Category Archives: meme

Love Match

She left, she was happy that she had managed to leave because it had seemed that she was not going to be able to for awhile but she did.

She left Aaron before it got more tangled than it already was…

That was why Mathilde had left the last time—and every other time to avoid entanglement. This time she decided that she needed to leave the country. Once before she had wanted to go to Paris to forget everything, and everyone. There were people that she knew in Paris, but she was not going there for them.

One of them had died, and that person would have been the one person that she would have wanted to be with now. To talk about everything with.

Now she knew that she was going to be on her own.

Her French was light but she executed it like a gun, so it was easy for her to move about and not have people answer her back in English. Sitting in a hotel bar however, of course she met an American who she could tell was going to hit on her. Lucky for him he was kind of attractive so she was not immediately going to shoot him down.

He put down his international New York Times after a time, and she braced herself.

“Can I get you a free drink?” he gestured to the complimentary bar.

Mathilde smiled. Most of the men that she hooked up with lately–even before Aaron—were dressed in suits. Seeing a man in a suit now was like an aphrodisiac, she felt it swell between her legs.

“What are you drinking?” she asked with a twisted smile.

He looked at her quizzically.

“Bourbon.”

She took his glass, and took a sip.

“I’ll have mine neat,” she nodded.

He poured her a glass that mirrored his, and they clinked glasses. He looked her up and down, she could smelled the bourbon on his breath when he talked to her about the conference that he was in Paris for. Mathilde surveyed his hands–no ring but that did not mean anything. Did it really matter to her? She was not trying to make a love match.

His eyes were soft and glazed as he looked at her–she knew that look. His hands on the keys to his room. She got up and her hip almost touched his mouth, she felt him touch her even though she knew he was not that brave.

That was why she was leaving.

“No,” he said, and dropped his keys. 

Mathilde laughed, and stepped her high-heeled foot next to the fallen keys.

“No?” she arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t go.”

“Make me stay.”

He got up, and she saw the darkness of his shadow fall over her like sunset.

 

More Masturbation Monday here:

Fishnets

Cleo wore fishnets that day, and she was startled when she saw Eliza come into her office. First of all, Eliza worked from home now mostly to be with Bibi, and secondly Eliza was also wearing fishnets.

It seemed so odd that she and Eliza had on the same thing. They did not wear it the same, but they were both wearing fishnets and Cleo felt awkward.

She was not sure how to explain it, but Eliza intimidated her. They were friendly, more than friendly if she could go to her apartment and start dating one of her friends. But she sensed that she had crossed a line maybe. Eliza was not any less inviting, but there was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Sometimes she thought about the fact that she saw Eliza and Oscar walk out of a darkened room at Bibi’s birthday party. She put it out of her mind again, as soon the thought returned. No one would sleep with a lover in the middle of their daughter’s birthday party with her husband there!

Or maybe Cleo just did not want to think it could be anything because she wanted Oscar. 

Thinking about Oscar, Cleo remembered why she put on those fishnets. It was because when she was getting dressed that morning—after they had made love almost as soon as he got up—he caressed her legs and told her that he did not think she would ever wear fishnets. He was right—she liked hosiery without patterns. She preferred to wear the patterns on her clothes. But just to let him know that he did not know everything about her, she wore them. Went to the pharmacy, and changed the smooth hosiery she wore when she left him.

“I got the memo last night,” Eliza said to her, and gestured to her legs. Cleo was delayed on catching the joke.

Later, Oscar tore her fishnets right off of her. His finger pushed through the grid of the tights and he slipped his finger inside her. Cleo was wet, there was nothing about that for her to hide. He fucked her so fast with his finger, she almost passed out when she came.

“I like you in fishnets,” he said, as she heaved breathlessly.

 

More Wicked Wednesday here:

 

Ghosting

Mathilde hated it, but she was still with Aaron and she did not want him to go if she was honest at the moment. If at least for sex—she still wanted to have sex with him.
She still wanted to have sex period.
Just because she had left everything did not mean that she was not still a human, that she did not still have human urges. In bed with Aaron at his hotel room, where he still was because he had blown off his flight that morning she wanted him inside of her and she wanted him to be rough with her. He was not necessarily rough, but he was very specific about what he wanted from her and she gave it to him.
She just wondered when she would ghost him.
She was ghosting before it was a thing in Urban Dictionary—she just left when she was ready, and became someone else.
But she was not ready to do that yet, sitting cross-legged on Aaron’s bed where he surprised her and instead of takeout or room service he cooked. Mathilde was not opposed to cooking when she had time, she would not have had time if there was room service to be ordered for sure!
He placed a disposable plate in front of her, and served her crispy orange chicken that was better than anything she had ordered from a Chinese restaurant, so good and filled with vegetables that she did not need rice.
She ate with chopsticks that he had in his suitcase.
“You keep chopsticks in your suitcase?” she asked him.
Aaron looked at her, his eyes sliding down her body.
“I travel a lot, so I cook a lot in hotels and need condiments and utensils for when I do so I keep them
in my suitcase.”
Mathilde got up and opened his suitcase. There was takeout residue at the bottom, like she might have found on the kitchen counter of her own apartment when she was not a hotel nomad.
As she was bent over the suitcase, Aaron curled over her and she felt her underpants shift against him before he forthright pulled them down her. He made it such a domestic scene between them, cooking for her in and out of bed. Her legs straddled his as he moved in and out of her in the bed, both of them looking far from sexy in regular underwear in the mirror but their faces revealed their deep pleasure.

More Masturbation Monday here:

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:

 

 

 

New Rules

There was a remix of Dua Lipa’s “New Rules” playing, and Mathilda heard the lyrics in her head over and over, 

“Don’t let him in, don’t be his friend.”

When Harry walked over to her she looked at him coolly as if she had nothing to hide—because she did not. She was not the woman he had known—that woman had been gone for quite some time now.

“I know this is a cliché, and you are going to think it is a line but you look a lot like someone I used to know?” he smiled, that smile.

“And in a strip club, would this lady you knew be in a strip club?” Mathilda picked up her drink without looking away from him.

Harry looked intimidated and very unsure. She saw his face fall.

“I just—you really looked like this woman I was in love with.”

“I hear that a lot.”

“I am sure a lot of men have been in love with you.”

“Love is manufactured—it is not a real thing.” Mathilda continued to stare at him. “Something else you want to say to me? Cause I really just wanted to sit here in peace. Alone.”

“Harry?” A tall man walked up behind Harry, and put his hand on his shoulder. “Are you bothering this lady?”

Mathilda grinned because she had met a lot of Harry’s associates but she had never met this man. He was tall and handsome, and he clearly had come over there to make sure that she saw him.

And she did.

He sat down which Harry had not been brave enough to do, but he sat down reluctantly after his associate did. Which made Mathilda smile all the more, but she was not interested in Harry. She did want to respond to the covert advances that his associate was making.

“Well, I am sorry gentleman but I do have to go to the water closet,” she stated with a faux British accent flourish on the end and looked at Harry’s associate for a bit longer than she needed to before she got up and walked away.

Of course he understood he was meant to follow her, and she did not see him at first but he appeared out of the shadows. Mathilda feigned surprise melodramatically, and they both started laughing.

“Harry,” he started. “was never a good closer.”

He pressed her to the wall, and Mathilda looked up at him before he lifted her chin even more with his fingers. Her body melted against his, because she was suddenly just that hot. He just looked at her, and she saw his dark eyes she was going to have to bring out a new set of rules.

 

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