Category Archives: meme

Fleur Friday No. 1 — Release

Jeanne placed the newspaper next to her in the backseat of the town-car. The driver had left newspapers and magazines in the back, so passengers could read them while he was driving them to their destination. Newspapers reminded her of herself, or her sister since one or the other was in them all the time…and that was not what right now was about.

She wanted a full release right now, she was so wound up and there was only one thing that would unwind her…

When she walked into Mal’s apartment, she wrapped her arms about him. He kissed her, and she did not even care that he was going to leave lipstick all over her.

It turned her on to see his lipstick on her collar—cloth or bone.

When she looked at him, between her legs watered. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, that displayed his body. And then his face was made up, his makeup perfect, although she loved him with less. Like anyone who wore makeup, they usually looked even more beautiful with less. His long hair was slicked back, a bun knotted at the nape of his neck.

In bed, his hair was all over the place, he smelled floral, and his lips tasted like fruit. His androgyny was breathtaking. She tugged at his hair while he was inside her and bit his lips. He bit hers, and she cried out as he gave her the release she so desperately sought.

In the morning, the pale sunlight on Mal’s naked face and his hair spread out made Jeanne feel wild.

He pulled her close, and she kissed him. They kissed for a long time, until she felt she would sink into him.

She first met Mal at an art gallery—several to be exact when she was on the art beat. Where she was near her sister a lot, without talking to her.

But Mal.

Mal was at so many openings, and she saw him in expensive suits but it was him in a t shirt and jeans, with a ponytail that floored her. He seemed more approachable, and he left lipstick on her collar as soon as they met. Kissing her like they were in France, and holding her as close to him as was acceptable to talk about a painting with her.

She was naked with him within the hour, and it was always like that every time after.

He always gave her a sweet release…

Jeanne is my new character, for this new series. She is connected to Eliza and Sabrina, but her story is a standalone—take a look at their stories while you wait for more Jeanne!

Jeanne’s story will always use the prompt from Wicked Wednesday…

red lips via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #316 — Release

Eliza loved to see Terrence, but as much as she tried, she could not release certain thoughts about him from her mind. In the beginning, she had not even liked him because he was arrogant and remote with her. Then it was a passionate affair between them, and then there was Lila.

There were things that blemished their rapport.

Tonight was another blemish.

They had both been drinking, neither of them was sloppy drunk, but they had definitely been drinking. He held her hand, and would not release it.

“I need you to be with me more, you disappeared Eliza. And even when I do not see you, I see you. In the newspaper, pictures, mentions of you in the business section. I need more of you. I feel like I had more too…”

He would not release her hand, and it felt like an iron grip even though he was not holding her tightly. She did not know what to say to him, it was uncomfortable for him to say he needed more of her. He knew that she was polyamorous when he met her. She never kept that a secret, because she knew how she had felt when Rafe kept that a secret from her.

“I have never lied yo you, or withheld my time from you Terrence.” she replied stoically, looking in his eyes with a blank—it felt blank to her—expression.

“I never said you lied,” Terrence shook his head. “I am just saying I want more of you. I’ve missed you.”

“Why lament about things past, when I am right here?” she looked at him.

He still would not release her hand.

His phone vibrated, and even without looking she looked and saw Lila’s name pop up on the screen. Terrence was still holding her hand, and not looking at his phone. She was facing the phone, and looked at the picture of Lila. Her eyes bright and soft on the screen, in a way that she had never seen Lila.

A way she assumed, Lila was just for Terrence.

He still would not let go of her hand, and even though it was hours later, and she was home in bed, she could still feel his grip and see Lila’s miniature soft smile on his phone…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

release via wicked wednesday

Masturbation Monday No. 198 — Sleeping Beauty

Her dream started that she came out of her Cindrellaesque carriage, but she was dressed like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—and she was wearing shattered glass slippers and could see the blood on her feet in the cracks.

But it did not hurt at all.

She walked to the ballroom? Or at least a huge dome-shaped room with gorgeous glass chandeliers that were not shattered. She could not see her reflection, but she assumed that she looked hideous.

She was not wrong.

The crowd circled around her in their fancy ballroom gowns, and upturned noses. They circled around her, and pulled at her clothes. Blood appeared on other parts of her body, as she was scratched and pulled at. Sabrina did not even have a defense, half naked in her still shattered glass slippers she stood.

Until she was covered in a thick cloak that made her feel as if she was set on fire.

The panic of it all made her pass out, and she did not come to for what seemed like hours.

As if she were sleeping beauty.

When she woke up, the dark man she had glimpsed briefly before she passed out, gazed at her with with a sweet expression.

“You are awake,” he said simply, and continued to caress her back.

On her side she heard the crackle of the glass slippers and she wondered how he could be so warm, when she knew she must be leaving blood on his sheets?

But the sheets were black, so maybe it did not matter?

The dark man covered her like his dark sheets, and Sabrina cried out. Not in refusal, she cried out in welcome.

She had been unconscious, but she knew him and the way his body fit with hers showed he knew her. She welcomed him, her legs wrapped about him and neither of them cared about the shattered glass or blood as she dug her heels into his back.

Breathless from his deep kiss, she almost passed out again.

But she managed not to, as he kissed down her body. His lips like lava, and she felt like she was going to spontaneously combust.

Practically on fire, she rolled onto her side and looked at Harry.

Awake now, she knew that if they had a fairy tale it would have to be twisted like her dream had been.

She kissed his body. Her lips like lava now, moving along him until she heard his moan deep in his chest and she covered his body like he had in her dream.

When he was her nocturnal prince…

More Masturbation Monday here:

sleeping beauty via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #315 — Trademark

Terrence could not help the following morning, but pick up the newspaper that had a paparazzi shot of Eliza. Being engaged to Rafe meant that she was going to be in the public eye because of his family, and his position as an international businessman. There were tons of pictures of him and her in the media, but this one was her alone holding a coffee cup.

“Eliza Morton caught being a pedestrian, holding a coffee cup and with her trademark elegance flashing us with her gorgeous engagement ring from her fiancé.” Terrence read.

“Put that down please?” she said, picking up yet again a cup of coffee across from him. Again with trademark elegance or not, her ring caught in the light and showed itself off. She and Terrence started at her ring—well Eliza thought he was staring at her ring.

“Even when you do not move, you have a trademark elegance. I remember coming to work with you and especially going to Paris with you…”

Eliza felt her cheeks heat because that Paris trip was the beginning of them as they were now, but that was not what Terrence was referring to.

“You looked so elegant, and effortless elegance is a trademark for French women. You did not stand out in the least. I could not keep my eyes off of you, and eventually…” When he paused and looked up at her, there was no mistaking his meaning. “I could not keep my hands off of you.”

He took her hand at that moment, and the heat from her face raced down her body to her fingertips. The simple touch of his hand set her aflame. She looked at him speechless, his breath was heavy and their moment was so clear.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

trademark via wicked wednesday

Masturbation Monday No. 197 — Cinderella

Was it all about the fantasy? Was nothing real for her?

Sabrina waited at her and Harry’s favorite neighborhood bar. She had spent most of the day lost in fantasies about Drew, and how fire-filled it had been between them.

She remembered arching in the bed when he went down on her, because his tongue literally felt like fire on and around her clit. It felt like fire probing every crevice of her, and warmed her come between her legs, so that it almost felt like candle wax between her thighs.

But then her memories sobered, and she remembered she was waiting for Harry. That she had left her life that included Drew, and now she was with Harry, and he had been becoming everything until that scared her so much that she ran from him in dreams and reality.

Because she wanted the fantasy to last maybe? She was like Cinderella maybe, but she left way before the chance of the carriage turning back into a pumpkin and her glass slipper shattered.

Harry walked in, and wrapped his arm about her immediately. He kissed her, and she felt the type of fire between her legs that she had been fantasizing about.

“What are you thinking about” Harry asked her, looking in her eyes.

She felt the fantasy splash in her eyes, as she looked at him.

“Nothing special,” She replied, and wrapped her arms about him.

The heat of him was compelling, and she pressed herself as much to him as she possibly could. He wrapped his arm about her, and they did not even have to disentangle to order because the bartender knew them, and what they wanted.

Two glasses of Montepulciano.

Sabrina wanted to live for the fantasy, maybe this was the fantasy. Her and Harry, and the not so quiet fire between her legs…

More Masturbation Monday here:

cinderella fleeing the ball via wikipedia

Wicked Wednesday #314 — Black

“I miss you…”

The sound of Terrence’s voice was jarring. Eliza had not seen him in a very long time, but the second that she heard his voice she missed him too.

Her heart was infinitely big, she felt like she had more chambers than other people’s hearts in hers. She felt inside the way her heart had expanded for Adrien, and now Terrence’s chamber encroached upon his.

“I miss you…”

“I want to see you…”

Eliza wanted to see him too. She found herself within an hour sitting at her favorite bar, seeing her reflection dressed all in black staring back at her. She looked like a Victorian widow—all in black, and barely any of her skin revealed.

Terrence looked at her like she was naked, and had was naked soon enough. Terrence pulled her legs over his, and on her ass on the edge of the plush bar stool she scooted closer to him. Her ass was up in the air in his apartment later, Terrence did whatever he wanted with it.

That was what she wanted.

“Where have you been?” he questioned, pulling her close to him.

Where had she been?

She picked up her black dress, and walked into in bathroom. He followed her in, and pressed her to the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. She looked up at him with a smile, and he rubbed her nose with his. She put her arms about his neck.

“There’s something different about you…” he said.

Eliza looked at him.

“You think so?”

He nodded.

“Something in your eyes…”

It was probably the accident…but she was not sure she wanted to tell him about it. It was like something she and Adrien shared alone…and she did not want to share it with anyone else. It was their night terror.

Their blackness…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

black via wicked wednesday

Masturbation Monday No. 196 — Unplugged

It was a bizarre twist, and it made Sabrina resent Carole even more for her confession of love. It was not that they were not going to be friends anymore, the two of them had been through far too much for that. But it was that she hated that Carole romanticized the dynamic between them. Sure you could suggest that their having been intimate could have changed their dynamic, but it had not for Sabrina and honestly that was not why Carole had fallen in love with her in the long run.

But it was Carole’s confession that she had started to fall for her when she went to London, and they had met Drew.

Drew.

Sabrina did not think much about her past lives for her own sanity. But one memory of Drew spurred so many more it was unbearable. Meeting him in Camden, him making the trips between them from New York to London feel like a trip from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Because they both wanted each other so much, and that was why she had begun to spend so much time with Carole in London. Why she had made out with Carole on a plane to entice Drew.

Carole was always an instrument, she saw now in hindsight.

But Drew, Drew himself had been like an uncontrollable fire. She wanted him all of the time, and as evidence that she did not actively practice monogamy–not in a traditional sense–she had him. But Drew was like setting fire to anything she was in at the time. She would have walked over the Atlantic Ocean to see him. For his death grip between her legs that made her burn all over…

Her tears felt like lava on her cheeks when she thought of the glass case he had with beautiful glass toys…the ways he played with her with those beautiful toys.

Sabrina moved her finger in and out of her anus, thinking about the lovely plug Drew had inserted in her…in and out, out and in until she cried out from the pleasure. Her tears became a hotter lava on her face, as she came from the sensation and the memory…

More Masturbation Monday here:

This week the photo that accompanies my post is by photographer supreme, and my friend Exposing 40!!!

Wicked Wednesday #313 — 2517 (Flashback)

I am still on hiatus, but I always do Wicked!!! Here is a flashback to 2517…read on, and you will understand!

Landing in New York felt like landing in another world, or in another year. Like 2517, or something really faraway.

Eliza walked with her luggage, with Terrence at her side. Her dark shades hid her teary eyes. She tried to hide all of her emotions because if Terrence saw her crying, he would want to know what was wrong and she could not tell him what was wrong.

It was wrong that Paris had again contained their love, tender and brutal–sometimes at the same time. The way he had looked at her when they were getting dressed. He was tightening his belt, and she held a bottle of Severine’s perfume absently between her breasts. Their eyes rested on each other’s bodies and eyes, with ease and comfort.

That was them, that was how they were. He smiled at her, buckled his belt and pulled their suitcase from under the bed.

“Come here,” he said softly, and she walked over to him. “Sit on this, so I can close it.

Eliza sat on the case, her legs crossed and Severine’s perfume caressed their noses.

It smelled like sweet sex, primal but sweet.

Terrence moved around her, never even touching her. That was not what that was about.

Like now, walking side by side in the airport.  They were close together, but it was not about making love.

Still she was lachrymose, because she could not forget looking in his eyes. The way he looked at her, his scent warm and soft between them. Her floral perfume, not Severine’s primal brew had surrounded them, then packing at the house. But it was still tense between them, still warm and tender and she ached for him.

Now.

A tear slipped just under her shade and she looked away from Terrence, because it made her cry she felt so much for him.

She had loved Terrence for days without distraction, and now she was back to Rafe, and their upcoming wedding…

New York felt surreal to not be able to love Terrence like she had in Paris. Like another world, another year hundreds of years away.

Even while she could feel his heat presently, and she burned…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Masturbation Monday No. 195 – Velvet

I am still on hiatus, but Masturbation Monday is not! Next week, a brand new installation. This week, please revisit Sabrina and Carole in Paris with me!

Paris had been calling Sabrina in her dreams, so she went there. With her friend Carole. She never told Carole about all the changes that she made with her persona. Carole just accepted her as her friend…period…

Since Carole was in Paris, she could not resist going since it had plagued her dreams.

And so her dreams came to life like a statue, and her dreams without Harry was something that she was not ready for.

She and Carole had fooled around a lot, if it was for some guy or whatever. They did it a lot. After Carole picked her up from the airport, they went to the sexy hotel where Carole was staying and attacked the decadent mini bar…it was not a surprise that she and Carole ended up kissing. Neither one of them was really drunk, just buzzed and there was magenta velvet everywhere.

“You taste like velvet,” Carole whispered, as she delicately licked the shell of Sabrina’s ear.

Sabrina remembered Carole licking her somewhere else, and before she could move, Carole had removed both of their plush magenta robes. She kissed Sabrina’s neck, and between her breasts, dipped her tongue in her navel and then kissed between her legs.

It felt so good, Sabrina squirmed and Carole’s tongue followed her wherever she went. Brushing her hair out of her face, Sabrina lifted Carole’s chin up to her.

“I want to taste you,” Sabrina said.

“But I am not done feasting on your pretty pussy yet!”

So that meant one thing.

Sabrina felt herself get even more slippery when she saw the two of them in the mirror doing sixty-nine. She liked to see herself have sex and watching Carole munch on her the way that she did, and watching herself with her eyes lowered in lust licking Carole…the visual was making her come as much as the sensation. As well as the scent of the room, redolent with the scent of their wetness.

“You know,” Carole grinned. “You are fucking me like you are on camera…”

Sabrina smiled, looking like a Cheshire cat.

“Am I? I never know with you!”

“Well no, but there is a man looking at us on the other side of the mirror. A friend of mine, and he told me he could not imagine me with a woman and I told him there is a woman, one woman who gets me hot as fuck. That’s you.”

Sabrina laughed.

“You are mean, let him in! Being on the other side of the mirror?”

“Are you sure?” Carole was wide-eyed.

Sabrina playfully licked Carole like cream.

“Oh yes, let him in…”

More Masturbation Monday here:

Wicked Wednesday #312 — Elegance in Masturbation Fodder (Flashback)

I am on hiatus this week, but I always do Wicked Wednesday! Here is one of my favorites. And for more Wicked Wednesday, click here!

Eliza rubbed the piece of raw marinated steak between her hands. Rubbing the steak was like masturbating. The constant rubbing shook her breasts, her nipples jumped against the silk of her slip, which made her so tight between her legs she would have stopped to touch herself if she had not been touching raw meat.

Everything was masturbation fodder for her these days. Everything made her want to rub herself.

She had recovered from the car accident, but had not recovered her sex life. Cooking made her happy, she did a lot of things now to make to make herself happy.

She was living with Rafe again, and they were devoted to each other as they had been before, but they had not made love. Their mutual dabbling outside their relationship was something they had to consider. Neither of them was happy about what had happened, but they had planned to make a life together and that was not something they planned on breaking.

She felt like she had felt when she was in Shanghai, and her lust for Oscar had driven her barefoot in a cab to his hotel to get to him.

Oscar.

Her thoughts drifted to thoughts of Oscar which made her cry as if she had been chopping onions. She rubbed the steak again, the spices spread over her palms, wrists and inside her fingernails. It was the spices there that touched the tips of her fingers that made her entire body tingle. She quickly washed her hands which were remained redolent of sage, that wafted up her nose when she grabbed her breast and rubbed her nipple with her index finger. Her hand slid down over and under her slip, and she was just about to ease the tightness between her legs…

“What are you doing?”

Eliza dropped her hand to her thigh, turning back to Rafe sheepishly.

When she turned away from him, she felt him move behind her. He had not been that close to her in such a long time, his finger on her was like striking a match against its box.

His hand was on her breast, but it did not smell of sage. He smelled of sandalwood and bergamot. She leaned against him, unsure if it was of her own volition or simply for the depth of her lust. Her hand was on the top of her thigh, his hand covered hers.

“I missed you…”

He put his hand about her neck, and she gasped even though he was nowhere near choking her. She tilted her head so that he could kiss her neck.

“I missed you,” she admitted shyly as if she felt she was being unfaithful, when she was with the man she was engaged to.

Rafe kissed her neck, cheek, temple and just the very corner of her mouth, his hand still on her breast. Her slip fell down about her ankles, and she did not step out of it but spread her legs as far as it would allow her. She leaned into him even more, she wanted it from behind. There was no intimacy lacking even though they were not facing each other. The sound of his zipper made her so tight, she closed her eyes trying to bare it.

He put his hands on her shoulders after he kissed both of them, and entered her. His style was always animal, he made her feel like he was marking her. This time especially he was, he really was. His thrusts pressed her against the sink and she gripped the steak in response, tenderizing it with her fists.

Then Rafe was tender, kissing every inch of her body. Eliza quivered with the sensation of his lips, wishing she was a writer because she was sure there was a clever metaphor here. Rafe inside her while she fondled a steak.

Steak would now be legitimate masturbation fodder for her…