This week, I had Exposing 40 and Malin James in mind…
More Sinful Sunday here:
Lovely Guest Blogger and Sexy Reader, Dulce Devine Today!!!
I met Dulce Devine on Twitter because she was such an avid fan of two books I worked on–so clearly she has great taste! Additionally, she is a bewitching burlesquerina, playful pastie popper, published pin up, sensual sorceress, vibrations vixen and tarot enchantress in her own words. I loved that in my interactions with her, she uses as many hearts, kisses and cake emoticons as I do! Plus she has a vintage style that I adore! I wanted to know more about her, so I asked her to come visit me and tell me all about herself and her bibliophilia.
Here is Dulce!
I wanted to be a Rockette, but they wouldn’t even let me audition. You see, the minimum height requirement is 5’6, and I am a petite 5’1, so no kick line for me! Plus, the powers that be (my parents), insisted that I get a “real” job (whatever that means)!
I have always loved literature; therefore, it made sense that I went to college and accepted a position in a public institution. I was almost Dr. DeVine, I pursued my studies while teaching, completed all of my Ph.D coursework, passed my comprehensive exams with flying colors, and started my dissertation. I did a pilot study, wrote three chapters, and defended my proposal before I started butting heads with my committee. I was told that my work had “too much of a feminist and erotica focus.” This was perplexing to me because my research was on contemporary feminist fairy tale revisions…so of course I used a feminist lens! My advisor suggested that my work was simply too provocative for my conservative committee, and recommended that I make revisions suitable for a “more marketable and mainstream audience.”
I was frustrated and unhappy with that choice, and my soul told me it was time to move on, so I left the university and Ph.D program much to the shock and dismay of friends and family.
Last month, I answered another soul calling, when I left my day job in a public institution to create a living doing the things I am most passionate about. Everything from the disappointment of not being able to audition for the Rockettes to my Ph.D studies, has led me to this place and contributed to my blossoming in meaningful ways.
I am a certified reiki practitioner (currently working towards reiki master!), danseuse du ventre, burlesque performer, fitness and dance instructor, tarot reader, pinup model and yogi. I am a quirky Aquarian who loves all things decadent, dancing for delightful audiences, dark chocolate, red wine, delicious erotica, amazing sex, ocean breezes, gloriously crisp autumn days, vintage lingerie, and glitter. When I am not working, you will most likely find me barefoot, wearing faded Levis and a lace tank top and curled up with a good book.
Books have always been an important part of my life. One of my earliest memories of reading was when I was in first grade. My parents got called into a conference, and I was in trouble! Why? Because my class was divided into three reading groups: accelerated, grade level, and below grade level. We had one teacher and no assistants, and while Mrs. S was working with the grade level group, my accelerated group and the below grade level group were left to read independently. Not a problem for my group as we happily dug into our books, however, I noticed that the third group looked sad and confused. I snuck over to them, circled them up and read to them. It was wonderful until Mrs. S discovered me! I thought I was being kind and helpful, but she thought I was trying to hijack the class, and I ended up banished to the corner by myself as punishment. No one was allowed to talk to me while I reflected on my “bad behavior.” I’m still baffled by her reaction but it didn’t influence my love of books!
In high school I discovered Anais Nin. I remember being completely enthralled by her beautiful, haunting and bold words. I continue to read her work now and then, as it impacts me differently today as compared to the curious schoolgirl I was bintroduced to a lush and erotic new world.
Regarding my Ph.D work, highly influential books for me were: Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel, Chocolat by Joanne Harris, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins, The Rose and the Beast by Francesca Lia Block, and Kissing the Witch by Emma Donoghue.
Powerful books not related to my research that have stuck with me for a long time: Slammerkin by Emma Donoghue, Le Divorce by Diane Johnson, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon, and Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern.
Of course I enjoy erotica, so I must mention the Sleeping Beauty trilogy (Anne Rice as A.N. Roquelaure) which I did not use in my research but should have! I adore erotic anthologies–delicious morsels which can be enjoyed in small bites, when schedules are busy but you need to have a sexy escape. Recent anthologies I have enjoyed are Chemical [se]X edited by Oleander Plume, Tie Me Up: a Binding Collection of Erotic Tales edited by F. Leonora Solomon, and Flappers, Jazz, and Valentino edited by Jillian Boyd. These super sexy anthologies are a wonderful way to discover crazy-talented writers you might want to explore further. You will be on alert when some of your favorite editors have a new project they are teasing (ahem… ). I’ve been reading Tamsin Flowers’ Alchemy xii series with its monthly installments, and that’s been tons of fun too. There is so much yumminess out there…what are you waiting for? Reading is sexy!!! I love to ask people what’s on their bedside table (or on their Kindle, idevice, etc.) if I’m looking for a recommendation. Currently on mine… Red Hot & Holy: A Heretic’s Love Story by Sera Beak.
Ahhhh, Dulce! Dulce also writes poems, maybe hopefully she might write for me one day? In the meanwhile while I dream, here is a dreamy tarot poem of hers:
Cheek to a cool, polished surface, listen for the doubt, black satin hitched, large hands palm peach-soft flesh, kneading, needing, ballet-pink lace resists, relinquishes, dew-drop tears glisten in a fluorescent glare
Wicked Wednesday #167: Ferrari
Carla was very happy when she was having drinks with Marcus and Elliott alone. It was obvious that Marcus had a thing for Eliza, even before she saw them kissing.
Even before she saw Elliot watching them kiss secretly.
Marcus looked at her now, with her thighs pressed to Elliott’s. He teased her with his eyes because Elliott was not available to her, but he could never understand the connection that she had with Elliott.
Her current stardom was a far cry from her not so distant past.
She had run away from an abusive boyfriend, and moved to New York. Even her life savings was not enough for her time there, and she ended up on the streets, asking people for money. One day, a man dropped a bouquet of roses at her feet, and knelt down to her to tell her how beautiful she was. Being on the street had encouraged her not to show her emotions. But when she looked down at her roses when the man walked away, her warm tears scalded her already warm skin. She pressed her head to her knees, so no one would see her cry.
When she looked back up, she saw a Ferrari out of the corner of her eye. It was the man who had just given her the bouquet of roses. The man who had knelt before her in his three-piece suit, and called her beautiful.
Elliott.
Carla was in such a bad place when she met him, that he did not need to convince her that he was legit. That he had all it would take to make her a star. She thought she would need to sleep with him to pay him back for everything he did for her.
Including letting her live with him.
What was she supposed to think when he asked her to live with him? He was beautiful and nothing but a gentleman to her, with a sparkle in his eye that made her unthink everything she had ever thought about men in suits…Her ex had worn suits every day. Carla had paid him back for everything he had ever done for her, in more ways than she would ever have believed.
So when she crawled into Elliott’s bed to wake him up with a blow job, Carla was startled when he caressed her face softly and pulled himself out of her mouth.
“Darling, your mouth feels divine, but no…”
She caressed his stomach, and looked up at him from between his thighs.
“You are beautiful, I want to show you how appreciative I am for everything that you have done for me Elliott.”
He caressed her face even softer, as he sat up.
“You’re beautiful too Carla, and if I liked women, I would have been all over you by now…”
Carla stared at him with a smirk, the taste of him still fresh on her tongue. She licked her lips to savor the taste of him there as well.
Only Elliott could have handled that situation in such a classy way. They slept together chastely that night, and she loved him even more since then. She wanted nothing but the best for him, because he was the best as far as she was concerned. Sometimes she was struck by his beauty, but she loved him and he loved her in a much deeper way.
Her legs crossed at the bar, she caressed the bouquet of roses that Elliot had brought to her dressing room earlier. He got her roses all the time for non-occasions. Their thighs were pressed together, Carla felt the tension on his where she rested her hand as they looked at Marcus.
“I have to take this call, it’s Sandrine…”
Marcus walked away.
“You still love him…” Carla said aloud, before she realized Elliott could hear her.
Elliott looked at her, cradling his scotch.
“Don’t Carl,” he said, calling her the masculine diminutive he used to be gentle because she had touched a nerve. “Besides we would fight each other for him, wouldn’t we?”
Carla took his scotch from him and took a sip, so she could feel the liquid fire inside of her.
More hot rods here:
photo by f dot leonora
Prompted: The Anthology!!!
I was not planning to enter this contest, but since my friend Oleander was lovely enough to host it–I did! Julia Von Rist was the winner, read her story here, and find the rest of the results here!
And then? This prompt/contest turned into an anthology, courtesy of the genius of Oleander! She asked me to be her co-editor, as we have worked on two anthologies together already (Chemical [se}X and Tie Me Up). This third time is already the charm!
I hardly think this is going to be our last endeavor, in fact I know it is not! But this is our third project, and I am pleased as pie. Oleander wrote an amazing post about Prompted yesterday along with the cover reveal. The cover is a photograph I took, with warm shades of magenta…I was on the train, and took this picture based on a comment that sub-Bee made on this post. I took the photo, because it reminded me of the image that she described:
There is something truly hot about being on my knees in front of a man in a suit.
Here is a teaser from my story, to get you by until Prompted is out! Make sure to follow our Twitter and Facebook page, as well!
Veronica wanted him so bad, sometimes she couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t because he was one of the top executives in her company, she had ached for him before that. When he was an architect just out of grad school she had, and now he was a partner at the firm. She started as a receptionist, and now she was an executive assistant.
His.
Their careers were in very different directions, but they had known each other the entire time. He did not have that air about him that so many of the others at the firm did. He was always accessible and warm to her. Whether he was going to a meeting and wore jeans á la business casual–the way only he knew how–or he was in a three-piece suit, his affect on her was almost fatal.
He had a particular passion for watches, his one excess, his one vanity and she admired it. He had catalogs from all of the auction houses on a shelf in his library. She got them all, either walking to the one that was near them or having them messengered over.
Veronica bid for him over the phone. He never had a limit, he just expected her to win it and she always did. Including one for his former fiancée. It had been hard for her to look at the delicate diamond piece that he had selected for her. Veronica knew he did not ask for it back when they ended their engagement, and that made her crush on him even harder.
If that was possible.
Her fingers moved languorously over the red tab that marked the pocket watch that he had his eye on. She let her finger linger over it, imagining it on his lightly haired wrist. Veronica especially wanted to win this watch for him. He was moody since he had broken up with his fiancée, and it was would cheer him up.
Veronica waited on the phone, while she was looking at his schedule. Being his right-hand also meant that she was responsible for all of the administrative staff, so when a literal fight broke out between two of her admins…she had to run to break it up.
When she came back to her desk, she had underestimated the time it would take for his lot to come up. Damn it! She had missed the lot! His lot!
It was with a heavy tail between her legs, that she knocked on his door. He sat inside facing it.
“Can you close the door, Veronica?”
She nodded, her tight chignon even tighter as she did.
“You were not at your desk, and you missed the lot.”
“How did–“
She wanted to snatch back her words, how dare she question him? Nervously, she tugged at the edge of her silk blouse first, then her pearls.
“How did I know? I just happened to get off of my conference call early, and was going to tell you I could do it for a change. When I buzzed you, you were not at your desk…”
She twisted the pearls, and bit her lip.
“You’ve never disappointed me before V, this is uncharted territory for us. You are always perfect. How are you going to make me feel better…about this?”
The length of his gorgeous tall frame was slouched in his chair.
“So much is going wrong around me V, and now even you…”
“I always want to please you–“
He raised an eyebrow at her. His desolate expression shifted, as he studied her face.
“I usually please you don’t I?” she asked.
He sat up straight, and suddenly in her silk dress that was only sheer on the top and the edge of the skirt, Veronica felt transparent.
“You always please me V, you always have…”
Veronica was unable to breathe, as he stood up and walked toward her. His finger caressed a tiny polka dot in the sheer area of her dress.
“There is only one thing I want more than that watch, and it cannot be bid on. You do not have a price tag do you Veronica?”
“What do you mean?!” She huffed, her breasts rose between them.
“I phrased that clumsily, I meant you are not for sale. But I want you…I’ve always wanted you.”
Veronica saw that iconic scene from Butterfly 8, when Elizabeth Taylor writes “No Sale,” on a mirror with lipstick.
“But what about your fiancée?”
“I wanted you first…”
“But you never…”
“We work together so I never, but now only you can make me feel better…”
He kissed her, and she pulled away from him panting. He caressed her scalp and loosened her chignon, before he steered her back gently against the door. Veronica held his hand, her finger slipping inside the band of the gorgeous watch he wore today. He took her hand and put the watch on her, slipping it up along her arm until it fit.
“That’s all I want you to wear right now…” he said pulling at his tie.
Veronica took his hand, and kissed it.
“You can leave your suit on, and tighten your tie.”
“Why?”
“It’s how I always imagined it when I fantasized about you…”
Masturbation Monday No. 49
Nichy was lying on the floor on her back, her heels pressed up to the edge of her butt. She looked up at the high ceiling, and closed her eyes. It looked like she was in a church that had been repurposed as a cell, but there was nothing holy about her or Dorian. The room she was in now was cool, not at all warm like the first room. It was gray and granite, truly looked like a cinematic prison. Dorian sat in a chair next to a pitcher of water, looking away from her. He was subdued after her first and only attempt to escape. She was scared, Dorian had always been so temperamental, and she never knew which card he would play at any given moment.
Squirming on the floor, his eyes surveyed her body at her first movement. He stared at her until she stilled. She did not want to arouse him in any way.
Particularly not sexually.
Her relationship with Dorian had been full of moments where she had been sexually voracious. Sometimes she was not able to leave him because the sex was so good. But this right now, was not a card he had ever played. She would never have suspected that he would find her, and capture her like a wild animal. She kicked her legs out, and his eyes jumped with the movement.
“You can’t have just left me like there was no responsibility Simona. You left, and left me to pick up the pieces. I barely did. I took you to let you know I am still here. That you left me, but I found you. I will always find you because I have to.”
Nichy whimpered.
Dorian got up from the chair, and knelt between her legs.
Nichy tensed.
Everywhere.
She lifted up on her elbows, and he sat back on his haunches reverently.
“You’re scared of me,” he said soberly.
“I am terrified! You hunted me, what do you think I am going to feel?”
“I missed you Nichy, I missed you, I didn’t know what else to do. You left me…”
“Let it go Dorian, let me go.”
“That guy, the one you work with…I guess that is who you are with now?”
Nichy lie back on the floor again, because she did not want to look at him. Looking at him, she would start to believe his story. Dorian was good at telling a story that made you believe everything he believed. He was convincing, she had always believed everything he told her. She believed him, that he thought this was the only way he thought he could reconnect with her. But he could not make it okay that he took her against her will. She had not left entirely because of him, but she could not be with him anymore once she left. It was all so complicated.
On her back, she remembered what it was like before she left him. She had needed to act like everything was okay, not like there was anything different. They were in bed, and she had caressed him softly at first. Dorian could not take an overload of stimulation because he got very excited when she played with him. She caressed him more firmly, loving the feeling of his shaft in her hand. She loved feeling the of his skin there, knowing she was exciting him and feeling his excitement. Drowsily caressing him, she fell asleep and woke up with her hand still between his legs, his hand over hers.
Nichy finished the job upon waking, savoring the eruption of his ejaculate. She licked her fingers after. Each one slowly, because she knew she was not going to ever do that again.
When she felt Dorian’s hand on her knee, she was abruptly brought back to the present. That moment, that space in time where she and Dorian were insatiable lovers had evaporated.
Her legs tightened versus this version of Dorian that she did not trust, and who she did not know what he was capable of.
“You never used to be afraid of me…”
“Let me go…” she replied feebly.
More Masturbation Monday here:
prison via wikipedia
Sinful Sunday, Week 226: The Summit
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More Sinful Sunday here:
Wicked Wednesday #166 — Crumpled
Oscar returned to his apartment in the morning, the sun was just starting to come up. Polly’s red bra was on his crumpled sheets, when he went into the bedroom.But he did not see her.
He did not expect to, what was he going to say to her? Obviously, he had overstayed his visit with Eliza. He could smell Eliza’s perfume and her skin on him, what was he going to tell Polly?
It was always easy to plan to stop loving Eliza, but it was impossible when she was right in front of him.
The first time he saw her was like a fever. The gorgeous, but troubled woman sitting at the bar. Everything was perfect about her appearance, but there was something so troubled about her. When she looked at him, he made a bolder than bold move on her, because he has had been drinking. Trying to build courage to approach her. He wanted to be uninhibited, and he was that night at the bar.
In the midst of his mind’s movie of his memories of Eliza, he remembered Polly falling asleep on him in the car heading to the airport to go to Shanghai. When he got close to Polly, when he let down his guard, which he had let down because he had wanted her. He had not wanted to shit where he slept, bit Polly was irresistible to him. He told Eliza that he did not want to be Rafe’s replacement, but she had been Polly’s, until he fell in love with her for real.
But as soon as Polly softened toward him, he knew he would not be able to resist a chance with her.
Her red bra with its delicate demi-cups that held her small breasts, was on his sheets from when she took it off before she went to bed. He had not kept a secret from her about where he was going, but he realized how fucked up it was when he stood in his bedroom.
And she was gone.
He picked up her bra, and sat on the bed.
Polly walked into the room, in one of his shirts. Unbuttoned, he could see all of her slender body. She walked slowly to the bed, pausing in front of him.
Before she could say a word, he grabbed her athletic legs and muscular bottom. She was slender, but beautifully curved. She sunk deep down to straddle him, and he kissed her. Their kiss tasted of Polly’s sweet mouth, alcohol and Eliza. He cupped her ass, and Polly wrapped her legs about his waist. Oscar pulled away from their kiss, pressed his face in her hair.
“I love you,” he said into her hair.
Polly pressed her face into his chest.
“I love you,” she said, holding his biceps tightly.
Holding her so intimately, he remembered the beautiful feeling that filled him in Shanghai when he was with her. He felt protective and warm around Polly. She was the love that he had that did not hurt, but made him glow like a slow fire. Unlike his love for Eliza which left him to burn.
Luckily, he was able to find his way back to Polly. To hold her again, and love her. Right now, she was to have and to hold…
More Wicked Wednesday here:
photo via this week’s wicked wednesday post
Masturbation Monday No. 48
Nichy was half lying on her seat in the hospital waiting room. Gavin had gone to do some administrative stuff for Ilona. Before she could have given in and invited him to stay in the guest room with her, Ilona went into labor for real.Her body burned with desire now waiting for him. The feeling of Gavin’s tongue between her legs, and along her ass made her almost come all over again with the memory of him.
With a deep breath, she got up to go to the coffee machine, her body thrumming with such kinetic desire she was afraid to move. She leaned against the wall, when she felt Gavin touch her behind. He caressed her in such an intimate way, even though they were nowhere near lovers yet.
She turned around to look at him, and dropped her coffee.
“Simona…”
Nichy looked at the man who was not Gavin standing in front of her. She slapped him briskly,
“My name is not Simona, you bastard!”
She walked away from him, but he grabbed her arm tightly and she knew it would bruise the same way Gavin’s love marks would. He pulled her into a stairwell, and threw her up against the wall.
“You always liked it rough, didn’t you?”
Nichy blinked rapidly, struggling to get away before she was pinned to the wall with her hands behind her back.
“Yes, you always liked it rough. You always liked it when I did this to you Simona.”
Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him.
“I am not Simona!”
Nichy looked away, the man let her hand loose, but grabbed her and covered her mouth.
That was all she remembered.
She had tried to convince him she was not Simona, she really believed if she looked at him with conviction that she would be okay.
Because she had not been Simona for a very long time, and she did not feel like Simona anymore.
The room she was in was decadent. All red velvet, damn it! As she came to, she realized she was in the same hotel she had been in with Gavin.
Sprawled on the bed, her eyes were swollen with tears. She was still in the clothes that she wore when he took her at the hospital, and she did not feel him around. Shooting a glance to the bathroom, Nichy heard water running.
Between her legs still thrummed with excitement, and she was ashamed. He said to her that she had liked it rough. Simona had liked it rough with him, she had liked to put on a show for him. Sitting in a chair facing him a la Christine Keeler, looking him in the eye as she made herself come.
Slow deliberate strokes first, just to titillate the both of them. Then longer, stronger strokes, until she leaned back in the chair with her legs spread wide. Simona had rubbed her stomach and breasts with her own come, sticking her finger inside her mouth after to taste what she was spread like a condiment on her body for him to taste. He fucked her rough, his tongue ragged over her skin.
Especially where she was spread with her own condiment.
Simona and Nichy liked sex, but Nichy was frightened. She had run from this man, run so far away from him. Her days of performing for him were over, completely consciously she ran to the door.
He leaped out of nowhere and grabbed her by the hips.The gentle touch on her backside in his greeting at the hospital, now was replaced by a resounding slap catching her sweet spot. Afraid that she was going to come if he slapped her there again, Nichy was perfectly still. He spun her around to face him.
“What do you want Dorian?”
She looked up at his impenetrable face, like looking up at the sky and not knowing what was to come…
More Masturbation Monday here:
photo by f dot leonora
Sinful Sunday, Week 225: Vintage/Retro – Greetings From Eroticon 2015!!!
In my mind, this image from Eroticon 2015, will be sweetly honeyed with memories of Honey who took this photo for me…
More Sinful Sunday here:
Wicked Wednesday #165: Peeping Tom
She just asked him to hold her, but Marcus needed more of her. He ran his hands through Eliza’s hair, and rained tiny kisses on her temple, cheek and neck. Her body pressed into his for support.
He kissed her mouth, his kiss demanded the answer he wanted for his question to her. Why had she come to tell him about the breakup? Her mouth was soft and pliant, in response against his. He pulled her into a corner with her arms up over her head, and slipped his hand under her dress.
Marcus knew she would be wet. As he fingered her, he savored the softness and wetness between her legs, that she parted for him more even as she squirmed. She sucked on his bottom lip for balance it seemed, and he fingered harder. She was so wet, she took in his fingers with ease. He kissed her neck, as she moved in tandem with his hand.
It was there he saw a peeping tom in the distance…or a peeping Elliott in this case.
Elliott was in the distance, but Marcus could see him…smelled him like a dog in heat. At first Elliott avoided his eyes, Marcus could tell that he did not think he would be caught. When he realized that he could see him, Elliott looked at him unflinchingly while he lit a cigarette.
He was already getting hard but between fingering Eliza and looking at Elliott, he was saturated with lust.
Eliza moved against his hand, and came to a rough orgasm. He kissed her mouth, and held her face before slipping his wet with her come fingers into her mouth. She sucked his fingers ravenously, and slipped her hand down the front of his pants.
“We have company…” he said.
Eliza spun around in the distance, Elliott looked at them both. He stepped out of the shadows, and exhaled smoke.
For a moment, Marcus was paralyzed with a memory as he was about to introduce him to Eliza. Elliott was lighting a cigarette when they went out alone for the first time. He was nervous, because he was all too aware of Elliott. Elliott was his drug at the time, he could not get enough of him. Outside of the restaurant was filled with the scent of cigarettes, and Elliott who smelled clean with a whisper of the expensive cologne that he wore. Elliott looked at him the way he had looked at him while he was fingering Eliza, with concealed but still explicit desire.
“Eliza, this is Elliott, one of the producers of the show.”
Eliza’s eyes lingered on his, before she smiled at Elliott. Marcus had told her about Elliott and him, and she probably wondered if he was the man that he had been talking about.
“Nice to meet you Eliza,” Elliott said, taking her hand.
Marcus swore he saw her quiver when Elliott took her hand. Elliott was effortlessly charming, and Marcus smiled that Eliza was not immune to it. He was the type of man that demanded attention for his demeanor alone, his appearance was secondary.
“Nice to meet you,” Eliza smiled.
Marcus remembered when Sandrine met Elliott, she had also fallen right in love with him. Marcus did not mind so much, because Elliott was not bisexual. He only got involved with men. Sandrine had lamented it briefly, but got over it soon enough.
“Elliott!” the starlet exclaimed, running over to him, and pressing her lips to cheek. She left lipstick on his collar, which she rubbed playfully.
“Carla, you are a very bad girl leaving lipstick on my collar!” Elliott admonished.
Marcus watched Carla look orgasmic, looking at Elliott. He felt semi-orgasmic himself remembering what it was like to kiss Elliott. They were just friends now, but he would never forget what it was like to be with Elliott. What it was like to be in his arms, what it was like to take off his usually pristine suits and mess him up.
Elliott looked away from Carla, and smiled at him. He wondered what Elliott was thinking when he was peeping tomming him and Eliza? And he thought how sexy it was to finger Eliza, while Elliott watched…
Elliot always amped up his desire. He would tell Eliza, and see what she thought about being watched. She had not seemed too concerned, when she slowly took her hand out of his pants and faced Elliott. She seemed so innocent, and made Marcus want her all the more. He stood behind her, pressed himself firmly against her behind.
He wanted her to know what he was feeling.
More Peeping Toms here!
jack vettriano via pinterest