Author Archives: F DOT LEONORA

(Flash and) Fleur Friday No. 12 — Painted Face

Jeanne stopped because the street art painted face on the wall outside of the bar captured her attention. Terrence caught her attention right after.
He was in a button-down white shirt and jeans. She had never really seen him look so casual. He typed on an iPad, and there was a glass of wine beside him. He mirrored what she often looked like when she was writing at home or on the road—in a cafe or bar.
When their eyes met, he shrugged. His shrug was inviting, and she walked in. Terrence stood up, and hugged her. His hug was warm, and a little desperate.
She had not seen him since Eliza broke up with him, when she decided that she wanted to be alone and she did not want to be with anyone. He had just faded away… But seeing him here resurrected her feeling of unity with him when they met in the cafe near Eliza’s apartment, after her accident and used to visit her.
“How are you?” she asked softly.
“Jobless and loveless, but otherwise good.” They shared equally bittersweet smiles, as Terrence studied her. “How are you? How is Eliza?”
“Fine, and good,” she shrugged. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You too.”
It was awkward.They had shared some random texts, but the friendship that had been developing between them got murky when Eliza broke up with him.
Terrence turned to the waiter and pointed at his wine, and then pointed at Jeanne.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, when the wine was placed in front of her.
“What are you working on now? What are you writing?”
Jeanne ran an imagined errant hair off of her face.
“A few stories. I cover a lot of art and that season is starting up, and a lot of cultural stuff.
Art and culture were her savior and grace always. Conversation started to flow between them after that—and a few glasses of the house wine.
“How long do I have you for?” Terrence asked, looking at his watch.
“I was just wandering. I am going to write later.”
“That’s pretty,” Terrence said, caressing her chain and Jeanne looked down. His finger felt molten on her skin, and she watched him caress the word “fleur” on her neck. It was a gift from Mal.
“It was a gift.”
“You are like a flower. Soft, tender…very delicate.”
Jeanne’s face flushed as she continued to look down.
“Are you hungry?”
Jeanne looked up at him, his eyes always matched hers.
She nodded.
When they got up, she swerved a bit, from the wine. Terrence held her waist, and steadied her. She put her hands over his, as she steadied herself from warmth of the wine.
But she was not so steady from the warmth of Terrence which she was starting to love….

This is my newest Fleur Friday, which became (Flash and) Fleur Friday since I am writing it for my Friday Flash meme—you can read those stories here.
Since Eliza and Jeanne are sisters, you can read about Eliza here. Jeanne is close friends with Sabrina, who you can read about here.

photo by fdotleonora

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Wicked Wednesday #326 — Love <3

It was all so familiar, everything was so familiar even though it was in a new place. The entire time that Rafe had been at her apartment taking care of her, they had only ever been in her bed the one time and it was a farewell.
It had felt like farewell, but waking up in her new apartment with Rafe felt like part of their old routine. Because she had woken up beside him for so many years. Rafe looked very comfortable as well. Eliza could see in the mirror across from the bed, as he held her close to him. As usual, he pulled her close when he felt her move awake and she saw his eyelids move from a thin crescent to a flitter.
He kissed her temple, and she closed her eyes. The night before came back to her in a blur… They went out for a fancy dinner, at a haunt they used to frequent. They had a private room, because if people saw them together they would make assumptions and he was engaged to Ingrid now.
Eliza had dressed in a cocktail dress of hers, that she used to wear all the time in the beginning of their relationship. She had put on perfume that she used to wear them—it was supposed to be an ode to their relationship past.
There was not supposed to be a future.
They ate things they liked, and told each other how much they admired each other.
“It was not just what happened with Lila,” Eliza started, putting her fork down. “It was just that I realized that I was not as well-suited for you as Ingrid will be for example.”
Rafe wiped his mouth.
“I never ever wanted to hurt you, but it was all I seemed to do.”
“There was a whole lot of love before there was what severed us, what broke us you know? I will always love you.”
It was saying that aloud that broke her. The tears she caged however, were the tears that Rafe released. She got up, and wiped a tear from his cheek and he took her hand and kissed it.
Kissed her wrist, her elbow—pulled her to him. She fell into his lap, more than sat on it and he kissed her shoulder.
They kissed each other, it was magnetic. He pulled her head to his, and they kissed while she pushed her palms into his thighs for support. She felt him accidentally, and knew what was going to happen between them.
They were going to make love.
Now she was watching him look at her in the mirror, and she saw her face too. She saw love—love that had been hidden and now peeked out from behind its corner. Ingrid and Rafe had an open relationship, so she was not doing anything wrong. Ingrid always said that he still loved her so much, that she knew he would always hold her in his heart…
…and now he was holding her in his arms.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

love via wicked wednesday

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Masturbation Monday No. 208 — Curtains

Sabrina had not realized how much she missed London—England—until she was back with Drew there.
But she had to go back home.
“Why?” Drew asked, wrapping a towel about his waist. The tantalizing bit of hair and skin that was revealed distracted her, but she knew that she had to give him some kind of answer.
For everything.
When Jeanne asked her where she was, she texted her:
London and Drew.
Jeanne texted her back:
Ahhhh.
Jeanne was her only other friend besides Carole who knew her. But with Jeanne, who was always traveling and liked her she guessed as a character—Jeanne did not demand much from her. Sabrina was a character, if there was nothing else about her that defined her more than anything else.
Sabrina let the sheets drop even more from her, and she could see that he liked looking at her as much as she liked looking at him. Their desire was stronger than his curiosity—at least she hoped so. She really did not want to talk to him about why her life was the way it was.
On top of him, her hips moving at a pace to drive him to madness, Sabrina ran her hands through her hair, and then grabbed his nipples. Drew arched up to her, she smiled.
She would fuck him senseless.
And then leave.
She was super quiet while he slept, and the car took her back to London where she returned to her hotel room. Her forehead was damp with sweat from just thinking, and she started to cry. For the loss of Carole, for the loss of herself a thousand times over and for everything in the world that drove tears from her eyes.
There was a rustle by her curtain, and her heart raced. Her heart did not race from fear, she knew exactly what that rustle was.
“I thought you gave up on me,” she sneered, as the bulge in the curtain revealed itself to her.
Graham.
She never felt safe to think he was gone, because when she did, he always returned.
“Did you miss me Nusch?”
Sabrina started to laugh hysterically, and continued taking off her clothes. She never took her eyes off of Graham as she did. She stepped out of her shoes, and absently played with her nipple.
“What do you think?” she said, and let her other hand caress the split between her legs.

More Masturbation Monday here:

curtains via wikipedia

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(Flash and) Fleur Friday No. 11 — Collaboration

It was an odd collaboration, but the flowing sculpture looked amazing transplanted in the cafe. All of them kept staring at it: Jeanne, Eliza and Ingrid.
It was the first time since Rafe proposed to Ingrid, that they were not all staring at the diamond on Ingrid’s finger. Even Karys and Sabrina was obsessed with the ring, and they had not even seen it in person. But even brighter than the ring, was Ingrid.
Ingrid who Jeanne had spotted with Rafe at Eliza’s apartment making love during a storm. Ingrid decided to come clean to Eliza about her relationship with Rafe, when Eliza was stronger after her accident.
Eliza was on the road to recovery now, looking at her you would never have guessed that she was in a car accident. She did not walk with the limp that she had been walking with, and she was a lot less bandaged. She had been gracious, as Ingrid told her about her love affair, and that Rafe had proposed to her.
Ingrid glowed like some sort of radiation, she was so completely in love with Rafe. Eliza sat beside Ingrid, and caressed the lemon on the edge of her water glass. Jeanne looked at Eliza, wondering if she was as okay with the situation she had been presented.
A few weeks ago, Eliza was in an accident and now her fiance who she had been broken up with for less than a year was getting married to the nurse who had taken care of her.
But Ingrid was lovely, and neither of them could being themselves to really dislike her. She was pretty, and in love with Rafe.
“It does not feel weird to me that you and Rafe are getting married,” Eliza mused, staring at the sculpture installation. “It does mot feel weird to me because I feel so different about everything than I did a few months ago.
Everyone makes mistakes in love, Jeanne mused silently. She had made her own share, and Eliza had made hers. Ingrid had surely made hers as well. Hopefully you ended up somewhere where you were so blinded by the future, the past was a lost shadow.
Eliza was in a place where she did not seem to care about love. Her engagement had wrangled love out of her.
Ingrid lived off of it.
Jeanne craved it, she wanted it but she was not sure she believed in it or if it would it sustain her.
The three of them suddenly looked at each other.
“Cheers!” Ingrid said gleefully, alive and not anything like the beautiful flowing sculpture beside her.
She was alive.

This is (Flash and) Fleur Friday! More Flash Friday here. I created quite a challenge for myself. Fleur Friday always follows the Wicked Wednesday prompt that I used this week—and—the prompt I use for Flash Friday!

Monday is Masturbation Monday—see you then?

sculpture via Dr. J

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Wicked Wednesday #323 — Collaboration

“Thank you,” Eliza said to Rafe, standing up. She was still sore all over, but it was time for him to go.

For a broken up couple, they had collaborated nicely on getting her to this point. She was still in pain all over, and was taking pain meds to alleviate some of it. But she was ready to move around.

“Of course.”

They looked at each other. He was not pleading, and she did not want him to. It was over, wasn’t it clear? But it still felt so cold to just let him go. Even though she knew he had already moved on, she did not know with who, but she knew him and could tell.

So not to be cold, she hugged him. And like a match lit, he kissed her and touched her every spot that did not hurt. Between her legs for instance, where she had not even touched herself for days. His finger lingered there, and he knew her—how to make her wet. Countering the pain that she had in trying to move, she was not broken there.

A deep moan, so deep it was almost volcanic surged from her and he covered her mouth as if she was resisting. She was not. She was not sure what her body was capable of, but he had started her up and he had to finish her off. She wrapped her arms about him, and pressed her cheek to his chest. He pulled her close to him, and turned her chin up to his gently. Standing up had been a ginger affair, but he spread her back down over her mattress and pulled her robe apart. She was still, as he kissed her mouth slowly down to her breasts, and never once stopped touching her between her legs. She came like a cough, so suddenly and automatically and still he did not stop.

Touching her.

She remained on her side after, looking at him as he pulled her robe back together. He sat up, and she put her hand on his thigh.

“Thank you again,” she said, and he smiled.

He made sure that she remembered she was a woman, and that was the kindest thing he could have done for her because she had forgotten amidst all of her pain. He bent to kiss her.

“I will always love you, always.”

Eliza felt the tears come to her eyes, and he cooed and kissed her cheek as her tears spilled and wiped them up.

“I don’t want you to cry anymore Eliza, not over me.”

She smiled through her tears, as he kissed her again and then got up from the bed. The weight of his body was a loss, as he walked away from the bed and out of the door.

This was their final collaboration.

More Wicked Wednesday here, Friday is (Flash and) Fleur Friday on my blog. Do you want to flash me—you can now, and every Friday as part of Friday Flash!

collaboration via wicked wednesday

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Masturbation Monday #207/ KOTW 8.16-31: Sea/Ocean

Sabrina was riveted to the canal at Camden Lock, and sometimes she felt that was why she fell for Drew there because it was so romantic at the bar meeting him with Carole…But driving with him to the home that he had in St. Ives, made Camden Town pale in comparison.
Drew looked more relaxed. She got a glimpse of her own face in the rearview mirror, and saw that even with her shaded eyes she looked more relaxed.
Drew took her hand, and they walked into his house after they had lingered at a local pub. The first thing that Sabrina saw was the sea, as if it was coming through the window into the house. It aroused her, the beauty of the sea, and the fact that water had been a scenic part of a lot of her lovemaking with Drew in the UK. He pulled her close at that moment like he could read her mind, and reached under her dress to check.
He had told her not to wear any underwear, and she obeyed him. The slickness between her legs made the skirt of her dress cling to her labia, and that subtle touch was almost enough to drive her to the edge.
“Good girl,” he said, and smacked her bare bottom. Sabrina almost felt like she was on the brink from that simple touch. His second smack really did have her hovering on the edge.
“Don’t torture me…” she breathed out, and was ashamed for the words as soon as she uttered them.
“I am not vindictive N-lady,” he whispered against her temple. Sabrina knew it was awkward for him, he met her as Nichy and now she was Sabrina and she still had explained a damn thing. But they wanted each other so much it almost did not matter. “I want to taste you again.”
Sabina felt her cunt reflect the sea with its waves, as she sat on Drew’s face and he lapped her up. The waves matched her own internal ones, as he parted her cheeks and lapped her up more and more. He smacked between her legs and that made her come so hard, that he persisted to smack her over and over after. Her backside was given attention too, and Sabrina thought that she would shatter like a vase. Shattered, she fell forward and kissed his thighs, licked the hair along them and his balls.
His anus.
He smacked her bottom again.
“You are filthy.” He moaned, as she stuck her tongue inside of him.
She was many things.

More Masturbation Monday here, more Kink of the Week here. Stay tuned for my Wicked Wednesday and (Flash and) Fleur Friday later this week! Flash Friday is now a weekly meme, go on—flash me!!!

seaside via kink of the week

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Elust #109

Solicitation is one of the more emotional pieces I have written for Masturbation Monday. It sent me down a rabbit hole character wise…Tomorrow is a brand-new post, but this is the most recent one, which was also written for Kink of the Week. I am so proud and humbled to be included in Elust, because the company is so elite.

May more Elust 109 Header image swiming naked in a pool

Photo courtesy of Sex Matters ~ May More

Welcome to Elust 109–

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

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

A Picture Is Worth a 1000 Words
House Sitting
Shackles & showers

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Comfort Girl
A Pain in the Neck

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

An idea that didn’t slap me in the face

 

*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!

 

 

Erotic Fiction

Solicitation
Masks
Crescendo
The Key to Room 237: Freya – Part 1
Masked Woman

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Mad World
Be afraid…
“Good For Disabled People”
Why I Take Sexy Selfies

Erotic Non-Fiction

SOFT SEX – HARD SEX
Mating Megan
Alone
Face Slapping ~ a controversial issue?
Fuck toy
Lost Pleasure, Found

Thoughts & Advice on Kink and Fetish

Sometimes love don’t feel like it should
Submission

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Why Couldn’t I Just Ask for Lube?
Sensational
I panicked.
Coming in handy
P is for Polyamory
Racy Red

Poetry

-05.08.18_20:55-

 

 

 

 

 

Elust

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Fleur Friday No. 10 — Nurse

Jeanne had not meant to walk into any of this, she was only there to support her sister. She started to go to see Eliza on her own, and she knew Rafe liked this because Jeanne was not afraid to take basic care of Eliza. She had taken care of her ailing mother and grandmother, and she did not have any qualms about death or illness.
Eliza was looking better, although she was in a lot of pain and it would be awhile before she was able to take care of herself. Some of her bruises looked painful, and Jeanne could only imagine how Eliza felt.
The first time she saw the woman in white in what almost seemed like a sexy nurse Halloween outfit, was a few times after she had been there herself. Once it was just the nurse, and she watched Eliza as she slept. She ran her hands through her hair, when Eliza swung wildly and turned when Jeanne walked in with the key that Eliza had had Rafe make for her.
“She has fitful dreams, I like to be close by when she is asleep,” Ingrid stated.
Jeanne looked at Ingrid—the actual, not made up for Halloween nurse’s name was Ingrid—and nodded.
“I know, I feel scared sometimes too when she is flailing, but I know it is just a bad dream.”
“She’s improved so much though, she was so bad off when she came to me. I willed her back to life almost all by myself.”
“When is your hospital shift?”
“Midnight to 6.” Ingrid answered, as she walked over to the stove, she looked askance at Jeanne.
“Would you like some coffee or tea? Rafe likes the tea that I make, I lived in England for a long time, so I make a very strong tea.’
Jeanne shrugged.
Rafe came back, and looked at Jeanne with a resigned look. Jeanne was not sure how to assess him. He was tired clearly, but he also clearly cared a great deal for Eliza to go through all of this.
They all drank tea when Ingrid poured it for them, and had light conversation. It began to rain, but none of them moved. Eliza responded asleep to the white light that would fill up the dim room, and loud thunder.
The rain was so violent, that Jeanne went to the sectional couch she often slept on much later. She had to admit that she was exhausted as well. She woke up, and went to go to the bathroom when she took pause. White light filled the guest room and through the cracked door, and she saw Ingrid was naked in the room bathed in white light, as opposed to her white nurse’s uniform. Rafe was naked behind her and they both looked labored, but were incredibly silent as they obviously fucked.
Jeanne did not turn on the light in the bathroom, but saw her angst-ridden expression in the bathroom mirror when the white lightning flashed in the bathroom. She did what she had to do, and then scurried back to the couch.
When she got up in the morning, Terrence was sitting beside her. She looked around.
“Where is Rafe? Ingrid?”
Terrence shrugged.
Jeanne shrugged.
Eliza was still asleep, and Jeanne went over to her and soothed her hair for the comfort her sister did not know she needed…

This is Fleur Friday! Ingrid was introduced in my last Wicked Wednesday in which the theme was Uniform. Things are pretty intense for Masturbation Monday as well!

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Wicked Wednesday #324 — Uniform

Rafe felt like he was in the middle of one of the melodramatic movies that Eliza had begun to watch on her iPad. She did not move a lot, but at the least she had stopped crying as much as she had been.
He knew that she did not want him there, but she was too weak to fight him. She slept a lot, and when she was awake she let him feed her when she bothered to eat.
But it was the uniformed Ingrid, standing in the middle of the living room that caused him the most grief. It would be his luck that the one time he slipped while he and Eliza broke up this time, that he would have had something fleeting with the woman who would end up being her nurse.
Ingrid was legitimate in her concern for Eliza, she had been caring for her while she was in a coma. When Rafe was called and appeared, Ingrid looked startled. But she masked it by being professional while Eliza was around. When Rafe asked about what he would need to do as her primary caretaker, Ingrid told him in painstaking detail about the care of the cuts and bruises Eliza had suffered—dressing and cleaning them. Giving her her pain medication, her diet—all of this Ingrid detailed patiently.
“I did not expect to see you again?” Ingrid started after she was done.
Rafe shook his head in agreement, and they both just stared at each other.
Rafe had been in a business meeting at a bar uptown, he was feeling particularly low and had definitely had more to drink than he should have. He was focusing more on Eliza, and only occasionally went to this Lila who was now the bane of his existence’s apartment where she dominated him.
When he saw Ingrid, he saw she was looking at him shyly. She was at the bar with two other people, but she was riveting. Her hair was pulled up and she looked retro, but current and beautiful. They just exchanged looks at first, but graduated to him offering her his hotel room card. She did not have to use it, because she was kissing him and touching him as he opened the door. Her warm breath went through his shirt, and her hand was on his thigh.
Now he looked at her, and she looked like a scrubbed down version of herself from that first night.
“Me either,” he said, looking at her with slit eyes so he could barely see Eliza in the background. Ingrid in all white was a blur, but in his full vision.

More Wicked Wednesday here. Did you read my Masturbation Monday/Kink of the Week this week? And Friday is Fleur Friday!!!

uniforms via wicked wednesday

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Masturbation Monday No. 206 & KOTW — Ashes

Sabrina felt trapped in the corner of the booth beside Drew, as she looked at Damaris and Gui across the table. It was startling how much Damaris looked like Carole, and how even though they were nothing alike, they had the same mannerisms and voice.
Drew was relaxed as he kept her to the side, he knew she would be still at his side. This game they were playing. Of course he knew who she was, and how long would she pretend to be another incarnation of herself?
Finally, Gui took Damaris’ hand, and she followed him like she would follow him anywhere. Sabrina still was shell-shocked watching them be a couple, when Carole’s ashes were on the table. It was all in a box, with Carole’s name peeping out of the side. It was callous to see her name on the cardboard box.
That was what was left of her friend.
She had not even realized that she had been crying, until she felt Drew’s hand on her face almost like a slap because she had turned so suddenly to face him. He had slapped her face during sex before, he had caressed it delicately and slapped her as she was about to come. She could not decipher the sensation between pain and pleasure as he had done so. It had not been a hard slap, but enough to make her look at him
“I want to see your eyes on me,” he had commandeered.
“I am sorry for your loss,” he said presently, his hand on her knee.
Sabrina looked down at the table, felt the weight of the it shift as Damaris took Carole’s ashes off of it. She looked at Drew as he had wanted her to when he slapped her during sex. He looked like liquid in her eyes, because she was between tears.
“Thank you,” she said, and he kissed her. They were alone now, and she was grateful for it. The things that lips said when pressed together, was a soft litany that brought peace to her.
He pulled her close to him.
“I died when you left, you know? I died when you left, I was so in love with you and you left me,” he murmured.
He blurred in her eyes as the tears came full into her eyes, and fell warm above her cheeks. She was sad about Carole, and guilty about Drew. Even without looking at him, she could feel that she had killed him. She could feel the blood warm, that she made seep out of him.
She remained silent.
“I have a hotel room, I am not going to ask you. But here is the room card…” he started.
He got out of the booth, and she watched his long legs walk away.
Frozen for a second, she followed him.
She did not want to be alone.
He slapped her softly to make her look at him, when they were in bed. He slapped her face, her breasts and between her legs as if to wake her up.
The blood on the surface made her feel alive, before he even slipped into her. When he entered her, she felt the depth of his emotion like fire and she slapped him. His cheek was rough under her palm, and he took her hand. Kissed it, and moved as deep into her as he could.
Sabrina felt sure that when he left her body, she would be cold as a corpse.

More Masturbation Monday here, and more Kink of the Week here. Don’t forget to read my Wicked Wednesday and Fleur Friday later this week!!!

cremation via wikipedia


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