F DOT LEONORA - Page 90 of 115 - connecting the dots by editing & writing erotica

Wicked Wednesday #176 — The End

“So this is the end of the tug and pull between you and my brother?”
Fiona asked Eliza this after Rafe had been called into the office unexpectedly, over her scrambled eggs on a rooftop. Picking up her mimosa, Fiona eyed her expectantly.
Eliza wanted to question Fiona on her sudden devotion to Rafe, being that she had declared that she was in love with her when they were in Shanghai.
At the same time, that Eliza realized she was in love with Oscar.
Oscar…
Seeing him earlier at the auction house had brought on a headache. She had wandered through the entire exhibition of impressionist and modern art without seeing a thing of beauty. She saw Oscar with Polly who he had abandoned her for, and at the same time she remembered him in the hotel when they almost made love…She felt that he wanted her, but they ended up not making love. Eliza knew it was because of Polly. Well Polly was beautiful, but still Oscar had been with her shortly after she left Rafe.
Marcus had been there too, but it was Rafe who came and conquered her. She could not forget that he did that every time she thought that it was the end. It was not. Rafe always possessed her again.
“You don’t know what happened between us Fi,” Eliza said filling her mouth with scrambled eggs.
“I do know, Rafe told me what happened with Sandrine, and I told him he was wrong. He always treats you like that, and it is tiring,” Fiona said, filling her mouth with more scrambled eggs with brown sauce and a bit of beans. The place where they were having brunch was very English. “I just hope that this time you both realize that you need to make up your minds, and be serious about being together. Mom and Dad are even worn out.”
“You really have no right to access this Fi, you really don’t!”
Eliza put her fork down. Suddenly the scrambled eggs made her feel nauseous, even though they were perfect. Tears came to her eyes nonetheless, and she ran to the bathroom.
She needed to be alone.
Her period was way overdue, and the nausea she had. She was going to have to take an emergency trip to the drug store. Pulling all of her hair to one side, she tugged on it anxiously as she vomited. Her eyes filled with tears from the act, and then after because she was scared. She had never been pregnant before. As long as she and Rafe had been together, she had never missed a period.
Eliza let het hair fall loose and looked in the mirror, knowing he must know that her period was late.
“Are you okay?”
Eliza looked at Fiona who had come into the bathroom.
Fiona looked between her and the sink.
“It smells like sick in here,” Fiona said opening the small window in the corner.
“I was sick,” Eliza said shrugging.
Fiona stared at her for a long time.
“Are you pregnant Eliza?”
Eliza stared at Fiona without blinking.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

scrambled eggs with brown sauce photo by f dot leonora

Bases Loaded Cover Reveal!!!

It has been amazing posting recent cover reveals, but I have to say it is extra special when it is my own! This anthology is coming your way soon, and in terms of heat? ALL BASES ARE COVERED!!!

Masturbation Monday No. 58: Lust Hangover

Graham had made his point, that he could waltz in and out of her life and that she would be there for him. But when Nichy woke up the next morning, Gavin was in her bed beside her. Graham brought him back, and she was not sure what she was going to say to him when he woke up.
What would Gavin remember the prior night? Nicky could still taste Graham on her tongue, she reached down to touch herself as the memory of giving him head made her need to touch herself.
But she refrained.
When she turned in the bed, she saw that there was a bottle of red wine and glasses. One had her lipstick imprint—that she did not remember drinking from. Nichy felt like she was being set up for a crime that she did not commit, with evidence of an imagined rendezvous rampant about her.
Except she knew that Graham was a master at this, creating a situation that had never existed…exist. When she turned on her side, Gavin shifted. He was beautiful, she thought as he rubbed his eyes. Having him in her bed was surely not the worst thing that could happen to her.
She had wanted him in her bed for such a long time, and now he was in it. But she knew that they had not done anything, and she was not sure what he was going to remember about what had happened.
He rubbed his head, and she kissed his hand and his temple. When he looked at her, she was not sure that he knew who she was.
“Nichy?” he questioned groggily. “Nichy?”
“Yes.” She smiled, and placed her hand on his chest because she wanted to. The feeling of his chest hair, sobered her more than she already was.
“I don’t…”
Nichy was uncomfortable watching his confusion spread over his features.
“What?” she asked, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing it again.
He smiled, when her lips touched his skin.
“I don’t remember what happened last night. Did we?”
She wanted to lie, but if she did lie, it would be taking their relationship to a new level that she was not ready for. And honestly, she especially did not want to lie about doing something with him that she had wanted to do for such a long time.
“No, we almost,” she answered, remembering that was not a lie. “but we both had too much to drink. So we just got into the bed.”
“Naked?”
“Well we were going to,” she said, looking in his eyes.
He pulled her close to him, and this was why she was happy that she had not told him that they had slept together. With her breasts crushed to his chest, she felt divided. First she swooned, being this close, both of them naked and feeling him ready for more. But she also felt like Mata Hari—doing whatever she needed to do to keep her secret. How could she kiss Gavin—when she could still taste Graham’s come in her mouth? Would Gavin know if he kissed her? Would he know the taste of come on her tongue? Briefly she was distracted, and wondered if Gavin had ever been with a man…
It did not matter.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to him, when she stopped on the floor it was squishy beneath her toes. She looked down, and saw the puddle of red wine that was beside her bed and shivered.
Graham had spilled a great deal of wine on the floor, after he had rubbed her to orgasm with its bottle. She was so turned on last night, he probably could have pushed the bottle into her.
But he didn’t.
As she padded barefoot through her apartment, there were so many things that reminded her of Graham from the night before. She pressed herself to the wall in the hallway for a moment, a headache coming to her as if she really had had a hangover…and she did, have a lust hangover…

More Masturbation Monday here:

glass of red wine via wikipedia

Créme In Your Coffee

This is my entry for the latest Sex Blog (of sorts) contest. The last time it was a nail polish color–my story Polished was in the top three! This time it is lipstick. My color was créme in your coffee…

Dinah put on her lipstick, licked her lips and as they were pressed together could not help but notice that the lipstick was the exact color as her nipples. Smiling to herself she kissed the mirror before her, admiring the imprint of her lips on it.
She was in the mood, she knew it as she hesitated putting on her clothes and applied her lipstick naked. Looking down at her breasts, she pressed them together and lifted them up so she could see the color of her nipples close to her mouth. Looking at her own full breasts got her even more aroused, and she pulled one close to her lips and rubbed it with her tongue. The soft skin excited her and she pulled both breasts to her mouth, alternately caressing her lips with either nipple. There was lipstick all over her nipples, which let her see that the color really was the same. Dinah kissed her breasts in earnest then, moving over her coffee cup that was on the dresser to sat on top of it so she could kiss her breasts and suck her nipples. She saw her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of her eyes—her créme in your coffee-colored lips, kissing her tight as rosebud nipples.
Letting her breasts fall, Dinah saw her hard nipples in the mirror. She put her finger in her mouth, before circling one nipple with it. At the same time, she slipped her finger into herself. She used that finger to circle her clit. Tilting her head up, she closed her eyes and let those tiny circles expand until they blended together and she came on top of the dresser.
Dinah opened her eyes, and she saw he was using his binoculars.
She had been playing this game of show and tell with her neighbor for a while. This morning, she had just wanted to play like usual. But knowing that he was home and could probably see her, made she want him. At least she wanted that she had seen of him through the window. Her heartbeat pumped inside her like the sensation of her orgasm, as she slid off of the dresser and walked out of her room.
And then she returned to her room, to retrieve her cup of coffee.
Her cold cup of coffee.
Dinah walked into the kitchen, and placed her mug in the microwave. When the doorbell rang, she assumed it was the package she was expecting and walked into her room to slip on her robe. She could not resist looking to see if he was still across the way—maybe hoping for a curtain call?
But he was not there.
“Coming,” she grinned to herself, thinking she had just come.
When she got to the door and saw him on that side, she pressed her back to it. Patrick, her neighbor stood there with a measuring cup.
They talked, but never inside of each other’s homes. Their game had been accidental. When he just moved in, she did not know he was there and was fully naked when she saw him across the way. It was their joke to “accidentally” be naked, in some state of undress for the other. But then one day, he pulled himself out of his jeans. To top him, she walked around without panties. Each one of them had upped the ante. But the show that she just put on? Well she did not know what he thought.
She opened the door.
“I was just wondering if you had any cream? I need for my coffee…” “You do not have cream for you coffee?” she questioned, pressing her head against the doorjamb and grinned.
“No, it spoiled. And I have not got any sugar either. Have you got sugar?”
“Yes, I have cream and sugar. But I drink my coffee black…” Patrick walked in, and closed the door behind him.
“So do I—“
They walked into the kitchen.
“Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah…” he sang behind her.
“You didn’t—“ She turned around to face him for singing the line from the infamous song.
Right then he did kiss her. So soft and sweet. Dinah showered him with soft kisses of her own. When they parted, her créme in your coffee lipstick was all over his collar.
He pulled her close, sitting her on top of the kitchen table. She knocked over the mug of coffee she had just heated up, and Patrick slapped her bottom hard. When she opened her mouth to protest, he pressed her nipple that he had been caressing her lips with into her mouth.
Dinah was in the kitchen with Patrick and sucked her own nipple hard for him, filled with anticipation of what was the come.

Read more entries here.

Sinful Sunday, Week 235: The Bristol Hotel

I took these when I was checking into the Bristol Hotel this summer. I love that the edge of my handbag and my fingers are in the pictures…

More Sinful Sunday here:

Let's Ride With Guest Blogger Rebecca Black and Her New Book Release!!!

I remember reading this story Rebecca wrote for Masturbation Monday, and thinking I would love more of those characters. Well here they are! For the second day in a row, I have a brilliant author as a guest with a brand-new book! Welcome back Rebecca!

Hello!
Thanks for having me today so I can give my new book Let’s Ride a shout out.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I really love a good, quick read. Busy lives often don’t leave as much time as we’d like for reading, do they? I’m not always so bothered about the backstory, I just want to live vicariously for a moment through the characters as they experience that first rush of lust and desire in a new relationship – I want to get a little hot and tingly 😉
Well Evernight’s Romance on the Go range is all about fulfilling this reading need and my new release Let’s Ride is a part of that.

Let’s Ride started life as an erotic short that I wrote for Masturbation Monday (a meme that I write for most weeks). I saw a black and white photograph of this gorgeous, androgynous woman sitting on a kick ass motorbike in just a pair of knickers and this piece of flash fiction just fired out of me. Talk about inspiration!

She looked like she wouldn’t take any crap and she looked very capable of sweeping someone off their feet. It got a lot of great feedback so I decided to extend it and lucky for me, Evernight liked it too.

I’ve read some great books with well written dominant male characters, both straight and gay, but I really wanted to write a recognisable archetype with a twist. There isn’t one good reason on this earth why the hero has to be male. Let’s Ride completely rejects that assumption. Jo is confident, self-assured and has a dominant streak a mile wide, but she’s also a beautiful woman, inside and out. She rides into town and sweeps Mary-Beth right off her feet and into her bed. I love her (I know I’m not supposed to say that because I wrote her, but I really do!) and I hope you do too.

So here’s the blurb:

“I would do just about anything to be on the back of that bike when she leaves this place.”
Trapped in a small town life, Mary-Beth always knew there was something better out there. Then Jo rides into town and walks straight into the diner where she works. Sexy, dominant and self-assured, Jo is everything Mary-Beth wishes she could be. Their hot, intense meeting crashes through Mary-Beth’s small world and offers her the promise of a new start.
Will Mary-Beth leave everything behind and ride with Jo towards the chance of a new life?

Excerpt:
Standing by the window, I’m trying to take a lunch time customer’s order but my attention is caught by a bike riding into the gas pump out front.
I hold my breath. She is pretty much everything that I wish I could be. Tall and lean. Enough fuck you attitude to tame a horde of marauding Vikings. She straddles that bike like she was born to it, like she never rode a trike. Like she just stepped right onto all that horsepower and with a flick of her wrists rode off into the sunset, giving everyone the finger as she went.
I would do just about anything to be on the back of that bike when she leaves this place.
She kicks the stand and moves the bike smoothly into its stationary position, slinging her long leg over the back wheel.
I jump a little when our eyes meet through the window. I’m supposed to be taking this guy’s order but I got distracted, seriously distracted. She smirks when her eyes roam over the redness in my cheeks.
Heat has suffused my body; a fine sweat has broken out on my skin and I know I’m in trouble. So much trouble.
I manage to scramble my brain sufficiently to take his order and drop it off at the kitchen. Moving around the bar, I grab the coffee pot to do refills. I can’t stop looking at the door.
Will she come in? Or has she just come for gas?
Please let her come in.
I want to see her up close—I want to see her eyes—that flawless skin. I want to run my fingers over the black shaved hair on the sides of her head, run them through the longer top that she has greased back. I want to watch her eyes close with the pleasure of it.
I hold my nerve when I hear the bell ring over the door. I’m pouring coffee—it really wouldn’t do to spill it and burn a customer. I’m bent over slightly to reach the cup, and my skirt brushes against the back of my legs when she walks past me.
I smile distractedly as the customer thanks me, turning my head to see she has taken a seat at the bar.
Walking over on shaky legs, I smooth my damp palms down the front of my uniform apron.
She sits tall, resting her elbows on the counter. Her legs are open, one heel of her heavy black boots hooked higher on the stool than the other. Her jeans are tight, riding low on slim hips, well worn with a small rip over one knee. A tight white t-shirt stops a few inches from the waistband of her jeans, showing smooth lightly tanned skin that I desperately want to touch.
Her knowing gaze follows me as I move around the bar to face her. I can almost feel a pressure on my skin where it touches me.
“What can I get for you?”
“What have you got?” she asks in a low, husky voice. Her eyes lock on mine. Her eyebrows are like a raven’s wings, perfectly shaped, drawing my attention across her arresting face.
“Pretty much anything, as long as it’s deep fried and unhealthy,” I say wryly.
She laughs. The sound is low and rough and strokes over my nipples.
“Always tastes good, though, don’t it?” she replies. That smirk plays across her mouth again as her gaze drops to my lips. “I’ll just take a coffee for now. Think I’ll get something sweet in a little while…”

Thanks for reading!

Purchase Let’s Ride:
Evernight | Amazon | All Romance | Bookstrand

About Rebecca Black:

Rebecca Black is a Yorkshire girl born and bred. She is first and foremost a voracious reader and lately an author of erotica and erotic romance. She believes that the hottest sex scenes are the ones where emotions are involved (plus lots of dirty talk, lots of spanking, licking and sucking and well… you get the idea). She is the author of A Taste For Three (m/m/f) from Evernight and has several short stories due to be released in erotic anthologies. Rebecca is a regular contributor to the fantastic Cliterati magazine.

Find Rebecca here:
Twitter | Facebook | Facebook Author Page | Tumblr | Goodreads</a

Guest Blogger Xan West Shows Themself to Us With Their New Book Release!!!

I discovered Xan West as an e[lust] judge. Their informative, layered and sexy writing always got to the core of me. It is with a great deal of pleasure that I am the current stop for the blog tour of their new release Show Yourself to Me. Without further ado, I will let Xan show themself to you…

I wrote rough body play before I did it. I’m not talking about erotica stories. I wrote rough body play for the first time during cybersex. Cybersex was one of the first ways I started writing explicit sex, and I wouldn’t be the writer I am today without starting (and getting a hell of a lot of practice) from a place that was about getting us both off over the distance in the glow of a computer screen.

I’d gotten very excited about cybersex from reading Kate Bornstein’s and Caitlin Sullivan’s novel Nearly Roadkill (which I highly recommend, by the way, though it may be hard to get your hands on it). Right at the tail end of the chat years (when people still went onto websites to meet up in chatrooms), around 2001, I exuberantly entered the queer chatting universe, hoping to have an arena for the kind of gender play and D/s I was aching to explore.

It turns out some things are easier to translate to textual interaction than others. Folks in meatspace BDSM communities are quick to scoff about online BDSM, and they have a point about a good portion of what goes on. But there are some things that live textual interaction can create more space and ease for, especially at first. Gender play is one. And there are some kinks that you can do online and get to really beautiful hot places. Psychological play and role play being really good examples.

It’s risky to go to some places with a stranger, even over the internet. I definitely learned that in those explorations. And, there are some places you can try to go in your mind, over text, but if your body doesn’t know them…it just doesn’t even come close.

So, I was doing a dream of a pirate captain/cabin boy scene, bottoming to this hot butch in a private chatroom. It felt so visceral, so real, such a gorgeous intense exchange, that when she started the rough body play, I went with it. Even though really I had no idea what it would feel like to get punched in the chest, or kicked in the thighs. I didn’t know what boots driving me into the rough wood of the deck of a pirate ship might be like, what would happen in my body when she placed her boot on my neck and looked down at me. I just tried to imagine it: visceral, intense, jarring, hot. I guessed that it would probably make me feel so alive and aching, so full of sensation and feeling. She thought I could take it, wanted me to take it for her, and there was nothing like the confidence of a Dominant to capture my stubbornness and my sense of my own strength. I wanted to take it for her, and in this online arena, nothing could stop me from doing so.

As it turns out, my last scene as a bottom was with that very same butch. She turned out to be so damn handsome and tough and I didn’t even think to say to her that I wasn’t sure I could bottom that hard, that I didn’t know if my body could do in life what it could do in my imagination, in a chatroom at midnight. I was a novice in so many ways, and one of the things I didn’t know was what my physical limits were, how much I could take. I’d had chronic pain conditions for years and had survived a hell of a lot of bad pain. I thought if I could do that, good pain was no problem.

I wanted to take a lot of pain. Not for her, but for me. I’d emerged from an abusive D/s relationship just a few months before, and I wanted to show myself that I was tough, a survivor. And I did. For years, I could think back to that scene, to how it felt to recognize my own toughness in what was a combination of strength, endurance, and stubborn will. I could think back, and draw from witnessing my own courage, in choosing to bottom again, in choosing to bottom in this way, in choosing to take way more pain than I ever had in play before.

Against a wall, in a public dungeon, I felt the things I’d only imagined feeling when I was cybering with her imagining myself on the deck of a pirate ship in front of the whole crew. It did make me feel so damn alive, so deeply in my body, like I thought it would. I stuck my chin out and took it, and reveled in the intensity of the sensation, what it felt like to take punches and kicks, how deeply queer and gorgeous this kind of play was. How it was so close to what I’d dreamed it would be.

I was riding this amazing wave of adrenaline. All the while I was marveling at how play like this, that looked so much like violence, could feel like care and respect and joy, while something that looked like sex and sweetness could feel so much like terrifying soul-killing violence.

My skin blossomed so fucking fast. I think that’s why she called the scene, because I was so damn black and blue, so damn early. Or maybe she guessed that I was too high from the play and too fucking stubborn that I wouldn’t have done it myself. I’m not sure. I just know that she wrapped up, and that she was still so full of adrenaline, she was almost shaking.

Calling a scene is not easy on anyone. I respect her for doing it, and thinking on it now, I have so much compassion for both of us. I was not able to support her as a bottom in the ways she needed. I didn’t know how or even know it was my job to do that, had shitty models for BDSM and little education outside of books. I had orchestrated my own transformative scene, but I hadn’t given her the information she needed to be a partner with me in that. (And she hadn’t asked me much of anything, had done quick and dirty negotiation more appropriate to an experienced heavy player than a novice like me.)

I stopped bottoming after that scene. It changed me, felt like it had washed me clean, given me a touchstone memory of bottoming that was wholly different from the abuse I’d endured. So that I didn’t feel like bottoming had been stolen from me by my abusive ex. I had taken it back for myself. Stopping after that scene was a way to stop from a place of strength.

I don’t recommend this path for transformative play, or rough body play. I became a kink educator to help people find other options. I have written story after story about rough body play, transformative play, and edge play in order to offer multiple models of doing this differently from how I did it that night. Models that are more careful and mutual and caring and risk aware. Because I know that so many people, especially trauma survivors, go to sex and relationships and BDSM seeking transformation and intensity and healing. Because I want people to dream bigger than I did. To dream up ways to meet their desires that can include more trust and honesty and care for each other. To dream of ways to play where they can bring all of who they are and be recognized in the fullness of themselves.

Show Yourself To Me is a collection where tops get to be vulnerable and bottoms get to support them. Where sadists get celebrated and honored. Where submissives are recognized as strong and powerful. Where folks work hard to create arenas for pushing edges that feel like safe-enough containers. Where tops and bottoms support each other in seeking transformation through BDSM. Where queers create play that is deeply mutual, clearly negotiated, intensely intimate, and full of courageous honesty. Where you get to see the gorgeous possibilities of rough body play, from the inside.

(If you want a taste of how I write rough body play, here is an excerpt from the bottom’s point of view, and here is an excerpt from the top’s point of view.)

Book Description:

In Show Yourself to Me: Queer Kink Erotica, Xan West introduces us to pretty boys and nervous boys, vulnerable tops and dominant sadists, good girls and fierce girls and scared little girls, mean Daddies and loving Daddies and Daddies that are terrifying in delicious ways.

Submissive queers go to alleys to suck cock, get bent over the bathroom sink by a handsome stranger, choose to face their fears, have their Daddy orchestrate a gang bang in the park, and get their dream gender-play scene—tied to a sling in an accessible dungeon.

Dominants find hope and take risks, fall hard and push edges, get fucked and devour the fear and tears that their sadist hearts desire.

Within these 24 stories, you will meet queers who build community together, who are careful about how they play with power, who care deeply about consent. You will meet trans and genderqueer folks who are hot for each other, who mentor each other, who do the kind of gender play that is only possible with other trans and genderqueer folks.

This is Show Yourself to Me. Get ready for a very wild ride.

You can get your copy of Show Yourself to Me via Go Deeper Press, Amazon or Nook. And you can engage with the book on Goodreads as well!

Do not miss the other stops on the blog tour:

October 1: Xan West
October 2: Book Birthday!
October 3: Heather Elizabeth
October 4: Sinclair Sexsmith
October 5: Hermia Swann
October 6: Dilo Keith and Cecilia Tan
October 7: Kinky Brits
October 8: Stella Harris
October 9: F. Leonora Solomon
October 10: Tasha Harrison
October 11: Benji Bright
October 12: Tamsin Flowers and Karida
October 13: Cassandra Perry
October 14: Peep Scoop and Radical Access Mapping Project
October 15: Sugar Cunt
October 16: Emily Byrne
October 17: Oleander Plume
October 18: K. A. Smith
October 19: Giselle Renarde
October 20: Butchtastic Kyle
October 21: Lisabet Sarai
October 22: Syrens
October 23: Anna Sky
October 24: Jade A. Waters
October 25: Kal Cobalt
October 26: Rebekah Weatherspoon
October 27: Malin James
October 28: BD Swain and Jillian Boyd
October 29: Kaleigh Trace
October 30: Kiki DeLovely
October 31: Xan West and Annabeth Leong

Wicked Wednesday #175 — Morning

Polly was too refined to have a full out argument with Oscar that morning. Colin teased her that she looked like a flapper when she walked over to him, to avoid having that argument and especially when Eliza walked in with Rafe.Polly smiled softly at Colin, who remembered her from her goth days and when she had dressed up like little Bo Peep. Colin was the reason why she did not make a fuss about Eliza. There was always going to be a connection between her and Colin, they had imbibed each other’s blood as cocktails–how was it not going to be intense between them? Sometimes she felt like she could feel Colon’s heart beat inside his chest, and she wondered if he could feel hers as well.

But to be fair, Colin was pushing things. There had always been an open door for him usually when she was in a relationship, but with Oscar was the first time that she was trying to just be with him. Colin was giving away art that she had never thought he would give away and acquiring art she could not refuse to be in her life. The preview this morning was some of the most exquisite artwork she had ever acquired. And he would only give it to her so it moved up her status at the auction house.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oscar look at Eliza. She had to admit that Eliza was gorgeous. The story Oscar told of picking her up in a bar, when she was engaged to the devastatingly attractive man next to her seemed a bit preposterous. Eliza and Rafe were an it couple, Polly had read about them for years in the gossip columns or seen pictures of them attending events.

Or seen them with Rafe’s sister Fiona, during previews. She never would have guessed in a million years that she and Oscar–that she had been trying to deny her feelings for–would end up in the middle of them. Even her assistant Alice was involved, it seemed incestuous.

But then Oscar’s eyes were on hers. Dark and overpowering.

“You better go to him, no one wants an extra bloody Mary this morning,” Colin said.

Polly stuck out her tongue at him, and he licked his lips.

She turned quickly on her impossibly high heel, and walked over to Oscar.

“I need to be alone with you,” Oscar said, when she walked over to him.

“And pretend I am Eliza?” Polly asked, her arms folded across her sheer blouse and she pulled at her pearl necklace.

“Does it matter?”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She hated herself, because it turned her on like hell that he would be with her and think of Eliza.

“Go to your office, don’t let Alice follow you, and I will be there shortly.”

Oscar had a rough side, and she liked it when he played rough with her.

Polly felt desire tremor through her body, even though she looked completely composed. She almost lost it when she got to her desk. But she did not want to be in a disarray, well not before Oscar put her in one.

She was at her desk, facing the huge windows behind it looking out at the morning that had started so tumultuously and now was calming down. She felt Oscar come down the hall, and her hips shifted as she felt him walk into the room.

He closed the door behind him, before he walked to her and placed his hands on her hips. She closed her eyes and looked out at New York City spread out before her, holding onto her desk like it was New York’s hips.

She did not mind if he was thinking of Eliza because he was with her, and she knew he wanted to be. The same way she did not put her foot down about Colin, even as she knew it pissed Oscar off. Colin was her Eliza. But now she and Oscar chose to be together, they wanted to be together.

When she opened her eyes, the morning sun was high in the sky.

More morning here:

morning by f dot leonora

Hot Off The Presses!!!

I am super excited–not one, but TWO of my articles are live today. One is on Slutist, and the other is on Kinkly!

Go have a looksy, and let me know what you think…

Masturbation Monday No. 57

Graham moved the gun from within her harness slowly, licking his lips. A smile curled the corner of his mouth like a piece of burning paper curls up on the edge. Nichy barely breathed, as she looked him straight in the eye. She was not going to show a bit of fear with him because he would like it, but he would not believe it.
He knew her.
He dragged the cold steel between her breasts, along her ribs, around her navel and between her legs. He paused there, looking into her eyes harder.
“You are fucking wet, fucking wet Nusch…” he whispered quietly to himself as if she was not there, as if he could not believe it.
Nichy wanted to close her eyes, but she could not. As much as she had run from Graham, having him there now was too much to deal with.  She remembered when she first met him. He was the ultimate bad boy, not a pretend one like the ones that she had dated in high school and college, with slicked back hair or wearing leather. He literally was involved in things that she did not know about. He looked at her, and she was done. All she could think about was relieving the itch that she felt. She wanted to caress her clit when she saw him, she was that uncomfortable with desire.
He looked at her with the same intense gaze that he looked at her with now, while caressing her clit with his gun.
His look had been intense when they met as well, they were drawn to each other like she had never been drawn to anyone. She did not hear the music or conversation in the room, she literally floated to him. He was a gentleman, even though she knew he was a rogue deep inside of her. He pulled out her chair, and kissed her hand—acted like he was afraid to touch her.
They did not make love right away, he made her feel like she was going to go crazy before he would even kiss her. Then he did kiss her, his hands on her hips and his lips hungry. Nichy, well she was Nusch then, felt every bit of his desire in his soft kiss. Graham had never had to demand anything from her, she gave him everything that she could. He kneaded her body like dough in the beginning, without any concern to her clit which jerked with need for him. She was so wet, that she felt it coat her anus.
Her anus was wet now as she rode the shaft of the gun. Graham pulled it from her, with Nichy was dizzy with desire. She saw the shaft of the gun was wet with her come, and looked at Graham with a mixture of hatred and desire.
He held the gun at her belly button, she heard it click before he put it down and looked at her. She was still as he loosened the rope about her. Nichy loved how she looked in the harness, loved that he had done it to her again.
All this time, she had been running from him, but after he untied her she swooned. Not from the tingling of her arms from having been up over her head either. She ran from Graham because she knew that she was never going to be able to stay away from him, and he was no good for her. There was nothing good that came from being with him. Her hips still moved as if she were riding the gun.
Graham slapped her breasts, and pinched her nipple so hard she cried out.
“You think I am going to give you what you want so easily? You slut, what were you about to do with that guy?”
 “Gavin!” she shrieked.
“Gavin,” he copied her shriek. “My driver will drive him around until he comes to. But you were going to fuck him, weren’t you?”  Graham stepped back from her, caressing the bulge in his pants. Nichy felt soothed because at least he was hard for her, and maybe he would give her what she wanted.
What she always wanted.
“You like that don’t you, Nusch?” he asked her.
Nichy realized that she was drooling, and she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She wanted Graham so bad, she was not sure what she was going to do…
…if he did not give her what she wanted.
He undid his belt, and unzipped his pants. Nichy licked her dry lips as he offered himself to her, without stepping closer.
“Crawl,” he drawled, and she did. Eyeing his shiny shoes, she heard his belt as he slipped it off but was not prepared for the sting on her back. Nichy arched, and he filled her mouth with every inch of him.
She wanted to be force fed. She wanted it so bad, she drooled and her eyes filled with tears as he shoved it into her mouth. “Sit back on your heels.”
Nichy did as Graham told her.
He left her there.
With her desire, she had forgotten how vindictive he was. He would punish her for running away for this long…

More Masturbation Monday here:

filtered cropped image of TIE ME UP by f dot leonora