I’ve had a request to pull some stories together into a collection. All of the Cloud stories and Quin & Lynne stories now have their own pages.
The sun was peaking out of the clouds as Lynne grabbed her gloves and bucket. Tucked in the pocket of her Carhart jeans was her phone, loaded up with music to keep her entertained as she worked in the garden. She popped the earbuds in and turned on the music. Peter Moon’s Band began to play Tight and Trippy. She smiled as Quin always called it her song.
She’s tight & trippy, a modern urban hippie
soft & smooth & slippery and hard to figure out
but she’s wise & willing, a hip hop voodoo chillun’
I wanna be there with her when she’s goin’ down
Lynne rocked to the music, pulling weeds and clearing out the vegetable beds. After all the chaos of the last few months, it felt good to do ‘normal’ things. Off to one side, Quin started up the roto tiller, and began to dig the bigger garden. She waved, and watched him for a few moments. Muscles straining beneath the teeshirt that was a little too tight, and that ass. She loved watching him work. Lusted watching him work. Lynne sang along with the chorus.
every word that she whispers is magic *
as she trips thru my mind like a song
she’s so terribly hip that it’s tragic
she knows what’s right, she holds on tight she makes me strong
Quin could hear Lynne singing slightly off key. He laughed softly. It was her song, and one that fit her so well. He found himself mumbling along with the next part.
all my friends and my brother would really love to love her
but she terrifies my mother with her pentagram tattoo
she’s always behind something, a picket sign or a late night clubbing
she’ll save the world and shake it for the evening news
He put his mind to working the garden as he thought about everything that had changed in the last few months. While the changes were temporary, they weren’t as soul destroying as they first felt. New home, changes in work and lots of heartache. Lynne was singing the last bit of the song, pulling weeds in time to the music.
every word that she whispers is magic
as she trips thru my mind like a song
she’s so terribly hip thsat its tragic
she knows what’s right, she holds on tight she makes me strong
I hang on every word she says, i’m so glad she’s here with me
I would never wanna hold her down, but she says I make her feel free
Quin smiled thinking about their D/s dynamic, which the song had brought to mind. Maybe they’d play tonight. He felt better than he had in a while, and he knew she was horny. The work pants she wore hung on her hips, and she practically danced as she carried the bucket full of weeds to the compost. When she bent over, her shirt hung lose enough to give him a glimpse of her breasts. His cock stirred.
Hours later, the two of them stood looking at the work they’d done. Weeds pulled, a garden dug and seeds planted. “Damn we do good work,” Quin said.
“Yes we do. Let’s get these tools put away and then shower. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“No, that’s always horny, not hungry.” She laughed as she headed towards the shed to put away the tools.
Ten minutes later, they were in the shower, hot water cascading over skin, slushing dirt and muck down the drain. Quin stepped out first and began to dry off. Lynne finished up and steped out as he was toweling his cock.
“I could give you a hand with that.”
“You’ll just have to wait. I want my dinner and a cup of tea before I go chasing you around the bed.”
Lynne laughed. “Really? Chase me?”
“The way you’re moving, it will be more like hobbling.”
“Yes. You even up to playtime Old Man?”
“I am if you are.”
“Well so am I. Even if I was exhausted, I’d say yes, because…”
“Because you’re always horny!” Quin laughed and popped her on a wet ass cheek. His handprint stood out vividly. He left the bathroom before she could catch her breath.
After dinner, Lynne caught herself falling asleep as they watched the news. The last thing she wanted was to miss a bit of playtime. Quin had his rules, and falling asleep in a chair was a sure way to not have playtime. She stood up announcing that she was ready for bed. Quin agreed and the two headed for bed.
“Is your ass still red?” Quin asked as she took off her sarong.
“I don’t know.” Lynne turned. There was still a faint mark.
“Hmmm… come here.” He pulled her closer and swatted her ass so that both cheeks were red marked.
“Oh damn that hurt! It’s been way too long since…”
He stopped her mouth with a kiss. Arms wrapping around one another, they fell softly to the bed. Quin’s hand moved between her thighs, finding her wet. He fingered her until she wriggled at the edge of orgasm. He rocked back on his knees and moved so that he could pull her up onto his lap. His cock slid up into her hot pussy.
“Oooh, too damn long…” Lynne moaned.
After a few slow deep strokes, them moved and Lynne rode Quin’s cock as he squeezed her breasts. As their pace quickened, he felt twinges in muscles that had been hard used today. Concentrating, he worked past the pain. Grabbing Lynne’s hips, he thrust hard and deep. He came moments later, shuddering with the release and feeling as if his bones had truly melted.
Lynne gasped as Quin had orgasmed, feeling her own pleaseure on the edge. Before the feelings could slip away, he thumbed her clit and brought her to an orgasm that thundered in her ears. She slid to the bed, wanting to keep him deep inside, but losing her own grip on mobility.
“I… I wasn’t sure things would finish,” she said with a gasp.
“You aren’t the only one. We worked hard, and while the mind was willing, the body was a little weak.” Quin kissed Lynne and pulled her to him. Wrapping an arm around her, he found her clit once more and stroked her until she moaned with orgasmic bliss. His cock throbbed in sympathy with her orgasm. She sighed and they curled up to sleep.
(*Tight and Trippy by Peter Moon Band)
Ana gulped. She knew that her whole body was on fire. Even though she’d written a paper on sexuality, she still didn’t understand it. Her fingers pinched her breast through her gown. Her thighs were soaked. She wriggled in her seat, and a moan escaped her lips.
Micha could stand it no longer. He moved from the stacks and pulled Ana up from her seat. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her lips. At first she stood there and then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. His cock pressed hard against her stomach, and they both moaned.
“I… we… we shouldn’t.”
“I can’t… let me close…” Ana gestured towards the computer. Micha let go of her and she turned off the computer and then took him by the hand and they slipped out into the night. Ana headed towards the barn, keeping to the shadows. Once inside, she headed up into the loft. Once there, she dropped her headscarf and pulled off her gown. Seeing her naked, Micha didn’t spend any time pulling off his own tunic and trews.
They laid down on top of their clothing, hands exploring and mouths locked together. Ana guided Micha’s hands to her breasts and then down to her pussy, which was soaked. He moaned as his fingers slipped deep inside. She writhed and wriggled.
“Put… put your cock inside me.” She spread her legs wide and he moved between them. Wiping his fingers on his cock, he moved until the head was right at the opening.
“Are…are you sure?” he gasped, not wanting to stop, but still unsure.
“Yes!” she pulled him towards her and his cock slammed through her hymen and deep into her pussy. She cried out in a moment of pain and then was overwhelmed by the pleasure that followed. All the pent up frustrations flooded her body.
Micha had hesitated for a second as she cried out, and then his mind went blank as his body drove his cock faster and faster. It didn’t take long before his balls tightened and then spurted his juices deep inside of Ana. He was frozen with pleasure, but Ana whimpered and rocked with need.
“What do I do?”
“Touch me there.” She guided his hand to her clit, and moved it back and forth until he figured it out. She relaxed as his fingers moved faster and faster. Her body arched and she shuddered to orgasm, with his cock still deep inside.
Twenty minutes later, they lay there talking. Their hands traced over the body of the other, exploring. Ana told him what she’d learned, and he soaked it in.
“He spanked her and she liked it?”
“Yes. Reading about it made me wet. Made me want to experience it.”
“What else did they do?”
Ana explained to an increasingly curious Micha. He pulled her over his lap, and spanked her ass. She tried to keep quiet, but squeaked with each stroke. When he’d counted twenty, he touched her. His fingers slid in easily, and she wriggled. He touched her clit, and she exploded in orgasm. His cock bumped against her belly. She laughed.
They tried all the positions Ana could remember. He passed out briefly when she sucked his cock. Ana loved it when he licked her pussy. He spanked her again, and as the juices coated his hand, he ran them over her ass and slid a finger up inside. Ana was a little hesitant, but after a moment or two, she moved up and down on his finger. She moaned and he pulled her closer and used his other hand to finger her pussy and clit. She came explosively. He slid his cock inside her pussy and when he was soaking with juices, he pulled out and pushed into her ass.
Ana cried out as his cock was much bigger than his fingers, but the pain lessened and he began to play with her clit. She rocked faster and faster and his hips thrust deep into her tight ass. Her pussy had felt good, but her ass was so much tighter. It didn’t take long for him to explode.
An hour later, they slowly crept out of the barn and headed down to the baths. Checking to see that they were deserted, they cleaned up and headed back to their dorms. Micha fell asleep on his narrow cot almost instantly. Ana lay awake, touching herself slowly under the sheets.
Daimon read the paper and smiled. He looked over where Gea stood. “You know, this works so much better than a sex ed class.”
“Yes, and it is much better to watch.” Gea motioned towards the computer and the security tape from the barn.
“How long will we let this pair run around before they get paired off?”
“Oh, give it a few weeks. These two are entertaining. They tried everything. Much better than Penn and Thom.”
Daimon laughed. “I have to agree. Care to watch a bit more?”
“No, I’d much rather be fucked by you.” She smiled and walked towards him.
“Oh, desk sounds good.”
Tera ignored the sound of pencils hitting the floor. She turned up her music and went back to her typing.
Twice more in as many days he crept into the library to watch Ana. She would write, and then then switch screens. He knew she must be on the Internet. A few minutes later, she would begin to squirm, and touch herself. As she rocked and tried to keep her moans quiet, he had his own difficulties. Tonight, he’d almost been caught when she suddenly stood up and left. He didn’t follow her, but instead waited and then went to read what was on her computer.
“She wanted to be fucked. Fucked hard. To know how it felt to be pierced by a thick warm cock. To understand how it felt to give everything to another individual. She needed to feel hot hands on her breasts, teeth on her nipples and lips kissing her roughly. She wanted an orgasm that was more than just the play of her own fingers.”
Micha felt his heart beating rapidly, and his cock about to burst. He heard a noise and moved as fast as he could back into the shadows. A moment later, Ana came back and sat at her computer. She seemed calmer and began to write.
Ana felt as if she was being watched. She’d looked around, but found no one. Turing back to her paper, she proof read it. She was nearly finished, and once she posted it, she could concentrate on her garden once more. Hopefully, she could concentrate and stop having to relieve her aches in the cool dark pool. Biting her lip, she bent to the task.
Micha shifted to ease the ache in his balls and cock. Watching Ana filled him with need. Desire. Feelings that he thought well reined in. Feelings he didn’t want to admit to on any level. He took a deep breath and was in the act of walking away when he heard a low moan. Instinctively, he turned and headed for Ana.
Ana had needed one more bibliography source. She’d told herself that she wouldn’t read the blog. Yet there was another installment on a story she’d been following for weeks. She wrote down the source, and then started to read the story.
“He walked into her office and took her by the shoulders. ‘You’re mine!’ he said in a voice that made her tremble. He kissed her roughly as his hands pulled at her clothing. She nodded in agreement, her lips sealed to his. Buttons popped and the sound of silk tearing filled the quiet office. He swept her desk clear and pushed her down. Tearing off her panties, he thrust his fingers deep in her pussy. She was wet. Soaked. Smiling, he traded his fingers for his cock. Grabbing her hips, he thrust harder and harder as pencils, papers and the phone slid off the desk.”
Ana was instantly hot. Her body ached for release, but she knew that the baths were occupied. She looked around, saw no one and went back to reading. Her hand moved down between her thighs and began to move back and forth.
“He flipped her over and pressed her breasts against the cold glass of the desk. He thrust his fingers inside her wet pussy and smeared her juices up across her ass.
‘No! Please, no!’
He laughed. ‘I said you were mine. All mine.’
She writhed and tried to get away. Her struggles made his cock swell. His hand came down hard on her ass, and spanked her. Gasping, she hated the fact that her pussy was dripping more juice down her thighs. Her traitorous body wanted this. She tried to raise up, but the sweat from her body had pinned her to the glass. She felt pinned, and soon was as his cock coated in her juice thrust into her ass.”
Ana moaned. She bit her lip, and looked around once more. Taking a deep breath, she went back to her paper. Once she finished, she would go back to the story. Forty-five minutes later, she had posted the paper to her superiors. She had an hour left before anyone would complain about the late night computer use. She went back to the story.
Micha ached as he never had before. That moan from Ana had nearly undone his control. He’d walked away, and tried to calm down. Nothing was working. He headed back to the library, and moved to a stack just behind Ana.
“She was in a daze. Her clothes torn, and her body filled with cum. It dripped down her thighs, making them slick, and still her body wanted more. She didn’t understand why. He’d spanked her, fucked her ass and her pussy and she wanted more. He’d walked off after straightening his clothes. Not knowing what else to do, she picked up the stuff that had fallen off of her desk and cleaned things up. When she was finished, she looked around. Nothing was out of place, so she headed home.
The next day, her boss called her into the office. When she entered, he was holding something in his fingers. ‘Can you tell me why I found a number of buttons on the floor?’
She blinked. Her buttons. How had she forgotten to pick them up? ‘Um, no sir.’
‘Oh really? Jefferson! Come in here!’
Jefferson strode into the room, a smile on his face. ‘Yes?’
‘Can you explain why Miss Wilson’s buttons were all over the floor?’
‘Of course. I raped her at her desk last night after work. She must have forgotten to pick them up.’
She couldn’t believe that he’d betray her like that! Her face went red, and she turned to hit him. The blow never fell as a hand grabbed her wrist. She struggled, but the sound of male laughter confused her. Her hands were pulled behind her back and once more, she found herself face down on the desk. Her skirt was pulled up and cool fingers began to probe her tender pussy.
New story… some dragons…
Ana realized she was panting. Her body throbbed and ached with need. Her nipples were tight nubs under her clothes. Holding her thighs tight, she tried to ease the ache deep inside. It wasn’t doing any good. The heat crept up her belly, and she squirmed in the chair.
Pushing the chair back, she stood up and walked away from the computer. The breeze played across her skin as she walked to the window. Outside, the field stretched forever. The forest thrust into the edge of the field, spilling dark shadows deep inside. The field rippled with the breeze, and she closed her eyes.
“This isn’t helping!” Ana walked out of the library and out into the sun. The heat hit her and soaked through her clothing. Stripping off the linen sounded better and better, but she didn’t dare. There were too many people around. Sweat began to bead on her skin. It collected and ran down her body. Between her breast, down the crack of her ass and her thighs were wet. Ana wanted to run, but she had to keep up appearances. Walking at a steady pace, her thighs became wetter and wetter. The throbbing need inside grew. She headed for the garden.
An hour of pulling weeds, hauling compost and water settled Ana’s mind. The dinner gong rang and she headed for the hall. Greeting people with smiles and nods, she picked up her plate and filled it with stew, salad and bread. The mug of spring water was cool in her hand. She sat down next to Micha.
“Hello. How is the research going?”
“Interesting. Difficult, and so much of it. I never knew.”
Micha nodded. “I’ve heard that it is an exhaustive body of work. I admire your efforts. Your strength of character.”
Ana smiled weakly. She didn’t feel strong. They ate their dinner.
“His hands slid over her body, pinching and squeezing as they moved. His cock thrust up into her body, making her mewl with need. She cried out in orgasm, writhing against her bonds. Another cock filled her mouth, silencing her cries.”
Ana’s hand moved down between her thighs, trying to stem the ache. Her hips arched as she rubbed harder. She whimpered and then bit her lip to silence herself. She closed her computer and walked down to the baths. Checking to see it was empty, she dropped her gown and stepped into the cool water. Ana swore that it sizzled as she waded deeper into the pool. When she reached a bench, she sat, and the water came up to her chin. Reaching between her thighs, she touched herself. Fingers rubbed against her clit, the heat that waited exploded. Her hand was engulfed in hot fluids and her mind floated with pleasure.
Ana walked back to the study area, hair dripping, but her mind relieved and body quiet. She opened her computer to a document and wrote more on the report. As she worked, she felt her body heat up once more, and longed for the cool water to slack her desires. Ana smiled briefly. Desires were what she was studying. Her paper was to be a report on human sexuality seen from a series of viewpoints. The purpose was to facilitate counseling and understanding of the human condition. Halfway through her paper, she realized that she needed a reference. With trepidation, she went back to the Internet.
“His cock ached. Looking at Zelda, he realized that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She dropped her towel and knelt between his thighs. Her mouth wrapped around his cock, and licked him until he was slick. Then he lifted her up, and as she straddled him, he lowered Zelda down onto his cock.”
Ana moaned. She stopped it as fast as she could, but wasn’t sure if anyone heard her. Looking around, she saw no one. Jittery, but relieved, she went back to her paper. “I must not get distracted. I must not!”
Micha walked past the library, and saw that a light was still on in one of the stacks. Walking quietly, he saw that it was Ana. Her fingers flew over the keys, and she glanced at her notes from time to time. He watched. Ana looked at her notes and then switched screens. He couldn’t see what was on the computer, but he saw the effect of what she was reading. Her body wriggled. She became more and more distracted, and her hand crept into her lap. His cock hardened as she touched herself. When she moaned, he shuddered. His cock twitched and spurted.
Bette looked at her calendar. Now that she was ‘in training’, all of her weekends were taken up. She hadn’t had a free day for herself in over a month. Once she’d agreed to Sub Training, her life had not been her own. She was still expected to do her work for Lord Duncan during the week and be his social hostess on military weekends. On Family weekends, she was just another sub prey to the whims of Lord Duncan, Declan or Betsy. Betsy, now Mrs. Howell, was the worst of all. Every time Bette forgot to call her Mrs. Howell, there was punishment. Last time she’d had to wash dishes wearing nothing but a waxed apron. She thought she’d die of embarrassment.
Then there were the rules. No panties unless she was on her monthlies. Her bras had been replaced with demi-cups that let her nipples rest just above the cup and rubbed against her clothes. No nighties, and no touching herself at night or any other time unless she was told to do so. On weekends, she was spanked or tied up according to whatever lessons Lord Duncan thought she needed. There were times that she thought she would explode from sheer horniness.
She looked up to see Lord Duncan standing in the doorway. He had a box in his hand. “Yes Sir?”
“This is your outfit for tonight. All the usual rules. Tonight you will serve at a dinner party.” He handed her the box. It was heavier than it looked.
“You understand that this is not a normal dinner party, correct?”
“Yes Sir. I… I will be asked to.. to serve as a sub.”
Lord Duncan smiled. “Indeed. See you at 6 in the formal dining room.” He turned and left before she could reply.
Bette looked at the clock. She’d have ninety minutes if she hurried. Finishing up the last work on her desk, she turned off the light, locked the door and hurried upstairs with the box.
After she showered, Bette opened the box. Inside was a dress made of heavy green satin. The tight waist required the corset that lay under the dress. The stockings were pale with a matching green seam up the back. Just as she was trying to figure out how to get the corset on, there was a knock at her door.
“I’ve come to help you dress,” answered a timid voice.
“Come in.” Bette turned to see Violet, one of the housemaids. “Can you help me with the corset?”
A little self consciously, Bette dropped her dressing gown and Violet wrapped the corset around her body. As Bette lifted and adjusted her breasts, Violet began to lace the back up and pull the laces tight.
“Oh! A little looser?” Bette had never worn a corset of this type. It looked like some Elizabethan or 17th Century reproduction. As with her demi-cup bras, the nipples sat right at the edge of the cup.
“No Miss. Lord Duncan said as tight as I could. Else the dress won’t fit.” Violet pulled once more and then tied the laces. Then she helped Bette with the stockings, making sure the seams were straight and connected firmly to the garters hanging from the bottom of the corset.
“Oh lord.” Bette tried to accustom herself to the constrictions. She took a breath and then Violet helped her into the dress. It buttoned up the back, and when Violet was finished, Bette understood why the corset was needed. The vision of her in the dress was astonishing. Short sleeves just grazed her shoulders while the bodice criss-crossed her bust. The dress just covered her nipples and showed off her breasts. The waist nipped in and then the skirt flowed to the floor as her hips flared outward. The hem skimmed the tops of her feet.
“Lord Duncan wants you to wear these.” Violet held out a pair of moderate yet dainty heels.
Once Bette slipped on the shoes, she sat for Violet to do her hair. It only took a few moments for Violet to produce an elegant upsweep hairdo with a curl cascading down one side. Bette let her apply the makeup as well.
“All finished Miss.” Violet stepped back.
Bette looked into the mirror and barely recognized herself. “Oh.”
“You’d best come now. Dinner is in ten minutes. You won’t want to be late.” Violet opened the door and led Bette down the hall. They headed for the formal dining room that always reminded Bette of just how out of place she felt. All the china, silverware and glasses still confused her at times. She entered to see six other women dressed similarly to herself. Each one wore a different coloured gown. Bette moved to the open chair and stood behind it. She focused her eyes on the table like the other women.
Two minutes later, the dinner gong rang, and the men filed into the room. The men took their places and everyone was seated. While the men were served full portions, each woman was served a smaller portion. Declan sat to her left. Small talk consisted of the weather, holidays or the latest play or film.
When the last plate was cleared, the women were excused while the men had port and cigars. In the smaller parlour, there were glasses of sherry. The women spoke in whispers.
“Can you breathe?”
“No! Nearly fainted when I had to stand.”
“Could barely eat!”
“A crime as it all smelled so good!”
“What’s on after dinner?”
“I don’t know. You?”
“Not a clue.”
“Damn. Figured you might as you work here.”
Bette shook her head. She started to ask one of the other women a question when Violet appeared at the door.
“Ladies, would you follow me?” She led them down the hall to a powder room. “Freshen up and the next part of the evening will begin.” Violet turned and left. The women took turns and then tidied up. When they were all finished, Violet led them through the red leather door, down the hall and into where the gentlemen waited.
“Ladies, please come in.” Lord Duncan gestured as the women hesitated.
Bette took a breath and led the way. They were led to a ring of six chairs.
“You’re all acquainted with the game of musical chairs?”
The women nodded.
“When the music stops, you ladies will take a seat. The one left standing will pay a penalty. The last one sitting will be rewarded. Understood?”
The seven women nodded. The music stared and the women moved around in a circle. When the music stopped, the women dove for a seat. The Yellow silk dress was left standing. Lord Duncan walked over to her and led her off to one side where a small bench stood against the wall. As the rest of the room watched, she was bent over the bench and her skirt was flipped up over her head. She tried to squeeze her legs together, but Lord Duncan kicked them apart. The gentleman with the yellow cravat walked over and proceeded to spank her with his hand until her ass was red, and her pussy dripping. Then she was made to kneel and watch the rest of the game.
Red was the next to be left standing. Her punishment was to have her nipples exposed and silk roses clipped to them. She too knelt and watched.
Blue cried when she was left standing. Her gentleman must have known her well, as a gag was produced and she was cut off mid cry. Then her skirts were lifted and she was whipped with a riding crop until her ass was crimson. She sniveled around the gag as she knelt.
Purple did not scream, or stamp her foot, but just sort of melted to the floor in a puddle of silk. Her gentleman pulled her up and she was then strapped to a St. Andrews cross where her thighs were whipped . She was not taken down, although her juices dripped onto the floor.
Cream nearly took the seat from Bette, but a well placed elbow lost her a place on the chair. Her punishment was a spanking, but when she was finished, her gentleman thrust a dildo up inside, and she was told to hold it there as she knelt.
Bette and Gold circled the chair as tight as possible. Each one waited for the music to stop, and it was a mad scramble when it did. Bette nearly had her ass on the chair when Gold stepped on her foot. Bette cried out and fell to the floor. Declan helped her up and over to the bench. She could barely breathe as she was bent over, and her dress flipped up to expose her ass. She was flushed with embarrassment and lack of air. When the first blow hit, she could barely gasp. The pain ripped through her. The blows fell fast and hard. She lost count, and just as she thought she would pass out, she felt the cool fingers touch her clit. She came explosively and then was stood up. She then knelt next to Cream.
Gold was smiling. She knew she’d be rewarded for winning. Her gentleman stood her up and the chair was replaced with one sporting a didlo in the middle of the seat. She was helped to mount it and found that her feet could just barely reach the floor. She was impaled in a most intimate manner. Then her hands were cuffed behind her and her gentleman unzipped. He grabbed her by the hair and fucked her mouth. As he pumped in and out of her mouth, she was rocked back and forth on the chair. When he came, she was left gagging and dripping with cum. He then offered her to any of the other gentlemen. Purple and Blue availed themselves of her mouth. When they were done, she was moaning and writhing on the chair trying to move enough to make herself come. Each time she came close, her gentleman stopped her. At last, when she begged to come, he reached beneath her skirts and gave her an orgasm. She collapsed in his arms and was removed from the chair.
Bette and the women kneeling were in various states of excitement and dread. Then knew better than to speak, but little moans and whimpers escaped. Their thighs were wet, and their bodies ached for relief. One by one, their gentleman helped them stand. Bette was relieved to stand. She no sooner gained her balance when she was lead to the bench once more. She started to protest when a hand slapped her ass. Then it stroked her pussy. She thought Declan was giving her a treat. Then she realized a second and third hand was touching her. Bette started to raise up and found Declan in front of her with his fly open and cock waiting. As she opened her mouth, he thrust himself inside. The hands on her ass touched, fondled and stroked her. When her concentration failed, she was spanked. Bette gasped and then worked on sucking Declan’s cock. Fingers thrust deep inside her pussy and played with her clit as she sucked. When Declan flooded her mouth, the fingers gave her an orgasm. As she shuddered, the hands pulled her skirt down and helped her stand. When she turned, Lord Duncan smiled at her.
I’m working on part 13 of Twisted Delights. Yes, Actually WRITING! It’s been difficult to get back to a more normal schedule. I’ve got my calendar, meetings, housework and crafts back in order. (okay, Sort of in order!) Now it is time to write. :) Oh, and to get caught up on other peoples blogs! One of the best things was when I checked on my blog stats. I expected to see maybe 10 people had stopped by as it has been so long. Instead, I’ve had lots of people reading all sorts of stories. It made my day.
Wolf has his office set up, and mine is pretty comfy, even if it is just a spot next to the bed. I’m sticking my headphones on and I’m going to tickle that muse until she starts filling my head.
On everything. Reading, writing, laundry… You get the picture. Life has been speeding by, and yet it feels as if we are moving at a snails pace. We are doing alright. A but numb, but alright. The next few days is going to be hectic, as family pours in and we change to a new perspective. My dad passed away yesterday.
Wolf has been such a support, as have many friends. For all of you who have contacted me behind channels, or on this blog, thank you. It means so very much to us. I will be back. I will finish up stories that have been left hanging, and I have a new one on the tip of my fingers.
“She ran. Snow crunched beneath her paws as the muscular legs drove her faster and faster. The whomping sounds over her head drove the pack towards the treeline.
I’m sorry that there has been such a dearth of erotica. I haven’t felt much like writing. I just can’t concentrate. We’ve settled into a new situation, and will get on our feet soon. Now we wait on another event, the passing of my dad. A friend posted a poem that hit me pretty hard as I read it.
O Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
–Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass