Masturbation Monday No. 223/Friday Flash No. 35

“I was distracted by your reflection under the picture of the pretty woman — you are prettier.”

Damaris smiled at the man who she saw walk over from the bar, and hand her a glass of what he clearly guessed she was drinking.

“Good line,” she said, as he sat down next to her.

He was sitting beside her moments later at the AirBnb she was staying at in Brooklyn. She had had enough of Paris and its beauty, and being confused for her dead sister.

People sometimes looked at her like she was an apparition, and sometimes she believed she was.

The guy beside her, she did not know his name—was not necessary for the function he served for the night. But that did not mean that she was not going to give him something to remember. He squirmed underneath her, as she gave him a meaningful hand job.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he whimpered, and she laughed.

He wanted to come inside her, and she would let him. But she knew she was dextrous, and her hand skills would drive him crazy.

She wanted to test his stamina.

His hips bucked, and he finally placed her on his lap.

Damaris looked at him with innocent eyes.

“You are a very bad girl,” he noted.

“Are you going to punish me?”

She saw his white teeth glow in the dim room.

“Do you want me to punish you?”

She nodded vigorously, and slipped his loosened belt from around him before she pulled up her skimpy dress which she wore nothing underneath and offered her bare backside to him. He got behind her and she felt him press himself between her cheeks.

“No, the belt first…” she urged him.

He playfully tapped her a few times with it, but she was having none of it.

“Hit me!” she commanded.

And when he did hit her with force, she felt tears come to her eyes and she came with such a force of her own she was pretty sure she almost lost consciousness.

More Masturbation Monday here, more Friday Flash here:

(Flash and) Fleur Friday No. 26 — Vintage Pin

Jeanne was intrigued when she walked into the offices of Ogler, the curatorial porn company. The office was ultra modern, and the CEO Maddie Stone was dressed from head to toe in vintage attire. Jeanne could not keep her eye off of the pin on her jacket, that was topped off by her Popsicle Firecracker ice pop colored hair.

Maddie rubbed the pin, and smiled at her.

“It is a random pin I found at a flea market, but I like it so I wear it a lot,” Maddie smiled. “ You know when people come in here to ask me about Ogler, and how I came up with the idea and things like that…” Maddie sat down, and crossed her legs. “I usually ask what them to try Ogler, see what they like…and then ask me. The proof is in the pudding to me.”

“That seems fair to me, and that is why I did try it out before I got an interview with you,” Jeanne admitted.

Maddie smiled.

“I love it!” Maddie clapped her hands. “What do you want to ask me?”

“I know that you came up with Ogler because you wanted more intuitive porn when you were looking for it, and you felt that you were not alone so you developed Ogler. What trends from it help you to make it more intuitive for your viewers?”

“Well the algorithms that we use are almost flawless—it really does follow the ebb and flow of all of our viewers’ caprices with their viewing and it makes it easy for them to find things that they will want to see. Some viewers say that it knows them better than they know themselves and I love to hear that.”

Jeanne smiled at Maddie, she had to agree secretly—Ogler had really intuited everything that she liked. She felt her face warm, and she knew that Maddie knew all of her secrets…

 

Jeanne is interviewing the woman who created the curatorial porn site that Eliza mentioned here, there is more Friday Flash here.

Wicked Wednesday #340—Porn Site

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 here, and my steak scene is here!

marinated meat via google images

Masturbation Monday No. 222 via @MollysDailyKiss — Mistletoe

Damaris looked in the mirror, and she saw Carole. Not as a ghost, but herself as Carole. They had looked alike as young girls but now…it was undeniable how much she looked like her dearly departed sister. She dyed her hair the color Carole’s was, and she was poised to take her place.

But she couldn’t.

Even in her death, Carole eclipsed her.

Damaris threw the mirror to the ground, when the tears came to her eyes again.

All of her life she was second place to Carole. Because even though she looked “classier,” she was the one who people thought was unapproachable. They liked Carole because she was the sister who was more down to earth, more bohemian.

Damaris had only ever wanted to be loved herself, and she thought that Gui had loved her but he loved Carole and was just using her in her place.

She was not even a good replacement Carole.

She was staying now in Carole’s apartment in Paris—she did not want to be in London anymore. But she was terribly lonely, so she went to the bar that was nearby. When people first could not keep their eyes off of her, she realized that they probably thought she was Carole reincarnated.

She was not.

A man walked in—not from there—and looked at her. He would be the one to help her stave off her loneliness for the night. In the doorjamb of the apartment, she looked at him with pursed lips eager as if she was under the mistletoe.

He kissed her, his hunger for her lips made her wonder what he was trying to stave off—did it matter? He pulled her onto the terrace, Paris watched as her kissed her lips like he was fucking them roughly. They throbbed with hunger when he pulled her away from him and looked at her licking his lips.

Her lips still pursed, her hunger was sharp and she was thankfully not alone…

More Masturbation Monday here

 

photo via Molly Moore

(Flash &) Fleur Friday No. 25 — Amour

Jeanne and Terrence went to Cafe Amour, the neon Amour outside of the cafe provided a red glare on their table. It also left a red glare on her heart—on the heart of her new necklace that he had just given her. It said amour, and the o was a red heart.
She loved it, and she loved the man who gave it to her.
Everything in Cafe Amour had amour in it. The Amour Mussels and Frites had a savory garlic and red chili peppers broth. The Amour house wine was a Cabernet and Merlot combo, and the Amour Chocolate Mousse had a mascarpone-filled red heart.
She dabbed her mouth with a Cafe Amour napkin that was covered with tiny red hearts.
But with all of the words of amour and red and hearts, it was looking at the man sitting across from her that made her red and filled her with amour…

Read more Fleur Friday here, and Friday Flash stories filled with amour here!

Wicked Wednesday #339 — Playful

It was it was not that arguments were easier with Rafe now, they were not. But now that they were married, Eliza was more invested. She did not want a fight to fester into something awful, that she would not be able to prevent from escalating.
The night at the restaurant when Jeanne slapped her, was an awful night. She and Rafe could have had a fight but she did not want it to go there ever again with him. They had had enough fights that almost ended them. The last time that they had broken up had almost been it, but then they got married.
So much had been planned, such a big wedding had been planned and instead they had just went to City Hall. Eliza was so in love in with Rafe in her vintage dress, saying the simplest vows to him.
Of love.
Presently she felt playful, as she wrapped her arms about him. She puckered up her lips, and looked into his eyes. Rafe must have felt playful himself, as he picked her up and swung her around like a merry-go-round. A little dizzy when he stopped, she pressed her face to his chest.
“I love you,” he said, running his hands through her hair. “I love you so much.”
She looked up at him again, and he kissed her.
She remembered that planning for their wedding was the reason she was so stressed out at the bar, when she met Oscar. She had not seen Oscar in such a long time, she wanted to spend all of her time with her husband. It was not said, but their marriage had not closed their relationship though they barely were apart. Eliza felt lovesick when she was away from him for too long of a time.
She was still recovering from her accident, she had post-traumatic stress disorder and was on temporary leave from work. Getting married was the only thing that anchored her, being in love and being a family with the man she loved.
But in his arms now, she just wanted to be silly and play with him.

More Wicked Wednesday here, and go read my new story posted at FrolicMe!

 

 

photo via wicked wednesday

 

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Masturbation Monday No. 221 by @more_matters — Grieving

They had made love not out of want or need, but out of companionship. Sabrina’s stockings were ripped and torn not from desire, but from the necessity of making contact with warm skin and any barrier was ruined in the process.
The thong was wet and soiled with Gui’s come, as was her dress. Sabrina turned on her side and realized that she would need to see if there was something she could wear, if even a shirt to wrap about her and make a mini dress.
But first, she looked at Gui. His face had softened, and he looked like the mischievous man she had met with Carole. She touched his cheek, and realized that he was disfigured with grief. It was now clear to her what had happened.
Damaris had wanted to replace Carole for him, but she did not realize that all she was a replacement. As much as he had promised her she was not, all he saw was Carole when he looked at her. Yes, he was embarrassed because of the shame of what had happened between them. But what really ravaged his looks were his guilt and grief.
“You told me,” he whispered softly, as she stroked his unshaven cheek. “You told me it was too soon, you told me not with her but I did not see it…”
Sabrina kissed him, she knew he needed to say everything but this was not the time for I told you so. She kissed him, and he understood the soothing motion of her mouth as he pulled her close to him.
“I am here for you Gui, always.”
He rolled her onto her back.
“You know with you I was never confused. It was like you were another part of Carole. Not Carole, but just so close to her. It made me happy to see you two together.
He caressed her stomach and lower, lower until she arched up at him.
“You are not a surrogate,” he said, his fingers caressing the lips between her legs. “Thank you for being you.”
Sabrina closed her eyes and wrapped her arms and legs about him. She was still grieving as well, and it was like Gui was a bridge to her repressed memories…

More Masturbation Monday here. If you want more sexy reading, go read my new story posted at FrolicMe!

 

 

photo via May More

 

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Sinful Sunday, Week 398 — Peanut Butter Cup (Canvas)

 

 

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(Flash &) Fleur Friday No. 24 — Listen (Words of Love)

Jeanne had not stopped shaking since she had slapped Eliza.
She had not had any idea that she was going to slap her sister, but Eliza had been unbearable and what she had said about sloppy seconds had been mean and downright nasty.
But the slap had been hurtful to her as well. Terrence had held her since the slap, and now they were in his apartment. He was still holding her, he walked her into the bedroom past a lovely sculpture that looked like it was listening for something but there was dead silence as he undressed her. He caressed her with his hands, with each touch she stopped shaking bit by bit.
He leaned down and kissed her, and she cradled his cheeks in her hands. His skin was so warm and soft. She could see the sculpture still listening for sound, but the only sound to be heard was the rustle of the sheets as they got into bed. The room was dark, and the sculpture looked like the moon looming behind them in a mirror.
Jeanne looked into Terrence’s eyes, and he trained his on her searching her face.
“You make me feel good,” she said softly, and kissed his shoulder.
Still silent, he kissed her and the place between her breasts which she pushed together to caress him. Terrence rubbed his cheeks against them, before her kissed her nipple.
“I need you,” Jeanne said, arching her body up to let him know what she really did.
He did not delay, his attention focused on the lower part of her body. He had to still her because she was levitating wildly.
“I need you too,” he whispered into her ear. “I need you too.”
Their need was evident with how seamlessly their bodies joined. Jeanne still levitated, but now Terrence held her hips and pressed them all the more to him. If the sculpture was still listening there were deep moans and cries between them now, and after a while words of love…

 

More Fleur Friday here, more Flash Friday here. You can read Eliza’s feelings about the slap here.

 

 

sculpture at the brooklyn museum via f dot leonora

 

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Wicked Wednesday #338 — Writing

Eliza could not read the writing on the cocktail menu. She was so upset, she bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling.
Rafe and her were not together when she had had her accident, so maybe he might have said something disparaging about her…but it still hurt to think he had talked about her like that with Jeanne.
Jeanne.
Sometimes she had wanted a sister like Rafe had Fiona, and she still did have Fiona but Fiona was not her blood sister. She was now hers by marriage, and even before. But she should be so lucky to have a sister like Jeanne.
Eliza had broken up with Terrence because it was too much for her to be with him when he had the affiliation with Lila. There were too many questions she had about him and she decided if Rafe was gone—at the time—Terrence should be gone with him. But seeing him with Jeanne, knowing Jeanne knew him like she did…it was unbearable.
Rafe held her hand but he was silent. Eliza knew that she did not want to make the kinds of mistakes they had made previously with each other. He held her hand tight to let her know that he was there and be was not going anywhere, before he picked up her hand and kissed it.
“Do you think I have changed?” she asked him, while still trying to decipher the blurred words of the cocktail menu.
“You’ve had two accidents, you would have to change to adjust,” he said.
“But I mean, am I what—” she started to say Jeanne, but she could not even bring herself to say her name aloud. Her name would have been like a slap on her lips. “Like what she said.”
“You have changed since you stopped taking the pills. The pills were making you different.”
Eliza did not look at him. She had stopped taking the pills, but she was taking them again. She still had pain, and the pills made her feel better. Why would she not take the pills?”
She nodded, and did not look at her husband. Because she was afraid that he would see her.
The her that her sister–Jeanne–saw.

 

More Wicked Wednesday here:

 

 

writing via wikipedia

 

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