Hands Up for the Elust 116!!!

I remember the first time I read Elust. I did not realize that it was a digest of erotica at first, before I read several pieces that I liked. I never imagined that I would be part of it ever, and I am always humbled by that.

I hope you find new and old favorites below…

Elus6 116 Hyacynth Header

Photo courtesy of A Dissolute Life Means

Welcome to Elust 116–

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #117? Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Space Between Us

Language Matters

Extraordinary Hands

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Chips

I believe I can fly.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

photographie érotique ~ a perspective

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Love Hurts
Lustless
Parity
Relearning How to Masturbate.
My Cunt is Art
Hormones, Anxiety and Menopause

Erotic Non-Fiction

Watching Their Mouth

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

The night I went to a BDSM club
A higher age of consent for bdsm?
Fear

Erotic Fiction

hands up
Do you Dare? After Party Party
The Waiting Game
Vicki’s Dream
The Fear Factor
Bloomed Bright
My legs are longer than my patience.

Erotic Non-Fiction

A couple of couples

Blogging

Amazing Love

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Do you really want to hurt me?

Writing About Writing

The Problem with Perfectionism

 

 

 

Elust

Suffocation

New York City felt like a foreign country, after Sabrina had spent so much time in Graham’s home just outside of the city. But since she had barely been outside of his house since she took refuge there, it was like learning to walk again in the city.

She had finally decided if she was going to say something to Harry, that she might as well see him and not bother with a phone call. Her keys to his apartment felt sharp in her hand, like she had an open blade on her palm.Walking into the apartment, the smell was familiar but foreign like a place that she used to love but had not been to for a long time.

But there was something different.

When she walked soundlessly to the bedroom door, she was not even surprised. Should she have said something? Should she have let him know that she was coming, or was it better that she had just come?
That she had just come like the woman who was in bed with Harry.

Sabrina leaned against the door. She hated herself for her feelings, but seeing what she usually got from Harry being given to someone else…especially since she had not seen him for a long time and there was a part of her that very definitely missed what he gave her. Not that she had not been intimate with Graham and enjoyed sharing that with him, and the way he always treated her like a princess made her feel special.

But it was suffocating in a way. She realized that she could be with a man who she found suspect, who might be guilty of a crime—but she was not sure she wanted to be suffocated. And this made her think that she would be okay to be with Harry, who was pounding into this woman with his hands about her neck and she wrapped her hands over his so he could squeeze tighter. She had faint bruises on her breasts that Sabrina realized were love bites new and faded. The woman gasped not out of breath, but with more pleasure. She came again, and Harry hit her breast fondly as he came to rest on his side and she followed him. A sudden crash sent the bottle of champagne that Sabrina noticed only then to the floor, as the crash like thunder drew their attention to her standing in the darkness.

More Masturbation Monday here, more Kink of the Week here.

gorgeous image this week from Masterseye

Hello

The way that Mal pulled his long hair up, and looked at her Jeanne with an unmade face went through her entire body. His skin glowing but stark, let her know they were not what they used to be to each other. It was hard even though she knew it, she knew it but it was hard to look at him.

To know he was with Karys.

Jeanne remembered talking to Karys about him at Saturday and Sunday boozy brunches. Karys was not sure how she felt about him, but she talked to her about him and let Jeanne talk about him as much as she wanted to. When Mal gave Jeanne her necklace—her Fleur necklace—Jeanne had caressed it and turned it between her fingers nonstop, until she was afraid the gold would melt.

“Jeanne,” Mal said finally, and it was jarring because he had never really called her anything but Fleur. She remembered him drawing a black suds rose on her nipple in the shower. He had black soap in the bathtub, and the water had been gray when it washed off of them. “Jeanne.”

“It’s okay,” she said, wanting to touch his forearm but afraid to because she was not sure that she had the right to touch him anymore. “It’s okay.”

Jeanne wore her Fleur necklace. She watched as Mal reached for it, and turned the gold word slightly with his fingers. She could hear Adele’s song in her head, “Hello” and realized it was not too late for her to to say she was sorry even though they were torn apart. If she had called him, he would have picked up the phone because they still mattered…a little.

More Fleur Friday here, more Friday Flash here. Gorgeous Friday Flash picture donated via Candy Snatch, who you can read a guest post from here.

Dreams (Reprise)

If you have been following this series regularly, you know Eliza has been having a time of it– especially after last week! This week, she is on a hiatus, and I found an old Wicked Wednesday that also had a dreams theme!

Eliza sat at the bar, her legs crossed as she nursed her drink. Josephine, the bartender smiled at her intermittently. The sparkle of her own diamond engagement ring made Eliza blink so fast, an eyelash slipped into her eye. She blinked until the lash did not irritate her anymore, and took a sip of her cocktail. When the man walked toward her, she knew him and did not know him at the same time. She studied Oscar as he approached. 

“Waiting for your fiancé again?” he asked, sitting next to her so that her thigh pressed against his. 

Eliza saw Josephine look at them out of the corner of her eye, but Eliza was not able to restrain herself from pressing closer to Oscar. Not able to resist her making thigh press even more to his.

She nodded in response to his question.

Oscar put his hand on her thigh, and Eliza saw Josephine actually lean over the bar to look to see where his hand fell on her thigh.

“You going to leave with me again?” he asked. 

Eliza put her hand over his on her thigh.

“You wanted me here Eliza, you wanted me and now I am here…”

She nodded, and got up with him.

“Do you have a room here?” she asked quietly.

Oscar was quiet, and in her heart of hearts, Eliza had to admit that she liked him best like this. Rougher, and taking charge of everything. Taking charge of her. He took her hand, and they walked out of the bar urgently.

“I do not have a room here, but I cannot wait anymore…” Oscar said, his hand on her hip. 

They walked to a door marked “Staircase B.” And like on the staircase in the gallery at Fiona’s opening in Shanghai, Oscar kissed her. He pressed her to the wall, and it felt like a fever spread between her legs. Eliza was smoldering. When their lips parted, her mouth was still open as she panted.

“You want more?” he teased before he kissed her again, and held her face in both of his hands. He bathed her face with warm kisses, it felt like he was kissing her between her legs.

She had memorized his touch. Just as she was about to come, she was startled.

“Liza?”

Eliza’s eyes were slit, and heavy with sleep.

“Mmmmm…”

“You were moaning loudly in your sleep Liza baby, you were having a bad dream…”

She closed her eyes, heavy with sleep and deception. 

Rafe kissed her shoulder, and she curled up against him. He took her hand with her ring on it, that felt like lead on her finger. She felt the weight of it, even when she was not thinking about it. 

And she liked it, what the ring signified. When Rafe proposed to her again, she did not hesitate not to say yes. Yes to him, yes to wearing her ring. Her finger literally had felt naked without it. She said yes, and  Josephine had given them celebratory flutes of champagne with strawberries.

Her dream did not make sense, it did not make sense that she would imagine herself meeting Oscar all over again. But this time knowing him. Knowing they were going to go off together. Knowing they were going to make love again…

Until Rafe woke her up, thinking she was moaning over a bad dream.

He did not know…
More Wicked Wednesday dreams here:

  
bar photo with dreamstate filter by f dot leonora

Ribbon in the Sky

Harry looked up, as he was walking down the hall and saw Charlotte. She smiled, surely he did not think that he could just abandon her when she worked for the company that just merged with his? Especially not now that she had been relocated to this office…possibly she could have had something to do with that but that would be her own little secret, she smiled to herself!

He looked blank as he approached her, as if he had never fucked the living daylights out of her. As if he did not know her. She did look very different from the last time he saw her naked in a puddle on her bed after he had fucked her damn near incoherent. The way she presented in the office, she did not reveal any extra flesh. She wore pants, her hair twisted up and a jacket. Playing her look down for the office was necessary for her on so many levels, because with her physique even a demure pantsuit was something of a provocation for the men in the office.

But she only cared about Harry, and he looked like he was not in the least bit interested in what she had to offer. At close range, she was silent. She instinctively felt that was what he wanted, and she wanted what he wanted.

It was later, much later that he reminded her that she was not in control of this situation. That she was not the boss.

“Look at yourself!” Harry demanded in a hoarse whisper, as they stood before the executive bathroom mirror.

And Charlotte did, his necktie about her neck. She had admired the tie when she encountered him earlier in the hallway, popping out in contrast to his black suit. Now it was about her neck—the only thing she was wearing as he remained completely clothed—before he covered her eyes. From her neck to her wrists, and about her waist, Harry wrapped his tie like a magic ribbon around her. He let her look in the mirror at his manipulations, but not at him.

“Get on your knees,” he demanded hoarsely again. His tie pulled her hands up over her head, as she kneeled before him. He pulled her face to his crotch through the manipulation of his tie. Charlotte pressed her face to his familiar bulge and closed her eyes in the executive bathroom, on one of the top floors of this skyscraper so close to heaven…

Reverent.

More Masturbation Monday here.

neckties via wikipedia

Parallel II

Jeanne knew that she had no right to feel the way that she did, but she did.

When Karys told her that she was deeply in love with Mal, she knew that she had no right to be jealous about it. She was gracious with her friend of course. Told her it was not a problem, that she had had the same experience with Terrence who she was with now when she had had to tell her sister about the two of them.

She and Eliza had all but come to blows about it, what happened between them was so awful but they made up. It was Eliza that she had confided in as soon as she left the restaurant with Karys, because who else was she going to tell?

And then Eliza told her of an even more harrowing situation that she had encountered, and she was sitting with her now in her apartment. Eliza looked rather sedate for a woman who had been harassed by her husband’s ex, had a gun pulled on her and then managed to turn the tables.

“Are you okay?” Jeanne asked again, holding her sister close to her.

Eliza was silent, but she nodded. With the PTSD that she already had, it truly frightened Jeanne to think what this was doing to her.

“Are you okay?”

Jeanne swallowed.

“I am fine—you—”

“Jeanne,” Eliza began. “I would just love the distraction.”

Jeanne nodded to herself, knowing Eliza could not see her.

“I just, I know I have no right to be upset, but it just feels like they never even thought about me. Was that what you felt with Terrence and me?”

“It was different because you are my sister…”

“Karys has been like a sister to me as well. Before you.”

“I do not think that they did this to hurt you.”

“I know, but it is so jarring to me. And the way Karys told me…was even more unsetting. She seemed so guilty.”

“Did you talk yo Mal?”

No,” Jeanne said, fingering her necklace that he had given her that said Fleur. “No, if he wanted to talk to me. If he wants to talk to me he can come to me you know?” Jeanne held Eliza closer to her. “I know you want the distraction, but I am so glad that you are here with me.”

Jeanne kissed her sister’s cheek, and tasted a tear on her tongue.

More Fleur Friday here. You can read the first part of this post here.

the scream via wikipedia

Parallel

The gun hovering in the air was not as menacing as the look of pure hatred on Ingrid’s face, Eliza thought as she felt as if her heart was trying to beat out of her chest. Ingrid looked the complete if looks could kill look at her. If Eliza had not sensed her hatred in her previous correspondence, her vitriol was clear in person.

Paralyzed with fear, Eliza could not move. Like being in a dream, she opened her mouth wide as a yawn and nothing came out. Was she even trying to scream? or was she just in a Edvard Munchesque frame at that moment? Ingrid waved the gun, and Eliza already watched her life pass before her.

The only image that stayed with her as a visual mantra, was the image of her wedding. Not her mother and her father when she was little, not even Jeanne and wondering what it would have been like to have known her sister earlier. It was marrying Rafe, as if that were the crowning achievement of her life. They had been so happy since then, had they waited this long for nothing? For this woman to take it all away from her?

Eliza charged Ingrid with strength she was not sure where it had come from. Actually she did know—it was rage. The gun fell, and off kilter, Ingrid could not grab the gun fast enough so Eliza grabbed it and held it with both hands. Rafe had shown her how to use a gun once, and she had hated it. But she let him show her anyway.

Thankfully.

Ingrid cowered now, and Eliza finished the phone call she had been going to make before she came in with the gun. Just not the way she had expected to…

At the police station, she again told Rafe how much she resented him for making her learn to use a gun.

“But you saved my life, I thought about you and you saved my life.”

He pulled her close with one arm, and she pressed her pelvis to him to anchor her connection to him.

When she texted Jeanne, that she would never guess she was in a police station again, Jeanne texted her a wide-eyed emoticon, and hinted at her own parallel hell…

More Wicked Wednesday here. You can read more about Jeanne’s parallel hell in my Fleur Friday post later this week.

the scream via wikipedia

Flicker

Charlotte woke up, soothed by her own softness in contrast to the rough sex she had had with Harry. She had feared that he was out of her life forever, and she did not want him to be. She wanted him so much it hurt.

From the moment she saw him, she wanted him. She had not been his first choice that night. He was on the prowl and she was DTF, but he was not thinking about her in the least. Charlotte knew she looked hot—she always did. She usually had to fight men off to leave her alone. But Harry was hot too, and he had his pick of beauties. She was not the only one there who was ripe for the picking.

It was a cocktail party for her company–a company his company was considering a merger with. Harry wanted nothing in the form of a merger with her it seemed. There was another beautiful woman who he watched, and Charlotte smiled. She would just bide her time. That cold fish he was trying to catch…he would tire of the pursuit soon enough. Charlotte could easily read other women. She knew who was hot to trot, and who was colder than an iceberg.

Harry sure enough did come for her. His eyes were like fire, as he looked her up and down. Her body hummed with lust, when he flicked her nipple through her dress spilling a little of her white wine onto her hand which felt cool against her hot skin.

Charlotte savored the intervals of cool air, when later their bodies slid off of each other’s perspiration. When Harry spanked her breast and pussy, she felt the suction of his palm from how wet her body was. His face buried between her legs, she sighed as he ate her out and the wisps of air in between cooled her sweat-dampened chest and hard nipples that he kept flicking. The flicking of her nipples made her even wetter. She heard the dampness as he licked her, and groaned her pleasure loudly.

That was what he was to her before he disappeared. And now currently hard nipples and wet pussy…he had disappeared again.

More Masturbation Monday here.

candle via wikipedia

Love Meter

Karys finally was able to see Jeanne. While she noted that her friend looked apologetic about having been MIA, she was not even concerned about it.

She had her own issues.

Jeanne hugged her for a long time. It felt nice to be in her friend’s embrace, and smell her familiar perfume. She had a bottle of the same perfume of her own, because it smelled nice on her too.

“I missed you, and I have a been a bad friend!” Jeanne exclaimed, with a vulnerable smile.

Karys sat down, between her legs still deliciously sore from her lovemaking with Mal. They could not keep their hands off of each other. After the time in the bathroom at the restaurant, they had made love all over town in public and private.

She liked private best, because it was the most sensual.

He bought her a necklace with a butterfly.

“I feel like you are a beautiful butterfly that I caught,” he said, his lips on her chest where the necklace fell on her skin.

She fingered the tiny butterfly, as she looked at Jeanne. Jeanne leaned in, and Karys noted that the necklace that Jeanne wore that said Fleur that Mal bought her was not on her neck and that was something that she usually wore all of the time.

“Thank you, it was a gift.”

Jeanne nodded, as her mimosa was placed in front of her.

Mal had given Karys her necklace, draped over a cake with gold leaves for her birthday. She knew he had given Jeanne jewelry too, but when it was her she felt like she was the only one. He made her feel so special.

She was in love with him, and she did not want to give that up. What would she tell Jeanne?Jeanne sitting across from her sipping a mimosa, and looking in love herself?

Karys’s butterfly warmed against her chest.

If her love was on a meter…

More Fleur Friday here, more Friday Flash here.

Worst Fears

Just when Eliza thought her fears were alleviated, the phone calls from Ingrid began. She did not tell Rafe about them at first because she would take her pills, and not think about any of it. To some degree, she feared it was her fault that Ingrid was so mad. How did it look? She had befriended her, then took her ex-fiancé back and married him?

So she just ignored the calls. She ignored them anyhow because she did not want to talk to Ingrid, but then the messages began.

“You bitch, karma is a bitch too! I don’t have to do anything to you! Karma will! Name your firstborn that!”

Eliza would come into the apartment and see things moved from the way that she had left them. At first, she thought she was disoriented, then after the fact she realized she was not. Then the letters started. First sent to her, ransom style with the letters cut out of a magazine which was frightening.

“Mrs. Hughes,”

You are just a liability. Rafe feels sorry for you, he told me so you stupid cow! What can you do for him? Do you look in the mirror? You are not half the woman that you were, that I saw from pictures around the house. I am not saying that he should be with me…but you should let him be with someone worthy of him...

That was worse than any of the other things that Ingrid had done—she had tapped into Eliza’s fears that she was on a downward slide. She knew that Rafe could not keep his hands off of her, but at the same time she knew that she was not the woman that he had first gotten involved with. She was not who she imagined she would be at this stage. Still on hiatus from work, she was not ready to go back at all. Her PTSD was overwhelming, so she had called Adrien because he was part of the drama she had faced with cars. She never wanted to leave the house unless it was really close and even then, she was afraid.

Rafe knew this, and told her he was fine to take care of her. They certainly had the money, she had her own too from when she did work. But now, she just needed time.

“Have you been to see anyone?” Adrien had asked her. “I started seeing someone when I moved to New York. I got a prescription for anti-anxiety meds which had helped a lot.”

Eliza had been using her pain meds for her body for her mind, maybe she should see someone…

She was about to pick up her phone, when Ingrid appeared around the corner.

“Hi Eliza,” she said with a smile that did not match the rest of her face.

Eliza flushed with the scalding heat of fear.

More Wicked Wednesday here.

fear via wicked wednesday