Category Archives: meme

Filled

Charlotte could still feel herself on her fingers—a mixture of her own come and her cooling saliva from when she sucked it off of them. She kept glancing at her phone to see what Harry was going to say in response to her text. Was he going to say anything? It was taking long enough!

“Ms. Russell? There is a meeting in the west conference room.”

Charlotte really had forgotten she was at work. Putting herself together, she smoothed her hair and opened her door to address her assistant’s instant message.

“Carmen? Was there a meeting on my schedule?” she asked.

Carmen shook her head.

“No, it was added by Mr. Meyer’s assistant. I am not even able to look at the details, but it says mandatory,” Carmen added, with furrowed brows.

“Thank you.”

Running back into her office to grab her tablet, Charlotte headed to the west conference room which was barely used. She had been working on a project with Kenneth, but it was awhile before they had to really think about it. It was a long, dark walk to the room, after a point all she could hear was the echo of her heels walking down the hall.

That was until she was grabbed, just as she was going to turn the knob to enter the conference room.

“Spread your legs, you want to show me your wet pussy? Spread your legs.”

It took Charlotte a moment to gather herself, and realize she was in the stairwell with Harry. But it did not take her long to pull her damp thong aside, and to get on the cool floor below her and spread her legs. She used her tablet’s glare to starkly illuminate her wet pussy.

“Can you see?” she taunted him, and moved her fingers in and out of herself.

“Take your fingers out of there because we both know that is not what you want,” he growled.

Limply removing her fingers from inside her, Charlotte looked up at Harry.

“No,” she said quietly, and placed her fingers in her mouth.”

“Take your fingers out of your mouth, because you know that you do not want them there either.”

No,” she repeated dully.

The sound of him unzipping made her pussy clench. Instead of her two fingers, his dick in her mouth was a better option… When she put her hands on his thighs as she sucked him, he pushed them away.

“No hands,” he commanded, as he moved against her mouth.

Charlotte complied, waiting for him to fill her somewhere else. Harry turned her over and on all fours, she did not need her hands…

More Masturbation Monday here:

lips via wikipedia

Primitive

Eliza felt like her own doppelgänger. In the mirror she saw herself sitting beside Oscar, but her hand was in Rafe’s as he kissed it. In the mirror was who she would have been if she was with Oscar, but her hand was in her husband’s as it should be.

Rafe nodded at Oscar.

“I thought you might need me,” Rafe said, taking off his jacket. He picked up the container with noodles and started to prepare a plate for himself, when Eliza softly took it from his hands and made him a plate. She could see that she had pleased him, like in the Sharon Olds’ poem.

He was primitive with her later in bed, and she knew it was a combination of their desire and him wanting to be possessive. She was his, she always would be. How many times had she tried to leave him, only to end up married to him?

She remembered who she was the night that she met Oscar. She was an overwhelmed fiancee—not to say that what she had had with Oscar had not been real.It had been.

But being overwhelmed as a bride did not mean she did not love Rafe anymore. Together or apart, they always had a connection like water turned to blood. She could not imagine life without him—she did not want to imagine life without him. Feeling the heat of his gaze on her, she looked at him in the dark. He did not say anything—he did not have to. The woman on this side of the mirror was his, and there was nothing that needed to be said to solidify that anymore.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Noodles

Eliza got up from the bed slowly, and wrapped the sheets about her because she realized that she had not thrown them off of her. She assumed that Victoria was gone, and that this was Oscar at the door.

It was mid-afternoon, but he was there because she told him what was going on. He did not bring Sally, and she was thankful

for that when he held her in his arms and put down the takeout that he had gotten for her.

“Thank you,” she said softly into his shirt.

Oscar had not really seen her since the accident, and now her recovery.

They sat and ate Shanghainese noodles together, quietly like the couple in Sharon Old’s poem, “Primitive” although their circumstances were very different now.

Eliza felt so comfortable with Oscar, she loved being with him because he accepted all of her. If she had met him before Rafe, she might not be Mrs. Hughes today but she still loved him as a friend.

“Do you want to talk, or do you just want to eat?”

Eliza looked up at him.

“My life is nothing like what I imagined it would be Oscar you know? Even with you, nothing like I imagined we would be…

He smiled at her, and tapped her hand with his chopsticks.

“Me either.”

“But I am glad we are friends.”

“Me too.”

Eliza continued to eat her Shanghainese noodles. She needed something to fill her because she felt so empty inside. Looking at Oscar, she wondered why he had wanted to see her as well. But she knew he would tell her in his own time. She also knew her being there for him was enough, and maybe he did not want to talk.

This gave her a purpose for this afternoon if nothing else until Rafe came home. Both of them startled when they heard the key in the door, and Rafe walked in with a smile that dimmed.

You can read previous and future installations of this story as part of my Wicked Wednesday.

man eating noodles by vermeer via wikipedia

Vapors

Charlotte pressed her hand to her head, Harry was lying beside her and his scent…she was like a bloodhound. She would chase him down like a bitch in heat.

Because she was.

She saw the shell he was after Sabrina left the night before, but he clung to her in the midst of it all. Charlotte did not mind being his second because she wanted him so much it hurt, it literally hurt. When she was away from him she often cried–she ached for him so much it brought tears to her eyes.

When he left her the first time before he came back to her now, she was stronger but this time he could not leave her. She could not allow him to leave her again, because she did not know if she would be able to put herself back together again. On the outside she knew she looked so pulled together, but it was all smoke and mirrors.

She was a vapor, but it was his scent aphrodisiacal in its natural form that slipped through the air and into her. Biting her lip, she ran her hand along his skin, its warmth like fire she was not afraid to play with. He stirred slightly, but she did not want to wake him up. She loved the moments before he was awake when she could study him…for the moments when she was not with him so she could remember a random blemish or hair to savor.

That night before Sabrina came, they had been having a particularly randy evening. When they left the bar where they had been the entire evening drinking like they were fucking, he pulled her to the cement staircase they had climbed up and pushed her to the graffiti smeared wall letting her lipstick smear across his mouth and throat. She had just applied another coat mindlessly—like she did not know. Like she was not trying to mark him as hers.

It was dark and Charlotte’s leg lifted like she was a dancer in the dark. She saw their shadows large as they fucked, and she clung to him because she was in a precarious position and because she wanted him so much.

She did not want to let go of him, she was not sure he was good for her mental health…but she could not let go.

More Wicked Wednesday here, and more Friday Flash here. If you want to read more about Charlotte you can find her as part of my Masturbation Monday series here.

Up Close and Personal

Jeanne started to miss Terrence more and more. Her love for him was solid, but he was away a lot. She did not mind if he was away as long as they communicated with each other frequently. Not all of the time she knew he had a job to do, and did not have time to play with her as much as she might want him to…but she loved the time he could afford her to say hey babe.

She loved when he Face Timed her, or when he sexted her saucily in the middle of the day.

Sometimes if she was working at home on an article she would send him a sexy pic, something to get him going but nothing as good as the real thing—she saved that for when he was with her. But when he was away more and more, she started to be more randy with her teasing.

The curated porn that she watched on Ogler really got to her, because it was exactly what she wanted from Terrence. At night was the hardest because she would really miss him in bed with her, and wanted him so much she could feel his body even if he was not physically with her.

He missed her the same way. They fell asleep Skyping, and she woke up and saw him asleep on the screen. It was such a closeup of him that she saw pores she had not memorized, and when he woke up he saw her. Seeing their faces so close was like porn, until they decided to push the limits of even that. She pushed the strap of her camisole down and he wanted to see more. Even though he was on a screen she felt so vulnerable because she had his full regard. He looked at her hungrily, like he had never seen what she was revealing to him. She wanted to see more of him too.

“I want to see your legs,” she said, and it felt brazen because they had been looking at each other so close up from only the chest up. But he sat up, and drew his legs close to his chest.

Her hand which was already between her legs, clutched herself even more. She did not play with herself, but seeing his legs was so intense visually that she clutched herself where she throbbed.

She was so hungry for him.

More Masturbation Monday here, More Fleur Friday here and more Friday Flash here.

retro photo via wikipedia

Tantrum

Eliza wanted to stamp her feet like she was having a temper tantrum, and she had never even done that when she was a child.

But what Victoria had told her about her mother and father made her irrationally angry. She was filled with rage, and she had nowhere to place it. She had not said a thing to Victoria about what she felt because she was too shellshocked to.

And she could not say anything to her mother because what was she going to say? She did not want to know what she knew about her mother and father, but she knew and the past was the past.

But she had hid so much of herself from her mother and Rafe’s family for what?! What happened between two people was private, but when children were involved…Jeanne, now a stillborn sister. It was too much.

She wrapped her arms about herself and paced the apartment. Would she tell Jeanne? Would she tell Rafe?

Right then, she looked at her desktop. Oscar’s name was on the screen, she knew he was in China. Memories of Shanghai came back to her. He was there with Sally…Eliza had particular feelings about Sally, but it was not her business to tell her friend what she felt about the woman he loved.

She currently had her own issues that she did not know how to deal with.

Still enraged, she curled up in a ball on her mattress.

“Eliza?”

She heard Victoria’s voice through the door, and she bawled like a baby but it was not a tantrum.

More Wicked Wednesday here.

tantrum via wicked wednesday

Mentor

After leaving therapy, Eliza went to a very elaborate restaurant as was Victoria’s style. Victoria was a long-time friend of her parents, and a mentor to her when she was starting out in her career. It was Victoria who told her to always go for the highest goal and then higher.

But when she arrived there, Eliza was saw vulnerability about this very influential woman in her life.

“Is everything okay?” Eliza asked after she settled down, as she sipped her wine.

“Everything is fine,” Victoria said, but disbelief filled Eliza.

Eliza nodded anyway. They began talking, and things seemed okay until Eliza mentioned Jeanne. Victoria looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.

“Please tell me what is the matter Victoria.”

Taking a deep breath and putting her hands on her chest as a single tear fell down her face, Victoria sighed.

“This is hard for me to tell you Eliza. I have always thought of you like my own daughter.”

“Well if I did not have my mother, you would have been like a mother to me.”

Victoria reached over, and put her hand on top of Eliza’s.

“I love you, as if you were my own daughter…” Victoria closed her eyes, and the dam of tears in her eyes collapsed, and fell upon her cheeks. “I lost my own daughter, I was pregnant but I could not carry my little girl to term. I only had you left then, so I gave you everything I would have given her even though you were not my blood. But you are everything I imagined my own daughter would have been, and when you tell me about your life I feel so happy. I am glad you have a sister now you love…”

“I do love Jeanne,” Eliza admitted.

“This is hard as I said Eliza, but the daughter I lost was your sister as well.”

Eliza’s eyes widened.

“Your father and mother, and me and my husband at the time…we swapped. You father did not have an “affair,” we all knew. I loved your father, more than my own husband and my husband knew it—why he could not stay. I got pregnant and assured everyone it was my husband’s but it was not.” Victoria took both of Eliza’s hands in hers. “You could have had another sister.”

A smile broke out on Victoria’s face finally filled with tears as it was, but Eliza’s expression was frozen.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

charity via wikipedia

Opera Seria

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:

image via wikipedia

Bitten

Take a bite out of Best Women’s Erotica edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel for yourself!

More Sinful Sunday here:

Flood

It was not like an episode of a television show where the characters faced some harrowing situation that was magically resolved the following week…

This was real life.

The incident with Ingrid was so jarring, it made Eliza realize she was stronger than she thought she was. She had saved her own life. The PTSD and pills were not what defined her, she wanted to manage them And she knew she could not do it alone.

She could not do it alone.

Another night of sleep deprivation, Eliza sat on the edge of the bed bathed in moonlight. The direct moon was like the sun too bright, until Rafe’s shadow eclipsed it.

“Liza?” he said, and the warmth of his body was soothing like the sun but she still felt so cold inside. How many nights had she woken up, him right behind her—inviting—and not been able to say a word? Not been able to articulate what she felt inside? She had told him about Adrien and their missed accident, he knew about the accident they had when she told him about Oscar and no one had been with her for the last accident. She had been alone and broken like the Frida Kahlo painting that Kahlo took of her own accident and how she felt. They had repaired Eliza, but she still felt patched up mentally and physically.

Rafe wrapped his arms about her, and she pressed her back to him seeking his warmth for the cold that she felt inside of her.

She had told him that she was afraid all of the time, anxious all of the time. All the emotions that she felt aside from these feelings that began with the letter A, were two that began with the letter L. Love and lust for her husband, and fraternal love for her sister Jeanne.

But even love could not save her completely. She wanted to not be broken anymore. In the flood of moonlight in the arms of her love, she searched for warmth and he gave it to her. The way he held her like a silent language as he reached to hold her hand.

More Wicked Wednesday here, more Sex Bloggers for Mental Health here. My #SB4MH story is fictional, but please take a look at the non-fictional posts there as well.