Category Archives: erotica

Valentine

Oscar took her out to a fusion pasta restaurant that she loved. Bibi was asleep in her stroller, her breathing soft and visible. Eliza touched her daughter’s lips, before she twirled some spaghetti on her own fork.

This was her valentine from Oscar. He made a gesture for every holiday, and she enjoyed spending time with him. She loved seeing him with Bibi, and she could tell that Bibi loved him as well.

“Those were gorgeous flowers you got Cleo,” She said to him, looking in his eyes. “We skyped today and she showed me.”

Oscar nodded, and she knew that she did not have any place even mentioning Cleo to him but she saw the flowers. Saw their relationship was developing, and she was not sure that she wanted Cleo that close to her. Because if Cleo was in a relationship with Oscar she was going to have to know about them.

She would have you know if Eliza was still sleeping with him…

“We met at your parties, she’s not what I was expecting…”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s quirky.”

Eliza smiled because she did not want to say anything more. She wanted him to have a relationship that he enjoyed—especially after Chloe.

On her side much later, bracing the wall, Eliza groaned softly as Oscar moved in and out of her. It felt too good—better than when they had sex at Bibi’s birthday party. He was rougher than usual—she craved it. He squeezed her breast and bit her neck as he came closer and closer. Eliza lost it with all of the sensation, and cried out—covering her mouth almost immediately because she did not want to wake Bibi up.

Oscar covered her mouth when her hand fell away, and squeezed her breast harder which made her bite the inside of his hand and he came as she did. They both pressed closer together. He squeezed her breast even more and she murmured gibberish. 

It was bliss.

 

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Aaron

His name was Aaron.

Even as she tried to keep it anonymous—and Mathilde had been successful for the most part….Aaron lingered for the early morning after they were together, but she escaped him with a kiss. A long lingering kiss, him pressing him up against the door jamb naked and neither of them caring if anyone walked through the hallway and saw them. The doorjamb was between her buttocks, as he caressed every inch of her body like he was memorizing her.

She remembered him as she got dressed after he left, it had been an amazing night and she had forgotten how nice it was to be with someone more than once even if it was over the course of the night. And she was thankful for it.

And then he came back, Mathilde gawked at him and he took her hand.

“Good you are dressed, let’s have breakfast,” he said.

What could she say, she was hungry but she did not want to eat with him and his colleagues.

“You go, have breakfast with your colleagues,” she smiled.

“They all had early morning flights—frankly so did I but I blew it off…”

She walked with him, and they got into his car. The drive was picturesque. Mathilde loved big cities, and this city was big for where she was but not like New York where she had lived most of her adult life. In New York, she did not see the scene that she saw with the sky so vast and the sun blowing kisses at her.

The sun was still blowing kisses as she sat in the dinner with him.

“What is your name?” he asked, and his long legs touched her bare ones under the booth.

“Mathilde,” she said easily, not looking up at him  taking a mouthful of scrambled eggs. 

“Look at me, I love your eyes.”

She looked at him, and it was on right away. 

There was a small puddle of people in the diner and the food was amazing. Mathilde got up to go to the bathroom, and he followed her—she felt him behind her. 

It was a tiny room, and she looked at him. 

“I really have to pee!” she said, and he nodded.

“I want to watch you.”

“Get out of here!”

“No, it turns me on. It is a fetish of mine.”

Mathilde really had to go, and had no time to play with him. She pulled up her dress and squatted over the bowl looking in his eyes. He really did look turned on, he adjusted himself as she wiped herself and he took her hand again to kiss it and lick her fingers before she could wash her hands.

“Do you have to go?” she asked flirtatiously.

He nodded and she really did like to watch a man use the bathroom she realized, even if she would not call it a fetish. He zipped up, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Their trip back to the booth was awkward since there were so few people in the diner, but they smiled at each other and held hands when they got back to the table. Their friendly waitress gave them a knowing smile as she placed their check on the table and poured more coffee.

“No rush,” she said.

 

More Masturbation Monday here:

gorgeous image by Molly!

 

 

Heated

Cleo looked at the roses on her desk, and took in their sweet scent. They were from Oscar and she could not have been happier. From the moment that she saw him at Eliza’s for a party, she wanted him. She had always liked him to be honest, they had a brief moment at Bibi’s party when he looked at her—really looked at her even though he had met her several times before.

But that day, he looked a little dazed, and when she started talking to him he looked more engaged and that was all she needed. At Eliza’s last dinner party, he was even more engaged with her and they exchanged numbers—for work.

But Cleo knew as soon as she had his number that she was going to get him in some fashion. He asked her out shortly after—because she almost beat him on the head with her interest without even saying it, but it could not have been clearer. 

On their first date they went to see a surrealist show at a small gallery that they both loved. It seemed even more surreal to her that she was with him. By a Kay Sage painting, they were almost pressed together and he kissed her. She braced herself against the wall, knocked the painting a little and a security guard ran over. Cleo was hot with embarrassment, she felt like the woman who had kissed a Twobley in France though she had not hurt the Sage painting at all.

Oscar took her aside in the dark hallway, and he kissed her again. His hands under her dress, Cleo almost melted like a piece that was part of the show that was an ode to Dalí’s Persistence of Memory. Her soft moans brought another security guard to come look after them, and she was hot with even more embarrassment.

Even hotter for Oscar, she went home with him. She had wanted that all along—she would have skipped the paintings. She had a Kay Sage at her apartment that her father had won at an auction once. It was in her bedroom, and the surrealism ruled as they made love.

Cleo took in the scent of the roses, and heated up all over.

 

More Wicked Wednesday here:

kay sage danger, construction via wikipedia

In Flight

Like a bird in flight, before she could get off of of the edge of the bed, he caught her around the waist. Mathilde would not have admitted it even under the prospect of torture, but she leaned into him in compliance and with resistance. 

Were they still not going to talk? She did not really need to know his name, she just wanted the way that he made her feel. It was sublime, and she wanted to be lost in it.

In him for the time being.

He lie back, and he slid her on top of him. He wanted her to ride him, and she was not opposed to that at all. As they had demonstrated previously they worked well in awkward positions. Sliding up over his thighs and lifting herself to put him inside of her was not the most easy position, but it was instinct and she did it. Her eyelashes fluttered over the top of her cheeks, as she took in the sensation of being full of him again. He groaned under her and she felt the vibration of it under her, and it added to her pleasure. He must have felt her go limp because he grabbed her hips. She was sure she would bruise, but she liked that. She liked the feeling of having been used for pleasure.

Even if she did not want to know his name.

Later when she was dressed, and more in control she tried again to flee, but he pulled her back to him and kissed her forehead. He was tender for a stranger and she appreciated that. But then he her turned around and lifted her face up to his. Mathilde was quiet as she looked into his eyes, he looked down at her and she gulped from his sexiness and in anticipation of the potential end of their silence.

 

More Masturbation Monday here:

 

The Makeup Dinner

To make up for the dinner that he missed, Rafe had a dinner party at their apartment and invited some intimate friends over for it. Eliza liked intimate dinner parties, and having her husband take care of everything was nice.

She just had to attend, and dress up.

In their room right before the guests came, Rafe cornered her in her bra and garter belt. He reached intimately for her, running his hands over her trimmed pubic hair which was damp at her entrance and he slipped his finger easily into her as she braced herself. Holding onto the dresser, she moved against his hand like putty and he made her come so hard she gritted her teeth.

“More later…” he promised, and smacked her bare bottom.

“Eliza, you are glowing,” Cleo commented later, and Eliza felt her cheeks heat up. She smiled, as she continued to wonder about Cleo. Things that Cleo observed about her, made her wonder if she was a frenemy.

“Thank you,” Eliza smiled and swirled her Cabernet Franc in her glass, before taking a sip to savor the delicious liquid. “You look lovely as well.”

Cleo grinned, and clinked her glass with Eliza’s. 

Oscar walked over with his glass, and as Eliza poured more for him intuitively, she noticed Cleo looking at him—really looking at him. She realized that Cleo liked him. She wondered how Oscar felt about Cleo—he did walk over to the two of them.

“Thank you,” he said and clinked glasses with both ladies. Cleo beamed. 

“Cheers!” she declared giving him a full mouth smile that displayed all of her pearly whites.

Later in the evening, Eliza saw the two of them talking together in an alcove of the apartment. The heat of Rafe’s body stirred her as a distraction from that scene, as he kissed her neck and a flashback of their interlude before the party came back to her and she felt a phantom orgasm remembering her pleasure. 

He was going to give her more later, and she wanted it. Three and a half glasses of wine in and their daughter with Jeanne, Eliza was ready for a night of love. She wondered if Oscar was too as he moved closer to Cleo.

 

More Wicked Wednesday—400 weeks celebrated here!!!

Contortionist

Mathilda sat on the edge of the bed avoiding her reflection. Harry’s associate was still sprawled on the hotel bed, and she was not sure how she was going to escape the room.

She felt trapped.

They had had a good night. He came back later after Harry had left with the other men. She was still at the strip club, and one of the dancers seemed to take a shine to her, and lingered at her pole looking at her. Her dance was slow, seductive and mesmerizing, as she held a lollipop in her mouth which she licked while she danced. Licking the lollipop delicately, she made non-stop eye contact with Mathilda, who smiled and kept the contact going.

When she felt the heat behind her, and saw the dancer’s eyes dart away from her she knew he was there. He kissed the nape of her neck, and held her hair to the side. Mathilda leaned into him, and he pulled her close. 

When he tried to talk to her, she ran her finger over his lips to let him know that no words were needed. He pulled her close, and she was okay with him putting his hand at the small of her back and taking her to his car.

She looked out on the dark night, and they got out at the nearest hotel—which was not the one where he was staying at or the one that she was staying at. They got a room, and even though they used no words…

…Mathilda knew he was in control. He positioned her in ways she did not think she could be positioned, and she accommodated him. Mathilda liked to be told what to do—or made to do what her partner wanted. Her body was pliable for him, and the looks they exchanged let him know she wanted it and her know he was appreciative. 

Feeling like something from a circus, that type of contortion, Mathilda could not even believe the pleasure that she gained from that angle and that he had the stamina to control himself as well and move in and out of her.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed, Mathilda was not sure if she wanted to leave, but she knew that she could not stay. She promised herself this time no entanglements—she was going to be free.

Free from what exactly? she thought, her long legs still tangled like a contortionist.

 

More Masturbation Monday here:

 

 

 

All of the Drama — Flashback

Next week, will be Mathilda meeting Harry—this week the last time they met…

Sabrina was silent, she wanted to pretend she was a shadow. Harry jumped out of the bed, erection bobbing and wrapped his arms about her. From there, she turned from a shadow to stone. His warm body felt like ice to her, because she was shocked and because she had not been with him for such a long time.

“Sabrina,” he said, looking in her eyes. She looked at him, and beyond him. “I thought you left me, I thought I was alone.”

She supposed she could not fault him for feeling like that since she had not spoken to him in over a month. She had not answered anything he sent, and had been sleeping with Graham the entire time.

“Yes, I am just keeping Harry company,” Harry’s curvaceous partner padded over to them, and put her hand on Sabrina’s. Harry looked at the woman like she was a ghost, and Sabrina remained stony.

“This is Charlotte,” Harry stated as if he had to. “And yes she is just here because you were not.”

“You’re beautiful,” Charlotte said, standing before Sabrina. Sabrina stared as Charlotte moved in closer and closer. Their kiss was soft, and Sabrina felt compelled to put her arms about her.

Sabrina had no idea what she wanted right now emotionally, but sexually with this saucy woman and Harry who she had missed and craved was too tempting for her to say no.

Unlike the foursome that they had had with Gui and Carole with the mirror overhead, the mirror was to the side as she watched Charlotte slither like a python between her legs, all of her curves on view as she did. The mirror captured the dark desire between Sabrina and Harry, as he took her from behind. Charlotte worked herself over thoroughly, as the animalistic coupling took place shifting her on the bed. Harry felt like he always had inside her, but so removed from him he looked different. Even as her body trilled from the resounding way he made her come, she knew that she would not stay there after.

There was nothing to talk about.

It was a dark symphony, as her trilling still from orgasm body shakily rose from the bed. Charlotte still slithered on the covers, and Harry looked and sounded thunderous as he said, “No!”

In the mirror, it looked like a pornographic opera that would never take centerstage at the Met, but was more dramatic than anything that could ever be presented there.

 

More Masturbation Monday here:

leonor fini image via twitter

When Harry Met Mathilda…

Mathilda only went to the club because she was bored. Not for any other reason. She did not even want to be touched that night, but it had not prevented her from looking.

The club catered to voyeurs and maybe she was sort of one, but her interest here was really just to go to a different place than she had been going to. She had exhausted all of her options at her regular haunt, and it was just truly exhausting to be there. 

Tonight she sipped Montepulciano, and watched couples move together in the light and the shadows. There was one man, she couldn’t quite describe it but he drew her to him. Maybe it was the vibe he gave off like he did not want to be there. He was sitting with several other men, and he watched everything that was going on. And she got it—business trip and the mandatory pit stops that required a strip club or a place like this. 

This man was literally face to face with two women licking each other like ice cream. It was rather sexy to watch the two curvy women go at it. They made it look so real, like they could not keep their hands off of each other.

Harry used to tell her about stories like this when they were together. They would watch porn with stripper themes after sometimes, and he would look vacant while she tried her best stripper moves on him to entice him. It always worked, and she always ended up being rewarded with the pleasure he had not displayed on his business trips or before the porn.

Mathilda had enjoyed sex with Harry so much, she had loved him and maybe if things had not gone the way that they had she would have stayed with him.

Stayed for once and not run away from her life.

She put her glass down, and suddenly the bored businessman turned around.

Mathild dropped her glass, and the crash of glass did not make anyone really stop. Except for that man.

Harry…

More Masturbation Monday here:

One Year Old

It was her own fault, she had let it happen.

It was Bibi’s birthday party, and the secret that Eliza learned was that that young it was really just an adult party. She and Rafe catered the entire thing, and there was flowing liquor which made everyone happier.

She was starting to work from home, so she even invited some of her coworkers to the party and it was lovely. Bibi looked like a doll,  and she enchanted everyone. She looked like a mini her, and it was clear that Rafe doted on their little girl. 

And Oscar, he was her godfather and was as easy with her daughter as if she was his. She saw Bibi, on his lap, and Oscar’s love for her was so obvious.

Eliza turned to tiptoe out of the room, but Bibi went exposed her and she could not help but pick her up and kiss her belly which made her squeal with delight. 

Oscar stood up next to her,

“She is beautiful, just like her mother.”

Eliza smiled, and handed her baby to Jeanne who had walked into the room. She was going to follow her sister and daughter, but she felt Oscar’s hand on her shoulder.

“I have to ask you again Eliza, is she mine?”

Eliza swallowed and looked up at him. She could smell the soft Laphroaig on his breath, and his hand dug into her not with pain but with passion.

“Rafe is my husband and her father, I told you that.”

“Eliza—” he started, but then moved his hand and kissed her neck.

She couldn’t take that from him right then, but he kissed her and sucked on the soft skin there. Eliza closed her eyes, and imagined how many times she imagined if she had married Oscar and he was Bibi’s father. Not because she did not love Rafe, but because she could have made that happen.

She did not.

“Oscar—”

“I need you,” he breathed, and she heard him unzip his pants. 

That sound was Pavlovian, she wanted what it meant so much. In the dark corner of the apartment, it was just the two of them and she wanted it.

He always made her world spin, but she did not want it to spin out of control…

 

More Wicked Wednesday here:

A New Chapter

Mathilda had on a lovely dress for the ball–well it was a small ball at the hotel bar nothing special but it was a new year/new you. Although she had already had a new self, she was happy to expect even more for herself for the new year.

“Are you alone?”

Mathilda turned around, and there was a man  hovering over her.

“Are you?” she countered.

“Not if you join me.”

Well,” she stood up. “I am my own date tonight, and I want to keep it that way.”

“But what about when the ball drops?”

“We are not in New York, so that does not matter. Whatever it is they do here it doesn’t matter either.”

She walked away from him, and could feel him watching her so she gave him something to see.

Mathilda did not want to be alone when the ball dropped, she wanted to be with the person she loved the most–herself–but that didn’t mean that she could not bring her memories with her.

Alone in her hotel room, she remembered having a threesome with Harry, Carole and Gui. The mirrors above them and their bodies squirming about, and all attached with each other by one orifice or the other. She remembered watching Harry and Gui, and how it turned her on to watch them make out.

Sometimes she thought about Harry, how much they had meant to each other and how now…what could she have expected from him when she knew he was a voyeur regardless of any other crimes he may have committed?

But she had loved him watching her, and he would not have joined him watching her now with her dark hair about her and her eyes focused on herself in the mirror. He could pretend she was looking at him, and he would reach for himself like he had when they were neighbors.

Before she moved in. 

That was when all her troubles began–when she invested. 

She panted, as she came thinking about committing. It was lovely in theory but it never worked for her in reality.

 

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