this lust is cruel not because i can’t have him, but because i can and choose not to. he’s as loose as his gait, freer because he’s taken.

<<{{[O]}}>>

He caught me temporarily unaware. His big hands went around my waist hard enough to take my breath away and perched me on a high, narrow counter in some deserted corner where no one gave a shit about two whispering shadows. He forced his way between my clenched legs until my skirt rode up to my waist.

“Leave me be, goddamnit!”

“Nope. Not until you get what you want.”

“And what’s that?”

“I see the way you look at me.”

“And?”

“It hurts.” He leaned into me and one of his hands moved up my ribcage toward my breasts. I slapped him away.

“Don’t give me that emotional bullshit. It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth.” My heart beat fast against the hot wall of his chest. He gave a golden syrup slow grin. His blue eyes flashed.

“It’s not my heart that hurts…” He pressed his hips into me. “By the way – nice panties.” He caressed one of the little dancing penguins on the cotton fabric. “They’re hotter than if you’d been wearing some overpriced Victoria’s secret shit.” His hips thrust closer to the penguins. I pounded on his chest, but he just smiled. He knew I wasn’t giving him all I had. I leaned back and rested my head on the wall. His gaze made the exposed tops of my tits sizzle.

“This is a horrible idea,” I said. I took a deep breath.

“I agree, but I don’t care anymore.”

“So all your blood’s left your brain. Thanks for the warning,” I said. I decided if I didn’t look at him, I might be able to resist. But my thighs still hugged his hips. The feel of the metal studs on his jeans, the hardness of his muscle made it hard not to pant. The heat of his hands hovered over my exposed lower belly. If he dared mess the elastic of my panties,  I’d yell bloody murder…

I realized I was holding my breath.

I began to breathe through my mouth. He didn’t molest me, but he wasn’t moving.

“You know what will happen if we don’t do this,” he said with a little growl that made me curse the commandments. When I opened my eyes, his head was bowed and his face glowed like the (im)penitent Magdalene’s. Was he reflecting my ardor, or was it all his own? He had not taken his eyes from my penguins. The ones between my legs were swimming now.

“What’ll happen if we don’t rut like primates? We won’t go to hell, that’s what.” One of my heels fell to the floor.

“I love it when you play the prude.” He snickered into my neck, but he knew not to touch.

“Don’t be an asshole. It’s no game,” I said although my clit was hard and hot enough to melt his fly buttons. His lips hovered over my breasts, then his face was kissing close. Looking at him reminded me what my mouth was really made for.

“Look at me,” he said. I shook my head no. He squeezed my ribcage underneath my breasts and I groaned discordantly as a leaky accordion. The heat of his lips made my ear skin tingle. “Those penguins are drowning.” His tattooed knuckle grazed the wet fabric and I almost bucked. He caught it. “Let me touch you. Please.” My hands rested on his shoulders although I still couldn’t look at him. They moved, seemingly on their own, to his neck. I squeezed until he sighed. “You don’t have to do a thing to me, I swear. Let me make you come…”

The earnestness of his desire made my eyes burn. In fact,  everything was burning. Even the air around us felt superheated. I traced his lips slowly but stopped when he tried to lick. “No.” My face was so close to his I could taste his breath, but it was not enough. Not nearly. I slid two fingers into his mouth. They passed his teeth and undulated on his tongue. His mouth watered and he sucked the salt off. I had meant to be quick, just wet my fingers, but the silky suggestiveness of his mouth banished thought.

I ran my fingertips along the nacreous inside of his lips and brought them to my mouth. The taste of his chemicals made everything wet – sweat dripped from my temples, my underarms, between my breasts. He was both hard and soft against me, eager but waiting. I wet my fingers in his mouth again, not letting him suck.

Then, in one smooth movement, I pulled my panties down and buried them in my slit. I didn’t need the lubrication, but the thought of his saliva swirling around my swollen clit along with my wetness was enough to give me pre-orgasm shivers. He pulled my panties further down to see but when he tried to touch, I slapped his hand.

“No. Just watch.” I pointed to my panties. “Pull them off.” He was deliberate, grabbing them by the soaked crotch panel. He rubbed his thumbs on the hot stickiness of me before pulling them off, then stuffed them in his pocket. My hand was already working quickly, rubbing quick circles around my clit. Color rose in his cheeks as my scent rose to his downturned face. His brow was sweaty right up to his thick auburn hair and I wanted to trace his widow’s peak with my tongue. He tried to undo his fly and I stopped rubbing.  My hand trembled on his wrist. “No. Please.”

If I saw him I would not be able to resist.

He sighed and focused on my pussy, running his hands up my thighs and parting my legs for a better look. The stone underneath my ass was already dark with wetness as I rubbed. His eyes followed every move so closely he didn’t see me focusing on the shadow of his cock under his jeans. It was so thick…the prospect of his brand of ache, so close yet so far away, was too much to bear.

“Fuck!” The desperation in my voice made him shiver. I parted my lips so he could see every ripple and fold. His hands moved to my inner thighs and massaged, chasing heat. Two fingers didn’t feel like nearly enough, so I slid a third inside myself. I was throbbing. I wanted to feel his strength there, pounding rhythmically as my heart.

Why’d I have to bring hearts into it?

My fingers faltered and the cold gleam coming off his wedding band made my teeth chatter. Maybe it was my frustrated desire, because this was certainly not blind lust. It was deeper than that, far more disastrous. I caught his eye and for a full minute, we just looked into each other. My fingers began to move again, soft little flicks on my clit that sent monstrous waves of pleasure up my spine. Something powerful jumped from him to me. We were suddenly a closed system, defying the laws of entropy with sheer desire. I felt him underneath my skin. He began to breathe with me, sharp pants that got faster and faster. His face got closer and closer, his blue hot eyes bigger and bigger until he was all I felt. His desire was growing with mine and I could feel it, feel it expand and throb deep in my ribcage until I could hardly breathe…

I bumped up against the raw sweetness of his orgasm and fell headfirst into mine. I twitched almost painfully hard around his surging fingers, making his wrist tattoo of a sun gleam with my come. He groaned into my neck and I wrapped my legs around his hips and hugged him tighter, one hand still slippery with his come.

“This is really cutting it close,” I said. His fingers curled inside me and I tightened around him as he pulled out. He sucked them clean, moaning at the taste of me.

“It wasn’t nearly close enough.” He squeezed my ass and pressed himself against me.  He was still hard and the feel of him reminded me of why I was doing this. I brought my sticky hand to my nose and licked him off. I wanted to taste him hot, right from the source.

“It’s begun, hasn’t it?”

He nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the darkness before kissing his breath away.

INFO FROM REDIT (link to PDF)

She cuddled deeper into the sofa and turned up the television. NOVA was on.

“Agatha!” He extended the last syllable like a whiny teenager. She hadn’t bothered to put on clothes. She spread her legs and caressed her slit. She wasn’t worried about him – he could scream as loudly as he wanted to. It was a house, so no one would hear.

“Please…”

Her nipples hardened, and the little bars pierced on them suddenly felt cold. He could make her come if he said it like that again. She drew slow circles around her clit thinking about his condition. Was he sweaty? Trembling? Was he hard, or had he gotten soft with the pain? Her vision blurred as she pressed hard into her hard clit. She wasn’t waiting any longer.

She tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear against it. She could hear him breath – it was rough and quick.

“Oh God, I’m so-” He dripped sweat, and there were pools of it on the floor under his knees. Surprisingly, he was still semi-hard and the head of his cock was wet with precum. He’d loved the punishment as much as she had. She waved the handcuff keys in his face.  He winced at the reminder of his pain, but his cock bobbed up with a fresh burst of blood. He was hardening fast in her presence.

“You frustrated me, pet – made me go without.” She licked the salt from his erect nipples until he shivered. She tickled his balls softly. “I don’t know whether you’ve seen the error of your ways yet.”

His lower lip quivered like a boy’s. His eyes were liquid with entreaty.

“Will you be good if I set you free?” She squeezed his knees and he winced, biting his lower lip. She’d come in just in time. He would bruise, but just enough to remind him of their games for a day or two. He looked into her eyes, but didn’t say a word as her hands traveled up the back of his thighs to his ass.

“Answer me!” Her hands turned to claws on his firm flesh.

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll be m-much better now.” That little stutter was deadly. She rubbed her body against him one as she unlocked the handcuffs. The strong smell of his lust fired her own. She wanted to bathe in his sweat. His arms dropped heavily to his side, but he still managed to caress her hips. She spread her knees until she rubbed at his bound cock and balls with her flat belly. The softness of her breasts against the tense hardness of his chest made his hips buck, but he did not try to touch her. He was a quick learner.

She grabbed a pillow and guided him to it with the leash. He crawled slowly, his jaw muscles clenched against the pain, but his eyes never left hers. She sat in front of him on the ottoman. Again, his eyes dropped between her legs, where she was now messy and fragrant with arousal. She knew his mouth was watering.

“Up!” she said, and pulled on the leash until he was on his knees. She gave him an appraising look. Most of the welts were gone, but there were a couple of good little bruises on his hips and thighs. As much as she liked the thought of another cropping session, she was horny.

She wanted to fuck.

She pinched each nipple until it was taut and deep rose, then sucked on them. He rocked on his knees at the delicious friction of her tongue after such hard pinching. She smirked. She made little circles with her thumb on the saliva-wet flesh of his areolas.

“Didn’t you tell me that this doesn’t do anything for you?” His cock pulsed fruitlessly in the air, dripping. “Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”

“It feels good, Ma’am. Very-” He arched and groaned when she bit his nipple. He trembled violently, and goose bumps make the hairs on his arms and legs stand on end. His reaction to nipple torture was beautiful to behold, but she had to take a moment.

“Stay.” He nodded once.

She went to her toy chest and looked through it, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. She couldn’t even look at him because she knew she would lose control, knock him down and ride his cock until they were both raw with friction burn… her hunger for him went beyond orgasm. She closed her eyes when she found a pair of clover clips on a chain and rode the enormous wave of lust.  She must be patient, because keeping her head while her body begged for release was the most exquisite part of the play.

He whimpered somewhere behind her and the chain leash rattled. His knees must be screaming regardless of the pillow. The fact that he had not dropped to his hands and knees to ease the ache was enough to make her pussy tighten slowly and forcefully. Her pussy lips were so swollen she felt her heartbeat between her legs.

“I have a little something to show you.” She held the clover clamps up to his face. “I want you to try them on for me.” He nodded his head quickly. Although they had never played with them, he must’ve known very well what they were. She massaged the flesh around his nipples until they were taut again, and pinched each one with the heavy clamp. He nearly went limp with pleasure.

“On your hands and knees,” she said, and jerked on the clip chain. He dropped with a groan and arched. When she let go of the chain, he sighed mournfully. She feasted her eyes on him. His face was flushed and sweaty and his eyes were cloudy with pleasure. She licked the sweat around her lips and leaned back. His cock bobbed pertly underneath him.

He was ready to take… or be taken. She pondered the possibilities for a minute as he savored the ever-present ache on his chest and knees.

Should she use one of her dildos on the clover clamps to vibrate his oversensitive nipples into a hands-free orgasm? Or maybe rim his tight starfish before fucking him with a strap-on until he paints her floor with come? Should she indulge his foot and stocking fetish and massage his cock and balls with her feet until he ruins her stockings?

She tried to think of something clever, but all she really wanted was to feed him her come until he nearly drowned in it. She sighed so deeply he gave her a questioning look.

“Get on your back.” The chain jingled as he obeyed. She straddled his head and crouched facing his feet until he could almost lick her. “If you do well, you’ll get your prize.” She sat on his face.

He grunted happily into her as his tongue worked its way from her opening to her clit. The tip of his nose tickled her asshole. She grabbed the chain connected to then nipple clamps and pulled viciously as she rode his face. His tongue danced so perfectly on her clit she lost her rhythm.

“Fuck, boy. You eat it like that and I’ll have to squirt on your face.” He groaned again and thrust his hips forward. His cock bobbed on his tight belly. He moved her little hood back with his lower lip and used the rough side of his tongue right on her bud. She lost strength in her legs and her full weight was on his face, but he grabbed her thighs and pressed her to him. He thrust his hips into the air rhythmically as her moans got more desperate and his belly was glossy with precum. The sensory overload and the promise of his hard cock buried in her still-twitching womb pushed her over the edge, and she came copiously into his waiting mouth. The orgasm was like riding a wave smoothly to shore – only an appetizer. She wanted more.

She moved smoothly down his body until she straddled his hips, and he slid easily into her.  The vision of his cock finally buried inside her, sucked and swallowed by her swollen lips was almost too much for him. He mewled and his hands hovered reverently a couple of centimeters from her quivering ass. He felt the delicious ache in his nipples deep in his belly. As she took him, he imagined the head of his cock nudging deep in her hallowed belly, still so tight from the orgasm he’d given her…

“I’m really close.” His voice was small. She turned to look at him but his eyes remained on her ass. She slowed down so she could feel the warning throb. She rubbed her sensitive clit and shivered on top of him. “Please, let me make you come again, Ma’am.” His hands turned to fists at his side. She crawled forward and he slid out of her.

She stuck her ass in the air and put her cheek to the floor. He sat up quickly and knelt behind her, but he was afraid to grab her without permission. She wiggled her ass impatiently. “Be a good pet and fuck the come out of me, hmm?” He grabbed her hips and plowed into her. They both cried out at the same time. Her smile faded and her fingers clawed into the floor as his cock reached the very center of her being – bless his heart but he had a big fucking cock – and her ears rang with pleasure. Her throat was hoarse from moaning and she began to tremble with the force of her impending orgasm.

“Fuck me just like that, you fucking bastard!” It came out a whisper instead of an order he was so deep. She got on her hands and turned to him.”Say it.”

He reached around to fondle her clit as he fucked her.

“Goddamn it boy, say it! I want to hear you say it…” Her face screwed up with frustration. He stopped moving inside and felt her pulse softly around him. His hand caressed the sweaty skin of her ass.

“I want to fuck it into you…” He was a bit hesitant as he slid slowly into her.

She shivered. “Yes.”

He gained confidence. “…stretch you out, make you come on my fat cock…” His thrusts got deeper.

Her long hair stuck to the sweat on her back. “Don’t you stop, you incorrigible fuck…” She was getting rigid, and her breath sounded like a bellows.

He felt his come moving up his cock and his bruised knees shook on the floor. “I’m gonna fill you up with my come then keep fucking until I mix it with yours…”

“Oh no you didn’t…” she sat up with a wail and clawed at his arms as she came. Her pussy twitched so hard he could barely move, and her juices dripped off his balls. The lost look in her eye, seeing her lose control like that made him tighten painfully then let go. He bucked into her, never letting up as he did as he’d told her – he filled her up until he could felt his syrupy seed mix with her juices deep inside her.

They were both shaking as he withdrew and slid back to the floor. He was surprised when she laid beside him and wrapped her arms around him. She nuzzled his temple, then kissed him softly.

“You’re learning fast, pet. I could really get used to that.”

Now he was filled to the brim.

It’s definitely not in what lies between them.

My soul is not in my gaze
or in my laugh, however riotous and sincere.
It’s not in the swing in my step, or the perfume I wear
or the timbre of my voice.

My soul is
every single word of each thought I wrote to you
You saw, felt, heard, tasted the best of me
unfiltered, uncensored, naked
eons more intimate than sweaty bodies entwined
we touched upon something that must be given freely
and can’t be faked–

Or so I thought, yet I’m here alone.

You don’t owe me a thing I think every night
lying in a bed that’s voluntarily cold -
I can’t stand the feel of another
it’s a cheap mockery
a weak echo
of the warmth that I once conjured to give me faith
even when I didn’t know your face but…

You don’t owe me a thing. No promises were uttered.

You don’t owe me a thing? I ask myself
Not even an explanation, apology, even a goddamned goodbye
or a fucking fare thee well?
The high road has never felt more hollow.
With empty hands aloft
and downcast eyes overflowing
my reveille each morning and my lullaby each night remains…

You don’t owe me a thing. There were never any guarantees.

You don’t owe me a goddamned thing I repeat to myself
using up the remnants of the faith I once wasted on you
hoping it’ll sink into my stubborn head
praying it’ll seep down into my chest
–  so empty after all that could’ve been turned to naught –
and quiet the surprised cries of the broken heart that knows too well
you’re a day late and a dollar short.

I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of crying or begging.

I took a cleansing breath and faced them head-on. Their hands were like iron, but I slid out of their sweaty grip just before the biggest man put the whole weight of his body into stomping my backbone. They didn’t lunge toward me. They were smug.

“You know, you’ll break my spinal column if you do that.” I pointed at the man’s shovel sized foot. “You wouldn’t want the fun to end before it started, would you?”

He looked confusedly at the only woman in the group. She was younger than me, tall with bobbed hair and pale eyes. She was pretty enough, but she looked mannish amongst all those thugs. The men cracked their knuckles eagerly as they waited for her to make her decision.

It must be her show, but I’ve to figure out why she wanted to hurt me in the first place. She couldn’t possibly know…

She took off her thin jacket slowly, revealing a startlingly feminine silk and satin paneled dress in the modern style. The cloth shone with glass beads underneath the factory fluorescents – it was certainly not made here. The men’s faces fell.

“Get out.” Her voice was painfully harsh. They gave her a quizzical look.

“But you told us we’d get to-” She put a gloved hand up and all of their mouths slapped shut at the same time. It was an imperious gesture – she was used to telling men such as that what to do.

My heart was going to pound its way right out of my ribcage.

“We will wait in the car.” She waved her hand again, grimacing with the apparent frustration of having to deal with them. She remained perfectly still until the last man had closed the door. She locked it. Adrenaline made my temples pound, and my hands had already turned to claws. I would bury them into her pretty face even if I died doing it.

“Raawwrgh!” I landed on her, wrapped my legs around her waist and pulled her hair viciously. I wanted to feel her scalp give way until I had two handfuls of her thick brown hair. I beat on her shoulder with a clenched fist as I pulled, savoring my impending victory…

She wasn’t fighting back. In fact, as my grip on her waist loosened I saw that her face was flushed and her eyes had a look I was very familiar with – but not in the midst of a fight. I fell off her and crouched underneath a machine. When I looked down, more than a couple of her hairs stuck to the sweat on my palms. I waited for her to open the door and call her thugs to finish me off now that she’d had her fun. I panted in the dusty darkness. Her kid heels clicked as she walked toward me. I couldn’t help staring – each was tied with an enormous silk grosgrain ribbon. I’d always dreamed about owning such shoes… it made even the most ungraceful, large foot look delicate. I looked down toward my own. Her hand wrapped around my scuffed leather boot and pulled me squirming into the light. I expected her to bury her beautiful shoe in my ribcage before I could get my bearings. Instead, she laughed. It was an alien sound in a place such as this. I looked at her, goggle-eyed.

“Come now, don’t give me such a look. It’s positively hideous.” She sat down without crossing her legs. Her pearly gray silk stockings stopped right above her knees, and beyond that all I could see is rosy flesh and inviting darkness. My cheeks burned and I crawled back underneath the sewing machine. I tried not to look, but I couldn’t help wondering whether those fine stockings were any silkier than her flesh. My hungry belly growled.

She reached underneath and started to pull me out by one of my thick braids. I pushed her onto a scrap-covered counter and slapped her. As she moved her hand to her face, I bit down on the bit of naked wrist beyond her tight kid glove. Just as soon as teeth hit flesh, I nearly lost strength in my knees. Her painted lips parted and her eyes fell closed. I let her hand fall to her lap and took a trembling step back. She opened her eyes and dreamily inspected the damage to her wrist.

“Good heavens, why did you stop?” Her nipples poked through the silk at the front of her dress. Her cheek was livid with my palm print. The bite mark shone with my saliva, and she licked it slowly, placing her teeth where mine had dimpled her flesh. “You are a lively cunt, I’ll grant them that,” she said. She got up and smoothed her dress out. I cowered right into another machine table and sat on it. Her face hardened at my apparent lack of enthusiasm. “You do know why I am here, do you not?”

I looked down at my boots. I would not play their games – if they wanted to kill me, so be it, but I was not sorry.

“Tell me, girl. You cannot be so God damned stupid that you do not know why I am here.” I looked up in shock. I’d never heard such a fine-looking lady curse so terribly, but my shock turned to fury once I realized what she’d called me.

“I am not girl.” I was so angry my accent came back. She gave me a slow up and down look that made my skin prickle. There was a flash of humiliation when I compared her Paris-bought dress to my tattered cotton work dress, but I swallowed it.

She lunged forward and grabbed my waist. To her amusement, I bared my teeth at her and moved away. “You’re corseted. How fin de siècle.” I couldn’t hold back a haughty guffaw. At least I wasn’t walking around the streets without any underwear whatsoever, like a whore.

Like her.

“My word, they were certainly right about you!” She started to unbutton her gloves. The hands underneath were pale and soft, and her short nails were unvarnished. Sweat itched underneath my corset. I couldn’t believe how much I was sweating in this cold, abandoned room. She threw her gloves on the dirty floor and pointed to them. “Come here.” I looked at the crumpled gloves, but didn’t move a centimeter. “Let us talk awhile. I will not hurt you. The men are gone.” I looked to the floor.

I would not let her toy with me like the bosses did with the others.

Her breath became ragged with rage. “Come here you fucking slut, or I swear I’ll have them tear you limb from thieving limb while I watch!”

I did not move a muscle.

She ran to me and slapped me so hard my eyes watered. She scratched and she spit and she kicked with her eyes closed with passion. My breath came in gasps but I didn’t move. She was taller but she was also more slight. If I wanted to, I could stop her assault.  She pushed me up against a wall and started to pull up my skirt. I pushed her away forcefully enough for her to tumble onto a table like a pile of rags. She laughed.

“A modest crook. I guess it takes all sorts,” she said. I shrugged my shoulders. How could a spoiled little bitch like her know what it was like to go without. They had everything, yet they wanted more… if they stole what little we had, I would steal it back. I would not watch my family starve so privileged cunts like her had a new spring wardrobe. My face stung with her scratches, but I gloried in the pain.

Let them beat me to death – I would never apologize. Never.

She saw the resolve on my face and stomped the floor. “I’ve never had to work so hard to get one of you bolshie whores to capitulate.” She grabbed my face painfully and made me look up at her face. It was white save for a bright red spot at the top of each cheek. “I am going to be completely clear with you. My father’s men are outside waiting for my signal. If I am forced to call them up here, that will be the end of your miserable life.” She twisted her neck at the end of each sentence, as if biting it off. “Comprennez-vous? You will die if you do not do exactly as I tell you.” Pain shot up my leg as she ground into my toes with her dainty heel.

What did a spoiled brat like her want from me?

She stomped on my bruised foot. I screamed back into reality and shoved her away. Her hip bumped painfully into an old sewing machine, but she just laughed it off. “Mmm, I like it that way.” She hiked her skirt up and exposed herself to me. Even as I ran to the other side of the room, I couldn’t erase the image of her creamy thighs, the fact her silken pussy hair stuck to her lips with wetness. Stupid bourgeois whore.

Beautiful, but they’d always gotten what they wanted so easily that they lost their subtlety.

I looked back at her, and her long fingers moved between her thighs in a way that was universally recognizable. My mouth watered involuntarily. Her hand slowed when she noticed I was looking.

“You know, we can make this easy, or we can make this very hard…” She walked to me and caressed me with wet fingers. I hated the fact that her scent made me tremble, and not in fear. She tugged on my skirt and jammed a leg between mine. Her thighs, strong and slim with a lifetime of horseback riding, pressed into my mound and rubbed obscenely. When I tried to push her away, she clamped on my leg painfully and laughed.

“Ooh, hot-headed.” I tried to slap her, but she grabbed my wrist. “You will fuck me, or all your little compatriots get the boot…so to speak.” My arm went limp. If they were thrown in jail, the children would surely starve.

“You greedy whore.” It slipped out before I could stop it.  Her thigh began to rub again, but I didn’t fight. Regardless of my anger, it was easy.

“You’re lucky I even like this sort of thing, or I would’ve just had Daddy’s thugs kill you…” She tore at the buttons on my dress and watched a drop of sweat race to the valley between my breasts. She licked the trail from fat salty bead to the hollow of my neck. She pressed her lips on my ear. “No society bitch sweats like that.” She sighed longingly and hiked up my skirt again. Her fingers slid into my rough cotton stockings and pinched my skin, but it was more greed than sadism. Her hand moved up the inside of my thigh, underneath my loose bloomers. I could feel the heat radiating from her fingers on me. I groaned and thrust my hips forcefully. She was taken by surprise and staggered back.

“Damn you!” I slammed into her and she fell back onto a cutting table. I climbed on top of her and slapped and pulled her hair. Her face was twisted with some powerful emotion, but I didn’t care. The delicate lace of her pretty dress scratched at the skin of my inner thighs, so I tugged on it. Surprisingly, it gave. “Selfish rich bitch, see how you like me now!” Cloth tore and beads clicked to the floor as I destroyed the beautiful dress I would never wear. I pulled the glass bead necklace from around her slim neck and it snapped, spilling beads onto the table. I clawed and I ripped until there was only naked flesh, then I scratched. She fought underneath me, but just enough to make her firm little tits jiggle.

Her nipples were red and taut. Her breasts mocked me with their creamy perfection after my assault, so I slapped one. She groaned, and I slapped harder. They bounced and settled, each with a blooming hand-shaped welt. I pinched the nipples and pulled until they were teepee shaped, pinched as hard as I could and pulled, but she didn’t fight me. Instead, she arched.

“That’s it, woman. Show me what I am.” I slapped her painted mouth shut with shock. She liked my treatment? She sucked on her bruised lip and ripped at my bodice. The wood buttons clattered on the table. She tugged until my breasts were free from the corset and sighed. I knew I should, but I couldn’t stop her as she pinched my brown nipples to life. She squeezed my breasts. She weighed them in her hands and cooed with delight. “Mmm, so heavy. How delightful.” I slapped her hands away and put my hand on her neck. She pouted, but she didn’t fight. Sneaky fingers rubbed between my legs again, and her eyes narrowed. She pressed the seam of my bloomers into my seam. I shivered. “That isn’t sweat, woman.” The seam rubbed into my bud and my hand loosened on her neck. She smiled. “I know your secret…” Her sing-song made me see red.

Who had discovered my secret lust for women? Ever since leaving my country I had tried to do everything right, let a fellow or two call on me. I dressed as femininely as I dared and avoided any woman I was attracted to.  I didn’t want to get married, but there were many ‘normal’ women in the movement who chose to remain unmarried. Why would my choice be so extraordinary…

I tried to get off of her, but she pulled at my gold cross necklace. The thin chain cut into the back of my neck. “Uh uh, darling. That’s not how it works.” I tasted bile.

“Fuck you.” The words came out rusty. I wasn’t used to cursing so vilely. She pulled until my naked breasts pressed against hers. Her undeniably sweet breath made me whimper. Her hand began its rhythmic caress between my legs again.

“When was the last time you fucked anyone…and by that I mean, anyone you really wanted to fuck?”

My thoughts drifted to my dear friend back home, to her expert caresses and her hungry mouth. My hand twitched on the table as I thought of her long black hair between my fingers as I pressed her to my sex, of biting my other hand so the other nurses did not hear me moan…

She unbuttoned my bloomers and reached inside. Her eager touch made me buck into her. A fine groomed hand massaging the wet, sweaty folds of my pussy was too much to resist. It had been too long. She sat up and spread her thighs until my ass was on the table. Her finger still danced over my clit. I spread, and she tugged and pinched until she coaxed a moan from me. She pulled off my bloomers – so serviceable with not a centimeter of lace – and pressed the sodden seam of the garment to her nose. I bolted and ran to the door, leaving my chain in her fist. Not surprisingly, it was firmly locked.

“Putain!“

She spread her legs and her nether lips parted, exposing the pearly pinkness. My head spun. “Putain is right,” she said. “Come here.” I shamefully realized it took willpower not to obey. She licked the seam of my bloomers, never taking her eyes off me. My thighs were slippery underneath my skirt. I’d never seen a woman be so enthusiastic to taste another since her. It made me ache with lust, although she was a spoiled bitch.

Spoiled bitch or not, she was here and she was eager. Muscle memory made my fingers twitch and curl as I looked at her wet pussy. She beckoned to me.

“We can do this all night. This part of the factory has been empty for years.” My legs moved of their own accord. She sucked the wetness from the cloth and licked her lips. “You do well by me and your friends will keep their places.” Her haughty attitude made me growl with frustration. My fingers slid easily inside her. Her eyes widened with surprise. “No preamble. I love that-”

I cut her off with a slap, then buried another finger in her cunt. My four fingers fit snugly inside her, and I pounded into her to the knuckle. She pulled weakly at the buttons of my skirt until it fell to the floor at my feet, then wrapped her long legs around me. I roughly pushed her on her back and reamed into her. It had been so long since I felt the maddening pressure of a hot pussy with my fingers, smelled the musk, heard it squish so sweetly. She was a smug rich cunt but pussy was pussy, and hers was eager and tight. My lust rose to my head so quickly it gave me a splitting headache. I was soon bent over her, pumping and licking the wetness from her thighs as her legs slid on my sweaty naked ass.

“Fuck my hungry bourgeois cunt!” she yelled.

“Stupid whore, you don’t know what hunger is!” Anger made me rougher, and I slapped her flushed face as I worked my fingers inside her. Her hard clit stuck out, but I didn’t feel like rubbing it. That little act of defiance made my pussy twitch around nothing. I put a knee on the table for leverage and she saw my wetness.

“Please let me lick it!” She tried to sit up, but I pushed her back down so hard her head slammed onto the table. She winced, then smiled. “You can’t hide it, woman.” She looked at my pussy and licked her lips slowly and moaned. It disgusted and aroused me at the same time.  I straddled her face, bearing down until I knew my wet lips had formed a vacuum seal around her nose and mouth. She licked up and down my slit, cleaning off the musky wetness before flicking her tongue on my clit. My thighs tightened around her face. She groaned into my flesh and tried to caress my ass, but I slammed her wrists to the table.

Her tongue danced expertly over and around my clit – she knew well what she was doing. Pleasure made the strength start bleeding from my limbs. She lifted her knees to her chest and spread as far as she could, her toes pointed in her expensive shoes. My thighs turned to iron again.

How many poor woman from her daddy’s factories had she coerced with the threat of being thrown out on the street? Her hips moved brazenly in the same rhythm as her tongue, her plump little mound fanning her animal scent to me. Her hands began to twitch as she ran out of air. I giggled softly as her legs twitched, then kicked. What was most fascinating is that her tongue didn’t stop moving. For a shining moment I imagined suffocating her with my come. I could easily snap her neck between my thighs and leave her there to rot…just another decadent pig drowning in her own vice…

The image of the thugs waiting outside broke my reverie, and I lifted my hips. She breathed raggedly into me. “Oh, do come on. I’ve had saloon whores sit longer than that.” She shoved her face into my swollen pussy flesh and grunted. I involuntary curled into myself and fell onto her. She squeezed my ass contentedly as she rooted around with her tongue, then slid a finger into my asshole.

“What the-” No one had ever done such a thing, and I was surprised at how good it felt. I fell forward onto her belly, and she was suddenly close enough to lick. It had been a long, long time since I’d seen a pussy that close, and I’d only tasted one other than my own. Her taut pink clit teased me as she moved her hips toward my face. I turned away and my open mouth rubbed against her wet inner thigh. Her taste flooded my mouth and made my eyes water.

I could not give in. She was a dreadful woman, spoiled, cruel, smug. I would not be bought…

I bucked into her face hard and rough. I wanted to make the cartilage of her pretty nose crack against me, wanted to make her hurt. She would pay for putting me in this position, for making it hard to resist her advances. She caught me by surprise and squeezed my head between her thighs. My open lips rubbed against hers, and my resolve vanished just as soon as her copious juices hit my tongue. I grabbed her by the asscheeks and licked feverishly, tracing my tongue on each of her sweet ripples and folds. She moaned roughly into me and slid a second finger in my ass. I spread her ass cheeks until the puckered camel skin of her asshole shone. I licked it wet and slid a finger inside. The giving was as surprisingly delicious as the getting – her muscles winked around my probing finger, and she was impossibly hot. I sucked on the tender flesh of her labia until she dripped onto the table, then sucked at her clit. My pleasure was not as urgent to me as the intense pleasure of touching, sucking and licking her. A faint voice in the back of my militant mind screamed “You’ve lost! You’re as bad as she is!” but it did not sour the sweetness of her cunt.

Smug rich cunt or not, right now she was licking me to the best orgasm I’ve had in years. I wanted to fill her mouth as she filled mine. My hands turned to claws on her ass. I licked her clit slowly and firmly, establishing a rhythm that she matched with her tongue. My eyes fell closed and I took in every nuance of her flavor.

Perfume, the faintest taste of piss, sweat and musk so enticing it made my clit twitch on her tongue.

She’s good.

The realization went against every sensibility I had, but my tongue didn’t stop flicking and licking. In fact, my sexual defection made it all the more sweet. I let the feeling wash over me. Sweat made my belly slippery on her breasts, and I tightened around her tongue and her fingers. Fantasy fused into reality.

The bourgeois cunt is as fucking delicious as I had imagined it the first time I saw her climbing out of her daddy’s shining Packard for her monthly visit to the factories… I sucked her hard, hot bud into my mouth. No. even more.

She sucked on my clit just as eagerly and I threw back my head and groaned.

How had I sensed that she was a wicked, disgusting woman? How had she known that I was the same deep underneath it all?

I bowed my head again and teased her clit with tongue and lips until her thighs pressed against the sides of my face. I got an intense hit of that elusive taste, the pre-orgasm burst of juices, and I sucked in earnest. I was so ready…

She bucked into my face as she came. Her cunt twitched forcefully and soaked my thrusting fingers. I wanted to coax as many little earthquakes as I could, so I licked firmly and kneaded at her pulsing flesh until she was screaming into my pussy. She kept coming and coming, each time a little more forcefully, until she nearly bucked me off her with her convulsions. By the time I was done, there was a huge wet spot on the table underneath her ass. I lifted my pussy off her face and she whimpered.

“No. You haven’t spent yet…” Three fingers slid into my pussy and curled into my sweet spot. Her pussy opened and closed slowly as she kneaded into me, knowing well I was ready. Heat bloomed in my inner thighs, moved up toward my belly, climbed up my spine and went straight to my brain. For a second there was only an intense pulse of sensation, then my back arched and I came copiously all over her face and shoulders. I hadn’t spent so much in forever, and the explosive release was worth my previous anger.

I had a sneaking suspicion my anger was what had made it better.

She cooed and massaged every twitch out of me, giving me what I had willingly given her. I was so weak I laid my cheek between her legs. She was still throbbing softly. My mouth watered so fast I drooled, but I crawled off her and tried to stand. My knees shook. She climbed deftly off the table and pulled her torn dress back on. I was struggling with my skirt, and she helped me pull it up and button it. She wrapped her hands around my waist and smiled down on me. Her eyes had gone soft with satisfaction. I realized that they mirrored mine.

“You were worth all the rigmarole it took to coax the truth out of you, woman,” she said, and handed me my blouse. I was too subdued to fake indignation.

“How did you know? Why would you even care? You can get a fine society lady…” She twisted her lips in the universal sign for distaste.  She went into a dusty box of pins and helped me put on my blouse. Her dress opened up, and I touched her bruised breasts. Her nipples hardened again.

“I don’t want society ladies, they’re as boringly sweet as refined sugar. I prefer something a bit more…unfiltered.” She reached underneath my skirt and cupped my mound. I sighed into her face. “Anyway, I cannot really say how I know such things,” she said through a mouthful of safety pins. “Maybe a certain manner… a certain kind of walk or talk. All I know is when I saw you, your eyes flashed in a way that let me know you were not just admiring my frock. Such desire’s hard to hide even behind a staid, faux bolshie facade. I knew you’d be a challenge, but you are worth every bruise.”

“Faux bolshie?” My anger made my heart beat white flashes in my vision. I was already syrupy with arousal again.

She climbed back on the table and gave me a crooked grin.

Dearest Readers,

I have a proposition for you as Solstice darkens, and Yule logs and miraculous oil lamps beat back the night with festivity. We Northerners find all kinds of ways to get warm this time of year, and Down Under it’s hot as blazes, so what’s a little more sweat?

As a small token of thanks to our readers, new and old, dabbling and deep, I would like to help end your 2011 with a bang, or several, and here’s how: I’m giving away books – and more. Three books, or rather coupons redeemable for any of my books available at Republica Press will be randomly selected from the commenters on this thread that meet the criteria.

“The criteria?!” you cry, “What are they?”

They are these:

• In your comment, you need to name your favorite stories/poems/what-have-yous from each of The Erotic Writers (Monocle, Redbud, and Ximena), and say why they are your favorites. You don’t need to write an essay (though something deep and insightful might win an extra reward), but “because it was hot” or the like won’t count as sufficient.
• Yes, you have to choose a favorite from each of us, or your entry doesn’t count. (I know! What a hardass.)
• All stories/poetry/prose on the blog count.
• Obsidian Lens stories are fine, but note your comments here will not be behind a password wall.
• If you comment more than once, you’ll still be counted only once for the draw.
• If you comment it is implicit you’re OK with my announcing  your chosen pseudonym/handle as the winner in this or a subsequent post.

When? I plan on drawing the first winner on Christmas Eve (though I don’t know my schedule, so I don’t know what time, exactly), and the second two winners on New Year’s Eve. The Christmas winner will be entered in the New Year’s drawing, and could win a second book. I’ll announce as soon as I can.

The books the winners may choose from are: Nightmares & Visions, Through a Tinted Lens, Through an Ethereal Lens, Through a Silvered Lens, Through a Haunted Lens, Tentacle Dreams, and Hearteater. More information on each is available on our Publications page linked above, or at Republica Press itself.

There’s a second Christmas Eve prize  as well! The second winner  can commission a story from Redbud – want a fairy tale eroticized? — always imagined a certain scenario? You name it.

So, what are your favorites and why?

And Happy Holidays from The Erotic Writer!

- Monocle & Redbud

Xmas Eve Update – First Two Winners!

*** Free E-Book Winner ***: AtALoss 

(Your code will be coming via e-mail)

*** Redbud Custom Story Winner ***: AspiringWordsmith

(Info forthcoming)

Congratulations and Happy holidays!

Part 2 – two more E-Books given away – will be announced on New Year’s Eve. All current entrants, including today’s winners, are eligible, and ANY NEW ENTRANTS are welcome.

New Year’s Eve Update – Last Two Winners!

*** Free E-Book Winners ***: imaginaryalex and Paul Weimer

(Your codes will be coming via e-mail)

Congratulations and Happy New Year!