May 212010

She was a tomboy. Always played with the boys, and played as rough as the boys. But the day she showed up for touch football in a wife-beater sans bra….they looked at her a little different.

After the others had gone, they hooked up.

Right there on the field, in the dirt.



clothes-ripping fucking.

He was pleased to note that she fucked as roughly as she played football.

This post brought to you by:

“Your challenge for this Friday, 5-21-10, is to use the photo above to write a flash fiction of 52-72 words. As usual, nobody’s checking word counts, but you only cheat yourself if you break the rules. Unless you’re breaking them to earn a spanking….in which case, see me after class.”

Apr 232010

Ana’s challenge all semester has been her professor. To break his will. Make him break his rules. She’s sneaky about it, too. Today when she walked into the classroom, her skirt wasn’t quite that short. She lulled him into a sense of security, she let him see her come through the door in a fairly modest mid-thigh pleated skirt. She knew better and knew he wouldn’t allow her up at the chalkboard wearing something slutty, something tempting. So when he wasn’t looking she rolled up the waistband of her skirt to just the right (practiced) length. Just enough to show the tops of her thigh-highs….enough to show off her panties in the right circumstance.

When she spun around after finishing the equation, she caught him staring and blushing.

And as the class let out 15 minutes later…..

“Ana, may I speak with you please? Meet me in my office. Now.”

See who else is playing….

Dec 152009

I once had a lover who was a very wealthy man. The sort of showy wealth that would close down a restaurant with the flash of his cash just to have a private dinner. And he did just that, a few days before Christmas.

This restaurant had once upon a time been an old mansion, but now converted to beautiful place of business in wealthy part of the city. In order to add on more dining room space, an all glass “sun room” had  been added on to the back of the house. This room of the restaurant offered a beautiful view of the surrounding area and some privacy from busy bustle of the main dining room. Despite the fact that he had cleared out the place for the night, no patrons save for ourselves, he wanted us to eat back there. I soon saw why.

The glass ceiling was covered in white Christmas lights and there were two lit trees just outside, on each corner. Between the candle on our table and those lights, it was all that was needed for a romantic atmosphere and it provided enough light to see both inside and out into the night. Dinner was full of sumptuous food and sexy surprises. Namely, the coerced removal of my panties and then bra in between courses. He kept them on the table, neatly folded, he said they were too pretty to be stuffed in his pocket. Every time the waiter came to the table I blushed and couldn’t meet his gaze. Cause for even more blushing was how aroused I was soon after the waiter saw both bra and panties on the table. During dinner, my lover would occasionally feed me a bite of his food, sans fork, causing seductive finger-sucking-followed-by-quick-making-out scenes. As he fed me the final morsel of food this way, his hand pushed aside the fabric of my top to expose my breast for his fingers to better pinch my nipple. Soon he was pinching so hard that it hurt but it felt good but it hurt but ohhhhh fuck it felt good. In this moment of painful ecstasy, during which I could not speak, I caught sight of the waiter entering the room from behind my date. The moment his brain latched onto the scene and realized, he silently stopped in his tracks and stared. He stared, mouth open a little, for a few seconds that felt like minutes until he cleared his throat and approached the table.

My date, quite clearly, did not care. His hand did not snap back away from me nor did he make a move to prevent the waiter from seeing my bared breast. The waiter asked about dessert and finally the grip on my nipple was released but he made no move to cover me back up. I was still reeling from the lingering pain and did not hear the quick conversation about dessert.

The waiter cleared the table of all but our nearly-empty wine bottle and glasses and off he scurried. Oddly, he shut the door that led into the main dining room. As I looked questioningly at my date, he stood up and extended his hand for me to take. We walked over to the stand next to the glass, both looking out, him behind me. As his hands and arms wrapped around me we watched cars drive down the street. In a moment I felt his bare, cool hand on my ass, making its way down the cleft of cheeks. He chuckled at how wet I was. Then, as I watched our faint and flickering reflection in the glass, his hands began to lift up my shirt. I tried to stop him, I tried to protest that the waiter would be back soon, but all he said was “Don’t you worry about that” and off came my top. Off came my skirt. I stood naked in a softly lit room, with nothing between me and the outside world except thick panes of glass.

We kissed.

My hands blindly sought out his skin.

His hands, having no barrier, fluidly roamed my body.

My hands, restricted by his clothing, desperately yet weakly fought to get through.

His hands gripping my ass, he lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist.

My ass met the cold glass.

His lips found my nipples and I forgot about the cold. If a car were to drive by and the passengers were to look past the twinkling lights on the tree, they would have seen a naked woman’s rear end pressed against the glass wall.

Then he put me down and stepped towards the table, grabbing the wine bottle. He offered me a swig and then he polished off the rest. His eyes lit up as he held the empty bottle. Before I could ask what his intentions were I found myself bent forward with my ass tilted just so to him and my palms on the window. Before I could think I felt the neck of the wine bottle running along my slick cunt. And before I could catch my breath from the shock the bottle was gone and then back again and what the fuck was he…..

He was pushing the bottom end of the slender wine bottle inside of me. Stretching me. It went faster than and easier than I thought it would, the glass slicked up with my wetness.

In the restaurant, against the window he fucked me with that bottle. One hand, one cheek, one tit pressed against the glass, my other hand assaulting my clit, I came hard by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree outside.

Check out the other participants in this month’s Group Post, hosted by the lovely Kimberly:

Gray –
FG Sakes:
Salt and Pepper @
Barefoot Dreaming:

Nov 032009

When I’m driving long distances alone I either listen to music, or think. This trip I let my mind wander on its own.

It took an old, familiar route that day – a route I try not to go down willingly anymore. But so be it.

And the old, familiar throbbing and wetness between my legs followed quickly behind, enjoying this re-visit. I didn’t expect this, I tend not to of late. And so the trusty bullet vibrator that used to always have a home in my handbag was languishing in the toy drawer back at home. Little damn use to me, there, two hours away. Soon my lack of patience and my growing need dictated that my pulsing clit would not, could not be ignored.

I glanced around at the easy traffic on the winding four-lane suburban highway as I undid my jeans. But soon my hand was tired from the combined efforts of rubbing tights circles and pushing space in my snug jeans. It’s not an easy feat to push one’s panties and jeans down ass and hips while driving, but I did it. My long shirt covered my tummy and cunt but patches of pale skin was visible at my hips and the tops of my thighs, should a passing motorist of the correct height happen to glance over and inside my car.

I discretely but roughly rubbed tight circles around my clit, through a slickness that isn’t common. I kept feeling the nearness of orgasm but couldn’t quite tip over the edge. I passed the first of a long stretch of scattered-about “adult stores” and wondered if they carried a suitable bullet vibrator. But I didn’t even slow down, I didn’t even give it a second thought.

Until the next seedy store. By which point my frustration and need had ratcheted up another notch. They boasted videos and viewing booths, though, so I didn’t even slow down.

By the third store I lost my nerve and thought that surely I could wait for home.

When I saw the signs for the fourth store, though, I once again considered it with more weight. My middle finger was pruney from its extended soak in my wetness. My chest and face were flushed, my brow knitted in this look of begging mixed with frustration. I kept the pleasure level at a steady 8 and 9 but I couldn’t get to 10.

I lost my nerve when I saw the fifth store because it just looked too busy with pickup trucks and dirty older cars.

The sixth and final store. Now or never. Or at least another 90 minutes which felt like forever. It looked empty, boasted a wide selection of items and looked only moderately seedy. I pulled into the lot. I got out of my car and through the door as quickly as possible before I lost my nerve or too many people passing by saw me. It took me a minute to find my way to the two aisles of sex toys, and another minute to do a visual scan for my necessary aide. I saw only unknown crap brands but picked up two that looked like they might work. I grabbed a 4-pack of AA batteries and went to the counter. Unlike my last experience, long ago, with this sort of store the guy behind the counter wasn’t scary. He wasn’t intimidating or creepy. In fact he was fairly normal, under 40 and average looking. He stared at my purchases for a moment – or was he staring at my fingers, which I just now realized probably still smelled of pussy juice and looked like I’d been in a bathtub too long  – and then asked if I was buying them both. I paused before I answered “Yes….unless I can put batteries in them both and see which one is better”. I didn’t expect him to agree but he did.

With fumbling fingers under a watchful gaze I slid the cardboard backing from the plastic bubbles to extract the vibrators. I put the batteries in them both at the same time, turned them on and found a clear winner in the “vibration intensity” category. I put the lesser one back in its packaging and told him I’d be buying the other one. With a teasing look he said “Gonna wear this one home are ya? Want me to just toss the packaging out?”. I blushed and finally looked him in the eye and confirmed that yes, I’d be using that one momentarily. He didn’t move to ring my purchases up so I prompted him with “that’s all I need, thanks”.

“If you use it right here, right now, I won’t charge you for any of it” he said.

My mouth open, I didn’t have a response right away. I waited for him to carry on with ringing me out, assuming he was joking, but he just waited for an answer.

“No way in hell am I getting naked or partially naked for you, can I just buy these please?”

“This looks small, has a cord….you don’t need to show any skin at all.” If he had said this with a leer I would have left. But he kept with that half-serious half-teasing attitude until my guard dropped.

I looked around the store, saw only one guy trying to hide towards the back and not be recognized.

“Where?” I asked.

He nodded at the counter, pushed some displays aside and said “Here”.

Fine. What the hell, right? I didn’t live in this area and sure as hell would never return here. I hoisted my butt up onto the counter and, bullet in hand, I laid back. Hand down my pants, the bullet found its home and I turned it on high. I gasped as the vibrator woke up my clit. I closed my eyes and let my mind go back from whence it came as I ground the buzzing bullet to my clit in slick circles. I was intent on coming as quickly as possible. It felt like forever but was likely just mere minutes until I felt the certainty of orgasm approaching.  As soon as I was safely “there” and my climax crested I slowly opened my eyes. I couldn’t focus through my haze but I could tell that both men had been watching. I tried to tone it down as much as possible but I couldn’t prevent the involuntary rapid breathing, little  moans and spasms of my body. It was another minute before I regained my senses enough to fully remember what the situation was; when the clarity hit I silently removed the bullet, zipped up my jeans and hopped off the counter. When I glanced at the guy who worked there I could see he was still grinning but my bravery was gone…..and so was I.

Oct 302009

I’ve decided to try out this weekly thing called Flash Friday Fiction, where you write a post based on the photo provided that is 100 words. I just couldn’t keep it at 100 words, I tried but couldn’t get my mind’s vision down to just 100 words. Click on the banner to join in or see what others’ takes were on this photo!



I saw her last Halloween in my neighbor’s window. Naked and beautiful, only a whisper of presence. She looked at me; once she knew she had an audience she touched herself seductively. But she was gone soon; I thought perhaps I imagined it.

This year she proved me wrong. This year she was in MY house. I watched, aroused, as she continued her show from last year. Floating mid-air, reclining as if she were on a bed, she began to masturbate for me. As her pace increased she became more opaque; she glowed. Her silent climax ended with a burst of light and heat.

I couldn’t see her anymore but I still felt her presence. I disrobed and mimicked her actions. As I climbed to my own orgasm I felt her – cool purposeful caresses across my breasts and cunt. As I climaxed I could swear I felt the pressure of a another person on me and in me.

May 252009

Over the next two weeks, I slowly divulged to Sarah more and more tidbits of my kinks and my personal exposure to them. Gauging her reaction via text was difficult but manageable. Her only exposure to “my world” was the occasional blindfold for a bit of  teasing sensual foreplay. About as vanilla as a blindfold can get.

The day came when I knew I could accelerate things – there were no subtle signs, no, she opened the door and it was loud and clear. I had just fulfilled a picture request for R. I told her about it and she teasingly asked if she could see it. It was just my tits so I texted it to her phone. I didn’t hear back from her right away, in fact 10 minutes went by.

And then….

Her response is a photo of her own tits. A mimic of the picture I sent to R. Taken just then, just for me. The accompanying text read:

Your pic made my head spin and my mouth water. I hope I have returned the favor, even if in a small way.

Oh hell. It had, perhaps, a greater effect than she imagined. I knew she’d look this good but I did not anticipate the immediate carnal reaction I would have. Creamy pale and lightly freckled skin, full C-cup size, pale pink and slightly puffy areola and a little darker pink nipple. Tiny pink peaks. My clit throbbed and I subconsciously touched a finger to my lips and then slipped the finger inside my mouth a bit; my need to lick and suck her was immediate and visceral. I actually sat there for a minute and pondered if there was a way, a place, somewhere somehow I could get her naked breast and my mouth to meet pronto. Sadly nothing came to mind except my need to sate my pent-up lust – my own hand would have to do. I quickly texted a response, a casual statement of her beauty, and then I made a beeline for my favorite jerk-off restroom. I smiled at her on my way past her desk. She texted back, asking where I was going, but I didn’t answer her. Not yet.

I propped my phone up in the stall, hoping it would not fall, so that I could stare at her hands-free. Leaving both hands free for masturbating to a relatively quick orgasm in 5 minutes.

As I walked back by her desk she looked at me quizzically. Again, a near-immediate text.

Where did you go? And why are your cheeks so flushed?

And so I told her, via email. I told her that I ran off to masturbate in the restroom and all because of one little pic from her. I told her all the dirty things I wanted to do to her, all the kinky things. Things I would do with my lips and tongue and teeth; with my fingers and the palm of my hand and my fist. I told her that I wanted to claim her, make her mine if only for brief glimpses. Have her under my control.

I am stunned, speechless, and in awe of your daring. Stunned and speechless that my photo caused that reaction. Clearly I am not as brave as you, because it didn’t even occur to me to attempt that even though my reaction to your own photo was equally amazing. And even if it had been mild, the reaction caused by your words has done it. I am incredibly horny, most certainly shockingly wet and would kill for a good O right now. Everything you said, everything you want from me and to do to me, yes yes PLEASE! Just be gentle and patient, Mistress ;)

and then:

Oh god, I’m sorry, I hope I wasn’t being too cheesy and naive there. “Mistress” just flew out from my fingers and I hit ‘send” before I fully realized it.

I thought for a minute, but only a minute. I had to test her. I replied in short order:

When it is warranted, Mistress will do just fine. So you’re horny, eh? Why wait? I want you to go down to the 8th floor restroom, the one that’s in the corner of the east hallway. It is not used very often, it’s where I go. Use the handicapped stall at the very end of the row. I want you to go do what I just did. I want you to come for me. That’s an order, Sarah. No reply, just go, NOW.

After one minute, I followed her. I snuck into the restroom as quietly as possible. Practically held my breath as I slowly crept towards that last stall. I stood where I knew she couldn’t see my feet, and I listened.

I grinned and silently swooned. I heard that unmistakable sound, the wet rubbing sound, of a girl getting off.

I planted my feet where I was and leaned forward with my upper body, until one eye was looking into the crack between the door and stall wall. She had her pants down, but had only pushed her panties to the side, so my view was partially obstructed, but it was still insanely sexy. I didn’t want to break her obvious concentration so I leaned back, backed up a few feet and just waited on her. I strained my ears listening to the barely-there sounds of her fingers rubbing her swollen clit, getting faster. Then the sound of what seemed like a long exhale, probably from her holding her breath. In that exhale I swear I could hear her whisper something but I don’t know what. Despite my own recent orgasm I was aching and dying to come again.

I waited a few moments and then cleared my throat.

“Sarah, open the door, now.”

She didn’t say anything but I heard the rustle of her rearranging her clothes and then the sound of the latch opening. I pushed it open impatiently and relished the look on her face for a brief moment. It was this delicious combination of startled and embarrassed and aroused and sated and orgasm-happy yet apprehensive. I bit my lip, smirked, and in one rapid move I shoved her against the bathroom wall. I gripped the neckline of her top and pulled both it and her bra cup down in tandem and quickly, ravenously, moved my lips to her exposed nipple.

I had been wanting to do that for what felt like forever.

The moment we returned to our desks, I sent off a quick email:

From now on when I order you to masturbate in the restroom like that, you are to do it with your legs spread wide apart and panties pooled at your ankles. None of that demure crap you just pulled…..