Retro: Full Circle

This retro post is a perfect example of all the complexities of Eliza’s relationships…

Eliza was happy that she was going to meet Rafe at his sister’s gallery opening. Meeting him there, she could blame her state of mind on jetlag and not having eaten. Quickly leaving her luggage at the coat check, she had barely walked into the space before she was handed a glass of champagne she gladly accepted.

“Eliza!”

Fiona rushed to hug her. Eliza enjoyed the genuine warmth from her sister-in-law-to-be. Fiona was the artist her parents had not expected to have in the family, and the reason why they and Rafe tried to mold Eliza into the daughter they had really wanted.

She was perfect by their standards and Rafe’s.

Her husband-to-be stood behind his sister, his appraisal of her was appreciative and she felt placated. Her back in New York dress was one Rafe had selected himself. As soon as Fiona let her go, Rafe moved forward, caressed her hip and took her in his arms.

“I missed you,” he breathed behind her ear. She smiled more so because she was ticklish there as opposed to returning the sentiment.

She was not unhappy to see Rafe, but it was not as easy this time to leave Oscar…

Oscar, she whispered his name over and over in her head since she learned it, saying it to herself when she thought about him which was often.

Paris had been Oscar and Eliza. Oscar was in Shanghai now without her, and she was in New York with Rafe. She looked up at Rafe, into his eyes that studied her as if he was making sure there was nothing different about her. He closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Later when they were alone, she knew that the darkness in those eyes was going to be her very sensuous reality and she was very eager for that. To learn him again, her hands pressed to the expanse of his wide chest before she buried her face there. His lips were on the top of her head, as he caressed her face and pushed her hair away from her cheek.

Her eyes were glazed as she stared at the Francesca Woodmanesque photos that Fiona had filled the gallery with. It was clear that Woodman was an influence on her, Fiona’s work was a happier expression of that style. Champagne and delicacies flowed about them, as they strolled through the gallery.

“Fiona, this is gorgeous,” Eliza said, still in Rafe’s embrace.

“You always know the right thing to say,” Rafe whispered to her after his sister walked away.

The sepia photos were lovely, and Fiona was young, fearless and not afraid to use her body as an instrument.

Eliza wished that she had that kind of confidence.

Rafe’s parents appeared around a gallery corner and kissed her before they kissed their own daughter. Eliza had that kind of relationship with his parents. She had now come full circle from her accidental transgression.

This was where she belonged.

“How was Paris?” Rafe’s mother asked her beaming.

“Paris is Paris!” she exclaimed brightly, as Rafe squeezed her.

“It was more lovely while you were there,” he said.

She closed her eyes as Rafe kissed the tip of her nose. His mother continued beaming,

“You lovebirds! Let’s go have dinner, we have reservations close by…”

Dinner was pleasant talk about Paris reinvented by Eliza without mention of Oscar. Fiona was silent all throughout, having expressed dismay at her show.

“It was a lovely show Fiona, I am not sure why you are so miserable,” her mother said to her.

“I need inspiration Mother. Everything I am doing seems so homogeneous…”

“So you are saying you have come full circle with your art?” her father asked.

“You want to travel again?” Rafe asked with weak patience for his younger sister.

Fiona played with the gooey chocolate cake she had ordered, not looking at anyone at the table.

“I have only really ever gotten grants to work in Europe. There is a grant I could get in Shanghai…Eliza, you speak some Mandarin don’t you?’

Eliza choked.

“Yes, I can write a bit too.”
“You said you wanted to go somewhere exciting for your next vacation. Maybe if Rafe will loan you to me, we could go to Shanghai I want to visit anyway. I have a friend there who is an artist, and the scene there is kind of ambitious and if one of us speaks the language…”

“Of course Rafe will loan Eliza to you Fiona,” Rafe’s mother eyed Rafe and Eliza strongly which Fiona could not see because she was sitting next to her.

Rafe and Eliza were silent. She was going to be the obedient faux daughter, and go to Shanghai with Fiona.

Oscar, she almost said out loud, but caught herself as she exhaled a whoosh of air to disguise the sound of his name.

Home later with Rafe, he took off his tie.

“This would be the second place that I cannot come with you. Paris, now Shanghai…”

He held his tie, and opened his shirt.

“I can still say no,” she said walking over to him, putting her hands on his chest.

She wanted him to tell her no, wanted him to tell her not to go. She would have listened.

His dark eyes appraised her.

“I cannot disappoint my parents, they will not let Fiona go without you, and that means Fiona will go however she has to. We are a family, sometimes we have to make sacrifices…”

She nodded, looking down, he raised her chin so she looked up at him and kissed her.

“She can borrow you, but you are mine. My perfect girl…”
Eliza looked up at the cracks on the ceiling, moaning as he kissed her and again on a deep whoosh of exhaled breath, she hid the name she almost moaned and thought of Shanghai…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Damaris in Paris

The nice part of Paris was that Damaris never felt alone, when Jared was not with her. Carole was even with her sometimes, she had been in Paris with her sister so many times. It was a magical place for them.

A sexy place.

Gui never told anyone that the two of them had met before her sister died. Damaris was always someone’s little dirty secret, after all there was what had happened with Harry…

Suddenly she was cloaked in the shadows of her past life. She had to take a deep breath, and wondered if she was feeling regularly anxious or if she was having an anxiety attack.

Or just remembering what had happened with Harry. She had slept with him willingly, and he had seemed to care about her at first…

She covered her eyes with her hands, and when she looked up she saw Jared. He was waiting where he had said he would be waiting for her.

“You okay?” he asked, and put his arm about her.

She nodded, but she did not mean it and felt disoriented.

He took her to a place where the spoken French swirled around them.

Jared said he wanted to be a voyeur with her, he wanted to just look.

With her.

As soon as they walked into the lounge there was a couple in a sixty-nine position. Her ass was spread over his face, and he licked her like she was the best inverted cone he had ever had, while she alternately kissed and licked his shaft reverently.

When they walked deeper in, there were two elegantly dressed men with tuxedos and tails, with their pants around their ankles revealing sock garters, kissing with a seeming thirst they could not quench.

Two women dressed equally as elegantly kissed as well, their hands under each other’s dresses so their garters were revealed. Within sometime, the couples swapped.

Damaris was literally throbbing between her legs, the sensory overload from watching was almost unbearable but too sweet to deny.

She had told Jared she liked to watch. Damaris remembered the mirrored room in their hotel where she and her sister had entertained Gui.

Two for the price of one. But Carole fell in love with him, and everything changed..

Damaris’ life had changed so much since Carole died. Her eyes blurred out the sexy scenes before her with liquid grief…

More Masturbation Monday here:

paris via wikipedia

Whenever I Call You Friend

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

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

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

…because of her baby.

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

When she saw Oscar through the peephole, she swallowed.

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

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

Her eyes were warm when she looked at him,

“Do you want some coffee?”

He shook his head,

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

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

More Wicked Wednesday here:

friendship via wikipedia

Striped via @May_Matters

Damaris was dangling from the bed in only her fancy striped tights and nothing else. Paris had been amazing so far—even more amazing than she remembered it from the countless times she had been there before.

The striped tights came from the store near their hotel–Damaris was surprising Jared because when she looked at his phone she accidentally saw a candid photo of herself that he had taken of her. He was scrolling randomly, but she recognized herself. She did not know he was taking photos of her, so she decided to surprise him when he walked into their hotel room.

“Damaris porn,” he said as he loosened his tie, knelt and gathered her breasts with his hands upon seeing her sprawled on the king-size bed.

She sighed deeply from his touch. He knew exactly how to touch her, their time in Paris made them intimate in ways she had not expected at all. In New York she felt something different with him, but in Paris together all of the time she got to know things about him that she did not know.

How she discovered that he took secret photos of her legs…

Jared pressed her breasts together, kneaded them and Damaris moaned with the pleasure from the release of it. He caressed her nipples, and she was so tight between her legs she thought she would burst.

Fully dressed in his suit, he lie alongside her—his head at her feet. Damaris saw the bulge in his pants, and caressed his calves absently. He rubbed her feet, and it felt nice. She closed her eyes and moved into his touch, her body felt fluid from when he massaged her breasts but now even more so. It was like she was melting, as he caressed her foot.

But it was while he had her pinky toe in his hand that Damaris felt a rush of pleasure much further up than just at her toes. Her toes curled as Jared massaged her ankle and pinky toe in tandem, making her feel like she wanted to come. She was capable of nipple orgasms—but a foot orgasm? Even as she pooh poohed the idea, that was just what happened. The flood of sensation that went up to her groin finally exploded and she buried her face in his calves as she came. Jared rubbed his cheek against the sole of her foot, and she gasped as she had aftershock pleasure from her orgasm.

Damaris was limp as a noodle, and wondered what more this man was going to take from her and how much more would she willingly give to him?

More Masturbation Monday here:

sexy legs via May More

Bunny

Rafe looked at the pictures of Chloe on the cover of her funeral program–it looked like a picture he would have taken of her when they went away together. She looked so vivacious and full of life.

The body that he viewed looked beautiful but lacked her life and vivaciousness. Eliza held his hand while they stood together at her coffin.

“You caused her death!” Sally screamed suddenly, and Rafe turned around to look at her. Oscar was sitting next to Sally, and held her close to him but she continued to scream. “She was talking about you before she died! Her head was all filled with you! You!”

Rafe looked down at Chloe once more, and then with Eliza they walked to her pew.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Rafe stated simply.

“You killed my daughter!!!” Sally pummeled her fists against his chest, and all Rafe could do was take it. Oscar pulled Sally away from him, and Eliza said,

“Stop it Sally, this not the way to say goodbye to your daughter.”

Sally stopped punching Rafe to stare coldly at Eliza.

“Both of you get out of here.” Eliza looked at Rafe and nodded.

The walked down the hall in the chapel. Others from a nearby funeral looked at them.

Rafe still felt Sally pounding his chest when he and Eliza got into their car. Eliza held his hand, and he closed his eyes. Lifeless Chloe stayed with him. He remembered her scampering away like a bunny after they skinny dipped. Her bright eyes filled with what he now knew was love.

He squeezed Eliza’s hand as they sat in the car. He wanted her away from Sally for sure. Sally would have lost her mind if she had seen Eliza—really seen Eliza–who was not really showing yet but there was a slight curve about her stomach. Their baby was barely visible but there, and he did not want Sally to injure the mother of his unborn child.

***

Oscar sat next to Sally. They were reunited in grief, but it was still such a hard time being with her post Chloe when all he thought in his head like a mantra was Bunny, Bunny, Bunny. He used to call Chloe Bunny as a pet name, and now she was lying in the coffin that he and Sally stared at long after the funeral director closed it.

Death was so final, the opposite of birth.

Birth, he swallowed hard as he thought it. Eliza looked so different, even if she had not told him she was pregnant he would have been able to guess there was something new about her. He knew her that intimately. It was not his baby, she assured him why she told him right away and calmly so there was no confusion.

“Besides, I am Rafe’s wife and he said any baby I have is his baby.”

Oscar swallowed hard again.

He lost Chloe and the chance to be a father within a week, he felt like a walking void. This swap of partners with Eliza had been a black hole.

More Wicked Wednesday here, more Friday Flash here:

Pursuit via @purplesgem1

This is inspired a lot by Sylvia Plath’s poem “Pursuit”–the bold italicized sections are from that. Purple’s Gem’s image is magic too!

There is a panther stalks me down:

One day I’ll have my death of him;

His greed has set the woods aflame,

He prowls more lordly than the sun.

He was relentless.

It was exactly like fragments of Sylvia Plath’s “Pursuit.”

He stalked her down.

She left the fancy apartment on Fifth Avenue and she saw the car—she knew that car. How was he there? Why was he there?

She knew why.

I hurl my heart to halt his pace,

To quench his thirst I squander blood;

He eats, and still his need seeks food,

Compels a total sacrifice.

She tried to pretend she did not see him, but like a Black Maria approaching–she could not deny her fate. Cara was not strong enough when he got out of the car.

“Cara Mia,” he said, getting out of the car.

Cara froze—she was afraid to move because if she did she knew she would end up in his arms.

“Don’t you have to drive someone somewhere?” she tried on a huffy demeanor—it did not fit.

“Cara…”

He was like a panther at close range, his eyes intense and he always looked like he was ready to pounce. The heat of his eyes and body so close to her broke down her will.

“Come…” he purred, with his mouth and fingers.

“Nothing is going to change Ted, we have been over this over and over again…” she shook her head helplessly, and he pulled her close to him when her tears came.

I shut my doors on that dark guilt,

I bolt the door, each door I bolt.

Blood quickens, gonging in my ears:

The panther’s tread is on the stairs,

Coming up and up the stairs.

Cara cried when he left—she knew he had to this time, but she still cried. That underwater feeling flooded her again, as she tried to come to grips with what had happened—what would keep happening.

If he came to her, and she looked in his eyes. If she looked at any part of him she would not be able to resist him.

He knew it too, he pinpointed her weakness and took advantage of it.

She could still smell him, feel the sweat of him on her fingers from when they made love. He looked at her in that way that promised everything, but nothing as she grabbed his ass while he moved inside of her. She was ashamed that him inside of her at that moment had been everything.

Dark tears wet her face and her sheets, when she heard someone come up her stairs afraid it was him again knowing it wasn’t…

…for now.

More Masturbation Monday here:

Kink Flashback

If you read my Wicked Wednesday last week, it was a bit somber. I decided to do a kink flashback this week–while I regroup…

Eliza felt damp underneath the black and white dress that she wore. She was annoyed with Terrence, and it was the first time she had really been so despite everything that happened between them.

But even mad, even wanting to throw him out of a window, when she looked at him something happened inside of her.

He moved closer to her, and she looked at him first hopelessly, vulnerably. Then she squared her shoulders, and felt how tight her jaw was.

“No, no, you cannot just sweet talk me out of this,” she said quietly, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

That was all he said, without smiling like usual to soften her. His expression was solemn almost, and his eyes locked with hers.

Naked beneath her waist. Eliza had on only a black and white bra, under her black and white dress. Naked the rest of way down, she felt her clit thicken and twitch with desire.

She fluttered her eyelashes, and looked away from him.

He kissed her where her lashes fell.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he repeated as a litany.

He pressed her to the wall, and she drowned in his scent and emotion before he slipped his hand under her skirt and she heard his surprised gasp.

“You’re not–”

She leaned up and kissed him. He pulled her close, and he slapped her backside, his fingers sticking a bit because they were damp with her moisture.

Pressing her pelvis to his, Eliza let him crush her to him even more. She looked up at him, this time vulnerable and scared. 

The way she felt about him terrified her, and being in his arms made her feel like loose lava. He caressed her, at the top of her triangle and she squirmed which made him spank her.

Her desire raged only from the waist down, although she could feel her nipples were hard against the cups of her bra.

He said he was sorry, and she allowed him to pleasure her. She gave into him.

Like usual.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Underwater via @19syllables

Cara woke up the following morning in the hotel, and felt like she had emerged from the sea. Wild dreams even after a lovely night with Damaris, Damaris who was sweet like a seashell out of a Botticelli painting, when she licked her on the sumptuous sheets.

But now walking down the streets of New York City leisurely–later she would see one of the clients that she promised Damaris that she would see in her place. Her phone buzzed as she looked at her lipstick in a Fifth Avenue store window, she saw the name on her watch–immeadiately she clicked decline.

Ted.

Aptly named after Ted Hughes the poet—Ted was the epic type of ache that would have been a book of poems if she was Sylvia Plath. He was what made her feel like she was emerging from underwater…

Cara had loved him so much, that it felt like she could not breathe for her love. She could not do anything but love him, and he broke her heart time and time again.

He was so damned beautiful, and when he made love to her it was so otherworldly that she felt like she was floating the entire time. She was with him until he dropped her…

Last night with Damaris had been a sweet distraction. Neither one of them had wanted to be alone. Damaris tasted like a sweet seashell, and when Damaris tasted her she felt like melted ice cream licked as it dripped so not a bit of its sticky sweetness would be lost. Their loneliness sharpened their desire for each other.

Ted had been everything to Cara, the first man she had loved so completely and having to let him go was hard–made her nights even harder.

She had not slept with anyone since she left him, until last night with Damaris. He kept showing up on her phone, and she kept declining.

Then she bumped into someone as she was declining another call.

Ted.

“Are you following me?!” she screamed, even though seeing him made her warm all over and she knew he could tell.

Ted held her face in his hands, and kissed her right in the middle of the street. She heard her phone drop—and crack—and she did not care. His lips on hers were so soft and fierce at once. Cara pressed her body to his to feel him full-length as she had not for weeks. Her body needed to memorize his again.

As if she had forgotten.

He was hard everywhere, including his face. He wrapped his hands about her neck, and kissed her lips again.

Kissed her goodbye.

She looked around and saw him go back into the car he drove for a very wealthy man, who she had once been picked up by. But she locked eyes with Ted, and that was it.

Stepping to crack her phone even more with her heel, Cara’s cheeks and between her legs were wet and she felt like she was back underwater.

More Masturbation Monday here:

Celebration

I looked down at my thighs with pride last night. They supported some amazing walks over the past few weeks, and support my arms when I am writing at home like I did yesterday for Smutathon. Smutathon is erotic writers writing for a good cause–you can find out more about it here and there is still time to donate if you can. You can read my Smutathon story quartette if you like here.

More Sinful Sunday here:

Together Again

Sable buried her head in Paul’s chest after she came, tremors from pleasure shook both of them as he caressed her nipple.

His pants were still zipped up but she wanted him so bad, she reached between the two of them. The aura of his erection was so powerful, that she wanted to savor it almost as much as she wanted him inside of her. Looking at him on her screen when they Face Timed made her mouth water. He was so sexy, and she knew what he felt like. What he smelled like. What he tasted like.

She had not told him that she had gotten a flight so she could be there for his birthday. Sable just showed up on his doorstep after work, and he let her in.

Now she wanted to let him in, deep inside of her.

Paul kissed the nape of her neck, and she groaned. Her grip burst through the aura of his erection.

“Please,” she whispered so low, if her hand was not on him he could not have known what she meant.

The sound of his zipper made her clench with desire, and she would have touched herself but he was going to be inside of her. He had not been inside of her since that first night and she was not able to forget how he felt, how they felt together.

Sable took the first bit of him inside of her as she readjusted herself on his lap. When she settled and moved, he grabbed her breast pulling at her nipple before his hand creeped up to her neck—she liked that—and he squeezed before he pulled her hair.

He knew all of her hot spots, it was too much as they both fought for control of her clit with knowing fingers. He had seen her enough—he knew what to do.

He made her come so hard that she thought it was her birthday, as she gasped and gripped his thighs for dear life.

Today I am writing for the AMAZING Smutathon! We are writers writing smut to support a great cause, please find out more here. And read more smut here!

This is my fourth story–you can read the first one here, the second one here and the third one here. All four smell out “SMUT” with the first letter of the title of each post!