F DOT LEONORA - Page 24 of 115 - connecting the dots by editing & writing erotica

Afterthought

“Thank you Didi,” Lee had said when he was walking out of her apartment.

She smiled, as she closed the door behind him. Didi was the name that she used for clients, it was a combination of her first and middle name—Damaris Demeter. Lee had made her feel like anything but the goddess she was named after.

And she loved it.

He was sweet as pie when he walked in to see her, slowly leading up to kissing and caressing her. He asked her how she was, and cooed over her.

In the beginning.

This slow buildup led to him asking her if she wanted to get fucked.

“You want to get fucked? Show me.”

Damaris knelt before him, he had already unzipped his pants and she eagerly pulled him out of them. Already wet from seeing the bulge in his pants even before she released him and put him in her mouth, Damaris held him with one hand and played with herself with the other.

Lee pulled his slippery with saliva shaft away from her, and she still licked and kissed his balls.

“Stop. Greedy slut, wait.”

Damaris continued to play with herself, and Lee played with himself. The mutual masturbation was hot, but she wanted him inside her. Sometimes he finished like that, and came wherever he landed on her. He liked watching her play with herself.

Damaris needed more, she pulled one of her breasts out of her camisole to play with as she continued to edge. Between her legs thumped with desire when he picked up a condom. The tiny sound of it as he did, made her such a very greedy slut for him.

He pulled her hair to pull her closer to his thighs, Damaris put her chin on his knee and looked up at him pleadingly.

“Get on all fours now,” Lee said.

He liked her best on the floor, where he spanked her while he fucked her, pulled her hair and called her all kinds of a slut which turned her on to no end. Lee made her ride him, he wanted her to show him how much she wanted him. She always exceeded his need, and sometimes he came too fast, and then he would spank her to punish her for being too much for him.

They would lie on the floor after, as he kissed the back of her neck and tell her how good she made him feel. How much he liked being with her.

And affectionately, he told her she was his slut.

Damaris pressed her cheek to her closed apartment door after he left, thinking about how good it had been. But when she closed her eyes, she was not thinking about Lee anymore…

More Masturbation Monday here:

demeter via wikipedia

Another Song

Eliza decided she was going to sit there for another song, and then she would leave the cafe. It was so hard to leave for the moment. She could not stop looking at Oscar and the Sally lookalike.

They were the most striking couple there, and she was not the only person looking at them. Because after all Chloe–that was her name, right?–did have the wine splashed at her. Oscar caressed and kissed her nonstop at the table tenderly. Even people from the outside peered at them from their window seat.

When the song was over, Eliza stood to get up, and that was when Oscar turned around and saw her. She got up quickly to leave, as he kissed Chloe’s hand before putting it down on the table.

Seeing that the door was not an option, Eliza rushed to the ladies’ room and realized that was not a barrier. They had fucked in a ladies’ room before–he had followed her in there. Not in a stall, Oscar had lifted her up and placed her on the fancy sink before he entered her. She had held onto him for dear life, and recognized that sentiment now in Chloe.

Oscar followed her into the bathroom.

“Eliza,” he began.

She shrugged.

“There is nothing to say, you do not need to say anything to me.”

Turning to look at her face in the antique mirror, Eliza dug into her bag to reapply her lipstick and then look at him.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Why? There is no need.”

“I tell you everything.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time. No words, just looked right into each other’s eyes–almost through them.

“She needs you, go. Tell me later.”

Oscar still looked at her for a long while. Then he took her hand and kissed it, before he walked out of the bathroom.

Eliza decided one more song before she would walk out of the bathroom too…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Those Three Words

Her job sometimes made Damaris kind of a therapist–it was not just a roll on your back job like most people thought. It was the oldest profession for a reason—the service was needed whether society wanted it to be or not. She easily became Nyla’s number one girl, and it got to the point that she wanted only her regulars.
Including Jared.
He came to see her fairly often, and always told her how beautiful she was. Those were the only three words that he said to her, before he made her melt with sex that was so good she thought about it when she was not with him. That late at night, when she was alone she thought about him and her fingers played her pussy like an instrument that she needed to tune.
Lying on her back now with him, he still licked her like the finest cream. Damaris pulled at the bed sheets with pleasure, because he knew her so well even from their intermittent meetings. He spanked her because she squirmed and cried too much while pushing herself against his face.
When he spanked her, she stilled instantly—he did not need to say anything to her. She obeyed him without words, and came like she was free falling in a dream—kicking her feet about his shoulders and gripping them.
She put her robe on as he kissed the nape of her neck, and pulled her to him. He looked down at her softly—briefly—before he left. Her phone pinged to let her know that he had tipped her. His tips were always very generous, and she wrapped her arms about herself.

Dressed up like she was going on the fanciest date, Damaris looked up at the gorgeous photo of a nude woman from her table. It was late, so she sat at a cushy table all to herself.
She would not be alone for long. As a regular, the staff talked to her and there was always a man that wanted to talk to her. That was what she wanted…
…to talk.
Aside from those three words, Jared never said anything more to her than to tell her how beautiful she was. He made her body feel beautiful but not her soul, and she knew it was dangerous to feel this way about him…a client…
That was what she told herself…

More Masturbation Monday here, more Friday Flash here:

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Porch

More Sinful Sunday here:

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Swap!!! A Sexy Excerpt from H. K. Carlton

One of the coolest things about writing is meeting other writers. H.K. Carlton is awesome, I love her writing, and knowing her in general. Her re-release Swap is SMOKING!!! You know when you have to have that book right now? Well Swap was that for me, and I am going to share with you!!!

Most of us have been there – the unrequited crush, the fantasy lover who still haunts our dreams. Usually that longing disappears from our lives, and the unbearable need fades to a bittersweet memory. But for Hailey Hollinger, things are not so simple. The object of her secret affection is her husband’s older brother.

Excerpt

We paid the bill, then headed for the truck.

In the parking lot, he handed over the keys.

In a moment of sheer insanity on my part, I threw my arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. “I really am proud of you, you know.”

He placed his arm around my shoulder and he pulled me closer. I felt his chest rumble. “Thanks, Hails.”

We slowed our progress, as if neither one of us was in any hurry to get to the truck. I laid my head back against his shoulder. We walked to the passenger’s side of the truck and I hit the remote on his key fob, unlocking the doors. I opened it for him. He laughed. “I’m supposed to get the door for you.”

“Oh, I thought that was just a shotgun thing, not a chivalry thing. A woman can open the door for a dude, ya know,” I said with mock impatience. “Just get in.”

He turned to face me and, to my surprise, he reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. “You’re really lame, ya know?” He laughed at my expense.

“I think that’s an eighties catchphrase. And yeah, I know I’m lame, but you love me anyway.” I tossed his words from earlier back at him.

But his smile slipped. “Yeah. I do.”

Something in his voice made every body part I owned turn liquid. In my head, I rushed to tell myself that he meant like a brother and that he’d had a few beers, but his next words stopped my thought process cold.

“You might be the only thing I’ve ever envied about my little brother.”

He moved his hand to the side of my neck and grazed my cheek with his thumb. Then his lips were there, hovering just inches from mine, as if he were seeking permission. My senses swam with the possibilities.

I pounced, seizing what might be my only opportunity to kiss him. I didn’t hold back—he experienced the full-on, ravenous impact of years of worship and sexual fantasies that had run the gamut from sweet, innocent eighteen-year-old’s kisses to the tantalizing nocturnal fantasy that I’d created just the night before.

I flattened my chest against his, trying to get inside his coat. He spun me around, and nudged me onto the seat of the truck. I didn’t want to separate from his lips afraid that if we lost contact he would call a halt to this. So, I fisted my hands into his shirt and hauled him in after me. I opened my legs, encouraging him between them.

When he followed, I crabbed toward the driver’s side. My shoulder hit the steering wheel. I released his shirt long enough to grope for the tilt-steering lever. I pushed the wheel up to give us a little extra room. He was not a small man. The thought shot another little thrill through my already highly sensitized body.

He reached backward with one arm, trying to close the door, but I pulled him toward me with all my strength. I wanted to get as much as I could before he put a stop to this. I knew he would. He was too nice a guy to let this happen. What did that say about me?

“Let me get the door,” he said against my mouth. His breathing was choppy and heavy.

I released him long enough so that he could reach behind him. The door clicked and I didn’t even have to coax him back—he was there and kissing me. I strained to get closer to him. He settled his hips between my thighs. His thick erection prodded my entrance through my jeans. I rubbed my aching cunt shamelessly over his rock-hard cock. I was soaking wet.

Needy sounds erupted from the back of my throat. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything, and at that very moment I didn’t care about anything else. Not Brent. Not Cheryl. Not even the fact that I was probably making an absolute fool of myself. There was one thing on my mind, and that was getting him inside my body.

Impatiently, I yanked at the bottom of his shirt. As I dragged the flannel up his chest, he pushed at my t-shirt. His large, warm palm passed over my ribs. Skin met skin, but it wasn’t enough for me. I let him push my top all the way up, exposing my bra. He smoothed his hand over me, before cupping my breast. I pressed more fully into his hand. My nipple pearled against his palm.

“Mmm,” he hummed, a deep affecting sound. He gave my breast a firm squeeze as he hunted around back for the hooks, but the bra had a front clasp. I made a protest into his mouth as I directed his hand back around to the front. He undid my bra, setting my breasts free. He released my mouth, then kissed a slow scorching path down my neck and chest, finally fastening his hot lips around my nipple.

I moaned at the exquisite sensation, arching my back, giving him full access. He growled in return and I wanted to laugh out loud. This was incredible! He swirled his tongue—my nipple tightened into a hard knot, and my pussy contracted. He rocked his hips. I could almost imagine he was inside me. If not for the goddamn clothes between us, he would be. I wanted it. I wanted it now!

He fluttered his clever tongue, and thrust his hips faster. Christ! I was so beyond turned on, I was going to come, and I wanted him inside me when I did.

I reached between us and undid the snap of his jeans. I grazed my fingers over the tip of his smooth cock with one hand, while unzipping his pants with the other.

All of a sudden, he blocked my hands, and released my breast.

“Hails!” He gasped for breath.

And there it was. He was too good a guy to let this happen.

You feel just like me, right?! Go get your copy!!!

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Double Your Pleasure

This is a retro post that I like that has to do with pleasure–with a link to one of my favorite posts I have ever written for the blog. Double your pleasure!!!

Eliza liked porn.

She and Rafe watched it together. Her feelings were as long as it was somewhere between “female friendly” which was too softcore for her, and acts in which the bottom did not look like there was any pleasure for them was her sweet spot. They enjoyed a fabulous app that curated their porn, and gave them recommendations from things they had watched before. It was their favorite.

Of course they had made their own moments that she remembered and played like porn in her head, but it was nice on movie night to sit together and watch a film. Sometimes something mainstream but racy, and other times only a porn film that catered to one or both of their delights was what they craved.

Like there was a film about a butcher, and she began by expressing her love for prime cuts of meat. Then a customer who she had a crush on walks in, and well meat! It reminded Eliza of one of her favorite times with Rafe when she was making steak, and they ended up making love by the kitchen sink. Watching the meat on the set while the couple had sex, reminded her of that and a Francis Bacon painting that she loved of a butcher.

But next to Rafe, his warm scent and his arms around her…how could she not want more from him?

The film played in the background, but she had moved to his lap as they kissed. He cradled her, and she felt how much he wanted her. She straddled him, and slipped his elastic waistband over his hips so she could just look at him for a moment. On movie night they usually wore things that were easy to remove. His track pants slipped down easily, and her see-through slip and lacy thong were hardly a barrier.

She licked her lips as she had had enough of looking at him, and wanted him inside of her. All the tension in her body released as she felt him enter her. She knew him so well, she felt him

inside her like a missing piece. They moved together with ease, they knew what to do to each other. He looked up at her, and she did not break his stare.

Porn was nice, but it was nothing like actually having sex with someone you love.

More Wicked Wednesday filled with pleasure here, and my steak scene is here!

marinated meat via google images

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Like Tinder

Damaris was obsessed with her new apartment. She had not expected Graham to have died, and she had not known what to think when Sabrina—Nyla was left in charge of his business given their past history.

But Nyla had not failed her–the apartment was amazing.

The business had evolved to a level that Damaris had not imagined it could, with an app that worked like Tinder. She was able to go through it to find carefully screened clients so she could swipe clients that appealed to her. If a client swiped her, she would be alerted only if she had swiped him.

Damaris swiped Jared, he was tall, dark and handsome like something out of a fairy tale or movie. He worked in finance, and described himself as a workaholic. She swiped him, and was happy because she wanted to be a workaholic now–they had something in common.

It took het an inordinate amount of time to get ready for their session. But after she looked at herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, she was semi-satisfied with her appearance.

Right then, she saw him waiting in the lobby on the tiny screen by her door. He did not look nervous, he was a cool customer and she put on her cool exterior as well.

When he came upstairs and she opened the door, he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Jared,” she said softly, looking up at him.

Damaris turned around, and he wrapped his arms about her waist. She wrapped her arms over his arms and for a very frightening moment, she had a flashback that made her squeeze his forearms. Playing off her touch as passion, Damaris turned to look up at Jared.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, as he kissed her neck.

Damaris offered her neck to him, so he could kiss her more. His kisses went right between her legs. She stood with her legs parted, the warm throbbing between them was a familiar ache that lingered. Her hand moved over her stomach, as she tried to refrain from touching herself and gasped when Jared’s hand moved over hers and between her legs. The desire to ride his hand was strong, but she did not. As much as she ached for him to take her out of her misery and give her what she wanted, Damaris did not want the experience to be rushed for him.

Jared’s hands moved over her body like a wand, removing her clothes and leaving her barer and barer to him.

There was no prelude with him, he was not fast but he got right to the good stuff. He was the type of little boy who had scraped the cream of the Oreo right away and discarded the chocolate cookies.

He licked her like the cream of an Oreo—using just a little bit of teeth which she liked. Damaris cried out and clutched the expensive sheets—it was not a show. Jared drove her crazy, he held her hips when she almost squirmed off of the bed. She caressed his head, as he licked her like cream. He made her feel so good, she had not felt this good since the last time time she had sex…

Damaris closed her eyes and panted, as she came suddenly without warning.

In the shower, after Jared left she washed between her legs and she spasmed a little bit because she had come that hard.

They already had scheduled another session…

More Masturbation Monday here, and read the first in my new Medium series…it all starts with a kiss!

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fire via wikipedia

At the Center

Eliza started taking yoga so she could find her center. Lying on her mat before class, she closed her eyes and tried to block out all of the things that had been going on with her and around her. Therapy and yoga had been a very good balance for her.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a woman walk into the classroom. A quiet gasp escaped her when she realized it was Sally—Oscar’s ex.

There was really no reason to talk to her now, because she and Oscar were not together anymore—Oscar had told her about that. Eliza could tell he was leaving out details, but she did not pressure him. He eventually told her everything, so she knew when he was ready he would.

Eliza could not help but watch Sally throughout the class. She was modelesque with her poses, the instructor even commented on it. At the end of the class, Eliza had hoped to not have to engage with her but when everyone drank tea at the end of the class they locked eyes.

Sally smiled awkwardly, and sipped her tea.

“I guess you know now, I am sorry I came to your apartment that time. You know when you think you and the other lesson are unbreakable? That was all that was. I am sorry,” she said.

Eliza shrugged.

“Relationships are difficult. I certainly know that, and I have had difficult moments with Oscar so…”

“Yeah, I know. Good class.”

They parted, Eliza left and then again Sally at the café she always went to. How was she going to find her center when she kept finding Sally everywhere?

But then a younger version of Sally sat across from the older one. Eliza figured it was her daughter—good she would not have to make small talk after all. Eliza looked down at her menu when she heard a loud noise, realized it was a slap and watched the younger Sally hold her face.

Sally got up, threw her wine at the younger version of herself and stormed out of the café. The younger Sally sat there stained in wine and tears.

Eliza picked up her phone to text Oscar, but all of a sudden there he was in the café. He took the hand of the younger Sally, and rushed into the ladies’ room with her.

Eliza felt like she was at the center of this drama even though she was not. A repaired younger Sally walked out of the bathroom, Oscar still holding her hand. He never let her hand go, and if there was any question about their relationship he kissed the younger Sally for a long time. A kiss like a scene in a movie, and never let go of her hand.

Eliza sighed, she remembered what that kiss felt like and what it meant. Now she understood the interaction between the younger and the older Sallies.

When would Oscar tell her?

More Wicked Wednesday here, more Sex Bloggers for Mental Health here:

Explosion

Breakfast was business, pure business. Nyla sat across from Damaris, and reacquainted her with how things ran and what would be expected of her—using Graham’s business model of course with her own modest adjustments.

Damaris was unusually quiet even for her, but Nyla was not concerned with that. This was business, and she had divided her business and her life very distinctly.

“Are we all clear?” she asked Damaris, who nodded. “Good, I have arranged for you to stay in an apartment in the city. You can live and receive clients there.”

Damaris nodded again, and put her hands together as if in prayer. Nyla looked away from her, got up from the table and prepared to go to the cemetery.

Her body burned from love not made. She had spent the entire night with Andres, and he held her but they never made love. But the closeness of their bodies was like a ticking bomb inside of her. Her body vibrated with every touch they did not have. His scent was inside her, like the scent of a summer storm that was long in the coming and then poured.

Her center was lost as she thought about what had not happened, and Nyla curled on her side on the bed. Touching herself would not work, when even the sheets made her feel sensitive. She was that ripe for the picking.

Andres walked into the room and she exploded inside.

“Sorry, let me know when you are ready to go to the to cemetery,” he said.

The ride to the cemetery was the longest ride she had ever had. Every shift, every time she touched Andres accidentally another explosion went off inside of her. On her knees before Graham’s grave, she thought she saw the dirt move under the flowers as she picked them up and maybe even a hand and she startled.

“Nyla?” Andres knelt beside her to touch her arm, and she grabbed his hand so tight she could feel where she punctured his skin with her nail almost before she let go—before she tried to let go. He did not let her hand go, he did not let her go…

More Masturbation Monday here:

Presto

Jeanne had not been to one of Mal’s openings since they were no longer a thing, but she was invited to by him and Karys and had to go to the latest to write it up for her latest article.

She had been his muse, but now Karys was his muse. With his long hair up in a bun, and a retro suit Mal stood next to Karys who was done up like the Lady of Sorrows. Her look was reminiscent of retro Dolce and Gabbana from a few years ago, and Mal to complement her had tears painted on his face very retro sixties. Karys had an anatomically correct heart on her t-shirt with seven arrows representing the seven sorrows of Mary, and a long-flowing skirt that was black but red in the creases and looked like she was bleeding as she walked. Mal held her hand tightly, and people kept coming up to them for photographs.

Karys pressed her face to Mal’s shoulder, when too many people surrounded them. It was the biggest opening he had ever had as far as Jeanne could remember, and it would be the most memorable to her.

Jeanne was taking a glass of wine from one of the servers, when Karys and Mal appeared as if presto before her. She smiled, and raised her glass to them.

“This is your best show ever Mal,” she said and leaned in to kiss his cheek. They looked at each other for a long moment, before she kissed Karys. “I think it is you that is making all of the difference as his muse, you made this show so filled with love.”
She exchanged a long look with Karys as well, and took her hand and squeezed it.

Holding her friend’s hand made it all the more surreal, this situation…seeing her ex and her best friend that she considered her sister together was weird. She spent a lot of time with her actual sister now talking about all of this, and that was weird enough because she was dating her sister’s ex.

Jeanne sighed.

“Do you want to have drinks with us after?” They asked in unison.

After continued to be surreal, sitting with them and the skirt that Karys wore still looking she was bleeding every time she crossed her long legs. The love between then was so evident, and Jeanne felt forlorn. Terrence was on another business trip, and she had reached the point where she started to wonder if there was something else going on why he was always away? Was he seeing someone else, did he not want to be with her? Was everything going too quickly, and he wanted to be away from her?

Karys had a huge smile on her face, and looked just above her. Jeanne turned around, and there was Terrence.

He was panting softly, and a little breathless.

Jeanne stood up, and practically adhesived herself to him, as she looked up into his eyes.

“I just came from the opening, and they told me that you would most likely be here,” he said. “I was going to surprise you, and then the surprise was on me because you were not at my place! But I found you—surprise!”

He pressed himself to her, and kissed her so hard he took her breath away until she panted like he had.

Jeanne pressed her hand to his chest, and no longer felt like the Lady of Sorrows…

Read more about Jeanne here.

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lady of sorrows via wikipedia