Targets

With all the dark and secretive going on behind the Obsidian Lens, here’s something with a heavy name rather lighter content. It also happens to contain today’s #wankwednesday cue word, though it is by no means the focus of the piece. –M

Targets

We were in that really filthy part of the fuck, when I felt like a steel pole being forged by the Goddess herself, and Dawn was rocking under me with each thrust, emitting sounds that would make lesser men, and women, cream their jeans instantaneously. Sure that sounds over the top, hyperbolic, even. But come on, if you could fuck Dawn, you’d be over the top too, every fucking time. And no, you can’t fuck her, because she’s mine and I don’t share. And neither does she, for that matter.

Anyway, right about when I was getting ready to completely cave in to lust and go all jackhammery, I caught sight of Dawn’s lipstick on the bed-table. Not that it struck me as odd, even though it was. Lipstick didn’t live on the bed-table usually, but that wasn’t really the pont, then and there. Instead it just clicked over another thought, and a different plan. Fucking is, as you may or may not have experienced, great for free association.

So, I gave Dawn a big ol’ wet, tonguey kiss, hilting in her, and reached for the tube, then leaned back a bit and opened it up.

“What are you doing, Leo?” I love it when she asks that question. Especially with that panting, ‘I’m fucking’ voice.

I didn’t answer, instead taking the lipstick and drawing a circle around one of her breasts with it.

“Oh, Jeez! Leo! You’ll ruin it!”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” I said, drawing a second circle inside the first, just outside her aureole.

“You bet you will. What is this anyway? Tit graffiti?”

I double-circled her other breast, then moved down to her belly button,  pressing hard into her as I raised my belly from hers. She squeezed me most deliciously as I circumscribed her innie.

“Nope. Targets.”

I looked up at her and wiggled one eyebrow before drawing a ’10’ above the big breast-circles, and ’20’ above the small ones.

“You’re a child, Leo.”

Belly button: ’20’

“A very happy one.”

“It’s going to take-” she had pause there as I pulled out of her,”forever to clean this off.”

“As if I -or you – won’t enjoy my scrubbing you sparkly clean.”

I drew a very bad circle around her cunt (’30’) – the contours down there are hard on a horny artist – but made a rather nice little semicircle around her clit (’50’). Like a one color rainbow. It wasn’t lost on either of us that she kept her legs nice and open for me while I worked.

“So, Mr. Carnival, how are you going to score this?

I took my cock in my hand. It wasn’t going to take long.

“First, I win. Then I pick my prize.”

I got 130 points.

And my prize was delicious. And noisy.

And later, in the shower, Dawn made sure all the lipstick got off my face, too.

Categories: Erotica, Humor, Monocle, QuickieTags: , , , , ,

Monocle

I am the little devil on your shoulder, stroking your neck with my tail, whispering obscenities into your ear, and looking down your blouse. One third of The Erotic Writer blog.

13 Comments

  1. Mystique

    “You bet you will. What is this anyway? Tit graffiti?”
    This could a good chuckle outta me.

    Come on, ‘fess up. You’ve done this before right, otherwise it’s an original story for me, loved it.

    PS: Welcome back ;)

  2. Marie

    I thought Dawn and Leo were the cutest couple, because they remind me of my guy and I. My guy would probably try this game on me if I showed him the story, because he loves playing around even when I want to have hot sex!

    • Monocle

      Excellent. I’m more than willing to create a tally for readers’ scores. Guys – many of ’em, anyway, have this competition thing going on, and this would be much more productive than measuring dick size. If enough people do this, maybe it _can_ become a carnival game. Note to self: See if I can contact any old carny friends. Note to self: Make old carny friends.

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