Category Archives: meme

Friday Flash No. 22 — Beauty Queen

Her face almost hurt from the forced smiling and the makeup. The first round of the pageant was over, and Blythe was not ready to walk into the room to undress with the other girls.
Her head was not in the game, her head hurt from the stiffness of her hairdo. She stood in the stairwell, and leaned against the wall. The coolness of the wall made her shiver when she leaned against it.
Playing with her phone aimlessly, Blythe decided to take a selfie. The app that she used let her make the picture blue, and that was exactly what she felt.
Blue.
Her lips throbbed, when she realized that she had been pursing them as hard as she had been pursing them. She ran her fingers over her lips, and thought of him as soon as she touched them.
Her lips against his lips, her lips around his…
It was a muscle memory she thought, as she tasted the salty tears on her lips.

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Fleur Friday No. 13

Jeanne opened her apartment door to let Terrence in. She was so comfortable around him at this point, that she did not make much of an effort to really get dressed into anything nice. She did not put on any makeup, or do anything with her hair.
She looked a figurative mess, and she told him that he did not have to make her breakfast, but he insisted. She managed to get him a job at one of her freelance gigs, and he had been there as an executive and was happy. He got her lunch a lot when she was there, even though her role there was very different from his.
Their lifestyles were different.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I told you did not have to.”
“I wanted to,” he said, right behind her when she turned around. “You said not to take you out to lunch anymore. I know how to cook.”
Jeanne felt very vulnerable all of a sudden. He was so close to her, and his scent of warmth filled her nose. He moved imperceptibly closer, as he reached behind her to pick up her frying pan. She moved to help him, but he pushed her hands away. So she stood back to watch him in a t-shirt and jeans make scramble eggs with whatever she had in her fridge. He plated it for her like a chef.
It was delicious, and they ate together on her balcony. Jeanne feared she seemed like a pig, but Terrence dabbed at the corner of her mouth with his finger which she licked instinctively.
Their eyes locked.
He dipped his finger into her mouth, and she sucked it in as she closed her eyes. Slowly he slipped his finger out, and kissed her on the mouth. Jeanne swooned a bit, and he pulled her close to him after she knocked over a flower pot on the ground. She opened her eyes, and his fingers were inside her shorts caressing the curve of her ass.
She sucked on his bottom lip, Kir Royale flavored.
The cassis was sweeter there.

More Fleur Friday here, and read about Jeanne’s sister Eliza here.

Kir Royale via wikipedia

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Wicked Wednesday #327 — Lifestyle/Friday Flash No. 21 — La Vie Est Belle

Eliza was lying on the lounge chair on the roof. Rafe had taken her for the weekend to a very extravagant hotel, where only they had access to this part of the roof. She was naked, covered in sunscreen and catching all of the rays she could. He idly rubbed her backside and more than sexual, it was terribly calming.
His finger slipped between her cheeks, and he caressed her puckered hole there.
That was when it became more sexual, and she turned onto her back to look up at him. He could not keep his hands off of her, and started to play with her breasts.
Since the last car accident, she was still in rehab and still needed some pain medicine to relieve her of some more than dull aches at night.
And to relieve her of other things too…
She looked as much as she could at the sun, which was bright. Turning on her side, she picked up a wine glass that said La vie est belle—which was the name of this paradise that Rafe had taken her to.
Ingrid had suggested it, since she was on an away conference in Brussels. She knew that Eliza and Rafe had not had extended time together recently.
“I know what Rafe and I have, but I also know what you and he had. I don’t want him to feel torn. We both love him,” Ingrid told her over cocktails.
Eliza shivered when she thought that to herself. She did love Rafe, she loved him more than she was almost able to bear.
This was her new lifestyle, being Rafe’s second.
Wasn’t she always in a way?
But know she knew she was not the only lady in his life, and she was free to be with him or not.
She wanted to be free, she thought as she arched into him fully cupping her breasts and kissing her neck. He kissed her neck up to her mouth, and she felt molten between her legs. She not losing this part. He knew her body better than anyone. He noticed aberrations with it even before she did, and he loved like it was an art.
He let his robe fall apart. His body devastating in the sun, as he covered her.
“What do you want Liza?” he asked against her throat.
She laughed, as the sensation of his voice and breath tickled her collarbone.
She wanted the world.

More Wicked Wednesday here, more Friday Flash here. Did you read my last Masturbation Monday? It was my riskiest ever sex scene on this blog! Friday is Fleur Friday, read them all here.

lifestyle via wicked wednesday

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Masturbation Monday No. 209/ KOTW Sept 1-15 with imagery by Kisungura

This is one of the riskiest sex scenes I have written on this blog. In case you forgot who Graham is, here is a reminder–this was originally Masturbation Monday No. 57. There is a gun in this scene, and there is never any risk of harm to Nichy–but I thought I should mention it…

Graham moved the gun from within her harness slowly, licking his lips. A smile curled the corner of his mouth like a piece of burning paper curls up on the edge. Nichy barely breathed, as she looked him straight in the eye. She was not going to show a bit of fear with him because he would like it, but he would not believe it.
He knew her.
He dragged the cold steel between her breasts, along her ribs, around her navel and between her legs. He paused there, looking into her eyes harder.
“You are fucking wet, fucking wet Nusch…” he whispered quietly to himself as if she was not there, as if he could not believe it.
Nichy wanted to close her eyes, but she could not. As much as she had run from Graham, having him there now was too much to deal with. 
She remembered when she first met him. He was the ultimate bad boy, not a pretend one like the ones that she had dated in high school and college, with slicked back hair or wearing leather. He literally was involved in things that she did not know about. He looked at her, and she was done. All she could think about was relieving the itch that she felt. She wanted to caress her clit when she saw him, she was that uncomfortable with desire.
He looked at her with the same intense gaze that he looked at her with now, while caressing her clit with his gun.
His look had been intense when they met as well, they were drawn to each other like she had never been drawn to anyone. She did not hear the music or conversation in the room, she literally floated to him. He was a gentleman, even though she knew he was a rogue deep inside of her. He pulled out her chair, and kissed her hand—acted like he was afraid to touch her.
They did not make love right away, he made her feel like she was going to go crazy before he would even kiss her. Then he did kiss her, his hands on her hips and his lips hungry. Nichy, well she was Nusch then, felt every bit of his desire in his soft kiss. Graham had never had to demand anything from her, she gave him everything that she could. He kneaded her body like dough in the beginning, without any concern to her clit which jerked with need for him. She was so wet, that she felt it coat her anus.
Her anus was wet now as she rode the shaft of the gun. Graham pulled it from her, with Nichy was dizzy with desire. She saw the shaft of the gun was wet with her come, and looked at Graham with a mixture of hatred and desire.
He held the gun at her belly button, she heard it click before he put it down and looked at her. She was still as he loosened the rope about her. Nichy loved how she looked in the harness, loved that he had done it to her again.
All this time, she had been running from him, but after he untied her she swooned. Not from the tingling of her arms from having been up over her head either. She ran from Graham because she knew that she was never going to be able to stay away from him, and he was no good for her. There was nothing good that came from being with him. Her hips still moved as if she were riding the gun.
Graham slapped her breasts, and pinched her nipple so hard she cried out.
“You think I am going to give you what you want so easily? You slut, what were you about to do with that guy?”
“Gavin!” she shrieked.
“Gavin,” he copied her shriek. “My driver will drive him around until he comes to. But you were going to fuck him, weren’t you?”
 Graham stepped back from her, caressing the bulge in his pants. Nichy felt soothed because at least he was hard for her, and maybe he would give her what she wanted.
What she always wanted.
“You like that don’t you, Nusch?” he asked her.
Nichy realized that she was drooling, and she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She wanted Graham so bad, she was not sure what she was going to do…
…if he did not give her what she wanted.
He undid his belt, and unzipped his pants. Nichy licked her dry lips as he offered himself to her, without stepping closer.
“Crawl,” he drawled, and she did. Eyeing his shiny shoes, she heard his belt as he slipped it off but was not prepared for the sting on her back. Nichy arched, and he filled her mouth with every inch of him.
She wanted to be force fed. She wanted it so bad, she drooled and her eyes filled with tears as he shoved it into her mouth. “Sit back on your heels.”
Nichy did as Graham told her.
He left her there.
With her desire, she had forgotten how vindictive he was. He would punish her for running away for this long…

More Masturbation Monday here. more Kink of the Week here:

cropped image via kisungura

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(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.

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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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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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