The Sundown Motel

The windshield wipers flashed back and forth across the window, fighting the rain at the same intensity her heart seemed to race. Feeling as though it was moments from beating out of her chest. 

One… 

Two…

Three… 

She counted the movements, simply trying to catch her breath and regain her composure. 

As she pulled in the parking lot, she flipped her headlights off, even before approaching the parking spot next to the room. This night had been planned, but nothing else beyond this moment was certain. 

Pulling into the space, she closed her eyes and took deep solemn breaths as she composed herself. Her mind raced, “What am I doing… this is so unlike me… I can’t…” However, something surrounding the mystery of the evening was intriguing her. She was well aware, she couldn’t merely shrug it off and go about her life without seeing this through to the end. 

Abruptly breaking from her thoughts, she grabbed her purse and a few other items… Mainly for any onlookers to feign to believe she was there for more reputable reasons than were the reality. 

Milk & Cookies

The girls followed along, close in tow ready to move the merchandise and earn another badge of appreciation for their commitment.

The big business was found in the less traveled neighborhoods, one’s off the beaten path. Every door held another wealthy family who would gladly avoid the judgment of their neighbors, if they passed on the opportunity to contribute to a “good cause.”

The girls were eager, but the fake introductions had grown tiresome. 

Finally reaching one of the last doors of the night. On routine: they knocked; all giggling with the excitement of beating the other troops, selling the most, etc. 

The door opened, revealing a man in jeans, buttoned but unzipped, and a t-shirt clearly thrown on in a rush unsuspecting of visitors. 

She introduced herself as the troop leader as the girls giggled and kept interjecting with, “want to buy cookies… we have all kinds… we need to sell them all before…”

The man’s eyes never left hers, he stood – despite being slightly underdressed – handsome, confident, and assured of himself in a way she found alluring. 

Good Clean Fun

The warm water washed up my arms, dampening the front of my shirt as I leaned against the edge of the counter. Continuing as if on autopilot, my hands circled the dishes. Another one of the daily chores that continued to add up, equaling the sum of life. 

He entered the door from behind, unaware of his presence, kidnapped by my own thoughts, I was absorbed in the task at hand.

Startled out of my mental vacation, I felt his arms begin to wrap around my waist as the rest of him pressed me tight against the counter. Through the pressure, I felt his erection pressing firmly against my butt. 

The awareness of his arousal heightened my sensuality as I shift on my left leg, repositioning to kiss him. As soon as my lips touched his, felt his hand as it began to reach my breast. My nipples were erect from the dampness that was now brought cold from the air that was surrounding us.

The Upside of Anger

As I lay motionless, absorbed in thought and distracted by the speculations of what tomorrow would bring. It was dark, but not dark enough to hide his silhouette as he crossed the doorway into the bedroom. 

I could smell him before he neared the bed, the sweet scent of cologne mixed with sweat from a long day. A scent that I had grown to associate with dark nights, cut by the sound of gasping breaths. 

Tonight, I knew I wanted him before he even arrived. I was wearing a nice set of red lingerie, I picked them out specifically with him in mind. I had waited, distracted perhaps but also attentive to his arrival. 

As he approached, I could sense a difference in his demeanor: something strong and dark that wanted out. It wasn’t stated, but the minute I felt his touch on my arm, I knew it was there – awaiting it’s escape and brought to life through action. 

His touch on my arm began to get firmer, more direct and intentional: the tension tightened as his fingers grasped my arm, pulling me up from my restless state. 

Power Play

Everyday I go to work, carrying on with my life as your average, everyday human. Toying away with the usual 9-5 routine, awaiting my escape from the monotonous and repetitive; in no way was this the life I lived for.

Walking out of the confines of a reality that society forced upon me, I began to plot out the person the night would call me to be: Mistress V: A person that no one would imagine in dress slacks and a button up blouse.

Underneath this jovial cover was a dark and overpowering presence. I wasn’t born with this presence. Instead it was created out of the pain and hatred that came when my life and freedom were seemingly torn away by an experience that showed no empathy or remorse for stealing something that should be sacred: innocence.

Nightfall returned all that I thought was lost: It gave me the power, control, and status I longed for. All the insecurities and self doubt slipped away as I began my transformation.

Wet Dream

She stood alone and motionless. Leaning her head back allowing the water to wash down her body; as quickly as the thoughts of the daily to-do flooded her mind. The tussle of this, that, and the other obligations brought her the same inner turmoil as usual. Beginning to take long deep breaths, clarity began to enter as her mind began to quiet – sensing the calm that was to come. 

Slowly she comes to: recognizing the presence of another as the shower door begins to open. Bare and natural she turns to investigate. Standing naked, and vulnerable – water dripping from her nipples and racing down her back – feeling the warmth of its essence as it trickles down her butt.

For a moment that seems endless, he holds her in his gaze. His eyes exploring the curves, glistening from the water. 

No words are spoken as he begins to unbutton his pants and dropping them to the floor, she sees his inviting bulge – pressing on the cotton of his underwear. He moves to remove his shirt, the broad shoulders and thick arms exposed. 

The Thunder Rolls

Sunlight kissed my skin: a warm day, but not one that is humid and unbearable. The kind that is comforting – like the worlds reminder of a gentle peace: an unspoken promise of the beauty it holds. 

We are laying in a grass clearing with the rolls of thunder being heard in the distance. It’s dusk with a light glow of the sun closing upon the world. As the time ticks the masses inside the comfort of their homes – we both sit in a moment that seems unchanged by times’ pressure to resign for the day. 

The blanket is soft with the cushion of grass below it. I’m wearing a thin black tank top, my nipples can be seen through slightly, a pair of denim shorts just slightly too small – as the curves of my inner thighs can be seen as an inviting gesture of intimacy. 

Beside me, he is wearing shorts and a black t-shirt, his broad shoulders test the integrity of the cotton seams. 

Imagination

She walked through life on autopilot. A place in her heart where passion and desire once rest, lay a scab. She fiddled with men like toys, distributing the same pain and torment she felt as a means of rectifying the trust and love she felt she had lost.

The world became a sea of emptiness. Sure, there were “plenty of fish” in it, but none of them seemed to fix the wounds she was left with.

The joy she had once known, seemed depleted. The hole was filled with work and responsibilities.

Anything just to fill that empty feeling, a directionless march through life.

Unsuspecting and unaware, she slowly let the armor down and felt vulnerability unveil itself. She noticed that eager spring in her step and the thoughts that come with: something disguised as joy began to appear.

As she woke in the mornings, it was the first thing her mind played with. As she checked her phone throughout the day, a flooding rush of adrenaline overcame her body.

She looked for an escape to safety, but the allure of some break from the pain seemed comfortable and inviting.

Back to Reality

I find myself sitting on a bed in a dark hotel room, facing a window with the luminescence of the parking lot lights shining through a partial opening in the curtains. 

Despite the chill of cold, I’m topless with black lacy underwear: my knees are up, pressed against my breast and my hands are crossed hugging my legs close to my chest for warmth. 

I feel him from behind, as he pulls my hair back, revealing and kissing me on my neck. His hand touches my elbow and softly follows my skin along my forearm up to my hand, intertwining his fingers in mine. 

On my neck I feel his mouth slightly open and his tongue increases the intensity of the kiss, then he begins to lick from my neck up to my earlobe, biting softly. His hand then moves from my hand and traces along down the outline of my leg, which are still pressed against my breast. 

I begin to feel my heart rate quicken in intensity. As I slowly separate my legs, he responds to the invitation and traces his fingers softly towards my inner thigh. 

Power Play

Everyday I go to work, carrying on with my life as your average, everyday human. Toying away with the usual 9-5 routine, awaiting my escape from the monotonous and repetitive; in no way was this the life I lived for.

Walking out of the confines of a reality that society forced upon me, I began to plot out the person the night would call me to be: Mistress V: A person that no one would imagine in dress slacks and a button up blouse.

Underneath this jovial cover was a dark and overpowering presence. I wasn’t born with this presence. Instead it was created out of the pain and hatred that came when my life and freedom were seemingly torn away by an experience that showed no empathy or remorse for stealing something that should be sacred: innocence.

Nightfall returned all that I thought was lost: It gave me the power, control, and status I longed for. All the insecurities and self doubt slipped away as I began my transformation.