Your phone buzzed and, your heart jumping, you glance down at it expectantly. Sure enough, it contains a message from me. You hurriedly unlock your phone and open the app. Enclosed is that day’s story. As your eyes rake the small screen you can feel your pussy grow slick with cum. You find yourself squirming, aching to create contact with something, anything as the story develops. My words never failed to excite you. They were always so detailed and explicit that that you could easily close your eyes and imagine yourself taking the lead role, regardless of how fanciful. Today’s story was no different. Pausing, you close your eyes and picture my strong arms holding close as my cock thrusts in and out of your cunt. You can almost feel my hardness violating your swollen sex, your vaginal walls gripping and tugging as I saw in and out of you. Your hand drifts unconsciously to the outside of your panties, and you are not surprised to find a small patch of wetness. Lately, despite the physical reaction my stories elicited, you could not bring yourself to take it any further and achieve that much desired release. Reluctantly, you move your hand back to your phone and continue scrolling.
Author: helidon08
Secret messages [MF] [public] [anal]
It started out as a joke. We had gotten free passes to learn morse code from a guy off Groupon, and we’d been surreptitiously using it to send messages to each other when we were bored. We turned it into a little bit of a game where one of us would put out a message and see if the other could figure it out. You were much better at it than I was, but I could hold my own. For example, a couple weeks ago, while at an unbelievably boring dinner party, I noticed you were tapping and rubbing a little too rhythmically on my thigh with your finger. *rub rub tab rub rub rub. My brows constricted as I tried to discern your meaning. go? Turning my head slightly to the side, I gave you a quizzical look. With a sigh, you started from the top. l-e-t-s-g-o. Smiling as comprehension dawned on me, I grabbed your hand with mine and gave it a squeeze.
“Sorry guys, but we’re going to have to take off; I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” I announced to the table. A fair amount of pleading from the others ensued, but I held my group until we were able to leave. Both of us started laughing as the apartment door behind us closed.
The drip that burns [MF] [waxplay] [anal]
The first thing you notice when you open the door is that the bag I’ve brought with me is much larger than usual. As I set the bag down you can hear the click of glass, prompting you to ask, “What’s in the bag?” I simply smile and take you into my arms and silently kiss you. When we part, I take your hand and lead you over to the soft chair beside the bed. Slowly and purposefully, I remove all of your clothing and, after folding it, place it on the dresser. I smile as I gaze upon your nude form before extracting a piece of black cloth from my pants pocket. As I step closer you can see that it’s a blindfold. Stepping behind you, I quickly slide it over your head extinguishing all light, before guiding you down onto the chair.
Your vision obscured, you are forced to rely on your other senses. You can hear me walk away, and the clink of glass again as I pick up the bag and set it on the bed. You sit patiently in darkness as I move around the room placing objects at various points throughout the room, each placement is followed by a clicking sound which you realize is a lighter after the subtle scent of burning candles fills the room. Suddenly, my lips are pressing into yours once more and our tongues dance as they flit back and forth.
Netflix and [spanking] [MF]
You can feel my heart beating rhythmically through your cheek as it rests on my chest. You can feel my arm wrapped around you, my fingers lightly caressing your shoulder. My touch sends a tingle down your arm. The movie on the bedroom television is a discussing the 50 shades of grey books, and outlining how they are a mockery of the BDSM culture and generally terribly written. A women, a proprietor of some sex shop by the look of it, is describing the six hundred-odd percent increase in sales that followed the release of the trilogy. She describes an anecdote where an eighty year-old woman came in and purchased her first vibrator.
“That’s both amazing and revolting at the same time” I exclaim.
“I think it’s sort of sweet” you argue, “that little old lady is finally able to ignore the stigma and take her pleasure into her own hands in a new and exciting way.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” I start, “I think it’s wonderful that she was influenced to seek out her own happiness, but the idea of an eighty year-old masturbating isn’t what I would consider arousing.”
Late nights (part I) [MF] [orgasm control/denial] bdsm] [anal] [impact] [Mdom] [bondage] [public]
The ding of a notification jolts you from the dreary monotony of your daily work. Your hand flies to your phone, which was sitting surreptitiously next to your keyboard, and your heart jumps when you see the sender and the first line of text. Hastily, you key in your passcode and open the app to read the message in its entirety.
**I hope you’re not too busy after work, because I have plans for you**
You read through the cryptic message several times before you commit to a response. Thumbing it in, you hesitate for the briefest moment before hitting send. You’re certain he won’t elaborate with any specificity, but you can’t resist an attempt. Seconds tick by, and your eyes drift out of focus as you stare at your message, waiting for him to read it. Simultaneously, the little “D” next to your response switches to an “R” and ellipses pop up to indicate his incoming answer. In an instant, two more messages appear, one right after another .
**Patience is a virtue, hun.**
**You’ll have to wait.**
Breakfast [MF] [bdsm] [Mdom] [begging] [orgasm control/denial]
I open my eyes to a metallic clang coming from the kitchen, and I immediately sense your absence. My left arm still bears the signs of your cuddling with me through the night, and I smile as I recall the event of the prior evening. I let out a low sigh as I stretch before exiting the bedroom, curious to discover what new culinary adventure we’ll be exploring today. After a brief stop in the bathroom, I round the corner and catch my first glimpse of your lithe form. You’re silhouetted in the morning sun cascading through the kitchen windows. I can’t help but pause and take in your beautiful and your absurd attire. Your back is to me and you’re standing on your toes, with one hand leaning against the counter, and reaching into the upper cabinet. The apron is flowing lightly around you, tied in the back, and the only other stitch of clothing is a pair of pale pink panties.
Smiling, I walk up behind you silently and, placing one arm around your waist, press my lips into the soft flesh of your neck just below your right ear.
“Can I help you with something?”
Fun with my assistant part I [MF] [bdsm] [rape] [anal] [impact play]
Eliza gripped the white leather armrest as the Gulfstream lurches, the wheels screeching as they meet the cold tarmac. Eight trips in as many weeks and she still isn’t accustomed to flying. She leans forward, her auburn locks falling over her face, as she tries to control her breathing. The plane is a modified G650 owned by Jones & Hastings L.L.C., the large law firm where she was employed as personal assistant to Brian Jones. The cabin had been stripped down to only allow seating for eight in order to make room for the large conference table in the rear of the plane.
Mr. Jones looked up from the papers spread on the table, “For Christ’s sake Elli, I thought you took some fucking dramamine before we left Chicago.”
“I did,” she replies. God she hated it when he called her Elli. Of all the iterations of her name, Elli was the one that made her hair stand on end. It was what her bastard of an ex-boyfriend used to call her.
“Well go to the bathroom and get yourself together. This is a huge case and I need you to be on point.”
Smack [MF] [oral] [impact play] [public]
*Smack!*
The sound of a hard object on flesh jerks me into consciousness. My nostrils fill with your sweet, musky scent intermingling with some other acidic odor as my eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness of the room. As the room slowly comes into focus, I’m aware of a chill on my cock and balls. The room is nearly black and only lit by a crack of light emanating from beneath the closed door in which my back is pressed. Even though I cannot yet see anything, the oppressive darkness is impenetrable, I can sense another person in the room with me. Instantly my hands jump to my crotch where I discover they are coated with a thick liquid. Completely confused, I grope around in the darkness for a lightswitch. Finally, my fumbling fingers locate one next to me on the wall and I snap it upward. The CF bulb ignites, but barely, and I jump as I see you sitting on the linoleum floor, legs spread in front of you and your hand raised over your head. In you hand you are gripping a small, flat, wooden spatula. Before I can react you swing it downward in a tight arc and it makes contact with the top of your cleft.