Author: IrishRose888

Your hands.

As you held my face in your weathered hands,

I savoured the touch of your calloused palms.

Hands that brought me untold pleasures,

They held the key to forbidden treasures.

Fingers traced cold, pale, freckled skin,

Stoking the fire you ignited within.

Caressing the snow covered peaks of my chest,

Fanning the flames that now burned in my breast.

Blood ablaze, rushing to the surface,

To greet your touch as it fuels the furnace.

Sparking a chain reaction like a Molotov

In the bud of my rose and the petals of –

the flower that blooms in those delicate flames.

I combust like a firecracker, calling your name.

I fly high, a phoenix rising from the ashes.

But the embers still glow as the firestorm passes.

Blazing a trail to undiscovered lands,

That’s what you did with your beautiful hands.

[FM] Dear John.

I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing right now. I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, you deleted your account afterall. That means you probably no longer have any of the pictures I sent you. You can’t read all of our heated exchanges again. You wouldn’t want your sweet wife to find images of my soft white skin, my red panties, my bare breasts. Or see the filthy letters of lust we wrote to one another. You wouldn’t want that, and neither would I. I don’t want to get you into trouble. I don’t want to hurt you, or her.

I’m a good girl, afterall. You knew that. You knew I never would have sent you any of those explicit pictures if I had known you belonged to another woman. I wouldn’t have described in vivid detail all of the things I would let you do to this body of mine. I wouldn’t have exposed myself to you, body and soul; made myself vulnerable and helpless against your wants and desires. I wouldn’t have touched myself day after day, over and over to those pictures of your beautiful cock. That beautiful cock I would worship endlessly, move mountains to get my hands on. I wouldn’t have spent hours pleasuring myself while imagining all of the filthy things we would do if I was ever lucky enough to find myself in your arms, in your bed. Read more »

[MF] Freed by your restraints. (Part 2: A beautiful monster) [non-con/dub-con] [rough] [mutual masturbation] [throat fucking]

I wake up feeling groggy, like I’ve slept for days yet haven’t slept enough. Soft morning sunlight pouring in my window, the sound of birds sweetly singing outside. It takes me a little while to fully come around. I rub my eyes and yawn, when suddenly flashes of the previous night flicker through my sleepy mind. The powder blue silk, the restraints holding my wrists and ankles in place, the fear, soft olive skin and piercing brown eyes, the pleasure and the pain. The unparalleled ecstasy I felt…and the shame that twisted pleasure bore within me. Was it all a dream? A nightmare?

I quickly find my answer hanging in the air; The musky intoxicating scent of a man still lingers there and floats around me. I look down and see that I am no longer restrained, no longer dressed in powder blue, or anything for that matter. This isn’t very unusual as I often sleep in the nude in the summer months. I wonder if my sense of smell has deceived me.. Was it all a fever dream afterall? Then I see it. My heart skips a beat. On the chaise long beside my bed. A baby pink lace garment of some sort, not mine. Draped over the pretty lace is what looks like sheer white thigh high stockings; on top of which lies a hand written note. The penmanship is quite elegant. I pick it up and read it. “Good morning, my pretty little doll. I missed you when you were sleeping. I texted your boss and told her you’re not feeling well, so we have all day to play. Take a shower and slip into this. I’ll be with you soon. I’m making you breakfast”. Read more »

[MF] Freed by your restraints. (Part 1) [Rape fantasy][non-con][forced oral]

I’m running in the little secluded park just outside the wealthy community I live in. It’s a warm summer night, the soft breeze is a welcome relief against my hot, sweaty skin. The sun has just set so I’ve decided to head back home. It isn’t very far but I’m anxious to get home before the night
fully descends. You never know who could be out there on the prowl..

I’m wearing my typical workout gear, charcoal grey leggings and a black sports bra peeking through a sheer magenta pink tank top. My breasts never look better than they do in a good sports bra, lifted and pushed together by the tight, supportive fabric which lifts and accentuates my modest C cup cleavage. My long thick hair pulled back into a messy bun, soft bangs framing my blue eyes and impossibly pale skin. An English Rose complexion, so I’ve been told. But my most obvious feature is my ample derriere. Round and firm, made more striking by my disproportionately dainty waist. I’m the type of woman who usually dresses conservatively, whom despite being in my early thirties, is often described as “cute” but rarely sexy. Perhaps that’s why this form-fitting attire makes me feel good, sensual even. I relish every lingering look I get from male passers by, walking their dogs or out for a run. Read more »