Wicked Wednesday: The Park Bench

We had reservations for dinner and a movie but the only thing that looked good enough to eat or watch was you. I was to pick you up at work to catch our 6:30 reservations at Sky. Well, I’d pick you up as intended but there would be a slight alteration in the evening’s  plans. I took my time getting ready – not that I had that much to wear. Picking out clothes was not going to be taking any time at all this evening. I took a long, hot shower and shaved it all – smooth as silk and naked as as the day I was born. I love to run my fingers over my bare lips – full and ripe with the promise of events to come. Mmmmmm…to come…I smiled at myself as I meticulously applied my makeup. Big smoky eyes and full pale lips. I stood naked in front of the mirror and realized I’d forgotten something. No birthday suit would be complete without boots. I found them under the bed. Soft black italian leather, skin tight, knee high. I zipped them up the sides and went for my car coat, the scarf gifted from the neighbor upon her return from India and black leather gloves. A final check in the mirror and I was ready to go.

A chill breeze caught me by surprise as I locked the front door and turned for the car. Although my coat came down to mid-thigh, there was nothing else to protect me from the elements and again I grinned at the sheer audacity of leaving my provincial little neighborhood in nothing but a coat and boots. I prayed I wouldn’t have a flat tire or run out of gas on the way.

You came out to meet me and I stepped out and threw you the keys, letting you drive. I didn’t say a word. Just slipped into the passenger seat, leaned into you and kissed you hello. You pulled out of the parking lot and I turned in my seat and threw one booted leg over the console and propped the other against the parking brake. You throw me a look of shock, knowing that I never go without a seat belt and then do a comical double take when you realize that my coat has opened to reveal pale white thighs disappearing into moist, swollen flesh – bare and ready to be touched. Which I do.

You slam on the brakes, narrowly avoiding what could be a potentially embarrassing rear ender as we come to a stop light. “Are you going to dinner like that?” Mmmmm…dinner yes, but not exactly what you had in mind. “I want to go to the park. Take me to the park.” Your eyes flash and a slick smile spread slowly across your face. You had once mentioned your fantasy of fucking me on a park bench and it has dawned on you that I might have just planned out your ultimate birthday present.

Early spring and the light is just starting to fade at this hour. There are a lot of people taking their evening walks around the park’s many paths and hiking trails. We park in a fairly secluded spot and you turn to me. Your eyes riveted on my fingers as they slip in and out, around my rock hard clit and back in again. I lift my fingers to my mouth and take a taste before offering them to you. You suck greedily and reach for me but I hold you at bay. I grab my bag at my feet and, adjusting my coat, I get out of the car and start walking up the hill. You have no choice but to follow me, no desire to do anything but.

Darkness begins to fall and I pull you to a nearby bench – just off the main pathway but tucked into a small wooded area. Offering little privacy but the walkers and runners are getting few and far between and all mothers pushing strollers have taken their charges home for dinner, baths and bed. I push you down lightly and then straddle your lap. Taking your face in my hands, I kiss you lightly, playfully and then deeper and full of intention. Our breathing quickens, your jeans are wet now that I am riding your thigh as I grind against you involuntarily. “wait”  I whisper, “I want something.” I reach into my bag and pull out a small bottle of lube. You look at me questioningly and then knowingly. I pour it into the palm of your hand and lead your hand between my legs. I know I’m wet enough for most things but for this I need a little extra help and you start by sliding two, no three, fingers inside me.  Curling them towards you and I gasp with a rushing intake of breath. You fuck me slowly, my coat covering both of us – two lovers getting carried away in the gloaming on a cool spring night. Now you have four fingers inside me and I breathe deeply and methodically. Willing myself to open up to  you. Your thumb slips in and your hand curls into itself as you disappear inside me. I look down and see the bones of your wrist up against me and sigh deeply as you fill me up.

Now I can let myself go. It is dark and we are alone. I can’t control my deep throated moans as you fuck me harder. You reach around and put one finger in my ass and I am full to the hilt. Riding you, frantic, exposed and completely there for you. My orgasm comes in white hot waves and I throw my head back and you bury your face in my neck as I hold you tightly while my body thrusts against you of its own accord. I feel as though I’m exploding from the inside out and I don’t want to stop until you laugh and whisper that you think I might have broken a few fingers in there. I am reluctant to let you go but I know you must be aching to come. Yet when I ask what’s next you say, “we’re going to dinner, of course”.

And so I sit in a banquette at Sky, eating steak frittes in my coat and boots. Silently cursing the ruination of the silk lining every time I watch your hand move from plate to mouth. At least I’ve been given some time to plan my next move. Payback, in this case, will be rich indeed.



TMI Tuesday: Statistically Speaking

1) What are three mistakes someone could make on the first date with you that would automatically make you turn down a second date with them?

  1. You drink too much. If you tell me you are a “social drinker,” then you’d better mean one or two glasses of wine once or twice a week. Social drinking doesn’t mean you get more outgoing when you are playing beer pong.
  2. You are TOO nice. I need an edge. I can’t get myself UP for someone who is bland.
  3. You’re shy. I have a big personality, you’d better be able to handle it and not fade into the wallpaper when I’m around.

2) Pick an animal that best displays your personality. 🙂

It sounds truly cliché but I AM a cat. Not one of those pampered, persian things…more like a short-haired, slightly feral sleek thing that swishes her tail around, pounces upon mice with a vengeance, and loves to take long naps!

3) If your S/O stopped having sex with you, how long would you stay?

I stayed an additional SEVEN years. ME!!! Can you imagine? Yep. Now? If I don’t get it once a week at least (and you know I’d rather once a day) then you can just pack your things and get to steppin’.

4) Are you more passive or aggressive when the relationship becomes physical?

I used to be a serious femme top, now I am an aggressive bottom. I’ll take it, but I like to take it on my terms and I’m not shy about directing the action.

5) Have you ever been INSIDE a store that sold adult themed toys and videos?
Many, many times. I like to embarrass my friends by flicking the heads on the dildos and taste-testing the flavored lube.

Bonus (as in optional): What percentage of women do you think are capable of handling being in a “friends with benefits” relationship?

I know an awful lot of women who are in FWB relationships and do just fine. I do, think, however that they secretly yearn for more. I’ll say 40%.

How about men?

Let’s go at least 60% on that one. Most men I know would rather have their space and eat it too.


MFM: Fear

With Halloween lurking just around the corner, our dear Sweltering Celt, has assigned us this week’s theme of Fear. I must admit that the word brought forth an immediate and visceral response from me. I think writing this took all of 20 minutes.


I can feel the pressure of her knee, heavy, in the small of my back. I can smell the rancid odor of tequila emanating from her mouth as she slurs filthy, angry words into my right ear. I can see the detritus of her power trip lying about the room. Every possible object that could penetrate, tried and cast aside. I can hear her cruel laughter as I struggle to breathe when she puts her sweaty hand around my throat again, pulling my head back toward her. I can sense the rivulet of blood making its way from between my thighs to pool underneath me, a permanent stain on the mattress to remind me of my poor choice of partners.

I hear the glass shatter. I smell the bitter Merlot within. I see, with utter terror, the jagged edges of the bottle as she waves it in front of my face. I sense her movement, her shift in weight, pushing me harder into the bed. I feel the cold of the bottle pressed against my inner leg just before

I wake up. My clothes are drenched. My sheets tangled. I am disoriented. I need to get my bearings. And realize that I am alone. This is not the same apartment. This is not the same bed. This is not the same me. My breathing becomes less labored. My heart begins to slow its racing beat. It won’t happen…again.

I have nothing left to fear.


HNT: Chill

As we near the end of October, here in New England there is a decided chill in the air. Seems the perfect time to start breaking out the (faux) fur…don’t you think? This one, however, is shedding…







Be sure to head to Osbasso’s to see more HNT goodness!


Wicked Wednesday: I do as I’m told

It’s nearing midnight but you want to leave already. I could dance till the club closes but you obviously have other things on your mind. I grab my motorcycle jacket from behind the bar, blow kisses to the bartender, and race out the door as fast as my spike heel boots will carry me. You are leaning against the wall outside the door. Your arms crossed, impatient. I think for a minute that I’ve pissed you off somehow but then I catch a familiar glint in your eye and know you are up to something.

Indeed. You grab my hand and pull me into the alley between the club and the restaurant next door. I go to kiss you but you spin me around and before I even know what’s happening you’ve got one hand under my tank pinching my already rock hard nipple and the other is up my skirt and into my panties – the black lace that you requested. I’m already wet from the heat of our dancing and it takes no effort on your part to slide your fingers inside me. I try to reach back for you but you take your hand off my breast and pin my arms against the wall. My face is pressed up against the rough brick and I realize we’re barely in the shadows and with the club still open, women are passing by on their way to their cars. I don’t care. I don’t dare care.

I’m trying to stifle my moans and you are whispering in my ear “do you want me to fuck you? Fuck you here? Fuck you now?” yes. yes, please. yes. yes please. I lay my forehead against the brick and put my palms flat against the wall. My back arching involuntarily as you pull my skirt up around my waist and rip the black lace from around my hips, dropping them to the gravel beneath our feet. Our breath coming in white clouds although I don’t feel the cold wintery air. All I feel is you yanking at your belt buckle, hearing your zipper. My breath stopping momentarily as you enter me without hesitation. There is no fumbling. You know right where to go and you go hard and fast. One hand on my hip and the other tangles in my hair and yanks my head back towards your mouth. “Do you like it?” yes. oh yes. “more?” yes. oh yes. “what if we get caught?” you growl. I moan. I don’t care. I don’t care. Please don’t stop.

You push my legs far apart and I grab for a crate in front of me. You brace yourself with one hand on the wall and hit it. deep. hard. fast. I can’t hold it in any more. I can’t stop—I’m grinding my ass into you as you fuck me to the hilt. Now my legs shudder and my knees go weak. You put your hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming out loud and I feel you bucking one last time before you collapse over me with a low gutteral moan.

I start to get myself organized—thinking that, post-quickie, we’d be going home now. You grab my hand as I start to turn away “not so fast.” Your voice is rough and full of sex. I turn back and you push me down to my knees, the grit pressing painfully into my bare skin. Ah. Uh huh. I know what you want. You have one hand on your cock and pull my head toward you. I take you into my mouth and suck you hard down my throat. “That’s my girl, clean it off for Daddy.” Ohhhh…those words just hit me in the clit. I move from the head down the shaft and back again, licking every bit of my cum off your dick. When you push your cock between my lips again I feel your hands in my hair and you can’t help but move, driving into my eager mouth. I look up at you and see you watching me, your eyes half-lidded and glazed over. I notice your nipples erect against your t-shirt. I reach up to grab your breast but you are over the edge now. One final thrust and my gag reflex kicks in, which makes you cum that much harder.

You pull me back to my feet and kiss me deeply. I whimper and tangle my hands in your hair, trying to get closer and closer to you. Eventually we part, get ourselves together, and you steer me toward the car. The promise of a long night ahead lingering in the winter air.


TMI Tuesday: Love me all night, and through the day…

1. Which ONE do you wish you had more of in bed… romance, experimentation or foreplay?
I need romance. Truly. I’ve got the sex thing and there’s been more than enough experimentation and foreplay. I need someone to sweep me off my feet rather than just assuming that I’m groveling at theirs.

2. What is your worst habit?
Procrastination. Just the fact that I get up before the birds to begin work and start my day off on this site should tell you that much!

3. Do you take compliments well?
I do say thank you now and I try to be graceful about it, but inside you’ll hear me shouting “what are you nuts? Do you really know me? Do you need glasses? WTF?”

4. Do you think more about the past, present or future?
I can’t help but think about the future. I’m almost 45 years old (like, seriously…in about a month!) and single again and no, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone, thank you.

5. Do you feel everyone has a soulmate?
I used to think so. I wish that were the case. Now, not so sure…I have had a lot of truly fucked up relationships…looking to find “the one.” It would be nice to think that there is someone out there that is so extremely compatible for me that I could consider them my soulmate, but I don’t think I’ll ever truly find that. Intense love? Yes.

Bonus (as in optional): “Where Would You Wish To Wake Up?”
In bed, together, every morning.


Blue-Eyed Vixen would like to remind us that TFT is up! Go check it out. The site is always looking for contributors. If you’ve thought about wanting to do it—there is no time like the present! If you have before but it’s been awhile- we miss you! All you have to do to help support our troops is EMAIL HER! Help boost some morale!

MFM: Contest

Well, it seems there is no end to the number of bloggers’ anniversaries these days. In honor of her own, our dear Sweltering Celt has assigned us this week’s theme of Contest.

I am tormented. He insists on bringing me to the absolute brink and then pulling me back from the abyss of ecstasy. Oh, the sweet frustration as he buries his face in my cunt. Hungry. Greedy. Expertly covering every possible inch of my bare pussy with his tongue until I am left utterly wanting of release.

Finally, gratefully, he reaches inside me with two, three fingers. Curling them upward, he knows exactly where that spot is that immediately brings forth a stream of unbearable satisfaction. The mattress, the floor, his arm up to the elbow, are soaked and dripping. He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. This orgasm never lasts just seconds—it seems to stretch for an eternity as he pushes me over and over again until I, bucking and arching, writhing and dizzy from breathlessness, beg him to stop. I am soon laughing with something close to hysteria. My entire body trembling beyond my control.

He smiles and stands up. I cannot move. Immobile. Entirely spent. Just stick a fork in me, I’m done. He looks down on me with a sly grin on his handsome face. “Huh,” he says, “just wait until she gets back. You are going to be having the best sex of your life as we try to outdo each other.” Just wait, I think, just wait.