As I am typing this (sipping Laphroaig) remembering all the details of the evening and morning may be a bit difficult.  It was intense, it was hot, it was my favorite fantasy images playing out in my mind then becoming delicious reality.  We will start with a little back story…

A month ago my phone vibrates annoyingly with another text message, “Hey Cash, text her!”.  The ‘her’ is a gorgeous woman, one that had caught my attention at a party we attended two weeks prior to this message.  I am no texter, but okay, here we go.  My greeting was met with enthusiasm!  This may be easier than I thought (talking to a woman other than my wife).  Through the exchanges I informed  her that I clearly recalled what she was wearing at the party, down to the socks (she’s hot, remember?).  We were off to a great start.

For the next three weeks many pictures and erotic words were shared.  Then at 1:00am on the day we are to meet she calls out to me in an abrupt way…Why yes of course I want to have sex with this woman, I can’t however convey this through texting due to my nervousness.  I don’t want to build up and flop.  I have never been nervous about much of anything, but I have experienced some performance anxiety during our time in the lifestyle.  Shit, what to do…of course I wanted to talk big, and so I did.

Eighteen hours later Betty and I are sitting in a hotel lobby drinking Gin and Scotch respectively, when my phone vibrates, they’re here.  I proceeded to examine this hot woman at the check in desk and sent her a message…  She was wearing a strapless dress (please God no panties), her posture and body language exacting.  Hair up, pumps on, I couldn’t help but grin.  Her thin frame looked tight and athletic, the color of her hair was just the right amount of dirty.  Her husband was tall, with a large frame (clearly attractive) and I felt very happy for Betty.  We conducted the appropriate and formal introductions, cracked some jokes as I evaluated these two strangers who my wife and I were very intrigued with at this point.  I talked to “Hottie”, I liked him (what a relief).  No, I don’t have to do him, but my other half does.

We’re upstairs, still at a vanilla distance having cocktails, talking and having fun.  Dinner anyone?  No… let me clarify, fuck no I am not hungry for food.  At the restaurant girls in, guys on the outside of the booth directly across from each other.  This is where my night turns from fantasy to reality, or reality to fantasy.  I had all ready announced my intentions for the dinner… as my hand traveled down her thigh, then back up, we kissed softly, it was nice, no it was great!  My fingers reached their destination as my cock began to swell in my pants thinking about all the scenarios that could occur tonight.  Back to the moment: it was going down, I was penetrating this stranger under the dinner table with her husband (did I mention his large frame) sat directly across from me, my wife watching, and the poor waitress, the poor, poor waitress.  In the car back to the hotel I felt the first climax of the night occur.  I can not express to you how hot this was, how hot she was, how exhilarating and freeing this lifestyle is.

Back in the hotel, more cocktails lead to separate rooms, which led to…  the rest is for me, my wife, and the great couple we spent an amazing fifteen hours with (we only slept about two).  I will say that the belt above was used, and I now feel proud, satisfied, bruised, still intrigued, calm… and have never felt this relaxed, ever.

Even though I know he fucked round on me

I miss what he could do to my body

He was an expert conductor

And I was his instrument

He used and abused me for his own benefit

And I miss it

I crave it

God, help me, I want it

He turned my sexuality against me

He has made me aware that I need

Oh … I need so badly

My skin aches from the lack of touch

Touch that was never mine

My swollen labia doesn’t understand

My nipples, tight in anticipation

Don’t know it shall never come again

Mentally I know it is over

I know it never even was

But my body has no clue

It aches in tormented need

It can’t sleep because of frustration

I am trying so hard to put it behind me

But my body is screaming out in a tantrum

Of desire unfulfilled

It would be so easy to be his whore

His convenience

Just a simple exchange of fluids

But I know it will never happen

The betrayal too deep

For recovery and acceptance to occur

A last minute invitation to have a stall at the Birmingham Fetish market, provided me with a fun and interesting days work. I had a prime position near the entrance for my stall, got to dress up in a corset and meet lots of colourful people.

I had many sales and lots of interest and generally alot of amazing feedback for my work. No cameras were allowed in once the doors were open to the public which was a shame , but the diverse costumes or lack of them made it understandable, everyone was protecting their own private world. Many people were in normal everyday clothes but also there were plenty of people dressed up and looking very alternative. This was somewhere where people could indulge in their personal and private fetishes and what a lovely bunch of people they were.

My artwork was erotic and mysterious enough to get a lot of interest and I had a great time. I will be there next month on the 16th of june too.

Quickly, I open the door and shut it behind me.  I let out a breath and notice that it is completely dark.  ”Hello?”  I can sense that this utility closet is bigger than I thought.  I reach out in front of me, and there is no wall yet.  I step forward once, and once again with my arms outstretched.  Finally, I come to a shelf with what I assume is cleaning products on it.  I go to my right, feeling along and starting to feel quite silly.  I come to a wall to the right of the shelf and the corner of the closet.  I follow that wall for a moment.  ”Hello?” I repeat.  The wall then turned a corner into a an alcove.  My eyes started to adjust to the darkness and I realized that the closet was “L” shaped creating a nook in the back of the closet.  I see a small light for only a second and it turned off.  ”Glad you could make it.  I was worried I scared you off” his voice comes from the darkness in front of me.  I stop in my tracks “I, well I just thought” and suddenly his voice is in front of me, closer, warm just above a whisper “you thought, you might like to be bitten.” he over pronounced the word bitten and somehow made the word sound like exactly what it means.  Of course, my brain takes control of my mouth for a moment and tries to defuse the situation.  ”How did you know I wanted–how did you know I was going to follow you?” I ask, finally seeing his shape coming closer to me.  ”Because” he says grabbing my hips and pulling me close to him “every good girl wants to be bad, needs to be bad, and needs to be bitten.”  His lips touched mine briefly, all too briefly.  His warm breath was against my neck, followed by his lips gently touching my jugular vein.  I tilted my head in submission, please, I thought, please just touch me.  I felt his teeth gently drag against my skin, not biting, just teasing.  I let out a frustrated breath.

“You didn’t say you wanted me to yet” he breathed against my neck.

“Say what?” I ask.

“You didn’t say you wanted me to bite you.  I know you want me to, but you need to say it.  Ask me to bite you.”

“Bite me”

“Bite me, what?”

“Bite me, please”  and his teeth gently but firmly closed on my hot and tender skin on the side of my neck.  All the anticipation, the fantasizing, all the sensations felt since that first brush of contact surged in that one bite and felt directly connected to my throbbing pleasure center between my legs.  ”Oh” I breathed.  Just one bite, and I was half way to coming.  I raised my hands to his back and dug into the back of his white shirt.  He bit and sucked gently on my neck.  As I felt it against my neck, I felt it against my clit.  His hands travelled down my hips and around to the cheeks of my ass under my skirt.  He reached under my ass and rubbed his fingers against the crotch of my panties.  ”Oh honey” he breathed against me, bending me backwards a little, “you are so wet, so ready.  But, you know the rules.  Ask me.”  Pressing my lips against his ear I pleaded “Please.  Please touch me.”  His right hand came to the front of my skirt and went under and between my legs.  He pushed aside my panties and explored the delicate folds of me with a single gentle finger.  I could feel his excitement in seeing how wet I was.  I reached down the front of his khaki shorts with my hand and felt the swell of him underneath the fabric.  I felt the shape of it, the hardness and never in my life have I wanted to be speared so badly by a man.  He grunted in satisfaction from my touch.  I stroked him through the fabric, feeling the base first and lightly working to the tip.  At the very tip, I felt the moisture from his precum slick and warm on my fingers.  He grunted louder and sank two fingers inside me.  My body tensed and shuddered.  My breath was heavy and hot against his shoulder.  ”Oh God” I sighed into him.  ”Dave” he said.  In the middle of a shudder I barely formed the word “What?”  He pulled his face back from my neck and kissed me long and deep.  His tongue was sweet with a hint of coffee.  He pushed me against the far wall of the closet and pinned me there kissing me, his hand working over my clitoris.  I reached down again, undoing his shorts and freed his cock.  When he felt his bareness against my palm he sighed against my lips.  My breath became short and I moaned into his mouth.  He pulled his lips from mine and said, “My name is Dave.  Nice to meet you.”  He dropped his hand from my pussy and pulled my panties down to the ground and let me step out of them.  I stood there against the wall slightly writhing against it, desperate for touch, movement, and most of all, Dave.  I expected him to come to me, to take me.  But, he just stood there in the dark, his pants and boxers off and discarded on the floor next to my panties.  ”The rules” he said.  ”Please” I whispered, my own breath warm over my lips.  ”Please, fuck me.”  In an instant He was against me.  I felt his cock rubbing against me, first against my thigh, my stomach, and finally poking at my clit.  He put his hands behind me wrapping his hands under my ass and lifting me against the wall.  The tip of his hardness was barely entering me.  I tried pushing myself off the wall with my back to make him go deeper.  I wanted him in, so deep, balls deep.  He resisted.  ”Ask” he said, his voice strained.  ”I did” I whined.  ”I know,” he said, “I need to hear it again.  Please.  Ask me to fuck you.”  ”Please.  Please!  Please fuck me, Dave.  Fuck me!” I was desperate and needed him.  I needed this perfect stranger to punish me in the sweetest way possible.  He pinned me against the wall with his body and took his hands away for a moment, hooking them under my legs.  I was against the wall, feet off the floor, my knees over the crooks of his elbows.  He filled me.  Slowly.  Agonizingly slow.  When he was in me up to the hilt he stayed there a moment.  I felt so filled up.  I could feel my pussy pulsing around his thickness.  He leaned forward and kissed me, licking my lips as he pulled away.  Then, he pulled out again, slowly.  Slower than his entrance.  Then he plunged himself into me, so deeply.  He started pumping in and out of me, I could feel his cock filling my insides, hitting against the walls of my vagina sending what feels like bass thumps into the rest of my body.  My hands clung to his shoulders, my nails digging into the soft fabric of his shirt and the hardness of his shoulder muscles.  With every thrust he let out a grunt or sigh.  His noises just added to my pleasure.  I loved hearing his throaty grunt in response to the tight wetness of my nether smile.  My body felt panicked as I felt myself growing closer to orgasm.  It was an undeniable need for my body to succumb to this strange pleasure in the darkness of a utility closet.  Now his thrusts were slower, but damn, were they deep.  I started to feel my brain relinquish control of my voice and mouth.  ”Oh, fuck” I said “Oh fuck, oh don’t stop.  Please don’t stop.”  Leaving my left hand on his shoulder, I brought my right hand to my throbbing red clit.  Just to touch it was sharply pleasurable.  I started rubbing it in time with his thrusts.  ”That’s it, baby” Dave said.  I could feel the arc of my pleasure journey closing in on itself.  The wave was cresting.  ”My, my, my, name, name, na-name” I breathed, so close to coming all over that thick cock pumping in and out of me, “is, is, is, is Alex” I said.  This was it, that feeling of tingles becoming a roaring wave crashing onto me.  My toes curled within the heels I was wearing.  ”That’s it, Alex” Dave said, “I’m asking you to come”.  As if that were all I needed to hear, I came so hard.  The wave crashed onto me and hit all over my body.  I whimpered and choked as every thrust was another wake against me.  I shook and for a moment, I feared falling.  However, Dave held me steadily against the wall, as he sucked another moan from my lips.  His thrusts slowed for a moment and then sped up.  I could hear him getting closer with every breath he took.  ”Yes” I breathed into his ear.  ”Yes, come for me, I want you to come for me” I asked.  He let out a pained/pleasured cry as he desperately speared me against the wall.  I wiggled from his grasp, dropping myself to the floor, kneeling.  I grabbed him and wrapped my mouth around his cock.  A panel of tastes invaded my mouth: his sweat, my sweat, my own tangy sweet come, and his need for my tongue.  I sucked the tip of him as I stroked him to the base and back up against my mouth.  He gently rested a hand on the back of my head and I felt his legs stiffen.  His come shot into my mouth and I swallowed gladly.  The slick saltiness drained down my throat as he performed his own shudder.

He followed me out of the utility closet just as a bookseller was going in to grab something from it.  ”Can I help you?” she asked.  Blushing I shook my head and smiled while walking away.  Dave followed me as he called over his shoulder to the bookseller “but thanks for asking!”

Lets get this in order, shall we?

First off, I didn’t think I was going to write a lot last night.  I thought, “Yeah, did five hundred words last night, maybe do the same tonight.”  Right.  So I started writing after I got some information out of my ideas file and put into the current project.  I looked at the layout of the cabin, and started in with a question asked and answered.

I had no real idea about what was going to be in the scene, what was going to happen, and yet, the moment I started writing I didn’t feel as if I was going to need to search for words.  I knew what would happen, and I didn’t need to go into a lot of discussions about the why of being in the cabin–that’s probably left for tonight–but rather I wanted to show the ladies together as a group.  It doesn’t get simpler than that.

So I have the set up, the witty banter, the insinuation that one of the women is into My Little Pony fan porn (we’ll call it “Fifty Shades of Flutershy”), the unsaid feeling that something isn’t right with one of the characters–it’s all there.  It’s getting things set up for the big bangs to come–no pun intended.

I know tonight the words might not come out as easily as they did last night, but it felt good to be creating again.  It’s a silly little story, but so what?  It’s my story, and I feel for my characters.  Maybe you’ll feel them, too, when you read this.

As for the dream–hey, lets spend some time with this madness now . . .

Of late my dreams haven’t been that important.  They’ve been there, but nothing that has stood out, nothing that made me wake up and think, “What the hell was that all about?”  That doesn’t mean I haven’t had my semi-waking moments, but it’s been nothing like the dreams I had last year.

This time, though–let me tell you.  First I was out shopping, and no big deal there.  I was in a modest skirt, sandals, tee shirt, the sort of thing one wears on a warm, sunny day.

That somehow transitioned to ending up in an adult clothing store, and I was trying on this black latex mini dress and boots combo, and the girl who was waiting on me was pretty much drooling as she watched me in the mirror.  She kept calling me “Spider Queen” for no reason that was then apparent–

Then I was back home, and I was with someone I know, and she was having trouble containing herself.  At one point she says, “Take me, Spider Queen,” and before you can say “Metebelis III,” I’ve got six arms and I’m doing some rather strange and kinky things to my friend, who is more or less mumbling “I love you” between moments of ecstasy.

I mean, what the hell?  Me, the latex clad Spider Queen?

Maybe there’s a story in there–

Explicit: This 7,600 word erotica contains edge play, a m/f/m scene, and the consummation of a demonic relationship.

Excerpt:

Chester must have picked out the film. It was foreign and full of sex and gore. They put Sarah between them and patted her, their fingers skimming past her nipples, dipping between her thighs, but not reaching that needy part of her. She tried to touch herself but Chester bound her hands. Now they sat primly in her lap while Gabriel tongued her navel and Chester again ran his glorious nails up and down her skin.

“What do you want, Sarah?” he asked.

“You. Please, stop tormenting me.”

“And Gabriel isn’t tormenting you?” He twisted her nipple.

She knew what he liked though, and what he liked was to be in charge, to be deferred to.

“He’s obeying you. He’s another tool in your hand, like a flail or a rope.”

A slash of pain, fingers inside her aching pussy, and Sarah was coming, black tingles up and down her spine, red dancing behind her closed eyes.

They kissed her then—Gabriel’s mouth warm satin and Chester’s hot and fierce. She thought of how they touched each other, how their tongues met one another in her mouth and she came again on the insistent fingers. A tug at her nipples and the orgasm kept rolling through her, a black earthquake shaking the firmament of the earth.

Chester nestled between her thighs to feed from her and Gabriel stood over her, his leaping cock free and on her lips.

With her hands still bound at the wrist, she fingered Chester’s hard horn—this was heaven. Chester ate her out, nipping and slapping her, and Gabriel stifled her moans, pumping in and out of her mouth.

She wanted Chester to cut her, for that hot sear of pain to send her tumbling again. His hand tightened on her thigh and she moved her grip to his fingers. That strange language tumbling from his lips, sweet and smokey, and he sliced open her thigh.

She cried out and choked on Gabriel. He withdrew, his brown eyes wide with panic, but then his nostrils flared. He saw the blood.

“Cut her again, please,” he asked, his voice low and husky.

Chester looked up from where he’d been feeding, a great bloody grin, and stared at the angel that sat beside her. Finally, he asked, “Where?”

“Her breast, and if I may be bold, I’d like to watch you pierce the other nipple.”

“Would you?” Chester asked, his brow arched. He drew a spiral on one breast, the one that wasn’t pierced, while Gabriel and Sarah shivered. They gasped together as he cut a long gash in her breast, from its outer swelling to the edge of her areola. Chester brought his red stained finger to his mouth. “Taste.” He held a fresh bright drop up to Gabriel, and the angel’s face flushed.

His chocolate eyes closed, and he bent his head to Chester’s petite hand. Sarah thought she was going to explode until Chester reached out and touched her cunt, steadying her.

Gabriel shuddered as his lips closed over Chester’s finger, a hellish sacrament, then he smiled.

Amazon/Smashwords

It’s all about…Pomba Gira Mysticism. Creole Voodoo. The zombie apocalypse.

Fables of the Reconstruction is a bizarre little book where nothing is as it seems. It the story of Pierre von Minzle and his companion, Mary Montague. Pierre is a Belgian pimp living in Victorian London’s notorious Whitechapel District. He possesses a magic powder and claims to be undead. He believes in Pomba Gira mysticisms and follows Creole Voodoo. There is a modern, surprise twist to the book’s ending. Enjoy it now-only on Amazon.com.

Bondage, F/F, M/F/F, and interracial sex scenes. Mature content warning!

http://www.amazon.com/Fables-of-the-Reconstruction-ebook/dp/B009SCXVMK/

Myself: Oh really? What pray tell, do you want now?

I: Oh, I know! I know! She wants cake! Yay!!!

Me: No you idiot, I do not want cake! I wan a hot, young, handsome man to bang the crap out of…for hours!

Myself: *laughs hysterically until she has to gasp for air* Like THAT’S going to happen!

I: Oh shit! You should have NEVER said that to HER!

Me: Oh really? I get told I’m “beautiful,” “sexy,” and  propositioned all the time, but the “good girl” in me….YOU Myself…won’t let me take any of them up on it! But, I’ve decided that your goody two shoes approach to life…sucks! I’m going to go out and take life by it’s young, firm balls… literally!

Myself: Okay, wait just a minute…listen to yourself…you are entirely too old to be thinking like this! You have morals and integrity! You can’t do this and I won’t let you…you need to stop acting like a spoiled brat and act like the woman you are and not a common whore!

I: OH SNAP! I can’t believe you said THAT to HER! *covers her ears*

Me: Common whore? There’s nothing common about me…you just wait, watch and see what happens!