collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
***Your satin’s touch***
***Like feather’s kiss***
***All black and lace***
***In moonlight bliss***
***Ardor smolders***
***Upon your face***
***Your body arched***
***Desiring taste***
***Our lips shall meet***
***Our passions pour***
***And silk soon drops,***
***Pools on the floor***
***Its lure: a call,***
***A fuse for need***
***It wrapped you well***
***And now we feed.***
*The thrum of your pulse*
*The feel of your need*
*The taste of your kiss*
*The pull of my greed*
*Needing, we bite*
*Craving, we feast*
*Your untamed spirit*
*My feral beast*
*Tangled and taking*
*Bathed in moonlight*
*Singing our need*
*Into the night*
*Midnight cravings*
*Candlelight*
*Minds entwined*
*In Lust’s delight.*
*Drawn at once*
*Through eve’ning flame*
*Hunger whisp’ring*
*Lover’s name.*
*Kindred bodies*
*Passion lithe*
*In the Dark*
*Bring me alive.*
I enjoy being in control, but only sometimes. A struggle for control can be intoxicating, when both lovers are eager for it. But there are different types of control, aren’t there?
And so I find myself beneath you, watching your hips rock in slow, deliberate motions, watching your lips fall open, taking in the sight of your pleasure at feeling me full inside you. Yet that red blindfold covering your eyes, the way my hands hold as firm but gentle guides aside your hips, and, most especially, the silken black scarves that bind your wrists to the headboard… You may have some power in this position, lover, but you’re hardly in control.
My eyes travel your skin, your form, watching your breath come faster as you feel me swell inside you. I can see your hands grasping at your bonds, your arms reaching over my head, your hair framing your face as you lean forward, aching for more. Mmm, I grow harder with your every audible gasp, and I know we both want more, faster, to ride the intensity as it grows…but my hands stay on your hips, forcing you to be patient, to keep your pace, just a little while longer.
I’ve listened to you in your shower: your moans, your cries of need, your squeals as the water licks your body and you lose yourself to wicked thoughts of being taken. Your voice drives me crazy, and I’m throbbing even more knowing that what inspired you was the story I left for you to read, and my dare to act out your desires after you’d read it. Your moans subside, the water shuts off, and I wait, secretly, in your bedroom closet.
You soon enter from your bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Your hair is still wet. Your bare legs catch my eye as you cross the room. I wait until you pass me, then steal in behind you. Strong arms strong encircle you as my body presses in against your backside. Along your shoulder, my kiss meets your skin before I glide my tongue inward to your neck, then up to your ear.
“You taste delicious, lover. Warm, damp…”
At your moan I press closer, heated by the sound.
“I heard you in the shower,” I continue. “Do you have any idea how hot it gets me to listen to you? How hard it was to resist joining you in that shower? To surprise you while you moaned?”
My mouth runs up your leg. My hands slide down your thigh-high stockings. Moans glide like fire across your skin, a lick of my tongue, a growl of hunger as my hands slide back up your thighs to your hips. A look up to your eyes shows my own, dark with lust, wild with need for you. Your hips lift of your own desire as I push your skirt higher, knowing that we’re not nearly alone enough, knowing someone might come through your office door, yet neither of us able to stop.
Wet fire meets your pussy as I kiss you there, full and deep, tongue stroking over your heat to flick across your clit. Just the feel of you has me hard, so hard, and growing harder as I moan from the pleasure of tasting you. I feel your grip on my head, pulling me closer. Licks flash over your clit, then delve into your folds as moans hum against you. With each lick I wheel your office chair backward, backward, until it’s against the door, blocking it.
His arms locked around her, eager muscle, entrapping her in the shower steam. His mouth fell upon her neck, devouring, overpowering as she melted back into him. His chest on her back, hard, strong, drenched in the shower’s heat. His heart pounded against her skin, need calling to her own as hands cupped her, explored her, claimed her. She gave herself to it, eager to lose herself, to grow overwhelmed in this moment of forbidden lust with a stranger lured into the gym shower with only a wink and the bite of her lip.
Midnight approaches, wrapped in candles and the liquid taste of vibrant passion. Vanilla flavors the air, mixing with the taste of her breath as he kissed her in that endless kiss that washed over them in time with the pound of her heart. He held her to him, feeling that trembling beat that called to him through the crush of her breasts on his chest. Her lips were luxury, delicate petals of crimson that drew him ever nearer, ever deeper down into the glory of her soul.
She had captured him, pulled him, and he had answered with tender touch cloaked in the fiercest passions. Their kiss overtook them, growing from eager mouths to the touch of hands, exploring fingertips, the entwining of legs and the press of their fire. Clothing fell forgotten as their bodies spread across the satin, wrapped completely in the sensation of touch and intimate currents of pleasure given. Bodies moved like spirits as moans called out in the night. The candles faded to nothing, and still they moved in endless need, joined as one and stroking deeply towards the crest of shared pleasure. Muscles worked, hands clasped, and kisses broke against overwhelming moans like waves on the shore.
***”Alright, I’m going to go work out.”***
I glance up from–I no longer recall. The sight of you has already chased other thoughts from my mind. Gray sweats, a tightly supportive top that leaves your midriff bare, and your smile. That smile.
“Oh, are you now?”
I stand, eyes locked to yours, unblinking as I cross the room to you. Your smile falters, in the best way, and as your hand floats up to rest just below your neck, I know you know what I’m thinking. What I’m wanting.
“Y-yes.”
“Mmm.”
Eyes still locked on yours, I reach out to catch the front waistband of your sweats. I can feel the bare skin of your lower stomach on the backs of my fingers, warm, enticing, as I pull you to me. My mouth is moments from yours as I hold you in my grip, my gaze: a heated stare that takes you in. Our kiss is a breath away. My heart beats faster, blood rushing through my body that was already stirring from the sight of you. I can see, and feel, your own breath growing just a little more ragged.
The command comes whispered in your ear as we stand together, chatting with friends around the party’s snack table:
***”Get in the hall closet. Close the door. Close your eyes, and wait for me there.”***
I give you a firm squeeze before letting you slip out of my arm as you excuse yourself from the conversation to feign looking for the bathroom. Can you feel my eyes on you, watching you go? Can you feel the heat of my gaze on the small of your back, your ass, your legs? Do you know that my hand has slipped into my pocket where I’m keeping the thong I told you to strip off from under your dress and give to me in the car before we entered the party?