Sinful Sunday, Week 275:  Underwater


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Wicked Wednesday #215 — Night World

Rafe liked New York at night, he stepped into the sultry city night and into a cool car to take him…wherever he wanted to go…It was in the middle of Times Square, it looking like a carnival at almost midnight, that he saw Margaux.

Margaux.

Margaux not waiting for him, on her own and probably not even thinking about him.

He watched her for several blocks, unsure how to approach her. They had not stopped seeing each other, but it was strained between them and he knew that was for a lot of reasons.

But now she was the queen of the night world, and he was bedazzled. He stuck his head out of the car window. When she saw him, her lips parted, and she looked at him wistfully.

Rafe told his driver to stop, and he got out of the car. He wrapped one arm about Margaux’s waist and pulled her into the car. 

“This only happens in romantic movies.” she grinned, staring at him no less dazzled.

“Well you look like a movie star.” he said, as she caressed her e-cigarette. “A French one.”

Margaux grinned even though he could tell she did not want to, and Times Square swirled around them.

“Now tell me, where are we going?” Rafe said, watching lights bounce off of her.
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times square at night via f dot leonora

Masturbation Monday No. 97

Nichy flicked her clit with her finger, while Graham lie beside her on the couch. She could still feel his tongue on her clit, and everything around it. He liked to give her head as much as she had liked giving him head. Her finger moved in the same way that his tongue had, somewhere between consciously and unconsciously. His scent and her fingers moving over her clit, was almost like the real thing. Tears moved down her cheeks, as she thought about the things that he said to her between his fierce licks.”Oh you taste so sweet, you must taste sweet with all of the people who cannot stop licking your cunt…”

Nichy gripped the edge of the couch when he said that.

“Do you watch me when I am fucking other people? How do you know what people think about my–”

He looked up at her, and his expression was soft but she knew he was about to deliver the coup d’etat.

“I have seen you Nichy, you know I watch you and you know that no matter where you seek it? No one does it better than me…no one knows your body or your basest thoughts like I do–”

Nichy came when he said that, she held his shoulders and pulled him into her. There was a reflection of them in the window, and that made her pulse even more between her legs. It felt so good to her in a twisted way to know that he watched her, but it was even sexier for her to see him eat her out and know that he could not see himself.

She had all of the power.

After their interlude, Graham clutched her thighs, and curled up on her couch. He fell asleep, and she was startled that he felt that at ease to fall asleep with her. He had found her after she had run away from him, and she did not know what he wanted. He did not want her, he could not want her after all of this time and all that had happened. But he still wanted to touch her, to taste her…he had not fucked her for a long time and she pulsed thinking about him fucking her.

Her temples were damp with sweat, and her clit was slick with desire. It was a foreign and familiar sensation with him…

Nichy gasped, when he grabbed her thigh. He touched her so hard, that she knew there would be a bruise there. She sighed, and pressed the leaves of her rose geranium plant between her fingers needing its fragrance to calm her…

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rose geranium via f dot leonora

Sinful Sunday, Week 274: Serpent


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Wicked Wednesday #214 — Weight

For the most part, Polly liked her figure. She was thin and tall, with soft curves. Not boyish, but not Marilyn Monroe either. Her clothes hung over what curves she had, and Colin often remarked how much he liked that. He liked her small breasts as well, they filled his hands but did not runneth over when he played with them. 

Kissed them.

Polly covered her breasts with her own hands as she stood in her Shanghai hotel room. The grittier part of town where they had had dinner exposed her to the rawer part of the city that she was not familiar with, and made her and Oscar cling to each other not for love or lusy…but for safety and familiarity.

Being so close to Oscar, after having been with him…after having lived with him refueled their connection–at least for her. And she realized quickly for him as well, as they moved in almost synchronized fashion. Their nonverbal communication was so on, that they rose at the same time and departed from the restaurant. Oscar stood outside with her, and before they got into their car, he pressed her to its door. 

Polly surrendered her slender form to him for just a moment. She was slight, but strong and she knew that she could combat his weight when she was ready to.

But she was not ready to. She looked into his eyes. He had pinned her to the car, he would have to justify his reasoning. He looked at her for a long time, then took her arm.

“Let’s get out of here…” he purred, almost inaudibly. 

She could feel the weight of his body pressing her to the car, as she caressed her breasts and then let her hands linger over her ribs in her hotel room. Her phone vibrated in unison with her caresses, and she picked it up.

I miss you.

The text from Colin made her wet, as her own caresses had not.

Me too. Wish you were in Shanghai.

Do you?

Yes, I am in a mood and would love you. Here…

There was a knock at her door. Polly felt conflicted, was Oscar checking up on her? She held her phone, as if the screen with her texts to Colin were an amulet. She looked out of the peephole, and gasped as she opened the door.

“Is that how you open the door with your pretty tits out like that?” 

Colin cupped her said pretty tits, as he kissed her and pressed her to the front of the door.

“I knew it was you, I knew you were out there…” she said, right before he kissed her again and held her close.

The weight of his hands on her breasts, lulled her into lust, and she almost fucked him with the door wide open.

Almost…

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marilyn via wikipedia

Masturbation Monday No. 96

If only the woman who had been looking out of the window could see the three of them now…

Nichy was lying on a pile of colorful sheets, that she wondered if they had been arranged just for her. Her arm was up over her head while Renee kissed her neck, and Gavin lapped at her clit like a cat lapped at milk or water.

Nichy had definitely believed she was not going to be able to come again, but she had. Gavin had gotten her worked up just outside the apartment, and she was practically begging for release from either one of them by the time she had settled into their embraces and kisses in the apartment.

Later she walked into her own apartment–they had shared her enough that she did not feel the need to stay over. When she opened her door, she saw a shadow before she put on the light and knew it was not Tyler.

“Had you forgotten about me Nusch?”

Nichy did not bother to put the light on, she did not want the light on Graham’s face. There was no need for her to see him. He illuminated his face with the flashlight on his smartphone. She stared at him for a long time.

She was never able to escape him.

This time around, she did not know what he wanted. When she left, she had known that she would never be able to escape him. He was too well connected with people that she did not know, and did not want to know. And as for the control he wanted to seem to have to her, she knew that he would not be there if he did not want her.

She could not take her eyes off of his face, she did not even know when he moved closer to her. Her clitoris tightened when she saw the look in his eyes. Nichy knew that she was defenseless if he tried anything with her. When he undressed only her bottom, she groaned. Even before he put his tongue on her. The feeling of his tongue between her legs, was something that she would remember no matter how long it was since the last time he had pleasured her.

“Spread your legs, spread them like you have for Gavin? Renee? Tyler…” he whispered thickly.

Nichy placed her finger within her bellybutton. In one way she was nervous that he was tracking her every move. In another way, she loved that he was seeing what she did—she liked being watched and he knew that.

This was all almost like a grand cat and mouse game. Because even as she feared him, Graham could come and lap at her clit like this and she would feel as surreal as the surrealist muse that he nicknamed her after…

More Masturbation Monday here:

masturbation monday

Nusch via ideafixa

Sinful Sunday, Week 273: Some Things Never Change…


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Guest Blogger Mrs. Darling on Exhibitionism and More!!!

I met Mrs. Darling at BDSM Writers Con last year, where I was dazzled by her retro style and am BEYOND thrilled to have her as my guest today with her new book! Read on to discover how it all came together for her!

Three years ago, I awoke in the middle of the night and felt like crawling out of my skin. It was the evening after a BDSM lifestyle event, not much different than any I have attended over the years. But something I was asked that evening, was like a splinter stuck in my brain keeping me from peace. At some point during the easygoing conversations amongst friends and strangers, a question came to my Dominant and I. It was a question that kept coming up over and over again. 

People wanted to know about our transition from a vanilla egalitarian marriage, to the one we lived in at the time. We lived 24/7 TPE D/s (which means full time, all day, in and out of the bedroom, Dominance and submission). Our new marriage was so inherently different than our “old” one.

“How did it all start?” I was asked over and over again.

We gave a simple explanation as always: we were unhappy in our non-kink relationship. One of us brought the idea of BDSM up, and together we began researching  and educating ourselves, practicing power exchange in the bedroom first, etc. Every time we told the story my husband (referenced in my non-fiction writing as Mister or MR), clasped my hand tight to slow my rising pulse and comforted me in the invisible way only those closely connected can communicate. 

This story, the real and rich deep down story, circled around the worst time in my life. Every time it came up I walked down a path filled with sorrow and tears, all while smiling and speaking with a forced politeness. I looked forward to the drive home so I could sit in silence and let the tears fall, feeling alone and ashamed and afraid of anybody learning the heartbreaking path that was actually “How did it all start?”

It started as catharsis. 

So in moonlight after another evening of mournful recollection, with a silent house asleep around me, I pulled out my laptop, turned on some tunes and started writing. I wrote it out; wrote it all. The bad. The worse. His mistakes. Mine as well. I wrote of struggling to see the silver lining. I wrote out my anger in knowing for so long that I wanted BDSM and submission to be a part of my life, but feeling like I was a damaged person for wanting it. I wrote of my husband’s struggle in his path as a Dominant. I wrote about fucking, I wrote about fucking up, I wrote about fucking around. I wrote about our developing SM play. 

I wrote for a year. In the middle of the night, in the early morning over coffee with my children’s cartoons playing in the background and during their nap time. Some of my hobbies went on the shelf, to make room for writing time. It consumed me.

I wanted to cut this story out of my system. I wanted control back of our beginning. I wanted to confront my emotions head on for the first time since living the experience.

See, the truest story about “How did it all start?” for us in Dominance and submission is the basic story of the phoenix. The Mister and I, the “old us,” had crashed and burned. We were entirely broken, had died emotionally, and had no other choice but to help first ourselves and then each other rise from the ashes. It was so… incredibly… painful.

Writing it out freed me from the pain. Submission though, submission is what allowed me to fly again. When I became a submissive I began journaling my path. I wrote my private journal and shared it online, in a public forum and quickly fell in love with the kindness, support and camaraderie I received from the BDSM community. I waded through submission and there were others who had walked similar paths, and encouraged me along the way. I always have simply written from my heart. 

I almost exclusively wrote non-fiction about our experience in kink, about our 1950s household, about our bedroom affairs. I’m not one to craft a character or storyline; any attempt comes up flat. People seem drawn to my authenticity. One of my friends once wrote in comment to a very personal journal, “You’ve got this wonderful ability to suck the reader in, put them in your shoes, and then drop them on the other side feeling awed to have gotten a glimpse.” All of a sudden it clicked for me. 

I am an emotional exhibitionist. 

It manifests itself by way of creative non-fiction. 

Darling Discovered: A True Story of Submission is an encapsulation of the two. 

This book that I wrote over the course of three years gave me exactly what I needed. It is a way for me to both expose my weakness to the world, ensuring that it can never jump up on me again, but also give me power over the story told. While writing Darling Discovered, I probably shed as many tears telling the story as I did living it. I laughed, I lost sleep over it, I re-lived the tale. Creative non-fiction, which presents real, accurate information in a fictional literary style, gave me both the structure I needed to once and for all answer, “How did this all start?” and the literary freedom to expose my soul to the reader. 

The happenings happened, sure. 

But when you can accurately articulate things like self consciousness. Ecstasy. Rage. Remorse. Anticipation. And not just articulate the guess of those raw emotions but write from actually living the situation described, well, it lends the story an authenticity that I personally find hard to duplicate. In the end it leaves the reader as the voyeur in this true story of starting submission. Even for those not interested in kink or BDSM, this is a tale of self-acceptance, self-awareness and of learning to love the imperfect version of ourselves. 

I am grateful for that night years ago when I was asked, “So, how did you go from there to here?” It gave me the courage to answer it openly and honestly, once and for all.

I am finally free. 
Darling Discovered: A True Story of Submission won in the non-fiction category at 2015 BDSM Writer’s Con and was published June 2016. It is available in print and all ebook formats at major retailers. DarlingDiscovered.com for more information.

A special thank you to F. Leonora Solomon for hosting this guest post onto her lovely website, fdotleonora.com.

Mrs. Darling is the lady of a Modern Day 1950’s M/s Household. She is a regular contributor for SubmissiveGuide.com and her work can be seen elsewhere online.

Wicked Wednesday #213 — Turn Around…

“I wish I could turn around and start over…” Oscar said, when he got into the car beside Polly. Polly stared at him, the way that she used to before they ever got together. Her haughty indifference, was worth far more than her acting hurt.

The night before, she had spent the with Colin. His brand of lovemaking satisfied her in way that no other kind had. Their love was far from perfect, but the physical side of their love was irreplaceable for her.

But she would be a liar if she tried to say that being in the limo with Oscar would have no affect on her.

“Do you still love him?” Colin had asked her that morning, when she was getting dressed. She was topless, and his eyes were fixed on her modest breasts.

“Of course I still love him in some kind of way…” she shrugged. “But he left me for Eliza, and I left him because of you…”

Colin pressed his lips to her neck. He looked at their faces in the mirror.

“I think you should explore everything with him. You should see where you are, it will make us purer…” e said, wrapping his arms about her. “I am not afraid of him you know, and I need you to know that. I will love you regardless. I always have…”

Polly felt like he was looking at her and Oscar in the car now. She touched her breast through her sheer blouse, as if she were him.

“There is nothing to start again,” she whispered. “I could have gotten out of this, right before the sale too? But I am here.”

Oscar looked at her softly.

“I know.”

Polly looked out of the window. She did not want her own estrangement to be as painful as Alice’s. Alice’s break from Fiona, had her questioning everything and she talked to her about it ad nauseum. She and Alice were close friends as well as colleagues forever, so she listened. Listened to Alice so she would not be tempted to talk about Oscar…Oscar looking the way he looked beside her. The last time they were in a limo together…

She closed her eyes. A tear escaped to just the top of her cheek, and she rubbed it away just as quickly as it had arrived there.

Her past was far too close and tempting…
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limo interior via wikipedia

E[Lust] 83

Elust 82 Header Holden and Camille
Photo courtesy of Holden and Camille

Welcome to Elust #83

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 #84 Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

London Crows and London Kisses

I am Her. She is Me.

You Say You Want to Cook for Me

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Unusual Liaison

Community. Respect. Friendship. Fucking.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Dirty Little Secrets

*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!

 

Poetry

You Know
O

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

My Bed
Secular Submission
My therapy
from “hard limit” to “want”
We Measure the Nostalgia
The Cure and The Cause

Events

Smut in the 6ix – Porn Conference & Gala

Erotic Fiction

Typing Errors
La Belle Dame
Sex and chocolate
The Imprisoned of HIM-HER-THEM
The Gift
audience
Becca’s Story
Rope and Fixtures
As salty as his cum…
Dominating the Doctor

Erotic Non-Fiction

Teen Sex in Woolly Tights with 60s Beat Music
Dear Sadist: Your Cruelty Is Your Love
A male dom, the straight girl and the bi girl
Owned, Leashed, & Beaten
Jan 2015 Owned & Collared by Mistress Claire
Rinse The Days Filth Away
Power On
Keeping tally

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Formative Kink Epic Fail: “Buck Rogers”

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

If it was easy anyone could do it
What’s a service submissive?
Prescient Words

Writing About Writing

What if aspirational meant something else?

 

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