingers to simulate what she thought Ben would be like between them. And remembering what he looked like in his suit, and where she wanted to touch his body.

How often had she fallen asleep with her fingers inside of herself? And dreams that culminated in monsoonesque orgasms, that flooded her dreams and her awakening?

But now, Ben was in her–and it was not only her that had wanted this apparently. He clutched her tight around her waist, and pulled her to his hard chest. He was not happy with just her bottom bare on his lap, so he unbuttoned her blouse, and kneaded her breast with raw abandon until it voluntarily slipped out of her bra cup. He kneaded and thrust up into her, in tandem with her own movement. Sabrina’s eyes were first closed with bliss, and then she saw the reflection of their rutting bodies reflected in his all glass office from several angles over and over again, until it all blurred together like a kaleidoscope and she came so suddenly and sharply that she whistled out a startled gasp.

She pressed her hands on his thighs, saw their bodies still reflected throughout his office, and basked in their oneness.

For the moment.

More Masturbation Monday here:


kaleidoscope via wikipedia

Sinful Sunday, Week 327 — Skull


More Sinful Sunday here:

To Have…Guest Blogger Malin James Talk About Roadhouse Blues!!!

Malin James is a special friend, and as far as I am concerned (and as I tweeted yesterday), she is the gold standard as a writer, and more importantly as a human. I am honored to have her as my guest today, with a decadent post after my own heart to promote her new collection, Roadhouse Blues, with Go Deeper Press!!!


Thank you so much for having me, Ms. F! It’s a privilege and honor to be here! 

My collection of linked short stories, Roadhouse Blues, came out this week with Go Deeper Press, but I didn’t want to do a standard Please Buy My Book!!! promo post, (though if you’re at all inclined to by my book, please do – you won’t hear me complain). Don’t get me wrong, I’m damn proud of the collection, but I wanted to talk about it in a different way—one that taps into some of the aesthetics Ms. F and I share. So. Let’s talk about noir.

I love noir and classic films. I always wanted to include a noir story in Roadhouse Blues, but I wasn’t quite sure how or where a story like that would fit. Roadhouse Blues is set in Styx, a blue-collar, truck stop town in the middle of nowhere. It’s dusty and oppressive and the most glamorous thing around is the tabloid rack at the local Pak ‘n Buy. It’s about as far from a gritty urban jungle full of hard-nosed men and glossy, sinister dames as you can get.

I was about ten stories into drafting the collection and had pretty much decided to save the smoky, Sam Spade feeling for a different collection, when I started writing what would become the title story, “Roadhouse Blues.”

Roadhouse Blues” is one of a handful of stories set in Rowdy’s Roadhouse, the only strip club for miles. Mick, the protagonist, tends bar and keeps a general eye on things. At the start of the story, he’s getting over a messy divorce and has pretty much vowed never to get involved with anyone ever again, but that doesn’t mean he can’t text (and maybe sext) with a woman named Jett, whom he met on a classic film forum online. But when Jett comes to the roadhouse late one night, she upends Mick’s lonely intentions.

Jett is sultry and sassy and damn, can she crack wise. The woman walks around like she was filmed in black and white, but under the Lauren Bacall glamour, she needs to get away from a life that isn’t working, so she runs to the middle of nowhere, straight into Mick.

As soon as Mick saw her standing in the doorway, I knew I had my film noir story. A beautiful woman with a mysterious past, a good man worn down by life…. So, I stayed with it until it became clear that the whole point of the story was to get Mick from “of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine” to “here’s looking at you kid”. It just took a little rough sex to get him there.

While there are no crimes or gangsters or dead bodies in an alley, there’s a lot going on in “Roadhouse Blues” that directly references or pays homage to noir and classic film—the damaged characters with difficult pasts, the spikey chemistry, and yes, rough sex. More than anything, the rough sex. 

In a lot of noir and classic film, sex is a fade to black thing, but there are plenty of women getting slapped or dragged around in an implied sexual context. In the film and fiction from the ‘30’s, ‘40’s and 50’s, casual violence towards women is a window into the attitudes of the early 20th century. It’s an interesting historical snapshot, but not something I wanted to sexualize or glamorize in an erotic story in the 21st. Which is why I wrote the sex scene in “Roadhouse Blues” the way I did. As opposed to the standard trope of the femme fatale getting punished by a dominant man, Mick and Jett unequivocal equals—equals who just happen to want to slap each other around.

I like rough sex. I like it a lot, but only with the right partner. The chemistry has to be right for that kind of dynamic to work. Happily, the chemistry between Mick and Jett was right. I wanted to let consensual violence play out between two strong people, but if I was going to do that, it was important to establish the fact that they were meeting on equal ground. Mick spanks Jett, Jett decks Mick, but they do it in a way that is actively consensual, which let me dig into the dynamic to find the sweetness in the rough. I wanted to give the reader the sense that the night they spend together is full of joy for them.

Mick and Jett have a rare kind of chemistry. They naturally communicate through short hand, like the dialogue in To Have and Have Not or Double Indemnity. Because the connection they have is instinctual and highly tuned, they are able to do things that, with a different partner, would be off the table. Jett holds her own, and Mick trusts her to voice her boundaries. Jett, in turn, trusts Mick to respect them, which he instantly does. It’s an ideal version of how a dynamic like this could play out with two well-paired equals.

Unlike in noir films, when a man slaps a woman and sends her sprawling before a fade to black, Jett gives as good as she gets, and Mick falls for her because of it. I wanted to see how their dynamic would play out, especially with the ghost of black and white film underpinning the story. I wanted to see what would happen if Bogart and Bacall got a little rough with each other while they were falling in love. I didn’t think I’d have a chance to do that in this collection, but Mick and Jett surprised me, and I’m glad they did.

 

To read an excerpt from the story, “Roadhouse Blues” click here.

Are you swooning like me? Want more Malin? I am so happy to be part of her blog tour–here are the links to the rest of it!

The Go Deeper Press Launch Post

Interview with Xan West

Interview with Emmanuelle de Maupassant 

Review by Ella Dawson

Interview with Jade A. Waters

Review by Jo Henny Wolf

 

 

 

 

Wicked Wednesday #267 — Venus in Fur

Lila thought about Eliza and Terrence briefly, and with a smile on her lips as Rafe knelt at her feet.Rafe.

Margot had told her about Rafe, Margot was deeply in love with Rafe, and she had promised him a kink scene for their next date. She sat in the corner watching the two of them.

Lila smiled to herself.

Her day job was lucrative, but she worked as a freelance mistress in her free time because she wanted to, there was no need for it but that she wanted to.

So she did.

Rafe was not a regular, he was just playing, but she smiled as she put her foot on top of his back, wriggled her toes over his spine and laughed louder.

She knew Rafe from newspaper articles with him and Eliza.

Society’s couple…

Eliza who had a beautiful, obviously insatiable man like Rafe, and yet she needed Terrence. 

Terrence who made Lila wet just thinking about him, and yet she could not have him. 

But she could have her foot on top of Rafe, and it gave him more pleasure than Margot in the corner watching, and with Eliza not knowing that they shared her man..
More Wicked Wednesday here:


venus in fur via wicked wednesday

Masturbation Monday No. 149

Ben.Sabrina could not believe her panties were wet. Again. She did not even like panties, and normally went commando. But she got so wet when she was near Ben, that she had to wear something to make the inside of her thighs less slippery.

But there he was again, and she looked at every inch of him, desire damp and sticky between her legs. 

Ben was not going to be like Gavin. Life was too short, and she was not going to do that all over again.

She stood in Ben’s doorway. Her blouse and pencil skirt accentuated every bit of her, but did not cling. With a suggestion of a smile on her lips—but not wanting too seem smug, she watched Ben look at every…bit…of her.

“Did you need anything else Ben?” she questioned with mock innocence, adjusting her cat-eye framed glasses. She had gotten non-prescription ones, like the ones she had admired on Theodora.

“No, thank you Sabrina.” he replied.

“Well then, good night.”

She paused in the door for just a second, before she left. 

The click of her heels in the hallway was deafening. When she got to the very end, she bent and took off her shoes.

Barefoot, she walked back to his office. Several nights before, she had walked to his office with her incredibly high heels off and saw him…

Saw him sitting in the moonlight, the moon lighting his shaft, his hand around it and Sabrina wondered if he was thinking of her as he pleasured himself. His crisp suit handled recklessly as he pursued his pleasure, his shaft grew within his fist and when she saw him do that she grabbed the crotch of her dress and she smelled the dampness between her legs.

This night, she saw him again pumping his shaft and she was pretty sure it was her—it was too soon after she had left him.

“Ben?”
More Masturbation Monday here:


image via masturbation monday & molly’s daily kiss

Wicked Wednesday #266 — Bubbles

Eliza looked at the bubbles while they were thick, until they started to dissipate and all she could see was her skin under the water. Rafe had already checked on her, because she had not emerged from the bathroom for such a long time.

She couldn’t, she was not able to, her head was everywhere.

She knew that if she was with Terrence in person, that she was going to get caught up in being with him in the flesh.

Tell me about Lila, she had texted him.

The phone had hovered above the then thick bubbles of her bubble bath.

What about Lila?

Did you date her?

Lila? At the job?

Yeah.

The edge of the phone got bubbles on them, and she licked them off with her tongue. The soap taste was thick with sandalwood and ylang ylang, and she felt drowsy.

Did Lila tell you that?

Yeah, she told me that I was the other woman.

Eliza.

Terrence.

Eliza, why would you believe that she said to you?

You know, I am engaged, so you could be with her. The only thing is that it is her.

Eliza.

I mean, I have no right.

Eliza.

Terrence, I have no right to be mad.

Eliza, Lila and I…Lila wanted to get involved with me and I said no. I know she is the reason why I am not working there anymore, and now she is just being vengeful by telling you…telling you I was with her.

She is lying?

Of course she is lying! I cannot believe that you would believe her over me.

Terrence.

I mean you fired me, and now this?

Terrence…

She sunk into the tub. Bubbles went up her nose, and she realized her phone was by her side under the water.

Naked and dripping wth bubbles, she had packed her phone in some rice in the kitchen to make sure that it would be okay. She looked behind her, and saw her wet footprints in the hall.

She returned to the tub like a reverse phoenix.

Lowering herself into the ashes.

Wet phone, she would not be able to contact Terrence, and she was in a cliffhanger that she wanted to jump from…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

bubbles via wicked wednesday

Masturbation Monday No. 148/ KOTW — Fingering

“Sabrina? Are you listening?!”
Betty grabbed her wrist.
“Of course Bet!” Sabrina laughed, and covered Bet’s hand with her own.

Sabrina was proud of her recovery. Most of the time, she remembered—most of the time. She adjusted her glasses, and responded when people called her…Sabrina. Being Nichy had become a habit after all, so sometimes she slipped and her original name she had practically forgotten.

And, how could she have paid as much attention to whatever Betty was saying, when Ben’s thigh was so close to hers?

So close.

She squeezed Betty’s hand, as Betty finished her story which she assumed was funny because there was raucous laughter about her.

Including Ben’s.

Sabrina laughed on cue, and their shoulders touched.

She smelled the straight bourbon on his breath—she had mixed hers with tonic.

At her apartment, as soon as she closed the door and her eyes, she reached under her dress with one hand, and pulled her breasts out of the top of her dress with the other. With slit eyes, she remembered the mirror that was right there and saw herself exposed and touching herself.

She was so horny, it was sexy to see herself. She pulled at her nipples, and fingered herself vigorously. Sabrina could still feel Ben’s body heat along her side, and she got even wetter.

She heard it.

The mirror exposed everything to her, and she smiled as she got on her knees and crawled toward it. First she pressed her face to the glass, and then her nipples because now she fingered her back and her front. Her anus was damp with her come, and she used it to slip her finger in.

Her moan vibrated throughout her body, as she penetrated herself and moved at the pace of her fingers. Her nipples moved to and from the mirror, each hit feeling like ice, warming and then ice again.

Sabrina collapsed in a pile, her thong twisted between her her lips and her cheeks, her breasts caught in the elastic of her dress as her head hit the floor when she came.

Came, with a combination her hers and Nichy’s lusts…
More Masturbation Monday here:

More Kink of the Week here:


fingers via wikipedia

Guest Blogger Coffee and Kink Gives Us Smut-A-Thon!!!

I met Amy (Coffee and Kink), at Eroticon and I can tell you she does loves coffee and she is cute as a button in kitty ears! She is also ridiculously smart, and community conscious so when she came up with Smut-a-thon, I knew I wanted to support her. She is much better versed to discuss the nuts and bolts of this than me, so here she is!!!

We’re in the last few days before Smutathon 2017, and it’s Donation Drive time! Leonora has very kindly agreed to let me take over her blog briefly to tell you all about our sexy fundraiser. 

Sometimes, I have ideas in the middle of the night. They’re often fleeting and gone just as quickly as I realize they haven’t got the legs to work, or I haven’t got the time/energy/inclination to get them off the ground. Sometimes, though, an idea or a thought or a potential project grabs me by the heart, and won’t quite let me go until I put it into action. Starting a sex blog was one such idea. So was Smutathon.

 

Charities have always been important to me in both my personal and professional life, and I’ve been wanting to do something to give back to amazing pro-sex, anti-sexual-violence causes for ages. My first few ideas didn’t really take hold, but after I met my tribe (link: http://coffeeandkink.me/uncategorized/ten-things-i-took-home-from-eroticon/) at Eroticon, it suddenly came to me: a sponsored sex-writing marathon!


 

So what is Smutathon?

 

Smutathon is a 12-hour, intensive sex writing challenge. We will get together (some of us in person, some participating virtually from far-flung locations) on Saturday 1 July, and WRITE LIKE MAD THINGS from noon to midnight. Everyone has their own individual target and we’re asking our friends, readers and supporters to sponsor us as we try to hit them. Some of us are going to share our works-in-progress on our blogs, and we will all be tweeting along at #Smutathon2017.

 

What’s the charity? 

We’re splitting the money we raise equally between two amazing organizations:

1) Backlash UK: Backlash campaigns for sexual freedom for consenting adults and provides legal support for sexual minorities who are unfairly targeted by outdated and nonsensical “obscenity” laws. Among other things, they have been responsible for getting the ridiculous “tiger porn case” (look it up) struck down, and for campaigning to get amendments added to the Digital Economy Bill to make it less harmful to consenting adults engaging in safe and victimless fringe sexual practices. Pandora Blake and Myles Jackman are advocates, and key figures in Backlash’s work. 

2) Rape Crisis England & Wales: Stats suggest – conservatively – that 1 in 4 women and around 1 in 10 men will experience rape, assault or other form of sexual violence in their life. Rape Crisis is a feminist organization, that exists to promote the needs and rights of women and girls who have experienced sexual violence, to improve services to them and to work towards the elimination of sexual violence. Rape Crisis Centers are women-led, and offer a range of support, advocacy, counseling and information, and also have separate services for male survivors.

 

Why? 

The short answer: because freedom of sexual expression and freedom from sexual violence are human rights which are constantly under threat.

 

The long answer: Here. (Trigger warning for rape and intimate partner abuse.)

I want to get involved! What can I do?

If you’re a writer or budding writer, join us on the day! All you need to do is set yourself a target, put aside the time between noon and midnight on Saturday 1 July, and write, write, write! Don’t forget to share, and ask your friends and followers to sponsor you! If you let me know you’re taking part (DM @CoffeeAndKink on Twitter or email coffeeandkink69 (at) gmail (dot) com, I’ll add you into the group participants’ chat. 

Otherwise, please sponsor us! We’ve had gifts ranging from £5 to £100, and every single penny really does make a difference, so please do chip in whatever you can afford. Our JustGiving page is here

 You can also support us while buying quality sex toys by purchasing from My Delicate Touch, who have kindly sponsored Smutathon, and are giving 50% of profits from selected products to the fund. They also designed our beautiful graphics, some of which are included in this post.

Thank you for your support!


 

 

 

 

 

Biog:

Coffee & Kink (also known as Amy) is the alter-ego of a twenty-something queer British girl usually spotted bouncing around in kitty ears and drinking something caffeinated. She is a fiction writer, toy reviewer, sex geek, and an advocate for consent culture and pleasure-focused sex and relationships education. She blogs at http://coffeeandkink.me, tweets at @CoffeeAndKink, and can be supported at http://patreon.com/coffeeandkink.