- We were sitting in the bar, attempting to grab food before more important things. I had my nose buried in my laptop, trying to finish work before the weekend, when I noticed the waitress eyeing you.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she stood at the bar with her friends, peeking at you. I admired the view as much as you when she strutted by on her way to other tables. Perfect little apple cheeks. The important ones, of course. Long straight hair brushed the top of them, waving back and forth in time with her pendulum hips. Apples indeed...ripe for a bite.
"Scrumptious, isn't he?" I asked with a conspiratorial wink when she brought our food.
Blushing, she dropped my plate the last 3 inches and ran. Literally.
I snickered. Why is it that girls assume the worst?
You sighed. Long suffering. Knowing I'll have my fun, and it knowing it will be worth it for you to wait. Patiently.
Knowing your part, you leave quickly, giving the waitress your best come hither look as you gracefully exit stage left.
I sit at the table. Waiting. Patiently.
Eventually she comes round again, no pendulum hips this time, but a subdued and unenthusiastic saunter, knowing that leaving the check was going to be an unpleasant prospect.
I have the bills waiting for her, and stand up quickly as she stops, surprising her.
"He is scrumptious, you know. All over." I pause, but not long; she's very close to fleeing my grasp. "You are to, darling. Quite...delectable. You know, I have quite a little thing for watching him take luscious little things like you up to my office. I think I'll find it quite enjoyable to watch your heavenly little face writhe in ecstasy on the cold hard wood, watching the city lights play over both your faces, knowing anyone looking up would find the view just as erotic as I do"
I leaned forward, watching her face the whole time. She grew pale, then flushed. Her breath came quicker, and her plump little lip got caught on one white white tooth. As I went on, I lowered my face slowly to her ear
"And after you can't take it anymore, and you've collapsed onto that cold desk, grateful for the support, knowing those long legs won't hold you up...then I'll come up behind you. He will watch as I kiss those back of those adorable knees. Up those long, smooth thighs, to that candy apple ass. I might have to take a nibble there, you know. I'm sure you won't mind, would you? After all, how are you going to stop me? Then up to those delightful hips...they are quite perfect, you do know that, don't you? I'm sure I'll be able to convince you to turn over, let me stick my hot tongue in that angelic little belly button, won't I? And up to those hard, hot nipples, so glad of the warmth of my mouth after that hard desk? And oh, I'm going to cover this graceful, smooth neck, and I think I'll end up right..." I flicked my tongue out over her earlobe "Here."
Abruptly, I straighted, and stepped back. Reaching around her, I grabbed my purse, pulled out my phone, and looked at her expectantly.
"May I have your number?"
- Why is it that men who perceive themselves as dominant think that they need to prove this dominance to everyone around them by treating women as if they are too stupid to chew their own food, and then assume that this is a turn-on to any and everyone? Yeah. It is for some women. Hell, if I knew them, it might even be for me, but some random stranger approaching me and attempting to order me around like some little slave-slut is going to get the proverbial boot up the ass (or would, if it were in person...why hasn't someone invented a computer that will slap someone upside the head when they're being stupid?)
- A man walks up to a woman, wraps his arms around her, and lowers his mouth to her neck. He lets his hot breath play over her tender skin as one hand slips down over the curve of her ass, and the other comes up to cup her head, fingers threading through her hair. He raises his mouth to her ear.
"I need you"
- I'm all about pictures lately, so I had to share another. This is joining my Evil My Little Pony in the running for my next tattoo. The artist, Greg Martin, is probably my favorite artist, and the sinister and alien beauty of it just makes me quiver. Well, maybe not quiver, but I do love it.
- Well, a couple of my stories have been posted on Literotica. I'm hoping to get some feedback, so if you got here after reading one of my stories, please, let me know what you think!
Life is getting better, waiting for His mother to come to town, then away with the sex-repressing pills!!! I can't wait, though the past couple of days have been good, wonderful hot sex first thing in the morning, great way to start the day (or in my case, end it). It's nice to know that my sex drive is still there, it just needs a bit of jump starting!
Anyway, thanks for being patient with me.
- Wow, who knew you could have a mid-life crisis so early? I think I had mine already. And, I think it might be over. Here's hoping.
I've made a few changes (including taking out two piercings, one a nipple ring), and have made an appt to get on different happy pills (I'd rather be sad and have an interest in sex again, thank you very much!), and things seem to be brightening up again.
Hopefully I'll be back to posting soon (I know, I say that a lot)
So, I'll leave you with some pics of Jennifer Ellison, the incredibly hot Meg from the Phantom of the Opera
- I lay on the edge of the bed, naked, knees pulled up and spread, waiting. A shiver broke over me, leaving goosebumps and hard nipples in its wake.
After what seemed an eternity, He came into the room, closing the door lightly behind him. His hands were full, and the small bowl and washcloth made me wince. He set them down on the dresser, next to a razor and shaving cream, before turning to look admiringly at me. I couldn't help but bite my lip, a mixture of dread and excitement filling me. The thought of letting a man, hell, any other person, use a razor on me, much less on such a delicate part, was rather frightening.
He took his time dribbling warm water over me and lathering up, fingers occasionally slipping and rubbing bare skin that obviously didn't need lather. I kept my eyes closed, trying to master my discomfort. Once his fingers disappeared from me, I took a deep breath and held it.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded, not able to voice my agreement.
The first, hesitant stroke removed approximately three hairs. I blinked down at him in surprise. "That tickles!"
He threw me a small grin, and gestured me to lay down again, and started in earnest. Long smooth strokes, frequently water laden, had me nice and warm in moments. Wandering fingers mixed with the threat of the steel had me fighting to keep still. Occasional taps on my hood ring or fingers up the ass, however, broke through my determination.
When he finally declared that he was finished, my hands immediately reached to feel. I protested as soon as he batted them away, but received only an evil glare as an answer. I frowned back, then groaned as he brought out the camera.
No immediate picture was taken, he just turned it on, and set it on his lap. After washing all the spare lather off, he slowly bent down, and flicked my clit with the tip of his tongue before transferring his attention outward, long slow licks up and down, warm, hot, wet. My moans brought no response, but my hands, sliding over his head, encouraged him to latch onto my clit, sucking it into his mouth and nibbling it while sliding a finger into my pussy. This little bit of heaven ended much to soon as he sat up and grabbed the camera.
Before I totally registered the loss of his mouth, I hear the click of the awful camera, popping my photographic cherry before I could even protest.