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Friday, 9 May 2014

Home Sweet Home - Verse II

 Collaboration with Keeper of the Crimson Quill

Something woke me.  It could have been the thunder, much closer than it had been when I drifted off.  It could have been Christine, now at the side of the bed, whining and licking my hand….thunderstorms frightened her.  Or it could have been the change in the air in the room.  I felt it move over me….not so much a breeze, more like the pressure you might feel from g-force - that invisible hand that held you in your seat during a carnival ride as it flipped you upside down.  It was cool and sensual and I was soothed and aroused by the sensation.

Without opening my eyes I whispered to Christine, calming her, telling her it was okay, just a storm as my hand gently stroked the soft long fur on her head.  I was very much enjoying the effect the air was having on my body and I didn’t want to break the spell.  It dried the light sheen of sweat that the humidity had left on my skin, moving over my neck like a trail of kisses from a lover’s lips down toward my swelling tits and hardening nipples.

I moaned and opened my legs wide, my knees bent as the tendrils of the air pressed against my belly, invisible fingers continuing their downward journey to ease the ache that was building in my cunt. Accepting the invitation I had given it, I felt it move between my legs, opening the lips of my pussy, exposing the glistening nub of my clit throbbing with want and passion.  A part of me knew what was happening was more than just some weird barometric pressure playing against my skin, yet it was nothing of a human nature either.  I felt no fear as I let it explore my body inside and out.

A cold sensation, much like a wet tongue moved over my cunt, gently caressing the lips of my pussy and clit, dipping inside me, cooling me from the inside out and I lifted my ass to meet the phantom lips and tongue.  Fireworks of red, blue and yellow flashed behind my closed eyelids as the lightning from the storm filled the room with light.  Christine shook and cried under my hand but I was too involved in my own pleasure, a pleasure I hadn’t felt in such a long time to comfort her.

Thunder clapped loudly shaking the house just I felt a cold hard and very large pressure drive itself into me.  Christine let out a yelp of fear but was drowned out by my own cry of pleasure as I threw my head back and reached over my head to hold the wrought iron headboard for support.  Having released my hold on Christine, she abandoned me in her fear and scrambled for cover under the bed.    

My phantom lover wrapped itself around my hips, holding my body in the air, anchored only by my hold on the headboard as it thrust itself hard and fast into me, fucking my welcoming and wet pussy. What was happening was not anything earthly….I knew it and I didn’t care.  No previous sexual encounter lived up to what was happening to my body at this moment.  The air was cold yet left hot traces on my skin.  The touch I felt was not solid but undeniably real and I felt it everywhere, much like the force of walking against a gale-force wind.  Every erogenous zone on my naked body was being caressed, played with simultaneously.  I bit down hard on my lip, holding back my orgasm, not wanting this to ever end as the storm raged on outside.  My hair was damp though I’m not sure if it was a result of my own exertion as I rocked my hips, intensifying my ecstasy, or if it was from the rain beating into the bedroom through the open window.

My pleasure was too intense and I found it impossible to hold back any longer.  My back arched as I threw my head back, my body becoming a solid board as every muscle tensed with the shudders that overtook me, as the fireworks continued in my head blocking out all else.

As my consciousness slowly came back to me, I felt my body being lowered back down gently onto my soft bed.  The air pressure moving out and away from me once again, slipping off me like a bedsheet as I heard the thunder moving away, the storm resuming it’s path across the countryside.  The rain continued, though now falling gently outside the window, the wind having moved on with the thunder and lightning, lulling my exhausted and sated body back to sleep.

I had long been fascinated by thunder. As a child I used to sit by my window counting the beats and waiting patiently for it to light up the skies. This night something was different, the brewing storm aroused me more than was customary and I felt attuned to its rhythmic clatter. I had laid my head down to sleep an hour ago but the incessant swirling audio and periodical flashes of light had kept me awake, as had the deep stirring within my balls. I was fully erect, so much so that my stiff cock ached from base to its very tip and I felt a yearning inside which I had no real handle on.

I turned with the intention of returning to the warm comfort of my divan was alarmed to witness something writhing between them. For a moment I pondered as to what was spread out before me but the satin sheets obscured any clear optical indicators and instead I relied on the light panting for any enlightenment. As I proceeded towards my bed the audio became more pronounced and I could make it out more clearly. It was evidently a female, glistening with perspiration and seemingly inviting me in; all the while totally unaware of my presence. I felt a familiar twinge in my balls and this caused my eyes to roll back, such was the focused intensity of the testicular tremor. It had to measure at least an eight.

Unable to deny myself any longer, I whipped back the glossy linen and, there before me, was a sight for the sorest eyes. A naked woman, face obscured by shadow, nipples firmly erect and flaxen locks sprawled out across the pillowcase; just what the doctor ordered. It was as though she could feel my presence in the room although she did not speak, instead her shell reciprocated any advance on my part and arched in waiting as I slid in between her legs. My shoulders glanced her painted toes and traced up her thighs until I reached the center of her arousal. On arrival, I ran both hands along the curvature of her hips and towards her chest, grasping both breasts and thumbing her rigid nipples.

She let out a gasp and I felt her wetness against my forehead as I climbed from her asshole, along each rung and nestled my burly tongue into her clit. Her scent was intoxicating, I pressed the tip of my nose against her button and intook the sweet, cloying aroma. Ripened forest fruits. My licker began to traverse the inside of her delectable cunt and kept unraveling, each movement inciting further convulsions as her inner thighs closed in around my face, pressing me deeper. I released one hand from her front and collected a glib of honey from her haunch with two fingers, commencing to slide them back to her slackening anus. Delicately, I probed and probed and was now spinning the plates on four fronts, much to her quivering delight.

I felt the storm around us, only the thunder which had threatened previously appeared to exist in every fiber of her pelt. It was raging inside as was my gnarling prick so I left her sticky hub momentarily and she reciprocated by raised her ass from the bed and throwing her drenched hair back, palms against the bedstead in anticipation. Her pussy was sopping, nectar glistening in her labia, awaiting further instruction. I place one hand under her back and assumed position, keeping her elevated as I plundered her cunt with my pulsating cock. As I entered, a gush of excitement passed by and doused my balls which were pressed hard against her paddock.

Her imminent eruption denoted that she was prepared to cum for me and, I myself could feel the ejaculate slide around the base of my shaft. Each thrust was synchronized almost as though an electricity ran through both of us. Yet, I hadn't yet seen her face. Here we were in the throes of passion, the boudoir stinking of sex and both of us percolating wildly but she remained ambiguous. The curiosity overcame me and I allowed my honey to release whilst moving my head in line with hers. As she jerked left and right her features remained contorted but I caught a fleeting glimpse of her eyes as her lids fluttered with overwhelming pleasure. She cum hard against me, milking the last few droplets of spunk from my well-coiled member.

I closed my own eyes and exhaled harshly, lowering her gently back down and sitting upright on both knees astride her as I regained composure. By the time they reopened I was alone, dripping in perspiration and meshed bodily fluids but with this inexplicable beauty now conspicuously absent. The thunder had passed now and the tender persistence of the rain continued outside the window. It had been a most exquisite storm.

Pictures provided by Keeper....

Sunday, 4 May 2014

Li'l Bit Country

The day was incredibly hot for Spring.  I decided to take a walk downtown, do some window shopping and enjoy the sunshine.  I was happy to get back into my summer clothes and chose a pretty little sundress with my high heeled sandals to wear.

I wasn't the only one enjoying the sunshine and the sidewalks were busy with people bustling about.  The mood was delightful, strangers and friends smiling at one another as they passed each other or stopped to exclaim on the beautiful day.  I found that I had walked for blocks, stopping in one store after another.  There was a light sheen of perspiration on my skin and my feet were becoming tired as I passed a bar with country tunes drifting out into the street.

Now, everyone who knows me knows I'm a hard rocker at heart but the thought of a cold beer in the air conditioned bar was just too much of a temptation to pass up.  The bar was empty save for the country band that was performing their sound-check on the stage and the bartender behind the bar.  I made my way across the open expanse of the dance floor to the bar.  I glanced at the band to find the lead singer had noticed me come in and shot me a smile as he continued to sing.

"Are you serving?"  I asked the handsome well built young bartender as I perched myself on a stool in front of him.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.  "What can I get for you?"

I ordered a beer and flirted with the bartender as the band continued with their sound check.  The music was original yet traditional and it took me back to my childhood.  Memories of sitting in the backseat of my parent's car on family vacations, belting out "The Snakes Crawl At Night" with Charlie Pride between fighting with my younger sister came to mind and it was a good feeling.  It just added to the good mood of this incredibly beautiful day.

I finished my beer just as the band finished up their practice song and set down their guitars and drumsticks and left the stage, making their way to the bar.  My handsome young friend was about to become busy, so I decided to brave the heat of the street once again.  Smiling, I waved my thanks to the bartender and turned to leave.  My heel caught in the bar of the bar-stool and I would have landed flat on my face if it hadn't been for a pair of strong arms to catch me.

"Easy girl," a slow southern drawl exclaimed from my rescuer and I looked up to see that it belonged to the lead singer who had smiled at me when I walked in.  He was about my age, perhaps a few years older and I was taken right away with the sexy crinkles around his smiling eyes.  He was greying a little at his temples under his tan cowboy hat but that only added to his sexiness.

I was embarrassed by my clumsiness and flushed as I said thank you.  My hands were still on his arms just above his elbows as he held me up and my fingers could feel his lean hard muscle under his thin cotton shirt.  I flushed a little deeper and let go of him and nearly fell again.  My ankle was badly twisted and there was no way I was leaving this bar with any shred of dignity.  I didn't know this man and even though the chances of running into him again were slim, I did not want his last look at me to be of me limping across the floor to the door.

"You just set yourself back up there on that stool and let me take a look at that ankle," he said, obviously concerned about me.  I sat back down as he dropped to one knee and took my ankle into his warm hands.  "Yep,"  he said, "it's already starting to swell.  You should get some ice on that right away."  He moved to motion to the bartender but I stayed his hand telling him I would ice it when I got home. 

"Well, I just can't let a pretty lady like you go on out that door without knowing you'll be okay.  Our show isn't for hours.  Will you please allow me to see you home."  His drawl was memorizing, and the concerned look in his eyes told me I'd be safe in hands.

"That's very kind of you.  If you promise me I won't be putting out, I would appreciate that very much," I replied.

"No ma'am.  You'd be doing me a favor by letting me see to your safety."  With his hand around my waist and supporting my hurt side he helped me across the floor and out the door to his pick-up truck.

"Excuse the mess...we've been on the road for a couple of weeks and well, if I knew I was going to have such lovely company, I would have cleaned up a bit."  I assured him that it wasn't bad at all and I was not bothered in the least.  I gave him directions to my condo and we talked easily on the way to my home.  I learned he and the band were from Texas...they were a long way from home and had been playing honky-tonks for the last couple of weeks.  The band traveled in the bus with all their equipment but he liked the solitude of the pick-up between shows and it came in handy to run errands instead of having to drive the bus to do laundry or run to the store to stock up on groceries and such. 

We arrived at my complex and after parking he got out and hurried around to my side to help me out of the truck and into the building.  I let him into my unit and he helped to settle me on my couch before removing his boots and hat.  He made his way into my kitchen and to the freezer to find some ice.

"There are zip-lock bags in the drawer next to the microwave and you can use the tea-towel hanging on the's clean," I called to him. "Oh, and there's cold beer in the fridge.  The least I can do is offer you a drink for your kindness."

He returned with the ice-pack in one hand and a couple of beers in his other.  I slipped off my sandals and placed my sore ankle on the coffee table in front of the couch.  He handed me one of the beers before setting his on the coffee table and placing the ice-pack on my ankle.  When he was satisfied that the ice was placed properly over my ankle he moved around the coffee table to sit beside me on the couch and we talked more as we slowly enjoyed the cold beer.
He was easy to talk to and I enjoyed his company.  When our beers were drained he took our empties and placed them on the coffee table before rising and moved around the coffee table again to check my ankle.  He crouched beside me, removed the pack and took my ankle to rest on his lap.  His hands felt incredible on my ankle and I let a small moan as I purred, "That feels lovely."  I noticed that the ache I was feeling had moved from my ankle to between my legs.

I saw him flush slightly and felt a movement in his jeans under my foot.  I couldn't resist the urge to move my foot to lightly brush against his crotch.  "Would it be too forward of me to tell you that I really want to kiss you?" he asked as his hands moved up my leg to caress my calf.

I removed my foot from his lap and held my hands out for him to help me from the couch.  We stood together and I intertwined my fingers in his and leaned toward him, my nipples hardening under the thin fabric of my sundress as they brushed against against his chest.  His mouth came down on mine in a kiss that was sweet as honey.  I let go of his hands to wrap my arms around his neck and his wrapped around my waist, he left one hand on the small of my back while his other moved up between my shoulder blades to press me closer against him.

Our kiss became deeper, more urgent as our tongues found each other, teasing playfully.  I could feel his desire pressing against my belly.  I broke our kiss to look into his eyes and saw his desire mirrored in them. "Would it be too forward of me to ask if you would like to move this to my bedroom?" I asked with a teasing smile as I disengaged myself from his arms and took his hand in mine, leading him into my bedroom.

I stopped beside the bed and turned to face him.  His hands cupped my face as he lowered his head to cover my face in soft kisses.  He moved his hands to the back of my neck to untie the halter that was covering my now swollen and aching tits.  My hands were on his elbows as my halter dropped to expose me.  "Oh darl'n, you are beautiful," he breathed before moving his hot wet mouth to take my nipple between his teeth, his tongue flicking over it, sending shivers of desire down my back, through my belly and into my soaking wet pussy.

My hands reached behind my back to unzip my zipper and my dress fell to the floor around my ankles.  He stepped back to look at me.  I was a long way from twenty years old but my body was still shapely, my tummy flat, my hips curvy.  I slipped my thumbs under the elastic of my cotton string bikini panties and let them fall to join my dress around my ankles.  Stepping out of them, I backed onto the bed and lay back as I watched him undress.

His body was lean and firm and when my eyes caught his erection, I felt another gush between my legs.  He laid down on the bed beside me and looked into my eyes as he kissed my lips and let his hand roam over my body.  His hand found its way to between my legs and I opened them wider to let his fingers work their magic.  He rubbed my clit hard in slow circular motions causing me to erupt in moans of ecstasy.  Without stopping with his fingers, he moved his mouth to once again tease my nipples.

He was driving me insane with anticipation.  "I want to taste you, baby,"  I moaned.  "Me first," he replied kissing his way down my belly.  I squirmed out from beneath him and made another suggestion, "How about together?"  I pushed him back so he was laying flat on his back.  I maneuvered myself to straddle his head backwards and took his cock into my mouth at the same time as I felt his tongue slide over my pussy.  I moaned and my mouth watered as I took him deeper, my tongue sliding up and down him with the movement of my head.

I stroked his length with one hand as my mouth worked up and down and used my other hand to cup his balls, squeezing gently.  His hands were on my ass, spreading my cheeks apart and kneading as his tongue darted into my pussy to taste my juices.  Oh, his skills with his tongue were divine and I could feel my orgasm building.  I sucked harder and faster and felt his balls tightening under the slight pressure of my palm.  My pussy tightened, spasming and I rocked my hips, grinding myself against his mouth.  I lifted my head to arch my back as my orgasm shook my body and I filled his mouth with my juices.

His tongue was driving me crazy with pleasure as it licked back every last drop.  I couldn't take it.  He was going to make me cum again.  I lifted my leg and swung myself around to kiss myself off his lips before getting on all fours and encouraging him to get behind me.  He moved to kneel between my legs behind me and took my hips in his hands as he slid his throbbing cock into my wet and still quivering cunt.  He held himself deep inside me for a moment enjoying the way my pussy wrapped itself around him, clenching and unclenching. His strokes started long and slow and I pushed myself back against him harder.  As he picked up speed, I rocked my hips keeping with his rhythm.

"Oh yeah, missy," he exclaimed. "Ride me baby!"  His hands moved from my hips, grabbing my long blonde in his fist, he slapped my ass with the other.  I squealed with delight, my pussy tightening harder around his thrusting cock both of us moments away from orgasm.  He slapped me again and my pussy reacted violently, quivering and clenching as I covered his cock with my cum.  My back arched and he pulled me up to my knees by my hair before letting go and grabbing my tits.  Driving himself deep into me, he let his own orgasm go, filling me with his seed as his fingers pinched my nipples.

I leaned back against him, breathing hard. His hands moved over me, caressing gently once more.  "Dear sweet jesus," he exclaimed. "Look at the time!  I gotta get back darl'n.  S'posed to be on stage in twenty minutes!"

He jumped from the bed and hurriedly dressed.  I lay back and watched him rush about, amused at his panic.  He ran out of the room and then ran back in.  "How's your ankle?"

"What ankle?" I laughed.  He smiled and ran out of the room, then ran back in, hopping as he pulled on his boots.

"Can I come back after the show?" he asked.

"Please do," I smiled.  His grin was enough to make me laugh out loud again.  He gave me a kiss and was out the door.  I lay on the bed, smiling and anticipating his return.

Thursday, 24 April 2014

Home Sweet Home - Verse I

A Collaboration with Keeper of the Crimson Quill

I'm not sure exactly how I found myself in the place I reside now. An unfortunate turn of events rocked me to my foundations a year ago and my idyllic lifestyle was wiped out in favor of a far less picturesque existence. It's nothing more than a transitional stage that I find myself in now, back to my home base to recuperate and lick my wounds. I needed somewhere that I could focus on my writing, somewhere safe. 

I've long been disconnected from any apron strings, have been independent since I first moved out of the family home at twenty. So it was with heavy heart that I returned to the scene of my adolescence. That's not to say that the times I spent there weren't jovial, on the contrary, I was blessed with a happy upbringing and have many fond memories within these fortifications. However, once you have made that decision to forge your own path in life, it becomes uncontemplatable taking those two steps back.

There are times in your life when it is necessary just to bite the bullet and I masticated hard on the one fired my way. I relocated from my modernized century-old cottage to a poky little bed chamber, pallid and somewhat unwelcoming to a man fast approaching his forties. Fuck it, I had to do something right? It seemed fruitless renting and I had made the decision to cease employment and follow my dreams of becoming a writer. All my monies were temporarily unobtainable and only likely to be freed upon a lengthy divorce and I didn't want anything to compromise my goal. So I sucked it up.

Anyhoots, now I'm a prisoner in this place. Not that I'm getting it twisted, my time is largely my own here and right now it serves its purpose rather well. As a sexual creature though, I feel confined. Social outlets dried up on commencement of my return and I spend large portions of my day with myself and I as company. I'm self-sufficient so it suits the purpose but, to say that I don't crave the touch of another, would be to tell a rather hefty mistruth. That's what we all desire ultimately, to feel with our fingertips, kiss with our lips and fuck with whatever it is we're packing. I miss that. 
A few dusks passed something happened...something I felt as though I had no control over whilst, in the same moment, something I totally owned. The sun had ebbed away, leaving behind it chilly whispers as its moist rejoinder. I had been outside, grimacing like a cooler at a poker table, punishing myself as I invariably do by choosing such a frosty locale to scribe my prose. It was one of those deceptive evenings where it felt warmer than it actually was, leaving me chilled through to my marrow and none the wiser for a lengthy period. Eventually the penny dropped.
I'm more of a shower person ordinarily but my former walk-in cubicle had been replaced  with a modest wall-fitting which could best be described as working. Thus, the cramped bathtub was my destination this night and I spent forty five uncomfortable minutes semi-submerged and without so much as a rubber ducky as company. Naturally, at one juncture, attention turned to my soaping myself down and my cantankerous cock began to stir as it traditionally does in such circumstances. Always the opportunist. Nevertheless, something held me back from petting on this I left him be.

Some of my least favorite moments in life are those few breath-stealing minutes after you evacuate your tub/shower of choice and re-acclimatize while you towel yourself dry. It has become customary for Keeper to slide naked under the divan while this adjustment takes place. This night I felt different to others, wired what I had no idea but there was electricity present and furthermore it appeared my stiff prick was acting as some sort of conductor. I nestled back into my array of pillows, closed my eyes tight and reached down to grip my thumping member.

I couldn't shake this nagging feeling that I was in the presence of an unannounced other, could feel a mesh of essence in the air which was wholly intoxicating. I peeked out, just to ensure it wasn't my mother delivering a pile of ironed linen to my boudoir. Once satisfied, I kicked off the sheets and hoisted my nectarinal derriere from the mattress, my rigid cock standing sentinel-like at the apex.

There was an accompanying feeling also, that being of inhabiting another place entirely. The bite in the air had been replaced with a heady heat although my bedstead felt colder than usual against my bare pelt, as though were it fashioned from wrought iron. The baritone rumblings of approaching storms were in contrast to the clear dusk I had been presented with formerly. Indeed the whole integrity of the atmosphere had changed. In addition, I felt soothed by the mollifying sound of crickets, not an audio conducive to my current environment. Regardless of any discombobulation felt I had never before felt so utterly serene and, in the self same moment, aching to cum. 

I loved this house.  I had purchased it after my divorce for a dime and a song…well, a little more than that, but I couldn’t help feeling I had stolen it, the price was so low.  Yes it needed a little work but mostly cosmetic fixes.  The foundation was solid and the windows and doors opened and closed easily having been replaced decades after the settling had ceased on the hundred year old home.

It was nestled in the country, quiet and secluded and the second I stepped inside upon my first viewing, I felt welcomed by the old place.  It seemed to have a spirit that greeted me with warmth and assured me that this was home…the perfect setting for me to write my book during my year-long sabbatical from work. 

I needed the time to get my head straight.  The divorce had been bitter and nasty, a battle that had raged mercilessly in the court system for three years.  My lawyer had earned every cent that my ex was now paying him.  He had fought for me valiantly, winning me a settlement that allowed me to buy and fix this place up, not to mention that it also afforded me the privilege of taking a year off work without having to tighten my purse strings or pinch pennies.

So far though, I hadn’t yet written a word.  It seemed my tortured brain needed the break as well, and I had put my laptop aside and kept my hands busy with a trowel and paintbrush instead.  The colours I chose for the rooms were cheery, adding light and lifting my spirits.  The floors were made of good hardwood and I decided that only a light sanding was needed for them.  I wanted to keep some of the scuffs and scratches ingrained for character.

The hard physical work was having a positive effect on me.  My body was becoming lean and toned and the aches that throbbed in my muscles the first weeks of starting my renovations were dissipating, leaving me feeling strong and fit.  The fresh air and sunshine that kissed my skin as I worked weeding the gardens against the stone foundation gave me a golden glow that not only made me feel ten years younger but made me look it as well.

I was enjoying getting acquainted with my new home, often talking to it as I worked patching and painting, sanding and staining.  Tonight I ran my hand over the smoothly sanded trim like a lover’s caress, “You are so strong and beautiful.  Isn’t it Christine?”  My golden retriever responded by thumping her tail against the floor as she lay watching me,  thrilled that I was including her in the conversation.

The heat outside was very nearly unbearable.  The air above the asphalt driveway shimmering still even as the sun started to dip below the horizon casting hues of deep purple and orange into the clouds that were gathering in the evening sky.  I heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance.  The rain that was surely threatening would certainly be good to cool things but in the meantime, the humidity was causing beads of sweat to form at my nape under my long blonde hair and trickle down curling like a snake around my neck before continuing their path downward to be caught in my modest cleavage.

It had been a long, hot day and the heavy air was making me more tired than usual.  I decided to wash the heat and sweat off my skin under a cool shower and go to bed.  My skin still damp from the shower and with Christine at my heels as usual, I made my way through the house to my bedroom in the darkening night, not bothering to turn on the lights.  My long wet hair, clung to my back, giving me the fleeting sensation of being embraced.  I suddenly realized how much I missed being touched by another.  I stood at my bedroom window, my forehead against the glass and let my hand flutter over my apple shaped breast, relishing the feel of the soft tender flesh.  How I longed for a man's hand at this moment.  Yes, a man's hand, a man's lips, a man's touch.  I felt the moisture between my legs as an old familiar ache started building in my pussy and I let out a deep sigh, my breath fogging the glass in front of my face.

My temperature was rising again and decided I really didn't want to make myself hot all over again.  Letting my hand drop from my swelling tit and hardened nipple, I pushed away my desires.  I opened the window hoping for a breeze only to be disappointed by the stillness of the night.  Not even a breath to flutter the light sheer curtain that hung open beside the bedroom window.  The curtains were for decorative purposes only.  There seemed to be no need to close them at all as there were no prying eyes for miles. 

I had kept the wrought iron double bed that had been left in the house. It’s dark twisted metal was cold and hard yet like the rest of the house, it welcomed and comforted me.  Christine curled herself into the dog pillow I kept at the foot of the bed and I laid down on top of my down comforter, not wanting the weight nor the heat of even a thin cotton sheet covering me.   Completely naked, I rolled onto my back, closed my eyes and let the cricket’s night time serenade sing me to sleep.

For this story and more from Keeper of the Crimson Quill, please visit

Saturday, 12 April 2014

But Him....Damn...

Damn, I like him.  I can’t help myself.  When I left my husband a couple of years ago, the last thing I wanted was another relationship…hell, even today the thought of commitment, compromise, the cleaning of the toilet still turns me off anything too serious.  But him…damn.

The hilarious part was he lived so close to where I used to live back when I was happily, then unhappily married… and yet, though the town was small…everybody knows everybody, I didn’t know him when I lived there…well, I knew of him, but I didn’t know him, y’know?

Well, let’s just say circumstances presented themselves and I’ve had the opportunity to get to know him since I moved 800 miles away.  Turns out we have tons in common.  I don’t find that in many men my own age.  I have a young heart and spirit and well, let’s just say a majority of the men I’ve met my own age have let their spirits age with their bodies.  Not him though….. damn.  

So…I liked him.  Fine…who couldn’t use another friend, right?  Only one problem…we’re very physically attracted to one another too.  Now, don’t get me wrong...I can think of more than one occasion where that was definitely not a problem for either one of time in particular…..

He came out to the had been months since his last visit.  He was visiting here for family reasons but because he was in the vicinity he gave me a call.  As soon as I heard he was close an overwhelming sense of excitement took over.  It was a sensation I was familiar with.  I had felt many times before as I lay alone in my bed, my eyes closed, letting my hands wander over my body while my mind conjured visualizations of him touching me, tasting me, filling me.  It consisted of a quickening of my heartbeat, a tightening across my chest as my tits swelled and my nipples hardened, a burn low in my belly that moved rapidly and fluidly down my abdomen that left my pussy wet and pulsating.  Yeah, simply put…..horny as hell.

We met for lunch at a very cool local micro-brewery pub and grill.  The beer was incredible and the food even more so.  I had missed him, he was one of a few people I could sit and talk to hours and though I was enjoying catching up on the details of what we’d been up to since the last time we spoke (text messages don’t count - too brief)… and what our plans for the summer were, I kept finding myself distracted as my eyes wandered from his eyes to his mouth to watch his lips move.  I couldn’t help but imagine them on my lips, on my skin.  I practically had to sit on my hands.  It was everything I could do to not reach out and touch him.

He knew.  He knew the effect he was having on me and by the time we finished eating, I could also tell that he knew I was vibrating with excitement and anticipation.  I could tell by the way he grinned at me with that twinkle in his eye as he ordered another beer and leisurely leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable, making me wait, just to tease me…his playful way of torturing me.  Ha!  It worked too…by the time we finished up at the pub and headed out I was so worked up I would’ve cum if he’d blown in my ear.

He hadn’t seen my condo yet, so I invited him back to my place to listen to some music and yeah, I may have even said, “to see my etchings”.   I had to laugh at myself.  I hadn’t been with any other man since the last time we had been alone together, and like I said…it had been months.  I couldn’t help but think of Eddie Murphy’s stand-up routine…the one where he’s referring to how women will hold out sexually to make men want them more.  He speaks of being a starving man who’s fed crackers….”Those the most delicious mother-fucking crackers you ever ate…those crackers are fucking filet Mignon” …or something to that effect anyway.  I wondered for just a moment if he was trying to make me starve.

Wouldn’t make a difference if he was…. I already knew I wasn’t settling for crackers with him and as a matter of fact, if I was starving, it was because I had decided never to settle for crackers again!  In any case, this starving chick was looking forward to digging into a nice big steak…some very delicious Alberta beef, ha!

We entered the elevator that would take us up to my condo.  I brushed close to him as I pressed the button for my floor and I felt my temperature rise.  Trying to hide the flush in my cheeks, I dug through my purse, looking for my keys.  You can imagine how my flush deepened when I found them still in my hand from opening the building door…..then dropping them on the elevator floor.  He bent over and picked them up.  When he rose, I saw that grin again…the grin and the twinkle in his eye.  The grin and twinkle that said he knew…..fuck…..

I was a goner and I knew it.  The only hope I had was to shut up and not fucking giggle too much.  I pointed out the proper key when we arrived at my door and he unlocked it and swung it open, allowing me to enter first.  As we walked in, I had my back to him and it somehow gave me the confidence to keep my cool.  Without turning I pointed to my left, “This is the kitchen,” I said.  Moving down the short hallway I took another step and without stopping pointed to the right and said, “and this is the bathroom.”   Within a couple more steps I reached the 90 degree turn in the hall.  I turned and faced him about present him with my bedroom.  I wanted him to see the twinkle in my eye for a change.

Before I had the chance to comprehend what the intense look in his eyes meant, he grabbed me, pushing me hard against the wall behind me, his mouth coming down on mine.  My body was on fire.  I reacted immediately, moaning against his lips and grinding my pelvis against his as my arms went around his neck.  His body pinned me against the wall and I held his head tight against mine, kissing him hard and deep, my tongue darting into his mouth to find his, my teeth pulling at his bottom lip.  His hands were all over me, working with a frantic yet controlled urgency.  It didn’t take them long to find their way under my t-shirt, roughly pushing it up over my tits along with my bra.  His mouth disappeared off mine and I felt his lips, wet and hot on one nipple while his fingers kneaded and pinched my other.   I pulled my jacket, t-shirt and bra over my head and dropped them to the floor in a heap.  My hands returned to the back of his head and I pulled him closer to my tits. 
His mouth went back and forth between my tits, licking and sucking as his hands moved down, pulling on my belt, then the button and zipper of my jeans.  I pulled on his shirt, wanting to feel his skin on mine.  He stood for a moment and pulled his shirt off.  He kept his eyes open as his mouth came down on mine again, my leg came up to wrap around his hip, pulling him closer to me.  The only things between us were our hands as mine worked on opening his jeans and his slipped under the elastic of my lace panties.  His fingers were immediately treated to the heat and the wetness he had been causing between my legs.  He watched my eyes widen as his thick finger found its way inside of me, then watched them glaze over with passion as my hips began to rock back and forth, fucking his finger, my hands gripping the open waistband of his jeans for purchase and my lips and tongue greedily kissing, tasting his mouth.

His lips moved roughly over my cheeks and chin and down my neck.  Keeping one hand on the waistband of his jeans, I reached into his jeans with my other one.  Tasting his way back up my neck he stopped at my ear. “I want to fuck you…” his voice breathed, low and urgently against my ear just as my hand wrapped around his huge and hard cock and my pussy clenched even more tightly around his finger. “……now,” he finished as he wiggled his finger inside me.
It was all too much.  “Oh fuck yes,” I moaned loudly as the blood left my head and I held onto him tightly as my pussy convulsed around his finger, covering it with my hot juices as I came.  Relentlessly he continued to pump his finger in and out, taking my orgasm so high I was afraid I might pass out.

I pushed his hand out of my pants, found my breath and my balance and disengaged from him.  I led him around the corner to my bedroom. I had held his hard throbbing cock in my hand and that’s what I wanted inside me.  I kicked off my shoes as I pulled my jeans and panties the rest of the way down my ass and legs.  By the time I reached the bed and turned around I was completely naked…..and I was thrilled to see he was too.  I fell backward on the bed and he was on top of me.  With one strong firm thrust he was deep inside me.  I gasped loudly as the still quivering, wet walls of my pussy clenched tightly around him and my pelvis instinctively rose to his.  He held himself deep inside me for a moment and my hands went to his ass, pulling him close as I spread my legs open wider, wanting him all.

His hips started to thrust back and forth in a steady rhythm and I fucked him back, meeting each thrust with a lift of my ass as his eyes held mine.  Oh god he felt so fucking good inside me…I wanted to fuck him forever and set my mind to do just that.  I reveled in having him on top of me, feeling the weight of his body on mine, smelling the light musky smell of his sweat and our sex, hearing his breath catch with each deep hard thrust.  I felt a series of mini orgasms as he fucked me, I fucked him back through the shudders that took over my legs with each one, each one taking me to a higher level of ecstasy, each one causing me to moan his name with passion.  His rhythm began to falter slightly and I urged him to roll onto his back.

We stayed joined together as we held each other, rolling over and switching positions.  I sat up, my knees straddling his hips and ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my face and letting it fall down my back. I felt his hips stiffen underneath me as he kept his cock hard and deep inside me.  I stretched my torso and arched my back slightly, letting my head fall back as I swiveled my hips and rocked back and forth on top of him.  I kept my hands on my thighs…I wanted to concentrate solely on his cock…to please him as much as he pleased me.

I moved slowly to start, wanting to feel each fucking lovely inch of him impale me as I lowered myself on him, then let my pussy lips slide up his long length as I rose up again.  I felt his hands on my tits…he squeezed and pinched and my rhythm picked up.  I was breathing hard and I knew I was going to cum even harder.  I wanted him to cum with me…..I fucked him harder and faster, gripping his forearms and bucking wildly on top of him.  I couldn’t hold on anymore…my pussy quivered violently and flooded his throbbing cock with my cum as the muscles in my thighs locked hard, squeezing his hips. I cried out my pleasure and approval as my orgasm took over and I was rewarded with the sound of his cry and the bite of his fingers digging into my hips as he held me down on him tightly and exploded with his own orgasm deep inside me.

Completely spent and weak I collapsed on top of him, resting my head against his chest as he ran his fingers lightly up and down my back.  I basked in the feeling of complete satisfaction and relaxation.  Oh yes, being physically attracted to each other definitely had its benefits.  The problem with it would come soon enough…when he tapped my leg…an indication that he needed to get up.  That he would be leaving soon…and it would be months again before we would get to do this again. 
Ah fuck it, I could think of worse problems….. ;)

Saturday, 8 February 2014

Hell Hath No Fury - Chapter 1

His frame completely blocked the hot water from her.  The only droplets of water that had touched her since she switched places with him after quickly washing her hair were the ones that bounced off his broad shoulders as he stood under the water and washed his own. 
She squeezed a dollop of liquid soap on her shower puff and extended it around him to wet it under the running shower. He was beautiful.  His head was back as he rinsed his long hair behind him, his hands on his head massaging away the last remnants of lather from the shampoo. With his arms back, his chest opened wide showing off how incredibly well built he was.  The tattoos that adorned most of his upper torso, covering his chest and arms read as their own storyboard of pain and torture. The art itself almost seemed to come to life above his rippling muscles as he moved.  Carrie had no idea of their meaning.  Her love of horror was something that she visited on occasion, she didn't live there....she didn't research or explore the origins of the demons that were prominent in the books she read, so she didn't have names for the homogenous beasts displayed in explicit detail, their penises huge and hard, blood dripping from their razor sharp fangs and claws onto the naked flesh of the buxom beauties sprawled under them nor for the symbols that all of which were carved beautifully on his skin.
Carolynn Fox, more commonly just Carrie, wasn’t one to scare easily....well, probably because she didn’t believe in any of it....She believed in the Devil about as much as she believe in God which was not at all.  She wasn’t a follower of any traditional faith.  Her belief system was directly related to her experiences.  Carrie did believe in a higher power, though….her own theory of a God and Devil wrapped into one.  Though she believed this higher power was one of mankind’s creation and not as most believed the other way around.  This higher power is a source of spiritual energy, positive and negative, collected from every living soul on earth....a collective soul, so to speak.  We feed this collective soul with our spirit swallows the energy we give it, combines it with the energy it's collected from all those around us and spits it back at us, more powerful and righteous in its praise or its vengeance, depending of course on what we've fed it.  
Carrie also believed that energy was fed by many black souls.  The kind of souls that found righteousness in murder, torture, rape and destruction.  The ones that beat their children and wives because that was the only way they know to exert the control they felt they must possess at every given moment.  No, Carrie didn’t believe the monsters we faced were hell spawn demons....she believed them to be human... perhaps lost in their own despair (who knows what kind of hell their life had been) or in their own madness (having surpassed their own breaking point).  Movies and books didn’t scare Carrie....real life did. 
Every once in a while, though, Carrie would come across an author or film maker that would pull her in so deep that while she was a victim of their disturbed imaginations, caught in the painful and terrifying images they projected upon her mind, she would wonder if it might be possible that sometimes there is a low evil voice that whispers in the ears of those black souls, issuing instructions. 
C William Giles was one of those authors.  The erotic horror he wrote was deliciously scary and sexy as hell.   Carrie had been acquainted with Craig (the C in C William Giles) for a couple of years but this was the first time they had physically met.  They became fast friends online after she had read his first book and reached out to him.  His books were dark and spoke of the evil forces that lay in wait for the weakness of man to show itself.  Waiting for him to  desperately offer his skills to promote evil in exchange for rewards that would eventually hold him hostage.  Oh yeah, and the sex scenes were kinky and graphic....fucking hot as hell!  She loved it and had to tell him so.  She had also sent him a link to her own writing.  Very graphic erotic short stories.  He apparently appreciated her skills as well.
He was exactly the type at Carrie always went for.  He was a big man and he had a heavy metal style that was so fucking rock and roll.  From his long hair to the goatee expertly shaped on his face.  From the silver rings on his fingers to the tattoos running up his arms.  He dressed completely in black in every picture she’d seen of him.  Yes...he was definitely her type but she was surprised he paid much attention to her at all.  No, Carrie didn’t have any self-conscious issues.  Even at her age, now in her late forties, she still turned heads when she entered into a room.  Her slim figure rests upon a very petite frame so she’d often wear anything from 3" to 5" inch heels to add to her stature.  She was especially fond of stilettos.   Long blonde hair and delicate features had made many people (men and women alike) comment on her resemblance to the very beautiful actress, Kim Basinger.   She couldn’t see it herself, but it had been said enough times that she figured there must be something to it...and she had to admit, it was a very lovely compliment.   She was also intelligent and a talented writer in her own right.
So, no, it wasn't that she felt unattractive or unworthy.  She just understood that she wasn't the type he normally went for.  He made no secret of how turned on he was by brunettes and natural red heads.  He openly admitted it...hell, they were friends that lived an ocean apart.  There seemed to be no danger in being honest with each other....and his taste was also evident in his books.  The brunette and redheaded characters were always sexy and smart, the blondes though attractive were often bubbleheads. 
Not that he had ever made Carrie feel that he thought of her as a bubblehead.  He seemed to genuinely respect her as a music lover and fellow writer.  Regardless of all that though, it didn’t escape Carrie’s attention that his type was metal and leather, tall and exotic....not the blonde blue jean baby that she was.  So, yeah,  despite their friendship (a limited friendship at best), it did surprised her that amid the throng of goth girls at the book signing with their raven black or brilliant red hair, their noses, lips and eyebrows pierced and tattoos visible on their arms and necks, that he had cornered her and invited her to dinner.  The young women at the book signing maybe didn't exactly resemble the beauties described in his books but she figured they probably came way closer than her just through their own personal style. 
The book signing tour was to promote his third book which was hugely popular at his home in the UK as well as in America.   It was hitting the top ten of the most popular recommended reading lists for horror all over the world.  When Carrie learned that his book signing tour would bring him through the city, she was determined she would not miss the opportunity to meet him in person.  They had often talked online….well, texted and emailed, they had never actually spoken.  Despite the physical distance between them, they had discovered a shared passion for horror, metal music and sex.  Especially sex…..their conversations were often full of graphic descriptions of exactly what they wanted to do with one another's naked bodies.  
They shared three bottles of wine as they talked over dinner.  He was living her dream.  He was finally able to give up his day job and live his life as a writer.  The sudden success of his third book had launched sales on his previous two and now he had financial freedom to quit his job and devote all his time and energy to his craft.  Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was all the sex filled fantasies they’d shared, or perhaps it was just sitting across from someone who was successful, sexy and intelligent, that Carrie found her temperature going up and her mind distracted from the conversation by more feral, primitive thoughts.
She watched his lips move but had no concept of what he was saying as her arm reached under the table, her fingertips lightly running up the thigh of his jeans.  She could feel the heat and power of his muscles radiating and penetrating through her fingertips.  Her mind hopelessly lost to the thought of riding that power conjured an image of gripping his hips between her knees as he lay under her that was so vivid, she imagined she could actually feel his cock inside her.  She gasped, startled when he grasped and squeezed her hand, his voice breaking through her reverie to ask with a smile in his eyes, "Would you like to get out of here?"
"Er, yes," her answer came out soft and breathless.  Once outside, the fresh night air helped sober her somewhat and she hailed a cab and gave the driver her home address.  She led him into her modest apartment and closed and locked the door behind them.  Before turning on the light, she encircled her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers.   He came willingly, his arms enveloping her waist,  wrapping her in the heat of his body.  His head bent down to kiss her lips gently at first, then with pronounced urgency, his tongue forcing her lips and teeth apart to plunge into her hot and waiting mouth.  She pressed her body into his, her thigh slipping around his hip, her hands moving over his chest and arms.  Her stiletto rested against his calf as she started to gyrate against him.  Her hands moved to his belt, pulling at it and the buttons of his pants, wanting to feel his cock in her hand.  He gripped her arms forcefully and pushed her away.  They both struggled to catch their breath as he held her at arms-length.
"I'd like to have a shower first, luv, if you don't mind," he said breathlessly.  Hmmmm, a shower did sound lovely.  And so far it was lovely even though her skin was now slightly chilled from standing out of the water. His physique was magnificent and she was giddy from the prospect of what was still to come as she looked over his incredible body.  Her eyes lingered on his groin before moving back to the sexually perverse beasts on his chest.  Even they would be jealous of the package he carried between his legs.
She closed her eyes to the graphic, horrific, yet somehow beautiful scenes displayed on his skin and breathed in his scent. She could smell the natural musk of his skin, though now it was sweetened further by the fragrance of the shampoo.
He shifted in front of her and she felt his arm as it came over her shoulder.  She instinctively rose onto the tips of my toes as his hand found her lower back and pulled her tight against his wet steaming skin. She was substantially smaller than him, especially now without her heels... his hand nearly spanned the entire width of her back and even though she was standing on my tiptoes, her stomach pressed into his crotch as he held her against him. 
She felt his cock growing against the firmness of her belly and her pussy responded immediately.  She spread her legs to straddle thigh, grinding her now pulsating pussy into his thigh and stroking his ever growing cock with her hip as he bent his head and covered her lips with his own.
She moaned in his mouth as one of his hands found her chest, his fingers squeezing the soft yet firm flesh of her tit, his thumb brushing over her erect nipple while his other hand moved down over her ass, his middle finger sliding between her cheeks.  His fingertip teased the tender, sensitive flesh surrounding her anus before slipping inside.
His touch was expert and he sent shivers of desire up her spine.  She pressed her pelvis harder into his thigh and rocked her hips against him.  The grinding motion proved to slightly soothe the ache building in her pussy, so she continued to slowly grind her pelvis against him.  Her shower puff, dropped and forgotten on the shower floor, her hands on the back of his neck under his hair, pulled his head down more forcefully on her own.  Her mouth, hungry and wet greedily tasted his lips and his tongue as the hot water of the shower flowed over and between them.
His kisses weren’t sweet.  They were hot and biting and had a certain spice to them that left her lips swollen and burning.  She felt a pull from deep in her belly and somehow knew through the fog of ecstasy and pain she was feeling that she wasn’t in control anymore.  She seemed to be existing on a plane made purely of physical sensations…she was lost to all logical thought of self-preservation and surrendered completely to the sensations that were being played across her skin. 
His taking of her was not gentle and though much of it was very painful it was combined with an ecstasy she had never experienced before.  Her body was his…to do with as he pleased.  So hypnotised she was with her own banal desires and his ability to inspire powerful orgasms from her, she gratefully succumbed to his every whim and with great pleasure offered her flesh and blood to his teeth and nails.