Please bear with me. I was inspired to write today. It's been a while.
It was the "please don't go" that killed her. She couldn't make him understand. She didn't want to go; she had to go. It was her wife. Her wife was so giving. So understanding. So full of grace. She was her whole world. She couldn't betray her; not even for him.
But he didn't get it. He was hurt. Angry. Rejected. And he didn't know that when he said those words she'd cried for hours.
They'd never met. Still, she longed to be laid out over his lap, his strong hands caressing her bare ass. She ached for the sting of his slap, the deep throb between her thighs, and his stern voice cutting through her chatter. She wanted to watch him stroke himself to completion, pearls of white cum dripping over his dark fingers. She wanted to lick them clean.
"Please don't go."
The words were tattooed on the backs of her eyelids. She saw them each time she blinked.
He said it was one sided. She wasn't giving like he was. It hurt him.
He didn't understand that the only one she'd give more to was her wife. She'd already broken so many rules for him. It was all for him. But she knew it would never be enough. He said he'd take whatever she could give him.
He clearly lied.
Now every time it rained she'd think of they day they didn't spend fucking. Her empty inbox was a dream that she'd never hurt him. That he didn't hate her. That he'd know what it was she wanted.
Him. She wanted him. Bending her over the side of the bed. Tying her to the headboard. Forcing her to her knees. She wanted to taste his lips, his breath, his cock. She ached for him. Needed him. Longed to explore this... thing.
"Please don't go," he said.
Yet, she did. She went home. She laid beside her beautiful wife and cried. She cried all night long.
He'd never understand
Friday, August 15, 2014
Key Phrase: Training
Word Limit: 200
Forbidden Words: Dom, Sub, D/s, pain
Bonus Words: Who’s your daddy?
Extra Credit: What have you been trained to do?
I'm on my knees in the dark, as you requested. You said this was your fantasy. This is how it had to be. I would never question you. Not now.
My back is straight, my hands resting on my thighs. My ass is balanced on my heels. I can't hear you, but I can feel you. Your energy is palpable. My eyes strain, but find nothing.
It's suiting. I once called you my darkness.
I want to speak, to reach out, to find you. I will not. This is what you asked of me. What you've been training me for.
Finally, a fingertip grazes my cheek. Across my lips. I hear a low sound, between a breath and a moan. It undoes something deep inside me. Need rages, hungry and cruel. It will tear me apart.
I'm still waiting.
I hear something. A rustle of fabric. The scrape of your leather belt through your belt loops. I cannot breathe. Again, your fingertips brush my cheek. Across my collarbone. Against my breasts. I bite my lip, fighting to stay silent.
From above come the words I've only read on my screen, the ones that lay me bare.
An odd direction, but it's the first place I went. Exactly 200 words today, no bonus words necessary.
As for what I've been trained to do, at home I've been trained to embrace who I am, to ask for what I need, and to relinquish shame.
By another, I've been trained to surrender, but not to take everything so damn seriously.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
She held her breath when he walked through the door, just as she always did. He usually carried himself with such poise. Such self control. Not today. The moment he looked at her she saw a weariness that she wasn't accustomed to in his dark eyes. He was still stunning, still so damn hot, but off somehow. She didn't think it was anything anyone else would notice. It had become her obsession to study him whenever he came into the bar.
He walked up and ordered his lunchtime whiskey sour. She got him his drink, and laced her usually bright smile with compassion. She wanted him to know she knew he was having a bad day. His usual one drink became two, and then three. Weary became haggard, desolate. She wanted desperately to make it better.
The other patrons filtered out of the bar. They'd be a ghost town until happy hour. This was when she'd usually take her lunch, but she couldn't leave him like that. He'd loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt, rumpling his usually immaculate appearance. She found his sudden humanity even more attractive. She brought him another drink, and he finally looked at her. Her breath caught in her throat. A year and this was the first time he'd really looked at her.
He laid his arms on the bar and narrowed his eyes.
"I just want someone to make me feel," he said. "I don't care what. I just want to feel."
He closed his eyes on a sudden flash of pain. She caught her boss's eye to signal her break, walked around the bar, and grabbed his hand. He half-stumbled after her, confused and hazy as she guided him by the hand down the hall, and out the back door. Within moments, he was pressed to the wall and his slacks were undone and sliding down his thighs. She flashed a wicked grin.
"I'll make you feel," she said, sliding down to take her place before him.
His eyes flared wide.
"But we just met," he said.
She smiled up at him, leaning in.
"Technically," she said, relishing the touch of his hand on her cheek, "we haven't even met yet."
Our instructions this week:
Key Phrase: “But we just met”
Word Limit: 300
Forbidden Words: Alley, Knees, Whore
Bonus Words: Make it in the daytimeExtra Credit: Tell us the dirtiest place you’ve ever had sex
So, I went over on the word count, but I'll claim bonus points for daytime. And I didn't link, because I'm so late. I still wanted to write, though, so here I am.
As for the dirtiest place I've had sex, um, it was both disgusting and embarrassing. It was an outhouse. Dirty as in naughty, perhaps the happiest place on Earth?
Friday, July 25, 2014
I stand in the doorway, awaiting instruction. My appearance is exactly as she requested. Demanded. I walk slowly into the parlor, carefully counting my steps. A strong, masculine hand takes mine. I hear a low sound of approval as he raises my arm over my head and turns me in a slow circle. His hand releases mine. I wait, breathless, for the next move. This is all I was truly prepared for. The rest, she said, will be entirely up to him.
His hot breath comes against my ear.
"Aren't you a thing of beauty," he says.
A single fingertip brushes the tops of my breasts. A smooth palm caresses my ass. From across the room I hear her voice.
"Will she do, love," she asks.
I gasp as his tongue traces my shoulder before he replies.
"Best. Birthday. Ever."
I watched his face as she entered the room. I told him he had a surprise. We waited in the parlor. The moment she walked through the doors, he stopped speaking. He began to rise, then hesitated, looking to me for approval. Permission. I nodded my encouragement, despite the lump in my throat. His face was transformed with lust. I blinked my burning eyes. It was a beautiful expression, one that he hadn't turned to me in years.
I watched him touch her. Caress her. Whisper in her ear. I swallowed hard and spoke.
"Will she do, love," I asked.
I watch his slacks stretch tight across his hardening cock as he continued to appraise his gift. I raised an eyebrow. No need for Viagra tonight.
My throat tightened as I thought of all I've done, all I've given him. His words cut deep.
"Best. Birthday. Ever."
Our instructions this week...
Keywords: Entrance or Exit, but not bothForbidden Words: Slave, Slut, Blindfold
Bonus Words: Tell us a story about your first experience with a blindfold or sensory deprivation
Extra Credit: Put more than two peope in the room, but don't let the extras touch.
150 words from her perspective and
150 from another's.
Friday, July 18, 2014
One More Time
Professor, Tears, Road
Take off your shirt as you write
Send someone a picture of you writing
She bit her lip as he walked away beside someone else. It was unacceptable. She was his. He had to turn around one more time.
She grabbed her dress by the hem and pulled it over her head. The only thing she wore beneath it was the memory of his touch. A smile flickered across her lips as he glanced back over his shoulder, but he just kept walking. Damn, he was serious.
She dropped her dress as they faded from view. She stood waiting for him in nothing but her high heels. Dusk settled around her shoulders. Goosebumps dusted her bare skin. Then doubt crept in. Finally, she bent over and grabbed the crumpled heap from the ground. A voice came from behind her.
"Now, that's the view I've been waiting for."
Relief came as his fingers traced the curve of her ass.
"You weren't about to leave, were you?" He popped her ass with a firm slap. "Because I told you to stay."
She stood straight and lowered her eyes.
"No," she whispered.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and lowered her to her knees, unbuckling his pants with his other hand.
She licked her lips in anticipation.
He smiled down at her, caressing the side of her face. He thought of the gravel digging into her knees, and the hours she'd spent waiting, naked, just as he'd asked. He swallowed hard. His cock was harder.
He closed his eyes and smiled, stroking himself inches from her mouth.
"That's my girl."
Monday, July 14, 2014
FAA (or local equivalent), Service
Word Limit: 300
Forbidden Words: Flight, Mile High Club
Extra Credit: Add an element of Truth
Bonus Words: 50 if she's not a stewardess
"Like what you see?"
Her position was demure, considering her state of undress. Honey blonde curls tumbled over bare shoulders to cover her breasts. Her legs were crossed, only the thin strip of black silk at her hip hinting at the flimsy thong. A black kitten heel dangled from her right foot, bouncing slowly up and down as she swung her leg. He lowered his clipboard in front of his cock to obscure his immediate hard-on. Her full lips curved into a smile.
"Ma'am," he stammered, "I'm not done with my inspection."
She stood, sliding her panties down over long, shapely legs.
"I'll give you something to inspect," she replied, taking a step towards him.
His eyes took in every inch of her smooth skin, rosy nipples, and the perfectly manicured blonde triangle at the juncture of her thighs. His tongue flicked out across his lower lip. Beads of sweat gathered across his brow. And still she stood before him in those sexy-ass heels. He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the clipboard.
"Ma'am, the FAA requires that every private plane pass an annual inspection..."
She dropped to her knees in front of him, running her hand over his straining erection before unbuckling his belt, unzipping his slacks, and pulling out his rock-hard cock.
"Oh, this is my plane," she said. He groaned the tip of her tongue swirled around the head of his dick. "I guarantee it will pass."
Her fingers curled tight around the base of his shaft.
His breath staggered as he watched his dick disappear into her hot, pink mouth. He dropped his hand to the back of her head, guiding her deeper, losing himself in her wet warmth. Everything else fell away with a flick of her tongue.
"Oh, yes, ma'am." His words were barely audible over the sound of his clipboard clattering to the ground. "Yes, it will."
This was my first attempt at participating in FFF. I'd love some feedback. (Be kind... lol.)