Wicked Wednesday: Women’s Week

I’m dashing up Commercial Street in the pouring rain. A chill April thunderstorm soaks my previously meticulous hair and makeup and I’m cursing the whole way. It’s hard to dash in 3” heels, particularly when there are no sidewalks. Provincetown tourist season is starting again and the only parking to be found was in the back of the wharf. Of course your room has to be near the boatslip. Not that far but fuck it seems like an eternity before I finally get there. My black rubber trench coat is dripping and the frayed edges of my flares are sopping wet. I don’t even want to know what I look like. Thank God for waterproof mascara and eyeliner.

You open the door and even though I feel as though I’ve known you forever we’ve never laid eyes on each other in person. You can’t help but break out in a shit-eating grin at my appearance. Evidently, I’m more drowned rat than dewy eyed temptress. “Hi,” I’m sheepish, embarrassed, dripping all over the carpet. Great first impression and very cool opening line. Not.

“Hi.” Leaning against the door jamb and allowing me very little room to maneuver into the room, you look amazing. But I had no doubts about that. “Can I offer you something? Drink? Towel? Hot shower?” I’ll start with the towel and try not to jump all over the hot shower just yet. You bring a big, fluffy white towel out of the bathroom and I try to find someplace inconspicuous to put my wet belongings. I flip my head over and scrub my hair. Now I’m sure I look like Adam Ant. You reach out and run your fingers through it and I reach up and grab your hands. I’ve wanted this from the moment I first saw your photos. First talked to you. I put your finger in my mouth and closing my eyes I slide it very slowly in and out. All the way in. All the way out. I open my eyes and your face is so close to me. I put my finger in your mouth and press my rain drenched lips over your mouth and my finger.

My knees buckle and the next thing I know we’re on the floor. Kneeling and fairly frantically working to take each other’s clothes off. The hunger I’ve felt for you has become starvation and I feel as if I’ll die if I don’t taste you now. Our mouths and hands are everywhere.  I’m on my back and my arms are out to both sides—your hands entwined in mine: strong, electric. The push and pull, give and take, control and submission ignites a passion I haven’t experienced in years. I force you onto your back and kiss you deeply, biting softly, sucking your lower lip, tugging at your lip ring playfully.  I pull you up so I’m straddling your lap and arch my back and you bury your face in my tits. My nipples are so hard. But it is my clit that throbs with need and as I lie all the way back you work your way down my body with a tongue that doesn’t stop.

Now you are exactly where I need you and my clit jumps at the first expert touch of your tongue. “Turn around. Turn around.” I want you in my mouth at the same time. I want to bury my face in your sweet Holy Grail. I can’t get enough of you and you’ve got my clit in your teeth and at least three fingers in my cunt. Everything is so fast and I’m moaning deep into you, creating a hum that reverberates off the walls inside you. I want to control it —I want it to last forever—but I can’t. I’ve got skyrockets going off in the deepest part of my body and it is reaching all the way down to my toes.  At the same time you shudder and buck against me and I drink you in as though I’ve been in the driest desert for 40 years.

But you aren’t done. I know your need to control and while I don’t easily give over to submission I don’t protest as you quickly slip into your leather harness and strap-on while flipping me over onto my stomach. I instinctively arch my back—my ass in the air as I shiver in anticipation of your penetration. You enter deeply as you pull on my still damp hair and I moan and push back against you. Your thrusting is fast and wild and I can’t tell where I end and you begin anymore. You tease me by slowing down and then making me beg you to fuck me harder. I hear your own groans join mine and together we collapse in a sweaty, heavy-breathing heap to the floor. We roll over laughing.

“So,” you say, “nice to finally meet you.”



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.


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.


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.


Wicked Wednesday: Blu for You

The tension in the car is thick as we drive to the club on Saturday night. We know what we want to do but still aren’t sure we can pull it off. I’m wearing a denim mini skirt without panties, at your request. At mine you are packing and ready for anything. I rub my hand against the hard bulge in your jeans and feel the seat beneath me get sticky and wet. Your breathing is hard and you moan a bit but I pull back and look out the window not wanting to sidetrack our plans for later.

We play some pool and I try hard not to flash everyone in the lounge every time I bend over the felt for a long shot. When I have a shot near the wall you come around and run your hand up my skirt and drag two fingers through my glistening cunt. You walk away with them in your mouth, in search of a drink while I try to regain my composure and end up scratching, giving up the game.

You lean against the bar and watch me dance with your friends. Our eyes lock across the room and everyone else just disappears for me. There is me. On stage. You. At the bar. Everyone else has evaporated into a whirling fog of luminescent bracelets, tight jeans, and the occasional bad wig. It’s time. I can’t wait. Come join me.

I watch you set your drink down. I watch you walk across the dance floor. Climb onto the stage with me and my breath quickens with every step you take towards me. I want you so badly but my nerve is flagging. The place is so crowded and no one seems to take notice and when I grind against your leg I know I have to follow through. I need you and I want you and I can’t wait. I can’t wait. I am facing the wall and you are dancing behind me your hips mimicking my hips until I thrust back against you feeling your cock hard against my ass. Your friends are on stage. Everyone is caught up in their own world. Their own dance. Their own partner. I am caught up in you.

I reach around and unzip your fly. You surreptitiously slide your cock out and raise the back of my skirt ever so slightly at the same time. It takes nothing to slip inside me and I steady my hands against you – one holding your hand, one playing in your hair. You keep one hand on my hip and guide us through the dance. The speaker is so close and the bass drums away as we push against each other. Grind into one another’s bodies. I feel as though I’m on some kind of drug. I’ve lost all care as to whether anyone can tell or whether anyone has noticed. It’s just you the lights the music your cock my cunt and oh my god I’m coming and you are right behind me breathing your orgasm into my ear as I lean back and say NOW NOW NOW.

I’m sweating and you’re sweating and I can feel my own juices trickling down my leg and the emptiness as you ease out of me and pull my skirt down around my ass. I turn around and kiss you long and hard as you put yourself back together. It is then, and only then, that I hear the sound of dozens of people clapping. All around us. I cover my utter embarrassment with small curtsy, grab your hand, and make a quick exit to the car, followed by hoots and howls of appreciation for our seemingly private performance.


Aw Shucks! Sugasm #175

Wouldn’t you know it? I land in the top three just before Sugasm goes on an indefinite hiatus! I have to say…this is a real honor for me because there are so many excellent bloggers out there and all of the work was a-ma-zing! My entry was MFM: Frustration. Enjoy everyone’s though…makes for great Sunday reading!

This Week’s Picks
“Sometimes I miss you so much that I am pitiful.”

MFM: Frustration
“I feel the weight of someone kneeling between my legs.”

Give me one
“Give me your orgasm.”

Sugasm Editor
Fetish Fridays: Kidnapping

Editor’s Choice
In Which Steff Has The Worst Birthday Ever

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See more great reading below:

BDSM & Fetish
As luck would have it, I’m the luckiest slave alive.
My Introduction to Bondage
On Your Knees

Erotic Poetry

Sex Advice
What Does Sex Feel Like for a Woman?
Where in the world is my G Spot?

News, Reviews & Interviews
The Erotic Woman
Streaming the Golden Showers
Top Five Tuesday – Bloodsuckers

Sex Humor
Options. Confession #349

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
HNT: Clamps
Rock n’ Roll Princess ~HNT

Sex Politics
What the hell is “rape-rape”?

Erotic Writing & Experiences
Always Laurel
Girlfriend – Mandy
Mouth For War
Musing No. 33 – Waterfall
A Taste of Chocolate
What lies beneath

HNT: Exotica

Sometimes it’s fun to play dress-up. I wanted to do some sort of homage to Bollywood, but as you can see by the white of my breasts, it’s a bit of a stretch. Nonetheless, I present to you, this week’s HNT: Exotica. Click through for some serious half-nekkidness and don’t forget to check out the links at Osbasso’s View from the Back Row for more HNT goodness!