When Harry Met Sabrina… (Flashback)

This is a flashback to when Harry met Sabrina, and a prelude for next week’s post!

Sabrina was restless in the middle of the night. Alone, she was confronted with all of her life choices–and changes. Her body of course ached for something more, it was the middle of the night when she was alone in bed.

That was when she was the neediest.

But then she realized she was not alone. Fully awake, she realized Ben was with her, curled onto his side and not holding her anymore as he had when they had fallen asleep.

She got up from her bed, and moved into the kitchen where she saw the reflection of her naked body superimposed onto her neighbor.

That neighbor.

She was going to look away at first, but he looked at her, and let his hand slide right into his pants. It was fair after all, since she and Ben had practiced no inhibition with him earlier. The look in his eyes was something between desperation and helplessness. Sabrina watched him, with a twisted smile. She did not budge, but stood there letting her body be fully seen, letting her breasts bob like apples and looking straight at him. That was all she had to do.

Be an object.

He looked at her for awhile, his face contorted with his emotions. She knew if she touched any part of her body, it would be like igniting a flame.

She touched her lips, and watched him explode. Come spurted onto the window, and he banged it as he came. Sabrina continued to smile, and watched him with lowered shoulders as he grabbed paper towel to wipe the window.

She turned then, turned off the light, forgetting about the snack she had wanted for herself. Everyone had deep desires in the middle of the night, and they had just eased those for each other.

More Masturbation Monday here.

when harry met sally via wikipedia

Patterns

More Sinful Sunday here.

Contemplation

“He went to go see her, because it is the right thing to do,” Eliza said flatly, as she sipped her wine.

Jeanne was equally astonished, that Ingrid wanted to see Rafe. It was true they had gotten married while Ingrid was at a conference, and they had not really interacted aside from him moving his stuff out but … it was still hard for her to have him go over there. With his ex-fiancee. They had been with each other exclusively since they had gotten married—they had been monogamous. Eliza never thought that they were going to be monogamous again, except for the perceived monogamy that she thought they had had in the beginning of their relationship. She had not even really seen Oscar, and he was a permanent in her life since they had met…

She and Rafe had only been together, and she was psyched that they had been that way. Now she wanted him all to herself, she did not want to share him but it was taboo to discuss in a way now. She wanted to marry him, so she had married him and she was going to take him however he was because she knew now she did not want to live without him.

Before Rafe left their apartment, he looked in her eyes.

“I will not go if you do not want me to…” he repeated.

She nodded, touching his lips.

“No, you were going to marry her. She deserves this much from you, for you to end things with her in a civilized manner. I get it babe,” she replaced her fingers with her lips, and he kissed her hard in return. The feeling of his body against hers soothed her. She knew every bit of him so well, the way he felt when she touched him anywhere.

“I married you, I love you,” he said, and she held him a little longer than needed in her arms.

“Are you okay? Jeanne asked, and Eliza smiled at her sister.

She was not okay, but she would pretend she was as she remembered she was sitting in the cafe.

When she saw Rafe walk into the bar, she almost wanted to cry. She was so happy to see him, and to not have to wonder when he was going to come home. He sat next to her, and they entertained Jeanne until she was ready to go home. Rafe took her hand in his later, as they walked down the street to their apartment. She did not ask him a word of what happened.

He was going home with her.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Hands Up

Harry needed to take the edge off.
He watched Charlotte apply her makeup, applying her blush with the delicacy of a feather. She blew a kiss at him.
“I was wondering what had happened to you? You have not called me in a long time!” she said.
Harry did not feel like engaging in conversation—that was why he called her. The only person he had wanted to talk to was Sabrina, and she has not called him back. He had no idea where she was, and he was feeling anxious.
Without any preamble, he stood behind Charlotte and placed his hands around her neck. She leaned into his touch.
“Tighter,” she said, reaching up and putting her hands over his.
He loved the feeling of her hands—her small, soft hands like she was a lady of leisure.
“No hands,” he said. “not your hands.”
Charlotte put her hands down, and his hands tightened around her throat. Her neck was small and soft like her hands. He could break her or kill her. Her life was in his hands, and he got a boner from it.
Just when he was afraid he would go too far, he let go of her neck and she rolled her head toward him. He raised her hands over her head.
“Keep them up, no matter what I do…” he said before he kissed her neck.
Charlotte was always obedient. He knew she would listen, but it did not stop him from raising her up by her hands. He made her face the wall, so she could not see anything he was going to do to her in advance. Her gasps turned him on, like when he slipped his fingers into her damp entrance. He was rough and she kept gasping, as she clawed the wall like she was climbing it.
She did not put her hands down, because he has told her not to.
He shoved his finger in and out of her until that was not enough and he put his dick in. Still mock climbing the wall, Charlotte lifted her leg like an animal in heat, and he pounded into her.
“Harder, fuck me harder,” she commanded, as she pounded the wall.
He did, he was going to whether she wanted it or not because he needed to fuck her hard. That was why he called her because he knew that she would want it as hard and rough as he needed it.
Harry liked seeing her faint nail polish on the wall from where she had been scratching the wall after. She was lying down on her bed in a puddle of her blanket. Her nakedness was enticing, but he wanted to go.
He had done what he needed.

More Masturbation Monday here, more Kink of the Week here and more Friday Flash here.

makeup via Molly

 

Getting It Up For My Sisters!!!

I have a brand-new post up on the Sisters In Smut blog! About when I am not able to get it up…go take a look!!!

http://www.sistersinsmut.com/f-leonora-solomon/getting-it-up/

Back to Life

Karys thought she was safe when she went to the bathroom, but as soon as she was there…she felt Mal’s hand on her shoulder. She already knew that he felt like, and she had only been with him the one time.

But the one time between them had been so intense. So amazing that Karys could not look him in the eye because he would know that she felt something and she should not feel anything for him. It was not okay, this was not supposed to happen.

They were not supposed to happen.

But he turned her around, and she looked up at him with the eyes that she knew he could easily decipher as her desire. He leaned down and kissed her, as she wrapped her arms about him hungrily. She wanted him, she wanted more of what she had had with him and clearly he wanted more of what they had had as he slipped her into the single-person bathroom.

The tiny room was filled with mirrors, so she could see every angle of them.

He pressed her to the door, and kissed her neck.

“We can’t,” she said as he slipped his hand under her dress and found that they would be more than able to because she could feel how slick and wet she was before she heard the faint clicking of her wetness as he moved his finger in and out of her.

“We need to, I need to…” His breath was heavy and ragged. “I want you.”

With his last sentiment, she felt the explosion inside her.

She needed it, she wanted him too.

Karys let him sit her on top of the sink, and she ignored the dampness under her bare bottom when he did. Her eyes were fixed on him, as he unzipped his pants and she saw his already familiar erection slip out. He slipped into her with ease, as she wrapped her arms and legs about him. She felt the warmth of his breath, as he groaned when she kissed his neck.

Karys came in such a rush, she lost her breath before he kissed her breath back.

Like he was bringing her back to life.

Wasn’t he?

More Fleur Friday here.

Love Lock

Eliza smiled at a picture of herself that was on Rafe’s desk in their home office. He had had a camera, and mused if she would take an erotic picture for him what would she look like, when they first started dating. She was a little shy still, they had made love by that point but she still wanted everything to be private and just between them.

That was when she noticed he was getting hard, and she was not doing anything sexual. She was in a vintage floral dress he had seen a thousand times before, sitting in the grass with its wide skirt spread out and looking up at him as he stood poised with the camera.

She realized she did not have to do much to seduce him, she had so much power already. Her smile was Mona Lisaesque, she learned a lot in that moment about herself and him. She rolled onto her back, and smiled up at him. The picture in the frame was a crop of that image, with her eyes wide and knowing.

Her eyes darted to Rafe’s as she came back to the present, and he looked at her. His smile was soft, but troubled.

“Ingrid wants to meet for dinner,” he started.

Ingrid.

Eliza had pretended that Ingrid did not bother her when she was engaged to Rafe for that very brief period when they had broken up. She had pretended enough that she made herself believe it. But now she did not want anything with Ingrid. No pretending, nothing at all.

“Did she want to come to the house?”

Rafe frowned.

“She wants dinner just the two of us, and I told her that I had to ask you. I will not go if you do not want me to.”

“You have to go whether I want it or not, she was a part of your life. You were going to marry her.”

The words came out of her her mouth, and she wanted to mean them. She really did want to mean them. She had had a picture of Rafe at her job, where she did not want people gawking. It just showed the love lock that they left on a not so infamous as the bridge in Paris, but on a bridge nonetheless that had their initials together ER—no plus:

They were one.

That picture was in their hallway now, along with many pictures of the two of them over time…

Was their love locked? She had to let him go with Ingrid if she wanted it to be…

More Wicked Wednesday here, more Friday Flash here!<3

photo via Floss!!!

Everything Roses

Sabrina walked around Graham’s estate with familiarity. She knew it like an animal that had marked its territory, this had been their house. Not everything associated with the house or Graham had been bad. When she wandered aimlessly down the stairs to the kitchen, Hyacinth had a big smile for her. She was hoping Hyacinth would be there already. The older woman was Graham’s housekeeper, and had been like an older sister to her. She confided everything to her, and Hyacinth told her everything that she knew in turn and promised her that Graham loved her more than anything in the world.

Sabrina knew that, when they fell for each other, it was like the world tumbled all about them. She did not want anything but to be with him and vice versa. When she moved into the house, she was its mistress and his muse. He wanted her dressed beautifully all of the time, and wanted her to only do things she loved to do.

“I will take care of you,” he had promised, and he had the only way he knew how to. She did not judge him for his criminality, but it was when she as scared to stay in their home that she had to leave.

Now she was back, she was the mistress again. Hyacinth spoiled her with fresh fruit–fresh everything. She drew a bath got her because Graham said that his Nusch was supposed to be pampered and taken care of. That she had been through a lot, and that was what was he expected of her.

Hyacinth bathed her in roses, and scrubbed her skin smooth. Sabrina could not deny this was what she wanted. She smelled of roses and sweet musk.

“Graham said that I am not to dress you, he just wants you to smell of and lie in a bed of roses until he comes home.”

Sabrina was sure she was rose-colored, but Hyacinth smiled a knowing smile. She knew that she loved and hated Graham’s attention.

So Sabrina indeed did lie on the bed naked, and Hyacinth and another woman artfully surrounded her in roses. The smell was so sweet, Sabrina was lulled to sleep by roses, dreamt of roses. A rose petal was just within reach of her tongue and when she frivolously reached for it, Graham appeared. His own tip slipped out of his trousers, Sabrina let her tongue suspend indecisively—the tip of the rose or the tip of Graham?

Being naked for such a long time, and residual pleasure from their lovemaking the night before made her decision hasty and swift. Gracefully, she shifted all of the artfully placed roses and placed his tip in her mouth.

Graham held her head, and moaned. A deep moan that let her know that he had missed her. He picked up a rose, and rubbed it against her nipples and between her legs. She could see it all when she looked up at him—his dick filling her mouth in the mirror overhead.

She was home for now…

More Masturbation Monday here:

roses via wikipedia

Pizza/Sex

Karys collapsed into Chlo’s embrace. Even though it was a ritzy restaurant, where Chlo had to come collect her at the door, she was able to do that there.

Fall apart.

And she was thankful for it.

Chlo released her, and handed her a straight vodka. Not one with orange or tomato juice like the other well-dressed diners were having. Karys sipped gratefully, her hands shaking.

“So you left him there?” Chlo said to her, picking up her own Bloody Mary mirroring her grateful sipping.

Karys nodded.

She had left him there, it almost felt like she had killed him—hadn’t she in a way? Hadn’t she killed him and herself?

The way that she came across him was an accident, she swore to herself inside her head as if she was trying to convince someone else—a certain someone else. They were both standing at Jeanne’s door, hoping to see her. But instead, all they saw a few blocks away were signs that read Sex/Pizza—which they did in reverse.

Karys was used to casual sex, but what happened between them was not casual. It was tender and meaningful. Something that when they were lying beside each other after and she curled into him, and he pulled her closer it was addictive. The beautiful long hair he had that Jeanne told her about, all about them.

Mal looked at her with a soft smile.

“You know, I have not seen Jeanne for a long time, this was an act of desperation. Like if I cornered her and forced her to see me…”

Karys pressed her face to the side of his breast. His scent drove her crazy. Even with the scent of sex hanging in the air there was something sweet and innocent about his scent. About the way he held her. Something she had not had for such a long time that she forgot what it was like.

But she did not know if Jeanne was done with Mal, he was hers first and she should not have been with him. The morning after Karys left him, barely putting herself together. She just could not deal with what she had done.

To Jeanne.

She looked up miserably from Chlo’s breast, and entering the dining room, his long hair pulled back, in a crisp white shirt with dress pants and suspenders…was Mal.

More Fleur Friday here, more about Jeanne here and Flash Friday here:

Tell Me…

The moment she picked Rafe up from the airport, the moment their eyes met…Eliza felt happy. Her hiatus from work, allowed her to do that–something as simple as picking her husband up at the airport. Sometimes she wished she was ready to go back to work, but she was not. When she was working, she was always rushing. Not working, she had time to reconnect with Rafe. Had time to get close to him and get actually get married, as opposed to the long engagement they had had.

Being married was the best thing she had ever done.

When they were finally in bed–she had lingered for a long time before. She drove Rafe home, and served the dinner she had made for him. Drinks were sipped, while she massaged and pampered him. By the time they got to bed. she knew she could touch him anywhere, and he would be ready.

He would be set off like a firecracker.

Instead she asked him how could she make him feel good? What could she do to make him feel good? Rafe looked at her helplessly.

“I want you to tell me how to make you feel good…” she purred straddling his torso, and she felt him pump his hips like she was sitting on his dick. “Tell me…” she purred more, and rubbed her naked, wet lips–upstairs and downstairs–against him. He groaned under her wetness.

“Here,” he grabbed her hand, kissed it and then pressed it to his nipple. Yes, she knew if she played with his nipples enough she could make him come. Firmly riding his chest, she pulled at them, and moved down his body so she could kiss them but he came before she could. The feeling of his come on her skin was what she needed to explode. Dual explosions within the same region.

She was so glad her husband was home…

This week I was a bit daunted by the Wicked Wednesday prompt–what was I going to see online? Luckily I saw this amazing article by Lilith Bealove for Bellesa!!! Communication is always a key!!!

More Wicked Wednesday here: