Showing posts with label lesbian. Show all posts

FFF - Feb 1 - Hazy

Word Limit = 300 words
Key Phrase = hazy
Extra Credit = Figure out who's taking the picture, or, tell us where the husband is.

It was obvious that she was the master of the house. Her casual sensuality gave her an air of power as she walked among her guests. Occasionally she would stop and whisper in their ear, her hand drifting over body parts most intimate, some of them covered, some bared for her approving touch. If she found someone special, she would kiss them pull them tight, and allow herself to be touched. She was always in control as she wandered here and there, watching other couples play as her stocking clad consort followed behind.

When she thought of something particularly amusing she would reach back for her consort’s hand. She’d pull her close and whisper in her ear and both women would giggle and share a kiss. When the mood struck, her hand would caress her attendant’s breast and she would kneel and slip under the soft red dress. A look of hazy pleasure would come over her face and everyone in the club would stop and watch.

Her feet slid across the oak floor giving access to her younger lover’s tongue. Businessmen who traded millions each day watched in awe. Women who demanded the highest price boiled with jealousy. Her climax approached and the room grew quiet. Muscles clenched and lifted her en pointe and she held her lover’s head in place under the red fabric. She denied us all the view but told the story with her sounds and expressions. A story of pleasure, mastery, and perfect confidence in letting the world watch.

Afterwards, her consort lit her cigarette and sat patiently at her side as she addressed the men on the couch.

“What can I do for you Mayor?” She said with a sly smile, “and remember, this is all on camera.”

My camera clicked, my wife smiled.

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I had the office to myself today so I slipped on my headphones, called up Pandora, and put it on my “Pink Floyd” station. What followed was a fantastic mix of 70s rock including the Rolling Stones, the Eagles, the animals, and every song gave me a new idea for the story. I settled on an image from “Paint it Black.” I like the idea of passing through a door into a world that has fundamentally different rules, where society’s limits are gone, no matter how scary it is on the other side.

I almost went with Hotel California, and I still might spin one more story out before bed, but now I have to go to the library to get books for my daughter, and yes, her book check is Monday.

A birthday story (Part One)

“I don't know what to say,” she fiddled with the end of the heavy fork, tapping lightly on this intricately patterned china. She folded her arms across her chest, unfolded them, looked out the window, looked back at him, brought them to the table, clasped her fingers together and shrugged her shoulders.

“Then don't say anything.” He said just sit there. He looked at her, knowing that it made her uncomfortable. He sat upright in his chair his suit jacket hung on his shoulders as if the designer had him in mind when it was made. It was actually off the rack, but under the hands of a good tailor he was as comfortable in this suit as he was in shorts and a T-shirt. He stared at her. She had beautiful eyes, luscious hair and soft skin.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked.

"I'm trying to decide what to do with you." He let his eyes trace her face. Well manicured eyebrows, expert makeup, appropriate for her age and a cute, quick smile, a her beautiful neckline led into a full cleavage that he had fantasized about for many weeks.

"I we going to order dessert or not?” She tried, but failed to hide a smile at the innuendo.

With a subtle gesture, the waiter was called over and she came scurrying. He pulled the Mont Blanc pen out of his pocket, signed quickly, added a generous tip, and stood. He extended his hand and she came to her feet feeling the intensity of his stare and feeling a little unsteady on the shoes that he had purchased for her.

"You look lovely tonight. I hope you appreciated my taste."

"Everything is beautiful, and it fit perfectly.”

She took his hand and felt his warmth. His hands were dry, confident, strong, not at all like her husbands, and she wondered what they would feel like pinning her wrists above her head. She imagined what he would feel like on top of her, inside her, controlling her gently. He took her by the arms and escorted her to the front or the restaurant where the maître d' shook his hand, wish them a good night and said goodbye to him by name.

“Andrew is an excellent manager,+ he said, “he's done wonders with this place.”

“It is a lovely spot.” She said “I just wish they had a wider selection of organics and seafood.”

"We'll have to see what we can do for next time."

She smiled at phrase ‘next time’ but wondered what he could do about the menu. Maybe he had done something with his money after all.

They left the restaurant and walked across the busy parking lot to the small, but exclusive stores set back in a grove of disconcertingly real plastic trees.

They window shopped for a few moments, making small talk about the expensive watches, the overpriced jewelry, and wondered aloud how anyone could spend $200 for a pair of jeans that were indistinguishable from the finest that Walmart had to offer.

“People don't understand value" he said as his hand slipped down her back across her waist line only to end up caressing her buttocks. "They have to know what they want, and what they are looking for."

She was shocked that he would be so bold after being the perfect gentlemen over dinner, but she enjoyed the attention. Her husband never gave her the time of day, and though they loved each other and despite the fact that she was still sexually attracted to him, it was not enough and she thrived on the new friends she had made. They stopped gazing at overpriced clothing for young people and turned the corner. A lingerie shop, small and intimate had a warm glow from candles places in the window.

“Are those real candles?” she asked, surprised to see open flame in a darkened window.

As she gazed at the dancing flames, a young raven haired beauty came to the door and unlocked it. Opening it slightly she looked at them.

"Mr. Anders?

He nodded, she nodded, and she pushed the glass door wide and let them in. "Welcome to La Perla, I hope you enjoy your shopping."

The store was dark but as they wandered through, their young host moved through the store with grace and added just enough light for them to see the beautiful merchandise. An adorable little redhead came out from the back room with some fresh brewed coffee and some biscuits and set them down on the table. ""Are we ready to begin?"

As she poured the coffee for the two guests she introduced herself, "my name is Delray," and yes, there is a story behind it but we will tell that another day."

She gestured toward the other girl who was busy adjusting merchandise on the on a shelf. "Her name is Lana, she is your fitting expert. I trust her with everything I wear, you can do the same."

It was obvious when Delray turned around that all of her clothes fit perfectly. Dana was staring at the younger girls, unsure as to what would happen next, she suspected that this was his reward for taking her out. But when he looked over at him he had not even noticed the younger girls and their beach-fresh beauty. He was looking only at her. She immediately felt her body respond, and she gasped.

"How would you like to do this Mr. Anders?"

Lana stepped over and checked her lipstick in the large mirror. She admired herself in the large mirror, smoothed her blouse, and turned to address “We can find things for you to try on, we can model them for you, or we can do a combination of both." She took Dana by the hand and helped her to her feet. “Let's move you to the place of honor.” And she was taken to a small semicircular room just a few feet off the sales floor,

"I'll break the ice," Lana said., She unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it onto the bench before anyone could protest. There is no doubt that she was beautiful,. “I am wearing the chrysanthemum line from the spring show 1988, a classic and still one of our best selling bras."

Her fingertips traced the edge of the silk across her full, but not oversized breasts. Dana ’s eyes were drawn to her fingernail as they traced against the flesh and then the silk that barely contained her breasts.” We have re-created the chrysanthemum line for this year with all new fabrics.” Now both hands cupper her curves and she caressed her breasts with love.

She took Dana ’s hand and put on her breast, right on the material that held her "It's okay,” she whispered for all to hear, I want you to feel how nice it is."

Dana had barely caught her breath when Lana backed up allowing DelRay to step forward similarly undressed from the waist up. Her bra was sheer black and more subtle on her smaller frame. Dana’s eyes were drawn to the perfectly pink nipples at the center of the cup.

"It's okay to touch them. I want you to know what Mr. Anders is looking for."

Dana blushed deeply as the younger girl spoke so boldly, so knowingly about what planned for her. She turned to look for him was, trying to find comfort in unfamiliar territory, he was gone. She stood alone with two beautiful half naked women who wanted her to try on lingerie for him to remove. They were so brazen, so knowing, that she felt lost, aroused, and fell completely under their control.

Pain and Pleasure

This is one of those topics where, if I tell the truth, the vanilla truth, some of my friends will go, “WTF? That’s not how you talk to me…”

So, with TMI I try to tell the truth, but only when it’s sexy or funny. Also, you’ll notice that the questions talk about what I like, not what I do. There is, when others are involved, a vast difference.

1. Which do you enjoy more in bed, pain or pleasure?

Silly question since pain leads to pleasure, so the answer is “Yes”. The phrase I use more often than I want to is, “You don’t have to be so gentle.” “BITE” “PINCH” “HARDER. Come on woman, I’m 5’10” and 200 pounds, I’m not going to break. Let me have it!

2. Do you like being tickled during sex? Where?

I don’t mind being tickled, but what’s the point if I’m not tied to something when it happens. And we all know that’s not going to happen.

3. Have you ever used feathers during sex?

Last week, my friend WORD shared the following joke:

Sexy is using a feather.
Kinky is using the whole chicken.

Because tickling isn’t really my thing, I’ll have to answer “No.”

4. Do you like to be blindfolded during sex? Why?

OH FUCK YES! The old cliché that when you cut off one of the sense the other’s get more involved is totally true. This is also why I like fucking in total darkness. Shades drawn, door closed, nightlights unplugged, phones off, everything off. Everything becomes alien, unknown, there are no cues as to what’s going on, everything must be stated, asked for. It’s a wonderful feeling.

5. Have you ever used cold or heat as part of your sex play? What provided the cold or heat?

I’m hot for her, she’s cold for me. Does that count?

We/I love the summer heat for sex outside, source, the sun.

And she hates being cold, so we don’t have sex during the winter or in months that have more than 3 Tuesdays.

6. Do you enjoy being spanked, giving spankings, or both?

Smack my cock around and grab my nutsack and I’m a happy guy. Just show me that you like playing with them. I’ll be the spanker, but I’ve never seen the attraction in bruises and pain.

7. Do you have a safeword? Have you ever used it?

The ultimate safeword that stops all sexual activity is “Well, the kids are in bed, what’s on TV?” We also would have accepted “I do” or “Hello Honey, I’m home.” The bonus answer is, “Who was that slut on your computer monitor?” All of these earn full points and sympathy from the judges.

I did have a safe word with a GF in college though we didn’t call it that. After starting and stopping a serious dry-humping/makeout/mutualmastrubationeverythingbutpenetration session, she stopped me and said, “Listen, if I want you to stop, I’ll tell you.”

She never did.

Bonus: Tell us in 3-4 sentences the most painful or pleasurable sexual experience you have had.

This is an easy one. Fall 87 (lesbian girl), or I could go with Spring of 82 (Karen), same story, different girls, more pain, less panic in 87.

Fall of 87, just back from a semester on the East Coast for school. Ex-roommate calls for a night of bar-hopping, but we only hop one when we run in to an all-girls birthday party that was in its 4^th day. She was a knock-out and pretty and pretty drunk, kind of. I was the designated driver (hence the phone call and invitation) and I had been drinking gallons of ice water, free soda, and seltzer. I was peeing every 15 minutes and it was coming out cold. She was all over me, the good boy, the driver. We make out, feel each other up, play tonsil-hockey, I get a hand inside her shirt and then down her pants, and I think she might have cum once while we were dancing. Skip forward an hour or two as we are all saying good-bye. I get my sloshed friends into his car (you should only throw-up in your own car) and she’s leaning against my chest stroking my 4-hour erection through my jeans. I should have just let myself go right there, but I didn’t, and I said good night.

I drop off Glen (tangent friend) and then Scott (Better friend and school chum), and then Jeff, (roommate, confidant, ass wipe, lech, user, but I’m not bitter anymore.)

I drop off Jeff switch back to my own car, and WHAM! It hitsme. The absolute worst case of blue balls of all time. I’m driving and have to pull over. Not only do I have to pee out the last gallon of free designated driver drinks, but my nuts are so engorged and painful that the very thought of orgasm makes me wince. There was no comfortable position in which to sit. I stayed hard and every rub of fabric on my cock was like a flame thrower to the skin. I pulled over, threw-up a little, and prayed to God to let me pee. Nothing. Funny Joke God, very funny. I should have let her stroke me off in the parking lot, but no, I was being good, and now I’m being put through hell. I found a drug store, bought a $12 bottle of Extra-Strength You Know This Is Going To Hurt medicine and another dreaded soda, and I swallowed them down.

An idea comes in to my head and I pull the beach blanket from my trunk and put it underneath me on the driver’s seat. This is in my car now. This was no time for pride, I was minutes away from some sort of physiological Nagasaki and steps had to be taken. I roll down the window and let out a scream and power-gulp the remaining drink until my body rebels and let’s loose. If I drank 2 gallons that night I peed out three right there while driving along Crestline Lane just south of the Circle K by Jeff’s house. Never before, in the history of peeing has a moment so embarrassing been so welcome. And thank the heavens for washable slacks and picnic blankets from Mexico.

As an end-note, I was still sore the next day when we met at the park for a picnic. As she lay out in her bikini on the grass and I sat next to her in my shirt and tie from the office, she told me that she was really drunk and that she was really a lesbian, and that the woman yelling at us from the porch of the club was her Girlfriend. Yeah, I’d say it was painful.

The other story, and I’ll make it shorter, was at a church youth retreat. Karen and I ditched the final “Witness meeting” and made out in the quaking aspens. Ohh, she was so beautiful, the perfect high school blond. Anyway, 2 hours of heavy petting later I go to the college dorms doubled over in pain. My roommate is about to call Emergency for appendicitis when an older friend walks in and asks me what I was doing during Witnessing. He was cool so I told him, and he burst out laughing. You don’t have appendicitis, you have blue balls. What an idiot!” he said on his way out. I had to agree.

Is that TMI enough? and, did I go over the limit on the bonus question?
I kind of lost count.

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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblogfrom your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

FFF - Feeling or causing despair

Are you kidding me? Again?

160
Hopeless

He slammed down the phone and threw his anger management squeeze ball across the room. In horror he saw it clip his AVN award, sending it to the ground with a crash of glass on oak flooring.

“Shit.”

Monica rushed into the room with wide eyes and a worried expression. She had arranged for the anger management class on order from corporate and feared the investment had been wasted.

What’s wrong boss?

He looked up. Her adrenalin was running high and it made her cheeks flush and her eye’s glistened like a gazelle who just heard the cheetah’s growl.

Anderson’s hopeless. He’s hung over and he’s out of Viagra so he bailed out on today’s shoot and Angie’s already on set next door. We have to cancel.

He looked up as her jacket, blouse, and then silken bra hit the floor.

We don’t have to cancel anything, Angie and I have been rehearsing for weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She couldn’t breathe, think, move.

“What’s wrong?” Even her voice was perfect, alien, out of context, dizzying.

“I’m…” her voice caught, and her legs shook under her long skirt. Three quick in-gasps and she was hyperventilating and the room swirled. She saw her leaping towards her and then it was black.

She came to and felt the comforter over her shoulders. Embarrassed, she looked around the room and saw her new friend sleeping on the divan near the window. She cleared her throat, Melisa awoke.

“Some first date, eh?” she wiped away a surprise tear, then another, “I was hoping for so much more, I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

Melisa slid to the floor and approached on hands and knees, discarding her robe. Her warm hands slid under the covers and around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the bed and into an embrace. With a simple kiss, she whispered, “There is always hope.”

And she was right.

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Two takes on a beautiful picture. Thanks to Pasnserbjorne (or is it "The Panserbjorn"? Is it a name or title?) for putting things together. It's good to get back to writing on a budget. Both ended up at 160 words exactly, but #2 started off at just under 200 words. I forget how verbose I get when I'm not on a literary leash.

I hope you take time to go to those who found time to write. Give them some love.

And, if you are LA today, drop by the library, I'll be there until 3 doing homework.

:-)

an assignment for a friend

The assignment was simple, she was to look around her office, daydream a little, and write a fantasy about another woman in the office. She then read it for me in her beautiful voice. It was wonderful...

Me + the office + woman

The office is open plan and shared by six people - three men and three women. I am in one corner - you have previously seen a view of my desk. The only personal adornment that I have is a calendar I was sent by a printing company which has my name on each page - this month is has my name written in sand. At the end of the year I intend to frame these small images and hang them in my room at home. Otherwise, in the office, I am totally business like.

My colleague H whose desk abuts mine is a bubbly, fun woman. A bit dizzy for my liking, but pretty, dark haired and with great breasts. I know she has an interest in an experience with a woman, but I am not her type - in her fantasy the woman is a tall, skinny, large breasted blond wearing lingerie and a face full of make-up. I only score on one of those counts

Everyone else had left the office for the day but we were still working away on some paperwork that needed to be filed on line that night - she was working on the financial stuff and me on my bits. From time to time we looked up and talked, she suggested a break so we walked to the kitchen to make ourselves a drink. The conversation turned to our shared but different fantasies of an encounter with another woman. Leaning against the kitchen units our hands touched, a bolt of electricity passed between us. At that moment I knew, we knew, that whilst our visions of the woman might be different from the woman who was there at that moment that this would be the day we would feel the hand of another woman on our bodies.

We turned and reached for each other and a gentle, tentative kiss followed. Soft lips, a soft feminine mouth which was so different from the kiss of a man. No less passionate but very different. My hand fell to her breast stroking over her white t shirt. I could feel her aroused nipple beneath the material. I wanted to touch her skin, taste her; slowly and waiting for her to stop me if she was uncomfortable, I slid my hand under her shirt and over the lace of her bra. My fingers curling back the lace to reveal her dark and firm nipple. Taller than me my head barely needs to drop to take that nipple into my mouth. I sucked and licked hard and she groaned in pleasure. Encouraged I used my free hand to tease and play with her other nipple. Both were hard and as I glanced upward I could see that whatever I was doing was working for her.

Taking her lead from me her hands grab at my breasts and she rapidly undid the buttons of my shirt revealing the lace of my bra without waiting she slipped her hands round my back and undid my bra allowing it to fall from me exposing my breasts for her attention. I stopped suckling her and allowed her to return the favour. Her mouth felt so good, my nipples hard in her mouth, shivers of pleasure rippling through me.

We decided the kitchen was too cold and too small and made our way back up to the main office. Almost running up the stairs and giggling at what we were doing we made it to the main office, almost immediately we started to divest ourselves of our clothes. Naked we laid on the floor, her legs parted as she lay I traced a line down her body from her neck, around her breasts over her belly, through the thin covering of pubic hair and finally parting her full lips. She was wet, aroused more than I anticipated. I raised a finger to my mouth and tasted her. Her eyes shut in pleasure. I lower my head and run my tongue up and down between her lips, the moisture increased. As I lapped at her I could sense that, amazingly to me, she was close to orgasm.

Spurred on, I licked, lapped, nibbled and sucked. Her body tensed, backed arched a low almost whine from her mouth as she gave in to the moment. Her pulsing cunt filled my mouth with her cum, it was almost like swallowing a man such was the quantity of her juice. Kneeling back my wet face glistening, I smiled at her. Her eyes were sparkling as she caught her breath, sitting she caught my face in both hands and pulled me to her kissing me long and deep, tasting herself on me. "My turn/your turn" she whispered and lay back. I shuffled along on my knees until my clit was lined up perfectly with her mouth. She licked like an expert, like she had done this a million times before. I was turned on already but within just a few probes with her tongue I was ready to cum. A tightening in my throat as I tried to tell her but it was too late and a guttural sound came as I came. I struggled to maintain my balance as wave after wave of sensation started in my cunt and spread to all extremities.

99 words
curl of.......

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Is the call still going in there?

Yea, I guess, she blew smoke into the heavy air,
I still hear voices

Resting her elbows on the table she felt

uncomfortable in her unused nakedness,
“What’s taking so them so long?”

I don’t know darlin’,
more smoke filled the room.

Can I get dressed? Her fingers absently-
mindedly ran through the short curl
of hair between her thighs.

Better not, we need to be ready.

Ready for auditors?

You’d be surprised sweetie, you had better be ready….

The muffled tones behind the door stopped.

You’d better be ready….

Do you want to talk about it?

No.

I don’t want you….

Stop! I said I don’t want to talk about it.

They sat quietly

The noise of the city accentuated the silence of the room.

She hung her head, still aroused, still hungry, she felt the curl of silk press her needy lips.

I’ve never… tears formed, ran, and freckled the old table.

But you are with me, it’s OK.

What if my boyfriend finds out?

It won’t happen again

How do you know? Fear filled her voice.

Don’t feel bad, it was cute, everyone farts during sex…

She inhaled deeply. She wanted to quit, but each drag filled her with fire and quelled the cravings and she knew she never would. The sun baked their room and the open windows did nothing in the stagnant summer. The party music sent pulsing need into her sensitized lips. She looked at the girl, fixating on the curl of faint scar tissue around her nipples, jealous of her youth.

Are you ready to go back in?

Yea, boys for you, girls for me this time?

Yes, she felt the cravings and wanted the fire.

Another thing she’d never quit.

This picture, found on a tumblr, unfortunately forgotten, struck me immediately with so many possibilities. Where they waiting? Were they done? Angry? Sad, in love, breaking up? How many times have we all sat at that table, one party aloof, distant, waiting for the sad one to speak, to plead their case to make an apology, to beg forgiveness, or express regret.

Their state of undress both limits and expands the creative possibilities? Or maybe it’s the apparent difference in age and implied experience. Are they a couple, or rivals, or just working girls on a break? My original ending for #3 had them walking in to the party hand-in-hand with the tagline, “Thanks Mom, I really need the money,” or something like that, but I couldn’t get it set-up right without it sounding tacked on, too much of a surprise ending, to I let it stay on the darker side.

Above all else, to me, this is a quiet picture, stifling heat, glaring sun, no ice water in sight; this is oppressive in mood and moment.

If you care about specific “inspirations”

#1 – Written during my morning conference call with, you guessed it, the auditors. Buttoned down by day, horny and old by night.

#2 – What are we ashamed of? Our first lesbian encounter, her first john? What was it? Well, I couldn’t let it be too serious.

#3 – Addictions, we all have them, so this is hers. Past her prime, helping out the new girl, both tired, but needing something. We all crave the fire, don’t we?

Thanks to Panser for using my idea, that’s always fun, and thank, as always, for his efforts in brining us all together. Now go check out everyone else, and next week, I want to see YOUR name on the list.

Advizor

oncall sex for life

FFF - Feb 1 - Hazy

A birthday story (Part One)

TMI - P&P, or We always hurt the ones we love.

Pain and Pleasure

FFF - Feeling or causing despair

an assignment for a friend

FFF - 2 women