The Midnight Cafe

2007-01-23T22:37:00.000-08:00

Gotta take that call, huh?

Consider me as a diversion instead of doodling while you finish up your business. That's right, a hand on the small of my back flips me over the couch, and I'll stay there, obedient while you run your hands down to my ass, over my thighs, up my skirt. I balance on the tips of my toes while you explore the line where my panties hug my curves, and then rudely move them aside, caress my hot wet mound as I writhe against your fingers, trying to be quiet, and then my little moans as you start to fuck me with them. the tone of your voice doesn't change as you plunge in. I can feel you looking at me, loving it as I arch my back and spread my legs, as you play my G spot and up the ante with two fingers, watching me pleasure myself on them, slamming me expertly, giving nothing away. Oh, God this is so good, being used, being played with, being taken. You're already on top without even trying when you hang up the phone and growl in my ear. "Making some noise?"

"I tried to be quiet.."I say, and my voice comes out like a little girl's who's about to get punished. You work your fingers through me, almost clinically. "That is some wet pussy there. You are one fine piece of ass, you know that?"

I hope so.

2006-12-27T21:00:00.000-08:00

When does size matter?

When you have a five inch tongue.

One look at you and it's clear you're a pussy eater. You like it, you grow your little goatee in preparation for it, and you have the full and sensuous lips of an Italian with a thirst.

I let you look at me for a while, though. I moved slowly around your apartment, looking at your things. You made me a drink, I asked if you had any tattoos. We got high, I went outside for some air, making sure you could see me leaning up against the railing, my black lace dress starting to rise over my very pale ass. You rewarded me with a pinch. A lot of men would have started some caressing there. You were waiting for me to make the move.

So I did. I came dressed like a whore today, knowing what I want, but as we discussed in the kitchen, it's a gift. Free for you and for me. And so I came down to use the bathroom, took off my coat, and now here I am in the bedroom, you see. Ready for you to eat my pussy. I wore no stockings on this winter day precisely for this reason. You have this great chair, right next to your bed. The feng shui of sex.

I arrange myself in your chair, the leather cold on my ass, legs slightly spread in black boots, and wait. You sit on the bed.

"You're such a tease," you say, with that hint of a drawl. "You don't have to tease me, you know. But I like it." I respond obediently, spreading further for you, moving my dress up my legs so you can see my black satin panties, propping my feet on your bed. I begin to play with the outside of my panties. I keep eye contact. "Oh, God. I love watching you play with yourself."

I move the panties aside now, showing you how I like it, spreading the wetness out of the hole and onto my moist clit. "Mm, you're making me hungry. I'm about to get the munchies."

And you roll your stocky little self over, turn your baseball hat backwards and pull me forward in the leather chair. The warmth of your tongue instantly envelops my pussy from top to hole.

Oh wow. "Mm, yeah, baby. Eat my pussy. Oh, god."

They say it's not size, but oh man. You are all over the place. There is nothing tentative about you, using the upper end of it to stroke my clit while you literally fuck my hole with your lower lip. My clit is literally drenched in your warmth. You're hitting everywhere at once, and unlike some boys, I don't have to pull you in. Yeah. Fuck my pussy with your tongue. I love the way it feels. I love how you're so close to my ass but not giving it any attention.

I got my hands on your head and I'm turned on by how slutty this is- a little high, windy afternoon, and you're giving it to me so good without even using your fingers yet. I come once, a torrent of yes, babys and eat mes, and as I start to peak again, you pull back and I call you another name as you ride my tease.

You start to work in more tricks now, beginning with your fingers, which feels so good, while the most incredible angles rain from your tongue and I come again, and again.

I close my legs then, briefly, and I can feel it pulsing, and throbbing. And that's when you show me your tongue. Long, like a snake or a lizard. But big. Flexible.

I think I blush. Even after how slutty I've been. And I'm still wearing all my clothes.

Oh, yeah, you'll play with my tits, even suck on them. Do some great work with your fingers and tongue until I lose count, until I'm making these indescribable noises, lost in myself. You know how to use a girl's panties against her. In fact, as we tangle on the bed, I can barely connect what I saw in your mouth to what's happening to my pussy, so complete is the attention.

But wow. That is some tongue, cowboy.

2006-11-18T17:56:00.000-08:00

The last man I loved was a boy at heart. He would stop in the street to stare at stuff, into display windows. Once stood stock still watching a spider spin his web in a parking garage. Kissed me in my car, in my workplace, in dark corners, but never in my house.

Chewed tobacco even though he knew it was a nasty habit. Tried to fast but snuck candy. Was unabashedly sexy.

Flirted with every woman he met. Stared at women in the street. Openly made comments about them in front of me. Got distracted by my breasts. Could not take his advances spurned. Gave my neck more attention than it had had in years. Spit my words back at me.

Was so sensitive I could turn him on in about five seconds flat. He felt guilty about that. I never did.

Ate my pussy at midnight in a walkway where a bank met a parking lot four blocks from his house. Walked me past a park he didn't like the look of because he was worried about my safety. Could not hold his liquor.

Had read HOW TO WIN FRIENDS AND INFLUENCE PEOPLE at a young age. Used it all the time to make people like him.

Was a great kisser. Liked it rough. Made up rules for himself. Hurt me, left a mark, lied about it. Caused me more pain than any man ever has. Physically, and emotionally. Could not own it. I would have done anything for him. I still would. He knew it. He could do nothing for me.

Could not communicate directly. Said no when he meant yes. Said yes when he meant no. Had really trashy taste in music, but was a completely educated professional.

Was successful but scared. Sensitive, but a total asshole. Cheerful, but hostile. Had a great sense of humor. Was an adrenaline junkie. Loved how smart I was. Never lied to me. Never led me on.

Was married to someone else.

We had no chance in hell.

One day I'll love again.

2006-10-01T22:35:00.000-07:00

I love the spa in this hotel because of one thing. The black chicks. They sit around waiting for their services in these white terry robes, their dark skin shining, freshly showered, jewelry gleaming on their wrists. As a silent white girl among them I can only think about what's underneath those robes, how much I would love for them to interrupt their tea party and pass me around. I want to be mistaken for the help.

"Excuse me, is there more hot water? No?"

"The girl who was just here said she was bringing more biscuits."

I can imagine the fleshy one on the end exchanging a quiet glance with the one next to her, her skin the color of caramel as she tells me I'm not fooling anyone.

"Oh, you don't work here, do you?" I shake my head. "Well, then what are you looking at?" No answer.

" Alright, girl, come on down here. Sit by my feet."

Two claps and a point, like training a puppy in my little short white robe. I'm on my knees in front of her as the other ladies laugh. One puts her foot on my back.

"Let me look at you." She strokes my face with one long, black finger, ending on my lips, probing my mouth. She loosens the belt of the robe and lets it open, and her neatly trimmed dark bush beckons from between round, fleshy thighs. "This is what you want, right?" I nod, quickly, and she takes my face in one hand. "Do you really deserve it?" I shake my head. She slaps me hard.

"Don't be rude. Use words. Do you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Better. Now, I would be sending you out of here with your tail between your legs, but I like your mouth, and I want to see if you can put it to some use. Go ahead now. Let me see what you can do."

She leans back slightly, her mouth open, her pussy gleaming in front of me. I hear another woman murmur,"Go on, you little white bitch."

I tentatively begin to lick her pussy. It smells strong and fragrant, and I start slow. She's incredibly wet and seems to want me to go hard and fast. "Spread me wide, that's right. Get on in there." I slide my hands under her fat, fleshy ass cheeks and suck on her clit. Behind me, I feel hands and fingers, stripping off my robe, raking nails down my back, grabbing my ass and lifting it up. Voices behind me, "Mm, yeah, why don't you move that ass around for us." She pulls my head in harder. "That's right, lick that pussy. Uh-hum. Mmm. Fuck yeah. Fuck me with that tongue. I've got her fast and hard now, my tongue stiff and loving her hole as she lifts up, grinding into my face, her hands on the couch. I'm matching the rhythmn of her hips as she gets off on me, finally bumping and grinding herself into coming in my mouth. "Fuck yeah, bitch, that is so good." She holds my mouth in place and puts a finger to open it as her juices start to flow and she squirts in my mouth, a stream of girlcum running down my chin, more than I bargained for but so hot.

She smiles cooly at me. "Wipe your mouth."

I do. "Mm that was so hot honey, I bet you wish you were done."

"No ma'am."

"I like your honesty. My friend here wants a piece of what she just saw, and I'm sure you can make her happy, can't you baby?"

The next woman is darker, with short close cropped hair, a little more athletic, but with a nice round ass, which she spreads for me, bending over the couch. "Lick my asshole, there's a good girl. Clean it up real good."

It is very clean already. I get busy though, because her ass is beautiful, and I love running my hands up and down her thighs. Slow kisses, massaging her cheeks, and then teasing the crack of her ass with my tongue. She's loving the slowness of my strokes, my hot breath on her flesh, as I start to open her up in circles with the tip. "Mmm, yeah." I can see her fingers playing with her own shaved pussy, sinking into the folds as I slowly lap at her glory hole. She is expert at her own pleasure, moaning low, her face in the couch while I slurp on her delicious flesh. She feeds me her cream and I suck it off her fingers and she comes in a wave, me surfing the top with the tip of my tongue.

The Queen Bee is gentle with me. "One more? Yes."

They set this girl up in front of me, my favorite, little and round and with a hairy bush and nice tits. They pull her hands back over her head and tie them with a belt and loop it over this nice hook that may have held a plant at one point and somebody brings out a strap on, the kind you can control with your head. She puts one foot up on the couch and they take turns now, because they are pouring sweet tea down her body, all over her tits and pussy, and I am to lick it off. She is quiet, but her flesh stands on end as my mouth slides over her, the tea pouring down on me, in my hair, everywhere. They fit the strapon onto my face and I start to fuck her, slow strokes at first, but deep, because I can just lick when I'm up inside. I turn the cock, screwing it from side to side and she winds on it, grinding and grooving to my strokes, her breath escaping in little short gasps, her eyes so wide, riding my face. They change her position so she's sitting on my face now and I keep fucking her, surrounded by her scent, trapped in it, as her silence turns to moans and then little screams until she screeches across my face and into her climax, my mouth and head nothing but cock, her pussy everywhere, such a lovely afternoon...

2006-09-30T23:32:00.000-07:00

The amazing thing about New York City is the noise. From way up high, the city never sleeps. The traffic buzzes through the streets like so many bees, heavy on the taxis, a bold rush.

We just got back from the theatre, the fast cab, and we're starting to get tipsy from the vodka tonics. It's so late, and my feet are sore, but I haven't undressed yet because I know what's coming and I want it. The silence has settled, comfortable- we picked the show apart, all the performances, nuances and design, and now you're watching me like you do. I can feel your eyes burning into me as you change the music on the ipod and set down your drink.

I'm standing, my back to you, pressed up against the window of the hotel room, looking out, my tits cold against the glass, watching the traffic, listening, when I feel your hand around my neck, covering my mouth. I bite your fingers, then lick, as your other hand moves to my hair, pulling just a little bit. You kiss my neck, gentle, I can feel your breath, hovering. My nipples peak slightly against my shirt as you bite me. You don't care if you leave a mark, you never did. Insistent bites, nuzzling my neck, my hair, your hands moving around me, to my waist, caressing my belly, grinding your cock into the crack of my ass. One hand caressing the backs of my thighs, your nails raking up my ass cheeks and spreading them apart as you stroke your cock against the back of my silk thong, up against my skirt, one hand holding me up as I balance in my heels, my pussy getting so wet. And then your mouth, moving down my back as your hands swiftly turn me to face you, my back against the glass, as you lift my skirt and slide down my body, pushing my bra up to cup and squeeze my tits, hard so it hurts, tweaking the nipples, leaving my shirt up, my tits swollen and exposed for you. You spread the lips of my pussy with your fingers, looking up at me with that look of pure hunger.

"Say my name, bitch. I want to hear it. Make some noise for me. "

And then your tongue on my clit as you open me up, your hands on my ass as I spread my pussy for you. Eating me, licking my clit and nibbling on it. God so good. as I moan against you. You pull back.

"Show it to me. Show me what you do when you're thinking about me."

My fingers sweep my clit so slowly for you, smooth hard strokes up down, up down and all I want is for you to put your mouth back there but you're looking at it as I finger myself, looking at my thighs with my skirt hiked up.

"Mm mm mm," you say in that scoldy way.

God I want you to call me all sorts of names right now. But you just tell me again that that's the fucking hottest thing you've ever seen.

And then your hands go back on my ass as you start to fuck me with your mouth, with your fingers, and I have my hands in your hair and I can feel the oil on your skin and I just keep smoothing your forehead while you're eating me. Up against the glass, they can see from across the street and the light is on, and then you're up against me, still standing as I wrap a leg around you and your cock teases my hot wet pussy that I keep so tight for you and as you grind me, your hands work around to the back and now you've got me by both wrists and it hurts, pulling my shoulders back, my tits out. With a moment like wildfire you've cut the cord off the venetian blind and they fall in a cascade as you bind my wrists and toss me on the bed.

And as always, you look at me as you come in and start to fuck me hard, biting my tongue and teasing my mouth and torturing my already sore nipples and plundering my ass and you're still there saying,

"Come on, say my name. "

Three little letters. I scream them. You slam into me hard and I take it, all of it, every inch of the plow, you deep inside this ring of desire. You fuck me until you're exhausted, until my pussy clenches around your cock in helpless climax, until you shoot it all up into me and lay on top of me, spent. I want to feed you until you're full. You think you'll never be satisfied but you could be. You fuck me until you can't fuck anymore.

2006-09-15T23:11:00.000-07:00

Burn this.

I miss sucking your cock.

I miss the way you smell. I miss the way you dig in your ear when you think no one is watching. The way you carefully adjust your hair, which is so easy to mess up. The way you hold a knife and the way you lace your boots. I miss watching you from across the room while you put on your makeup. I miss your tobacco.

I miss the way you got so good at kissing me even though it was often a surprise, and all your little products and routines. I miss putting my hand in your shorts in the bathroom while you were washing your face. I miss running lines with you, because it was the closest we ever got to snuggling. I miss how tight you held my wrist because you knew I liked it. And I miss all those times in the dark that were the closest we ever got to fucking.

Oh, I know this is too emotional for you. It's too emotional for me. But it's not hurting anybody, tiger. I won't put it to the test if you won't.

I miss how you would back up against me before going onstage and would pinch me and usually not care where. I miss when you'd accidentally get tender and open with me. I miss the time we both started singing Proud Mary and every time we burst into song and all the stuff we talked about that noone else got. I miss your hands on my tits.

I miss watching you flirt your way to fame. I miss your arrogance and your little man bag. I miss giving you presents. I miss being part of your secret life. I miss stroking your naked back from the neck to the ass with my hand.

I miss chasing you down the street. I miss calling and getting your outgoing message and not leaving a message.

I miss the literary references. I miss your dirty jokes and your complete incredulity at things many people take for granted. I miss how you would stop like a child in the street just to look at things. Your awe at the spider. The way you'd tell me to fuck off.

I miss so much more than just how easy you are to turn on. Your crassness, your inattention, your brutal brutal honesty and your brutal little lies. I miss how you're like a display case that needs a crowbar. I miss the crowbar.

I miss being called Killer.

2006-09-13T21:06:00.000-07:00

Wanna hear it?

Go to www.sonicerotica.com and download the mp3 of "A Little Correction", the story that started The Midnight Cafe!

2006-09-13T01:08:00.000-07:00

Jungle Fever. A played out term for a hot night.

A girl's gotta have her priorities. Your black skin, muscular body and huge cock are standard issue. But smart, professionally employed and single? Check check check. And nice car. You look good getting out of it. With my very delicate, very pale skin, and soft curves, we're going to look great getting it on. Your hardness, my softness. We're going to look like dessert. I wish there was a mirror in my room.

You're friendly, too, and your shoes are so clean! As we walk up to my door, I ask you if you're nervous. "Nah," you say. "Are you?" "A little," I say.

You have expensive taste in vodka...luckily I have your brand on hand. I watch you looking around my apartment as I make you a drink.

Your hand's on my shoulder while we drink and talk. You start just gently stroking it, then put your drink down. "Still nervous?" you say. I put your fingers in my mouth. You watch me.

"Why don't you put that somewhere else?" you say.
"It hasn't been half an hour yet," I say.
"Let me suck those tits for you," you say.

We don't kiss. Instead, we keep it friendly. You move one side of my lowcut shirt down with your hand, and start sucking on my tits. Gentle, but firm. Your dark mouth on my soft white voluptuousness is beautiful to watch. You smell good. Your hand moves to my pussy, sliding under my jean skirt and pulling aside my black lace panties. Your fingers are strong, confident, as is your voice as you make your next desire clear.

"Come on, little slut, come on. Come for me. Come on my finger. That's right, slut, you like that?" Come right on my finger. No, don't fake it, bitch. Come now. "

For a moment I panic. What if I can't? You'll know. This guy will know. Smart guys do.

"Come on." You continue to urge, and my moans escalate. You are definitely driving this train. Oh yeah. I let go, and come like you want. I'm shocked at myself.

But I don't have that much time, because you are very firmly guiding me to my knees. Standing, you unzip your pants. I am kneeling in front of a fantasy, a huge, hard, very dark cock standing up nice and firm against cut, tight abs. Yum. I don't need encouragement to start in on it.

It's thick, very clean. I want to spend more time working it with my tongue, licking your head and your balls. But you have a deep need for deep throat, and you're nasty and demanding about it, talking me through it as you gag me with it. "Come on. That's right. Suck that shit."

White guys never call it shit.

"Open up. Open up. Open up for me, you little slut." You trap my hands and fuck my mouth as tears come to my eyes. Gentleman you are, though, you back off.

"Wanna move to the bedroom?" I ask. "Yeah," you say. You sit on the bed and I continue sucking on it, on my knees. You're working my throat deep, and it's challenging, and it hurts, and it's really turning me on. Finally you pull me up from my knees and turn me onto the bed like a pancake, my ass up in the air, taking my panties down, moving up my skirt. I am on my hands and knees so I don't see you whip out the Trojan Magnum. You got style, baby. All I feel is your hands on my ass as you slide your cock into my pussy for round one.

You are an athletic, precise fuck. I feel like a queen with your cock inside me, especially the way you're taking me. I love being slammed doggie style.

"You like that black dick, you little slut?" Yes I do. And I like that you're willing to mention it. You push me down harder, still inside. Your hands trap my wrists, your mouth on the back of my neck "Come on, wind on my dick now. Come on it. That's right." I squirm and squirm. God yes.

Your fingers caress the tip of my ass, slowly circling the hole as you fuck me, still talking dirty. Then one finger. Oh yeah I love being opened up two ways at once. Moaning now. Other hand grabbing me by the hair.

Now you're pulling out and I can feel the lube squirting down my asshole. Your finger moving from one to two. You work me slowly, opening me up for it as I push against your finger like a good girl, knowing if I go at just the right speed you're going to put a big black cock up my tight white ass and it's going to feel amazing. We open together in silence for a while and then you start with the tip. In a bit, then out, and then it starts to hurt, and you back off, listening, your hand soft on my shoulder. Then in, focused on it, focused on how good it's going to be to work you up there. More. slow. Pushing gently, past the pain, into it. Yeah. Oh yeah. Fuck yeah.

We start to move faster. You're fucking my ass and I'm loving it. "You're a slut for black dick now," you say. "You have a big black dick up your ass and you love it, don't you." Fuck yeah. I tell you how much.

Later you'll slide between my tits and shoot all over my mouth and I'll lick the come off your cock and smooth the rest into my skin and we'll laugh about how French women use it as face cream. But right now...

My moaning, loud. So loud. The windows open. The white girl getting it on with the black stud. In the ass. There goes the neighborhood.

2006-09-12T21:22:00.000-07:00

Mmm, whatcha listening to?

Baby, can’t you see
I’m calling
A guy like you
Should wear a warning
It’s dangerous
I’m fallin’

I love turning you on. I love how fast I can get you hard. Let me do it. My hand slides right into your shorts. You're up in like two strokes. Surrender to it, baby, let me work your cock.

There’s no escape
I can’t wait
I need a hint
Baby, give me it
You’re dangerous
I’m lovin’ it

Let me do you. Let me take you over. Kiss me hard and let your hands wander.

Too high
Can’t come down
Losing my head
Spinning ‘round and ‘round
Do you feel me now

Your mouth on my neck is so good. Kissing, biting. Your breath. You know how to touch me. Let it go. Pull my shirt up, my bra. Your mouth on my nipples. Suck them. Oh, your teeth. God, yes.

With a taste of your lips
I’m on a ride
You're toxic I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I’m addicted to you
Don’t you know that you’re toxic
And I love what you do
Don’t you know that you’re toxic

Oh, your hand on my ass, moving to pull my panties aside, sliding a finger into my pussy. Two. Don't stop, don't stop yourself, don't stop me. You're so hot. Your body is so amazing. No one can see us now, at last. No one's really waiting, not for a while. Lick it off your fingers. Spread my legs. Move down and taste me.

It’s getting late
To give you up
I took a sip
From my devil's cup
Slowly
It’s taking over me

Eat me. In the light, so you can see me, so you can see what you're doing, so you can see my clit as you swirl your tongue on it. Smell it. So soft. You don't hurt me when you're down here, you can't. Lick me. Yes, like that. Devour me. Fuck me so gently with your fingers as my legs spread for you. I want to watch you do it. I want to see your tongue on my pussy. Look at me for a second. You like it so much and it's so hot. Make me come, now, for you. Yes. I'm scared to come for you, but make me. Eat my pussy until I can't take it anymore. Yes. Here I go, saying your name. God yes. I'm coming in your mouth. Keep going as I buck and scream under your tongue and your fingers.

Too high
Can’t come down
It’s in the air
And it’s all around
Can you feel me now

With a taste of your lips
I’m on a ride
You're toxic I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I’m addicted to you
Don’t you know that you’re toxic
And I love what you do
Don’t you know that you’re toxic

Pull me on top of you. Let me take it in. So hard as I come down to kiss you and I can taste my pussy on your tongue. I put my fingers in your mouth and look at you. I mount you and you go in deep. Deep. Now. Now. Don't stop. Don't let me stop. Don't make me stop. Sliding up and down, my clit rubbing against you as you're deep inside my pussy, my tits in your face, my nipples in your mouth, our hands in each others hands. Fuck me now. Before we change our minds. Take it now. Please. Yes. Lose. Let me lose. Let me lose it to you. Let me lose it for you. Lose it for me. Get lost. Let me get lost. Come in. Let me in. Let me in. Please. Yes, I said yes I said yes yes yes. I wish I could write your name here but it's too dangerous it's too fucking dangerous and you know how dangerous fucking me is going to be and you know you're going to do it anyway, baby. Oh yes so much yes.

Don't you know that you're toxic

With a taste of your lips
I'm on a ride
You're toxic I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic

So long so hard I can't count I can't see straight and there is nothing but you in my head on my mouth on my tits between my legs and our hands and our feet tangle around each other and all I can say is your name and fuck me yes yes yes yes yes. You're so big so hard so fucking hot fucking me and I'm so wet and all I can say is your name. Hear it again, my voice in your head, you getting off on how much I'm getting off how you know I can't take you or leave you I just need it want it, desire it more than air more than sleep more than water.

Intoxicate me now
With your lovin' now
I think I'm ready now
I think I'm ready now
Intoxicate me now
With your lovin' now
I think I'm ready now

Miss me yet?

2006-08-30T20:50:00.000-07:00

You keep asking if I take it up the ass. For you, of course.

I know you need my pussy first. That you like me on top, that when it comes right down to it despite my ravishing fantasies that's probably how it'll go, I'll sink onto your cock as you bury your face in those tits you love so much. And you'll look into my eyes and search my face as I surrender to your impossibly hard fuck. But consider it dessert.

First of all, you know I deserve a spanking- a borderline beating really for how much trouble and danger I've caused in your life, yes? Way too inconvenient for way too long. Luckily you have me back in check now, wanting nothing but for you to eventually read this and know that I sit hot and wet and think about you when I get the luxury, that you're still the only man in my head. So flip me over in my little black dress, or better yet tell me how you want me and then make me wait for it. The best way is face down. I know you could give me a lot to think about while my legs were spread, my skirt was up, my panties were pulled down in one hard motion and my elbows were on the bed. Especially if I was wearing heels. You'd be surprised at how hard you'd get at my impertinent, trifling little moans and gasps, as I quivered underneath you once you began your punishment, waiting for the next strike. Don't worry about hurting me, I hope I earned it.

Let me sell you on this. You've opened me up with your fingers so you know. You like putting them up there because you like the noise I make, and I know you want to cross the line with me. I asked you about it but I like how you don't care if and when I come, and that's something can I can learn now, how to stay with it when I trust your fingers and cock and mouth enough to let go for them. For you, who will leave afterwards and need time. Like a good quarrel.

I'm going to lose ths one, my ass so red under the palm of your hand, once you start. Go down for a second and just taste me, rude. Make me squirm for it. Just your tongue, just a moment, swirling the hole. Before the finger, probing, one and then two. Now ask me if I like it and make me tell you, because I love having my cheeks go red all at the same time. The dirtier you talk, the more I will respond. I will say anything you want for the right, measured, precise amount of pain and you've seen it.

Move around to my mouth and let me suck you, still legs spread, with my ass up in the air, submissive and waiting. Have you ever seen somebody's legs spread with a training bar? Holding them at a perfect angle to be used as a doll. Make me play with myself for you, moving the wet juice from my mouth to my pussy to my ass until I'm more than ready.

Put the tip against my asshole and make me squirm for it. Tease me until I can't take it. Watch me beg for it. Grab my ass with your strong fingers. Hurt me however you want until the high kicks in and I start begging for it.

And then put it in my ass and take me. Pull my hair and slide it in and make me ride it. All the way up, slamming me deep, with no mercy, your fingers reaching around to stroke my clit while I take the punishment with tears in my eyes. Use your nails to pull me into you harder as I become your vessel, your release, your solace, as you watch the reaction you are causing with your normal impassivity. For real, yeah for real. I really make those noises for you and you really feel it. Your lust, like your edges, has a certain coldness that blows me away.

You won't believe what it sounds like, Tiger. You could come from the sound, if you would let yourself come at all.

2006-08-29T23:03:00.000-07:00

"You want to love me? Then don't want anything, don't need anything, don't desire anything."

I was screaming your name at five in the morning like you wanted. But I wish I'd had the guts to scream it in my bed.

I should have gotten out of the car. I should have opened your door, and asked you to follow me. We were forty paces away from a big mistake that I wanted more than anything. Right around the corner on the little path. My apartment is the second unit in. Unlock the door. Four steps to the right and you would have been in my bedroom.

The bottle out of your hand, the tobacco out of your mouth. My mouth on yours, my hand on your neck, unbuttoning your shirt, on your stomach, your nipples. My tongue on your bare chest. My hand on your cock as you protested one last time. I would have just stripped my jacket off. Looked at you. Slid my shirt over my head and my skirt down until I was just standing there for you. Unhooked my bra and laid back on the bed and taken your hands in mine and felt your mouth move to my tits and that crazy shooting spark from your teeth and fingers as you got what you wanted. Your mouth between my legs and then your cock slamming into me. We would have tangled up so fast in my sheets. I can't imagine how fast you would have been into me if we were in my room. New bed. New sheets. Like busting a cherry. My window was open, but it was five in the morning.

So hot, you raise women's flesh just being around them. They all want the walk to the car, the flirt, the ipod share. So charismatic, so considerate, so sweet. So nice. They giggle and fawn and bat their eyes. But I can stand it.

How many girls have you hurt like me, baby? How many girls have let you leave marks and then joke about it in public? How many girls like to see stars when they get their tits sucked? How many girls want to be double finger fucked as if they were a six pack of beer at five oclock on a Sunday morning?

I can't imagine, no, I can, unzipping your shorts so you could fuck me. You were so hard, so big and rock hard. You were so turned on while I was stroking it in the car, while you were sucking on my nipples and fucking my pussy and ass with your fingers. I was riding your fingers and screaming your name and I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't say fuck me. Just fuck me. Forty paces, thirty seconds from that hard cock driving into my pussy and your violence all over the rest of me. Your demanding mouth. Your fingers. The marks on my arm. People don't know how good it felt when you left them on me, how wet my pussy got from your hand pushing into me, how high I got. People think somebody hurt me. They don't get how bad I wanted it. They can't.

You probably think you've already heard the kind of noise I can make. When I was saying your name and that other word again and again there was one word I was leaving out, because I was actually afraid you would just fuck me right in my car. I wanted you to. But my bed was forty feet away. And it was five in the morning.

If I tell you to fuck me, and we're alone, you will. You would have. You would have.

Did I get it?

Screaming your name. A name I have no claim to, Tiger. Again and again for months and months as I come and come and you come and go.

Ok, Tiger. I don't want you. I don't need you. I don't desire you.

Now come get me.

2006-08-08T23:21:00.000-07:00

I wanted it for so long and you just gave it to me, didn't you. In an alley. Not even an alley, a walkway. Anybody could have come along, but they didn't. Anybody could have heard us, but they didn't. What do you want, you asked. You know, I said. Ok, you said. And down you went.

I looked up into the night sky and spread my legs and you moved aside my panties and tasted what you hadn't tasted in so long. God you went so slow with my hands in your hair just like I thought you would. You were talking it in, I could tell, as my hips rose into your face. Your tongue was so gentle and tentative on my clit, so soft and...I hate to say loving, but that's what it was. Just licking me like you could disappear into my pussy. You just did it. Like there was no game, no decision anymore, like it was the only outcome. The only answer. My skirt up, my legs spread, you face down on the concrete. Not how I thought it would happen. But how else?

You opened me up while you tongued my pussy with a finger right in my ass too, didn't ask, didn't check, just pushed and I spread farther apart and you worked me with this impossible rhythmn until I went crazy against your mouth.

So many times I've washed and dressed for you and nothing has happened. And then like that, with the energy of it all still on us. Oh, I know it's more than you thought you wanted. But I have no regrets. I just wish you didn't.

2006-07-20T00:29:00.000-07:00

Oh, my friend. You love to window shop. You sure look at me a lot. I notice you sometimes, you know. You look at me more than any other man I've ever wanted. It makes me crazy. It makes me suck in my tummy and push out my tits for you, that's for sure. I love catching you looking. I love how open you are about wanting me. You make me feel beautiful. I admire your integrity too, and I live for the day you stop being able to stay away.

I love looking at you, too. The sight of your mostly unclothed body is...astonishing. I could look at it all day. When you take off your shirt, I think about laying you down on my bed, gently fastening your wrists to my bedposts, and exploring you with my tongue. Back of the neck, yes, side of the neck, collarbone to those gorgeous hard muscles of yours, to your nipples. I know I can bite. Down your belly, my hands working your thighs while my mouth works your torso.

I wonder if you'd like watching me take off my clothes. You'd really see me then, my body, there in front of you. I want to look in your eyes and strip for you, watch the desire in your eyes. I want to watch you as I take off my bra, as I cup my tits in my hands and stroke the nipples, as I lay back on my bed and my fingers move to the outside of my panties. I love showing you my pussy. I want to look in your eyes as I put my hand on my wet pussy and play with my clit, and I want to watch you decide what to do about me.

I want to lower my pussy onto your face and let you have what you want without fear. To slowly slide my pussy across your perfect mouth while you drunk it all in, that would be so amazing.

Do you get by now that I can't stop this? I don't want to, I have nothing to lose at all. I just want what I want.

I want you to take me. I want you to take the time to really look at me. Performing for you, showing you what I like with my fingers on my body, panting for you, begging for you, knowing how hard your cock is, how deeply you'll fuck me, how badly you want to. You have very good control of yourself. Can you control my pussy? I want to feel you fucking me, and I want to see that control. I need to spread my legs for you. I need it like I need to breathe. I want to look in your eyes as my pussy teases you, encloses you, takes you in, as you fuck me slowly and then so hard.

I know how bad you want to fuck me and how hard. The same way I can tell from your kisses what your mouth would feel like on my pussy, I can tell from sucking your cock what fucking you would be like. I know that at least the first time, you would need me to take it pretty fast and hard and make a lot of noise for you so you knew how much I loved it. A performance, a victory, and just so good. Just thinking about the taste of your mouth, the feeling of your hands on my wrists, the rhythmn of your cock is just so good.

And I can wait. You take all the time you need, my friend, because I remain here. Mouth unkissed, pillow empty, ready and waiting for you. To look, to touch.

You can't break it and you don't have to buy it. Imagine that.

2006-07-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

Three little words. No Strings Attached. To Ashlee that is. Even the name screams do me and forget you did. What a great fucking opportunity. The way she dresses you can tell she pretends not to like it but she does. Pearls, little sweaters, those faux professional black pants, and I bet she takes it up the ass. But not tonight.

How long would it take to close that office door after your earnest request for her help with your Own Private Idaho? You hate the thought of being discovered, so you'd have to work things for a late night in the building. You do seem to have a thing for drama teachers though, so you'd be right up her alley. And what an alley.

She's not up for anything romantic tonight. She's leaning back at that slight angle in the metal folding chair, her legs crossed, reading that little section of the scene with you, the one where you just...can't...get...mad....but the more Stanley Kowalski you go, the more the hair stands back on her neck and those nipples harden under the summer equivalent of the sweater, the twinset shell. Oh yeah, the visceral power of the raging man. Your body in stride. I wish I were a fly on the wall when you nail her. No, wait, I wish I was there. I could provide oral support.

Now she's deep in thought, pondering the solution to the acting problem. "Yes", she says...no, she purrs.."you just have to release all that...anger. " She uncrosses those legs, stands up. Strides over to you, and slaps you across the face. Her nails graze you a little, getting you hot. Now her hand is in your hair, her mouth inches from your mouth. "Get down on your knees." she hisses, and there you go. "Don't sit crosslegged, you're gonna be here a while." She rakes those nails down your neck and holds your face with both hands, looking into your eyes for a second. Then she spits, spits in your face, the bitch. "I want to make sure you're ready for what comes next," she says, her voice all silk, barely a trace of the tighness that used to inform her comments in class. Pussy inches from your mouth underneath those layers. Bet you can smell it, the musk of the workday, two sections of theatre one and three private students and some driving from san rafael and you're wondering if she has a Brazilian when she just grinds her pussy up against your face. Hot, the outside of her pants, a firm hold on your neck, yes. Ashlee is a pornstar name.

She's not going to let you grab her arms and turn her around and kiss her on the neck until she speaks in tongues. She doesn't give a shit about your charm or ability to take control. She would hate hate hate it if you bent her over her desk and had your pleasure in her slick, sweet asshole. She doesn't want sweet seventies lay lady lay across the big brass bed, no Kauaian waterfalls or Tuscan hilltops for this one. She's gonna MAKE you give it to her. She's going to grind your beautiful smile up against those practical panties until you beg her to undo the ubiquitous side zipper and let you have your sweet sweet revenge on her clit. Your frustration is her fervor, and she will keep herself just on the edge of coming right now, bump and grind, bump and grind while your legs are going numb and all your tricks and little licks and bites and behaves are going to waste.

Oh baby she has strong legs, yoga, pilates, something, and and an uncompromising mound. She doesn't care about your sparkling eyes, just the leglock and the tease, and finally you can't take it any more, and you try to turn on the charm but she's not even looking at you, her eyes clear on herself in the mirror across from the desk as you do what she wants like a machine and wait for her to give in to you, your hotness, your shoulders, the potential of your mouth between a pair of lips, the delicious thrill of your slow breath where it counts. And finally she pulls back and pulls that side zipper and those pants drop and there's that brazilian underneath the silky champagne panties from Nordie rack. Dripping your favorite flavor, baby, but she only lets you stay for a second, and only outside the panties before she commands you to fuck her in that nice little chair across from the desk in that office.

Yeah, she sits back and spreads wide after unceremoniously shucking those workday panties on the floor on the persian rug, her twat with just the barest glance of hair across the top like a little bowl cut, and by the dim light of the desk you go into her, so hard from that screwed up tease, still on your knees while she braces her hands on the edge of that chaise and doesn't let you kiss her mouth. Who's the fucking whore now? You can see her nipples through her little offseason ribbed shell from talbots that's only slightly askew, even get your hand on one tit and work it a bit, but she's immune to your personality, just wants the stud farm fuck hard inside that precise and tight academic pussy, those trained lungs moaning low like there's no tomorrow, confident the corridor's mostly empty, and there you go, tiger, there you go, too soon, always on the hop, even now, did you get what you needed, did you find what you were looking for?

2006-07-07T00:19:00.000-07:00

I got it. Your dirty secret.

SoI'll behave if you will. I'll stop sticking my tits in your face if you stop casually easing up your shirt and slowly tying the drawstring of your pants, low enough so I can see the waistband of your briefs, granting me an excruciating and extended vision of your chest and abs. I'll stop licking the back of your neck when you accidentally press up against me if you stop biting mine. Walk into a dark room and tell me to behave. What did you think was going to happen, Mr. I-Just-Want-T0-Be-Friends?

Well, I guess we know now, don't we, where a sophisticated conversation can lead. One day's heat leading to another's resolve, until the moment of opportunity, where I finally put my hand in your lap while we're staring straight ahead. Now you are not the first man who has done this. The whole this-is-not-happening game. Those on my side of the Madonna-Whore complex know it all too well. Your face stares ahead, lost in my handjob. You moved my hand like a good boy. Tried to keep it light, you know? Catholics. That works once. Then I move back, start jacking you off through your pants, invite your hand onto my tit until it moves between my legs, and I pull down my wasteband and let you in. I work your zipper. I extract your cock. I pump it in the darkness as we play in parallel. You are stroking all that silk and fire now, so much buildup, all for you, as I talk dirty to you, my moment of confession. How you're the only man I think about, which is true and you don't believe. How bad I want you. Your fingers are all over my clit and then you start fucking me with them, real gently, and I'm so close, so fast. But I decide to misbehave after a few minutes of this and deepthroat your cock. You tell me it's not a good idea. You are unconvincing.

I am rewarded, once I find your hotspot, with a vigorous grab on my hair and your hand on my ass. Your nails leave bruises, your hands rake my ass, loving the crazy pain you are causing. Your cock and my throat are a perfect fit. I could service you all night. But you deny yourself, asking me to stop before the moment of truth. And so we talk for a while, ease off, And now I will take the pain of that. For you. Because a few minutes later, your secret can't stay inside anymore.

You tell me I have great tits and so I invite you back for some play. And this is how I learn. You like to hurt girls. It's ok, a common thing, we're both adults, and I have experience. But I am unprepared for what my desire can do in this situation. I will offer you as much as I can. I chose the bra with you in mind, it frames them for play like this. I uncup the left one and guide your hand. You caress, and then zero in on your target. Your fingers find my nipple, hardening, and squeeze. I freeze.

Not for a second, what seems like a minute, like whitehot stars as you apply real pressure to my nipple, and I begin to moan. You increase the pressure, impassive, and I start to fly into the pain. Because you don't stop, my moaning moves out into screaming, and I am still taking it, and I am still there. You give me a break, your face not changing, you don't encourage, I get nothing, then you lick your fingers and come in for more. Yes. Pain I can't describe and my mouth is the only release as I moan and scream and go places abstract with you while you fire up my nipple. Holy god that you dare. This is out of control. I am high on your abilty to make me see stars. I try to talk to you about it but I'm too high....You give me nothing. But it was more truth than you ever told, tiger. What you're capable of, what I'm in for, what submission to you really means.

And all I know is that you own me more and more...and it terrifies me.

2006-06-26T00:21:00.000-07:00

You're drunk on my doorstep, so you might as well come in. Yeah, right here in the hall, this wall is perfect for your first move. The ultimate in booty call because you're about to feel what you haven't let yourself feel again. Kiss my neck. Never gets old. Grind up against me, yes. You want to tell me how sexy I am? Is that just the booze talking? Let me make it easy.

You're kind of cute when you're wasted, you know that? Mouth still kissable even as your eyes are hot and feverish, even as your hands wander to places you never let yourself go, really exploring my tits, probably more pressure than if you took your time, studied, were concentrated about it. But no, right now you have no control so I just gotta go with it, baby. You're right about every detail of it but this one. So get your hand out from under my skirt, before you get too much pussy on your fingers.

Allright, just a taste. Geez. It's like Christmas, the way you smell it, the way you put your fingers in your mouth and suck them in those long strokes. It's right there. You can have it if you want it. You prefer to torture yourself, ok.

But you're not fucking me tonight, because fucking me would be cheating. So put your hands in my hair again, yes, you don't need to push down on my head, because I have every intention of sucking you off. Right, that's right, doing you until you're done. Then you'll be able to take a little rest, poor thing. Hair of the dog...

So let's move to the couch. I'll give you a lap dance. Take a tit out of my bra for you to suck. Fuck yeah oh you're hurting it again. You play it, I see stars and I can't control what comes out of my mouth. I wish you were sober. You're really good at it then...But I love your body. You can stall for a moment, but I'm going down, because otherwise we'll fuck, and technically, that's cheating. Shh...you're in no shape to protest, are you, tiger?

I kneel at your feet, ready to keep us both from making a terrible mistake, and put my hand on it. You moan, go someplace else, and I feel you hardening in my hand, surrendering through your shorts, sliding a foot out of your flipflops. I slide my pussy onto your feet and let you feel the wetness through the panties and get to work.

Slow strokes, I recall, are your nemesis. I go nice and rhythmic for you on the outside of your zipper and then slowly draw it down. Gently take your cock out of your pants. God how I missed this part of you. I just have to give him a kiss.

Luckily, he likes it. Slides right into my mouth, surrendering to my tongue. I keep stroking, and licking, pumping with my mouth and pulling off for a little nibbling now and again as you surrender. No kinky stuff, just gently cupping your balls, not the attention I normally lavish on them with the tip of my tongue. That's right now, you can fuck my mouth,it's not your fault, just go slow. You like it deep, my throat opening. You're a good boy, you know that?

I can feel you relax, feel that click in your brain where it gets ok. Feed it to me, I'm not even tipsy. Just lay back and let me take it for you.

God, I love this. I feel the heat between my legs and it only takes a simple shift of position to connect doing you to coming right at your feet. I know you think you'd like to eat my pussy, but you're not going to get to tonight because I'm going to take it down my throat so you can just relax and let me make you come. About time. Yes, that's right. Pull my hair. Drive me down on it. Let me do this for you. Yeah. That's it. Until you can't take it or me any more, soldier. Spill it for me as I come swallowing you shooting down my throat, my head in your lap. Cheers.

2006-06-23T01:40:00.000-07:00

Ana, Ana, Ana. How you fuss over me. I love looking down your shirt at those big perky breasts while I'm soaking my feet in your pedicure tub. Your soft voice, asking me if I want my toenails cut “oval”, and then the lotion as you start your massage. I love what you do to my feet, Ana, and when you move me over to do my hands I love that, because then I can really look down your shirt. Ana, you are so particular, the way you tell me what you'll do for me before you do it. You drive me crazy when we're alone in the massage room together, too. Your yummy yummy hips, Ana. Your strong hands on my naked body, oiling me up. When my face is in that cradle, and I'm looking at your feet, I can imagine nuzzling in your lap, I can see the mound of your pussy right under your zipper while you work on my neck, while you introduce each stroke with your soft accent. And oh, when you go up my leg with those rhythmic strokes I have to keep from grinding into the table.

Ana, could we lock the door sometime? Now, you would say, I have something special for you today. It will make you feel so good. You lean in and slowly kiss me, your tongue parting my lips. My hand moves to cup your soft yummy tits and you say, yes, that's so nice. I pull up your shirt and slowly, sensuously flick my tongue around your nipple, gently taking it into my mouth. Ana, I ask, can I pay you back for all the wonderful massages you've given me? You lay back on the table and I take the oil and slide off your shirt, swirling the oil around your belly as I gently caress you. I sit between your legs and rub your pussy through the zipper as you moan, and then open for me. Gently I unzip your jeans and ease them off those round hips. I ask you if you'd like a pillow under your legs to be more comfortable, and then open your thighs. Your pussy is beautiful, wet and wild, a thick hairy bush for me to play with. My fingers slip between your legs, oiled, as I gently work your hole, first with one, then two and three. Slick and moist, I pump your pussy slowly with my hand, feeling the warmth on three fingers. I move to the counter and grab the little icer that you use on my face after my eyebrow wax, and hold its cold to your nipples while I begin to slowly tease you with my tongue. Your pussy is so ample, soft and wet, and I love pleasuring you. Your soft near whisper turns to moans as I circle your clit with my mouth, using breath to keep you turned on while giving you a nice fucking. I really want to turn you over, but I don't want you to freak out, so I whisper in your ear, Ana, can I do the back? You roll over for me on your belly, and I start with the oil on your shoulders, keeping one hand buried in your cunt as I work my way down and spread your ass cheeks with my fingers. Kneeling behind you, I tuck my tongue in the crack of your asshole and you sigh softly, parting your big brown legs a bit further to give me more access. You get up on your knees a bit, and I'm treated to the beautiful sight of you spreading your hole for me, a hand on each cheek. I go in circles, softening up your glory hole while exploring your pussy with my fingers. I love your taste as I lap and kiss away at your hot asshole, and you sigh and relax into it, as I increase the speed of the fucking I'm giving you. Your moans are getting louder now and I slowly slide the icer, freezing, into your asshole, lubing it up with my tongue as you start to buck aganst my face. You don't have another client until six and I can hang around until then.

2006-05-14T00:18:00.000-07:00

Imperial white. Tiger Skin. Kashmir gold. Amber fantasy. Aurora. Rosa Persa. You're waiting for me. Between the cold slabs of smooth shiny rock. I walk around in my capris and studded belt and high heeled sandals and I look for my kitchen counter and I keep seeing you. There's a white piece of paper in the corner of all the slick ones, and the shiny ones- 95 dollars a square foot some of them and that's uncut, but I see you there, watching me between the stacks. It's quiet like a library in here- the salespeople hide in the office and I don't know if you work here or what you do if you do but your eyes are burning through me. Why am I such a slut for your kind of guy, the handyman, the roughneck, the bad boy?

I'm in the office checking prices with the cute olive skinned brunette behind the desk and you're staring at me through the window, one hand in your pocket, the other almost kissing the zipper of your jeans. Staring. No apologies. Your eyes devour my curves, my freckles, the v between my tits. What now?I bet you'd love it if I flirted with her, if we started playing around on the desk in that porn star kind of way so you could watch through the window as I slid my hand up her pink t shirt and sucked on her nice little tits on top of that nice granite desk, if I eased her out of her Ann Taylor khakis twisted her thong into her ass and plundered her hot hole with my tongue. Her little cell phone would just ring and ring, her French manicured fingers reaching back for it to skitter it down on the table, to try to shut it up while I make it so impossible for her do anything but forget her price list while she squeals like a piglet. So impossible. Girls take work. But you won't. I scan the warehouse. Empty but for walls of rock, stacked, labeled, soundproofed, sleepy for Saturday. Let me see what I can do for you on that price. Yeah, the one on the end. I always want the most luxurious materials. Travertine, not Corian. Custom bullnose. I'm spoiled like that. I walk out to do more research. Bury myself in the room, a maze of cold stone, brilliant, feldspar, quartz, micah.

Your eyes meet mine and you know it worked, I'm waiting for you, for the hot fuck against the cold wall. I put my hands flat against it, readying myself for you, for your breath on my neck while you start it off with your hand. I arch my back for you. Between the tits and then down against the the crotch of my pants, following the movement of your fingers with the circles of your hips. You're already hard as I undo my belt and your hand slides into my panties. Slow and low, a rhythmic fuck, building me smooth and wet for you, so hungry as you seek my tits with your mouth and I stroke the bulge in your jeans. I love feeling it, riding it, rough as I slide against the friction. And I just want use and you know it, instinct, but you show it to me first, that cock, and get me on my knees so I can suck on it. You got someone at home and I love how I might see you loading this slab of rock into my kitchen later this week, but right now I love your easy slide into my throat and how I carefully and slowly work it for you as I kneel on that sterile industrial carpet against the freshly painted wall. Taboo. You don't know me but you're strangely gentle, enthralled, your hands in my hair as I lick the shaft lightly, long strokes, nibbles and suckles, loving its taste and feel, making it clear you can fuck my throat. The first thrust and I can hear you breathe and I wrap my hands around your ass and let the tears run down my cheeks. I play with the tip of your head with the tip of my tongue and then take you in, alternating short strokes with long until long is all you need and I feel you explode like rain down my throat, my back against this cold wall of desire.

2006-03-21T22:09:00.000-08:00

So it takes 21 days to form a habit and here I am again, unable to forget about you. It's Tuesday again. Some people don't like Mondays, but Tuesdays just kill me. Very habit forming. Worse than Sundays.

It's really too early to meet for lunch but let's do it anyway. And let's pretend, this time, that we're friends, friends with similar interests in the light of day, and that this table is our playground. The more I think about it, the more I can imagine it, the way we could just hang out and talk. Never mind all the flirting, the hunky in hunky dory, let's just sit here like adults and have a conversation.

You'll order food. What the hell do you actually eat? We'll wait for it to arrive while discussing the arts and culture. You'll eat it. I'll order food. I'll eat it. I'll watch your mouth chew, you swallow, your hand on silverware. I'll play with my waterglass, eat my fruit slowly, and try to turn you on. Hands, eyes, mouth, tone of voice. You'll order me not to turn you on, which will make me feel more like turning you on.

Our knees will brush under the table. You'll compliment me without thinking. I'll make some observation and start touching your hands again. Thank god there's a tablecloth, I'll think to myself, as your knee slides between my legs. I'll be wearing jeans, no need to make it easy, but still. You want me to spread my legs for you so you talk me into it. By telling me not to.

Just watch me pretend to have a normal conversation. I can talk about anything you want with great intelligence while I stroke your cock. I love feeling it half hard, feeling it grow in my hands, running my hands up and down it. I pride myself on this very thing. Taking you to the edge while your face remains impassive, as if I am having no effect on you at all, as if you aren't losing total control right now.

I also pride myself on being able to have undetected sex in public, so when I get up to go powder my nose, I think you should put your salad fork back on the plate and follow me.

No one's in the corridor and it's one of those rooms you can lock, clean and hip and I can smell the cinnamon in the air freshener. I'm cold but your mouth is warm on mine and your hands are hot on my skin under my t shirt. So fast, so hot, your defenses slipping away and you're into me good now. One hand up my shirt and one on my cunt as I stroke the back of your neck and cover your face with kisses, whispering you into me, my hair, my skin, pulling you so close, careful not to leave marks as I wrap a leg around your ass and pull you into me against the wall. Grind it into me. Yes. I'll give you everything. "You are such a bitch," you whisper. "How am I supposed to go back to work after this?" "Not my problem," I whisper back. "Kiss me." Then we just lose it as the heat envelopes us. You thought about how you wanted me so many times and never let yourself describe it because it scares you but now, your body betrays you. No, your soul. I take you in with everything that I have. I yield to your desire, what you won't let yourself feel, I open to you as you slowly tease my hot slit with your hard cock, my jeans going to my ankles, my panties irrelevant as you stake your claim. Your mouth is all over me, your hands in my hair, I'm so hot I'm going to cry while I come. I can barely keep quiet, and my moans resonate against the walls of this little room.

I pull myself onto the little counter which is strong enough to brace this stolen moment and spread wide for you and guide your cock inside. I watch you fuck me, my minds eye extending my coming so it seems like it never stops as you feed me with your cock and balls, as I spread wide, as you blow my mind with your soft thrusts. We have no time, but we go slow enough to be excruciatingly precise up against the mirror, the sink wetting my jeans, the reflections in the room giving a good view of both of us in the rusted and high gloss of this afternoon delight. I feel your flesh melting against mine, your muscles defined as we come together. Our breath mingles, our eyes meet, we're just friends...

2006-03-08T22:01:00.000-08:00

Tie me up. Just my wrists. You want my legs free, believe me. Stroke me over my clothes so I shiver. Nibble on my ears and brush my hair out of my eyes. Concentrate your fingers on just one spot, circling from my knee to my thigh, turning me on. So interesting how touch can be, in one direction one way, comforting, therapeutic, but shift on the grain of the skin and it's just hot.

You feel so safe with me, so comfortable, and yet you're trying to get a rise out of me. Did you notice your power? You may be a little blown away by me, but it's just the history, the mystique. Now that you have me pinned down it melts away- just hunger.

Feed me those big tits of yours one at a time. Let me suck on them. I'm not afraid of being used. I like your nipples brushing against my mouth, teasing me until you move on. It doesn't have to be so emotional. Sit up and watch my face as you kiss my neck, my collarbone. Look in my eyes as you slide your hand down my belly, the circles again. My hands are held so tightly together by your belt and you have a hand on the top button of my jeans. I can't touch you but you can fuck me and all I can do is get fucked. Hot, your fingers, the goddamn circles, don't be scared, just commit to the challenge. You like locking things up now pick this apart, your fingers, expert, you dykes know cunts so well.

My wrists will be sore, little marks, they'll show that you got me, pinned me down. You better love yourself in the morning, I will. Here we go, your fingers are strong, plain, cupping me, sliding up inside and starting in with an indescribable rhythm and the light in here is soft and the air is sweet and your hand pins me to the bed as you put pressure on my clit and two fingers up my cunt and do me like that for a while. Jesus, I'm breathing hard as you flip me over on my tummy, wrists above my head, my face in the pillow, your hand at my cunt, my clit working the sheets cause after all, I told you I can come like that. I told you how I like to come on purpose. And I'm losing it against your firm hand, moaning and gasping and shuddering until I hit the peak and you're still fully clothed and I'm just disheveled and you know me now.

2006-03-01T22:12:00.000-08:00

Just talking to you is enough to make me wet.
It's true.
It's agonizing.

After the last time, I had to take care of myself. I had been playing with myself while we talked. Just on the outside of my panties, but still.

I'm even getting hot thinking about it now. I need to play. I slide my hand right down my pants, underneath my black silk panties, and stroke the side of my hips, and then play with my ass. I pull my pants down to my ankles like a bad girl waiting for a spanking that'll never come. I spread my legs and start exploring. My pussy is so hot and wet, swollen. I think about you pulling me in, lowering me onto your cock. I think about how my tight pussy would swallow it as my eyes widened, taking the whole thing up to the hilt. As our eyes met. So scary to let you in like that. So hot. I think about cheap motels and rainstorms and dark corners of college campuses, about countertops and tables and too much fucking privacy and not enough. Kissing you, sucking on your tongue while you make me take it all.

I may be on my back with my legs spread right now, fingering myself into a frenzy, but what I really want is to make you come. Just the thought of it makes me so wet. Where do you want to come? Down my throat? Between my tits? Months and months...

I think about your mouth hovering over my tits after you kiss my neck, how I like it so soft it makes my head spin, how time could just stand still. Your hand on mine while I play with myself, following my movements. Brushing the edge of my bra with your mouth. You can just see the black lace. Do you want to play with them? Suck them? Feel them grow hard in your mouth, wrinkled, like sharp little berries, soft and wet for you? Do you want them pushed together for you to pleasure your cock with? What do you really want? Is there anything I can do that someone doesn't do for you? Something I can be for your satisfaction?

I need to get fucked. So long and so hard. But right now, my hand strokes my pussy. One, now two fingers up inside, Two fingers twist my vibrator on, bringing all that crystal jelly deluxe into motion. First the vibrating tip of the shaft on my clit, now move it down and push it inside me, raw, rude, no ceremony or lube, deep in my pussy while I think about you . Little sounds now, alone in the house, moans. Sharp intake of breath as I let this modern technology get me off. Mmm, yes. I drive it inside. It fills up my pussy and the vibrating orb resonates against my clit and I start to clench against it, hands stroking my belly, through my hair, toes grabbing the sheets as it fucks me relentlessly and your name is the only word I can say as I come. The calm after the storm. And then again, and again...

2006-01-29T20:28:00.000-08:00

Line 3. It's a problem. I say it and you kiss me. You kiss me every time, your lips exploring mine, calculating my every move until you feel me needing it and then you pull away and go on with the scene. Partners, yes.

What if it never stopped, if our tongues met, if your mouth stayed on me and you felt me melt into what I know you can do? I think I could kiss you for hours, inhaling your scent, and I bet your gentle mouth would move to my neck and my ears, your hands in my hair, while I just gave it up. Your hands stroking my collarbone as I move them slowly down, giving you access to my tits, so gentle on them as my nipples spring to attention under your fingers and your tongue. Soft, then hard, your teeth, my fingers in your mouth, my hand tracing the back of your neck.

And you'd love to eat my pussy.

I know from your mouth, from our chaste kisses that stop way too soon, what it would feel like. I could tell the one time you started exploring my lips, because you couldn't help yourself, how much you'd enjoy devouring my clit, how easy it would be for me to spread my legs. I know you'd look at it, going slowly as I stroked your hair. I know what you could do if you just breathed on it. It would turn you on more, my hands stroking your head as you did me with your tongue. You'd kiss my pussy and move your tongue in circles, drinking my honey while I came in your mouth. I know how precise your lips and tongue would be on my pussy lips, how lightly you'd lick me, how much you'd enjoy my smell and taste. I bet it would feel like it could last forever.

And then you'd move up, I'd feel it, your cock pressed against me as you explore my mouth with your tongue again . I want you to drive me. I want to feel you opening me up, pressing your weight into me as your cock grinds against my wet pussy, teasing it out of me until I finally gave you control to slide into me and fuck me as hard as you want. As I want.

I think you want me on top of you. I think you would really know how to work me, how to destroy me with your deep thrusts into me, how to possess me absolutely until you were calling all shots and I was drunk on you and had run out of ideas, just letting you in as you fucked me into a stupor. I think if I'd come for you you'd take me higher and higher, not caring as my clothes were pushed aside, onto the floor, who cares about pillows and blankets, what was to be as you take possession of me, as I yield to your cock and your mouth on me, as I moan and grind and carry on for you , arching my back so you could look into my eyes as I slide up and down on your cock, not caring what happens as I take you in, letting my pussy swallow every inch and giving it up as you do me like you know you can.

When you look at me I know. I can hear myself giving it up. I love touching you like you want to be touched, how sensitive you are to my hands, me rubbing up against you, me whispering in your ear. I love it when you tell me what you like, as if I'm not storing it, that you like your nipples played with, that you like to eat pussy.

But we'll stay away from all that. You said it yourself, and I can't afford to lose everything. There are so many reasons to keep you from exploring my pussy with your fingers, your tongue, your cock, even though I want to spread my legs for you until you explode inside me, reprehensible slut that I am, goddess that I am, wanting to commit the biggest sin with you, enjoying the pleasures of the most intense of acts, honoring you like a queen to your king in our falsely won kingdom as I forget the rest of it, our real lives...

2005-07-05T02:14:00.000-07:00

I should have hit it when I got the chance. Because now she’s sitting in front of me, ruining my lunch with her hotness. I could date every blonde in a two state radius, but she’d still be the one that got away. I could bang my ex girlfriend a million times and this one would still be the one who got away. Why did I say I’d have lunch with her? This is torture. Being friends is overrated. Now she’s smiling at me. Kill me now.

She got her hair cut. It looks nice. Flashback to six months ago in the front seat of my car. Seat reclined, skirt up, panties pulled down just a little. God, I was right in there. Up the shirt, under the bra, her nipples swelling to my touch, kissing her on her neck liked she likes it, her breathing quickening as her lips opened to me. A dream come true. Took a few dates to get down her pants, but once I did, I worked my fingers through all that slippery silk till I got her to let me put one in. She was getting off on it, too. She didn’t want me to do it at first, said it was gross, but I was so careful, moving real slow, stroking her, almost making it seem like a massage that just went a little lower, taking my cue from the arch of her back as her hips bucked, coming up to meet me. My hard-on damn near killed me, I was grinding against her leg, against the fabric of her skirt, and we both knew I was running out of time because of her curfew. I wanted to follow those fingers in there more than anything. I could see my hand against her pussy in the moonlight, feel her tight hole clenching around my fingers. Her hands were clutching my back and I was working on moving one of them onto my jeans. I mean, I thought I was pretty good.

I wonder if she planned it that way. What a tease. She’d be moaning, I’d be working her, hoping and praying that she’d eventually put her hand on my dick, and then she’d be like, “Oh, God. I gotta go. My dad’s waiting up.” We’d drive back to her house, she’d kiss me goodbye, I’d walk her to the front door and get back in my car that still smelled like her and what she’d let me do. For months now, when I see a girl in a nice outfit that really shows off what she’s got, I think about what it would have looked like on the one that got away. I can be walking through the mall, using my peripheral vision to figure out which girls are checking me out, and it’ll just piss me off again. The one that got away.

How much more time would it have taken? I could have gotten started early, right after the movie, talking about us, made her feel a little bad , telling her how much she meant to me, how right it was. I could have told her I thought I loved her instead of her waiting to say it to me. My parents were never out of town when I was dating her, that was the problem. The way we were, two fingers in her pussy, and then I could just slip it in. “ Oh God,” I would have whispered to her. “It’s so good, you’re so beautiful.” Kissing her neck, pretending to mistake the shocked look on her face for passion as I started to move inside her, her legs spreading, her skirt up, her shirt pulled up, my hand on her tit, the other one holding her so she thought I meant it. Sliding it deep inside, nailing her to the seat of the Celica. Looking into her eyes flashing blue at me by the glow of the streetlight as I took her over, slowly, but with purpose. “Oh God, I love you. I can’t help it.” I could have fucked her until the moment of truth, and then lost it inside her, blown my whole wad deep inside her cunt while she moaned underneath me. She wouldn’t have said anything to stop it. I could have handled the drama afterwards. Made her think it was her idea. Kept on for a few days, maybe a week, and then let it go. “It’s not you…It’s me.”

No, man, I’m too nice. She had to want it. She never wanted it like I wanted her.

2005-06-29T22:08:00.000-07:00

Yeah, go ahead and sit so close to me with that happy little grin on your face. Pretend to be shy. Stroke your beer. Flatter me. Stare at my tits. I can see you want to play. You think my power's up for grabs, and you want it.

You tell me what a nasty, dirty little boy you used to be. How shocking it is to you now, the little games you used to play with your little friends. What you saw, what you touched, where your mouth went, how innocent it all was. Smile again, so helpless, so sheepish.

You tell me about the paper you wrote in defense of sadomasochism. Do you think you’re impressing me? Making my pussy wet? Bad boy, with your wandering eyes, so arrogant. I don’t know you, but I know your kind well enough. I know what you need. Switch tactics, little sob story, trying to find yourself, locking me in. You’d love some advice, practice, anything that would help you know what to do with yourself. A little guidance, a little correction.

You rise, asking me if there’s somewhere we could go to talk. You want this like you want to get high. It’s a compulsion, an irrational need, not grounded in reality. I know it so well, because I’m right there with you. You want to pay for your mistakes. I want to make you pay. We won’t be missed. It’ll only take a few minutes.

I ask you if you want to see my office. Oldest trick in the book, but it’s where I keep all my toys. No black leather, I’m into the simple and the personal. It’s rude to lock the door at a party, but what if someone should walk in? How would we explain?

You're looking around the room, at the art on the walls. "You don't really want to talk, do you?"

"Uh, no. Ma'am."

"We both know there's nothing more to say here. You're hardly my intellectual equal. But there is something you can do for me."

"Anything."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Absolutely."

That is the last time I request permission.I sit on my desk and cross my legs and tell you to get down on your knees in front of me so I can get a good look at you. You do, your back straight. You’re beautiful, strong jaw, almost noble, but I won’t tell you. You wait while I gaze, taking a moment to admire what I’m about to rip down.

“Unbutton your shirt,” I say. You start, your eyes never leaving mine. “Don’t you look at me that way, little boy. Who do you think you are?” I slap you hard. You don’t flinch. Good. I like your instincts.

“Keep your eyes on the floor. I’ll tell you when and if you may look at me. I am not interested in any monkey business from you, mister. Are we clear?”

Your answer comes steadily, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. “Yes ma’am.”

“Excellent. I’m glad we understand each other. Now continue.”

Your fingers undo the rest of the buttons and the shirt slips from around your shoulders off your chest.

“Hands behind your back.” I can see the muscles in your arms tense as you reply.

I slowly draw the scarf from around my neck and wind it around your eyes, then run my hands through your hair, down your face, fingers tracing your lips. They part for me and I push one finger in. You suck it, a little too eagerly.

“You’re far too good at that for a boy. Been sucking some cock?”

“Oh, no ma’am.”

I rake my nails down your chest, twisting a nipple. I hear the sharp intake of breath as you take the pain, but again, you don’t flinch. You’re perfect for this.

“Liar.” I uncross my legs and spread them, hiking up my skirt. “So you’re going to tell me you’re not a little faggot? Horny little boy like you, prowling around after anything that moves? Jacking off your buddies?”

Nothing. I watch you breath.

“Answer me. “

“No, ma’am.”

“Because that would be just awful, wouldn’t it. Filthy. But you like pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to slap you again? You know how to speak to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s much better.” I take a sip of wine. “I think it’s time for a drink, don’t you?” I dip my fingers in the glass and then into your mouth. You slurp every drop off my fingers. I pour a little on your tongue and watch it run down your chest, letting it pucker your nipples as the alcohol hits your bare skin. I briefly consider licking it off, but then realize it might turn you on too much. “Wow, you were thirsty. But I think I’d like to see what else you can do with that tongue. Just not yet.” I guide your head between my legs, against my black silk panties. Hold it there for a second, then pull your head back and cup your chin in my hands.

“You like that, don’t you. You like the way it smells.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve wanted to eat my pussy since the moment you met me, haven’t you. You want to bury your face in it. You think you can make me come, don’t you. “

You can’t help it. You smile. I backhand you, hard.

“You arrogant little prick. You can’t even see my face and you think you know how to get me off. ” I open my left desk drawer and take out the handcuffs I keep around for just this type of challenge. I want your hands behind you so I slide off the desk and lock them up where you have them. Then I sit back on the desk and spread my legs for you. “Here you go. You wanted it, now give it your best shot. Don’t worry about making me come, I’ll stop you long before that. Consider this…an audition. “

I rub your face against my drenched panties. “Kiss my pussy. That’s it. Gentle. Now again. Mm, very nice. I bet you wish you could see it, don’t you. Never mind, I’ll let you take a peek in a little while. Time for a little taste. I bet that tongue of yours would love to lick my clit. I move my panties to the side for you. “There you go, honey. Go slow. Lick me all you want, but none of that naughty biting and nibbling. Yeah, that’s it. Eat me.” Your soft mouth explores and teases, the silk of the blindfold rubbing against the top of my mound. I lean back and let you suckle my pussy. I almost forget who’s in control. And then, the rebellion. That playful nibble. Asserting your power. I grab your head and yank it away.

“What was that?”

Silence.

"Did I tell you to use your teeth? To get creative?"

"I just wanted to see what would happen. Ma'am"

"You wanted to see what would happen. You lying little pansy. Claiming you want to serve me. How dare you. Get up.”

You rise, barely struggling, despite your bondage, that arrogant half-smile still visible below the blindfold. I’ve never seen anyone who needs a beating this badly. I uncuff your hands, remove the blindfold, and issue another order. You meet my gaze again. I rake my nails down your chest.

"Careful. You realize I have no choice but to punish you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Take off your belt." You do. I can see the bulge of your cock through your jeans.

“Put your hands on the desk and spread your legs.” One hand on the back of your jeans and your ass is mine, on display. Your pants are now around your ankles, your cock up against the hard cherry wood of my desk, and I’m ready for business.

“I do not want to see flinching, bucking, or kicking. You’re a man, or so you say, and I expect you to take it like one. I do not want cries or whining.”

Your reply is measured. “Yes…ma’am.”

“You know you need this. Or you’ll simply never learn how to behave with a woman. It’s for your own good.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

" Now, how do we get what's coming to us?"

“Ma’am?”

“What's the magic word? ”

“Please,” you whisper.

“Please what? You don’t really deserve even a moment more of my time. I really should toss you out for your impertinence.”

“Beat me. I love you. Beat me.”

Magic words. I begin. One. On your bare back, high up, around the shoulder blades. Two, I begin to work my way down, looking at the marks, badges, relics, evidence of this moment as I make them. Three. Your hands clench and unclench and I can hear you breathe sharply, trying not to cry out, your body stiffening as you take it, my power, your pain, your marvelous silence. In the mirror, I think I see that little smile as you watch my tits bounce with every blow. After seven strokes, blood around the edges of the marks, I want to stop. You beg me again, three more times, and I oblige, lost in you, forgetting about wanting to break you.

We're both sweating as I finish.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You're certainly welcome, and I trust there will be no more of this nonsense in our future exchanges."

I tell you to turn around, to stand up, and I change your position one more time, so your hands are above your head.

And I kneel at your gorgeous feet, your pants pulled back up, but put my hand on your zipper. You’re hard from the beating, and I cup your balls in one hand as I work the shaft with another, gently, before I start to use my mouth. At first, you’re hesitant to give in to my caresses, to the way that I open my throat to take in your entire shaft, to the rhythm of my tongue and hands working in tandem to make my mouth into pussy for you, but I pull you in, not letting you run away. I pull off for a moment, replicating the rising pulse of the pressure and pleasure I am lavishing on your cock and balls, to tell you to come in my mouth.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say with that arrogant half smile, as you thrust into my throat, exploding. I swallow every drop and hope you’ve learned your lesson.