Tag Archives: adult stories

“Veteran Vixens” A Sexy Short Story For Veteran’s Day

charisa-littlejohn

The following is a sexy short story I wrote in honor of Veteran’s Day. I have veterans in my family and I’ve come to know plenty throughout my life. They are special souls and this story is dedicated to them. Enjoy!

“Veterans Day,” said former army grunt Matthew Antos, “a day I guess I’m supposed to look forward to. I guess that also means I should be happy for all the parades, salutes, and PSAs. And yet…”

He let his words trail off as he gazed out the window of his Washington DC hotel, watching as parade streets were cordoned off in anticipation of the big parade that afternoon. In a few hours, he was scheduled to don his army uniform and march with his old unit down the street, waving to cheering crowds praising them for their service. That was the public spectacle of Veterans Day. In private, however, things weren’t always so honorable.

Matthew had debated whether he should even show up. He’d been discharged from the army three months ago after serving for three years. He’d spent time overseas, making his way through a number of war zones and living the rigid life of a military man. That meant playing by the rules, serving his country, and being a hardened soldier. He did all of that in hopes of achieving more, but he didn’t expect to lose so much along the way.

“What’s wrong with me?” Matthew asked himself. “I put in the time. I did my part. I came back in one piece, despite getting yelled at, shot at, and beaten up a few times. Why do I still feel so…numb to it all?”

He’d been asking himself that question since he got home. It had kept him up at night, so much so that he suffered frequent insomnia. It was almost easier when he’d been recovering from a shrapnel wound he endured a couple years ago. At least with that, he knew the cause of the discomfort. He knew how to tough it out. That was what soldiers did.

After coming home, nothing was that simple and it bugged the hell out of him. Ironically, he’d left his home initially because it was too simple. His parents didn’t have the money to send him to college, his grades hadn’t been that great, and he wasn’t able to get a scholarship. His uncle, a former marine, sold him on joining the military. Given all the benefits that came with dutiful service, it seemed like the best decision he could’ve made.

What his uncle didn’t tell him, however, was how hard it was to get back to civilian life once the guns stopped firing and the drill instructors stopped yelling. He also didn’t mention the price soldiers paid when serving. By being away, doing their duty, they couldn’t be there for friends, family, and loved ones. It was a tough price, but Matthew learned the hard way how hard it could be.

“Dale…Jenny…Reggie…Sybil,” he said.

Those were just some of the names of old friends who had died since he joined. They had been among those who waved goodbye and smiled when he left. Now, they were gone and he wasn’t even there for their funeral.

“Darren…Joey…Mac…Alvin,” Matt continued.

Those names were even harder to say. They were some of the fellow soldiers he’d met during his time in the service. He’d grown close to them. However, they weren’t going to be joining him on the parade. That was because they paid the ultimate price for their service. Some had wives, kids, and families. He didn’t and that just wasn’t fair on any level.

Recalling those names and the faces behind them were painful enough. However, in particular stung the most.

“Mom,” he said, his voice finally cracking.

Swallowing a hard lump of sorrow, Matthew turned away from the window and sat down at the foot of his bed. Swearing only a pair of dirty jeans, he buried his face in his hands as he tried to shut out the pain that hurt more than any shrapnel wound.

It was an unflattering act for a battle-hardened soldier, fighting off tears. Being a soldier meant holding them back, no matter how much it pained him. He’d been lying in a hospital bed, getting an IV drip when his commanding officer dropped by to give him the news. His mother had passed away after getting injured in a traffic accident.

There was nothing he could’ve done. There was no way to change it. Had he been there, he probably would’ve been in the car with her and died by her side. Instead, he’d been serving overseas, protecting his country while the life he’d built within it just fell apart without him. Everything just became so detached.

On one hand, he was held up as a good soldier so served his country honorable. On the other, he was a stranger in his own home town again. The people he loved were gone. The life he left behind was no more. He had no other skills beyond what the army had taught him. He’d never felt so alone before.

Even so, Matthew was expected to put on a strong face that afternoon and lead the parade. Even the trained soldier in him wasn’t sure he could pull it off.

“I’m supposed to be stronger than this,” Matt told himself. “Hell, this whole day is for vets like me! The whole country wants to thank me, but I still feel so goddamn alone.”

The former army grunt looked at his uniform, which he’d neatly folded on a chair. At some point, he was going to have to put it on. He was going to have to pretend that he felt so welcome and honored by the country he loved. He just wished he didn’t have to pretend.

As Matthew lamented over the conflict raging within, he heard a knock at his hotel door. The soldier in him reacted quickly. He didn’t remember calling one of his old squad mates or ordering room service. Curious, he got up and answered.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“A proud volunteer for Veteran Vixens!” a female voice said from the other side.

“Veteran Vixens? What the hell is that?”

Curious, and a little annoyed, Matthew opened the door to see an unexpected sight. Standing right there in front of him was a beautiful young woman wearing camouflage pants, a tight-fitting green T-shirt, and black boots. At first, he thought she was one of the female soldiers set to attend the parade, but quickly ruled that out because she wore way too much makeup and did not stand like a trained soldier.

However, she definitely carried herself like someone on a mission.

“Hello former Private Matthew Antos,” the woman greeted. “My name is Angela Maxwell. I’m the proud daughter of a marine and a major supporter of Veteran Vixens.”

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said, “but I’m still waiting to hear what that is and why you’re at my hotel room.”

“I’m here alongside other proud volunteers. You see, we at Veteran Vixens believe in honoring our nation’s veterans, especially in Veteran’s Day. However, we don’t believe that just throwing them a parade is sufficient. We feel our brave men in uniform deserve a more direct form of appreciation.”

The young woman’s voice took on a distinctly seductive tone. She then took a step closer, cast him a playful smile, and lightly pawed his exposed upper body. It caught Matt by surprise, but he didn’t object. If anything, her warm touch gave him some much-needed soothing. He might not have been a good student in high school, but he could already see where she was going.

“Well, soldier…mind if I come in?” Angela asked.

“Um…sure,” Matt said on instinct, his mind already racing.

He led her into his room. She then closed the door behind her, but not before putting the “do not disturb” tag on the knob. It left even less ambiguity behind her intentions, but that only raised more questions.

“Please tell me you’re not some elaborate prank from my squad,” Matt said. “I don’t think I can handle that crap on a day like this.”

“Relax,” Angela assured him, “they didn’t send me. However, one of your old officers told our organization that you were a veteran in need.”

“It can’t have been Sergeant Mixon. He’s the only officer who knows me well enough, but there’s no way the same hard-ass who made me do 100 push-ups at a time sent a beautiful woman to my hotel room on Veteran’s Day.”

“It was him,” she said curtly, “and when he told me what you’d been through the past few years, I jumped at the chance to thank you.”

“I’m still having a hard time believing that…or that this Veteran Vixens is even a thing.”

“I assure you it’s very real. It’s also exactly what you think it is…and then some.”

Her voice got even more seductive. Then, before they even left the foyer, she affectionately pulled him into a light embrace. It left Matt stunned and frozen in place, but in a good way. It had been a while since he’d experienced that kind of intimate touch. Having been living in barracks full of men for years, it was a nice change of pace, among other things.

As she embraced him, he saw a sexy, yet genuine intent in her eyes. It was like she could see the wounds and scars that were so unique to veterans. It helped convince him that she wasn’t just some pretty girl his squad mates had paid to mess with him. She was serious about helping a veteran in need and not just with a simple salute.

“We at Veteran Vixens have a simple philosophy,” Angela said while trailing her hand over the sinews of his chest. “An honorable soldier deserves more than basic platitudes on a day like this.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Matt pointed out.

“Except, we seek to provide something more intimate to show gratitude,” she went on. “Many of us are the daughters, sisters, cousins, and friends of such soldiers. As such, we have more incentive than most to offer that kind of gratitude.”

“And just what kind are we talking about here?” he asked, as though it weren’t obvious enough.

Angela grinned playfully. Then, just as her soft fingers had finished tracing over his chest, she broke the embrace and stepped back towards the bed. Once in the center of the room, the beautiful young woman stripped out of her clothes. She wasn’t casual about it, either. She took them off as though she were a stripper giving him a private show.

Matt, still frozen, remained in the foyer as he gazed in awe at the spectacle before him. That generic military garb she’d been wearing hid a very feminine, very sexy body. She hadn’t even been wearing a bra when she took off her shirt, her well-developed breasts tumbling out with ease. He couldn’t even tell if she’d been wearing panties, either. As soon as she slipped out of her camouflage pants, she stood completely naked.

He must have looked very undisciplined, especially for a soldier, gawking at a beautiful naked woman. Angela didn’t seem to mind, though. She even seemed to pose a little, making it so he had a perfect view of her breasts, legs, and hips. She made no effort to hide her beauty as she casually sat down on the bed and lightly spread her legs, revealing her unobstructed womanhood.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” Matt said in a daze, “and I’m not just saying that as a man who lived in an all-male barracks for over three years.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Angela said with a snicker. “I’m also sure you and your fellow vets didn’t get many changes for friendly female company while serving.”

“That’s both accurate and necessary, to some extent.”

“Well, you’re not in a war zone anymore. You’re not on duty or in basic training. You’re a veteran on Veteran’s Day…one who happens to be alone and struggling.”

“Something else I’m sure Sergeant Mixon told you,” Matt said. “How much else did he tell you?”

“Enough to know you’ve had it rough since coming home. There’s only so much anyone can do to make it easier for a veteran, but pretty girls like me…girls who happen to have a thing for strapping young vets in need of comfort…we can do more than most.”

She then scooted back on the bed, leaning on one arm and while gesturing towards him with the other. It was not an act of temptation at that point. It was an invitation.

“Come,” Angela offered, “as a participant in Veteran Vixens, I offer myself too you completely. Consider me some well-earned, much-needed, all-American pussy on behalf of those who appreciate your service!”

“That sounds so crazy, but makes so much fucking sense,” Matt said.

“Then, what are you waiting for, soldier boy? Get those pants off so we can start appreciating!”

Soldiers trying to re-enter civilian life often faced an existential crisis whenever their time with the military ended. It often left them in a conflicted state and there weren’t many forces in the world that could jar them from it. A beautiful naked woman, offering unfretted sex, was one of the few.

At that moment, Matthew Antos remembered that he wasn’t just a former soldier trying to make sense of his post-military life. He was also a healthy young heterosexual man who had not been laid since his ex-girlfriend broke up with him during a video chat two years ago. His mind and spirit might be damaged, but his dick still worked.

“Fuck, that’s the best order I’ve gotten in years!” he said, finally cracking a smile for the first time in weeks.

With energy that would’ve crushed any basic training course, Matthew shed his pants and underwear. He didn’t bother hiding the scars from the shrapnel wound on his abdomen. He didn’t care that he hadn’t shaved in over a week, either. As far as he was concerned, the universe just threw him a life preserver. He had been close to just losing it and here was a beautiful woman who wanted to help him. Who was he to refuse?

“Looks like someone aced his training regime,” Angela commented, her eyes narrowing on his athletic frame.

“Being fit is just part of being capable,” Matt said as he eagerly climbed onto the bed with her.

“Is that something you guys say in the army?”

“No. It’s just basic logistics.”

As if to demonstrate those capabilities, Matthew got on top of the woman and wrapped her in his powerful arms. He then smothered her face, neck, and cleavage with his lips, tasting her womanly flesh as though it were his favorite desert. He wasn’t gentle or careful. He was a soldier. Neither a battlefield nor a beautiful woman intimidated him. He wasn’t just willing to embrace her. He was willing to take her fully, as only a veteran could.

“Oohhh! What a good soldier!” Angela cooed.

“That turn you on?” he said in an assertive, soldier-like tone. “Does a horny, restless vet make you wet?”

“Hell yeah!”

She could’ve just been saying that, but body language didn’t lie. The way she dug her nails into his shoulder and grinded her hips against his revealed the truth. She really was getting horny. Matt could already feel the heat radiating from her inner thighs.

Seeking to build his own arousal, the eager veteran continued making out with her. He kissed and caressed her naked body while she pawed his manly sinews. As their bodies became more acquainted, years of pent up sexual energy quickly caught up with him. His dick got fully erect faster than he thought possible. Either he was really that horny or he’d been that deprived of intimate contact.

Whatever the reason, he didn’t intend to linger. As much as he loved making out with a naked woman, he had a more pressing mission at hand. After thoroughly tasting her lips one last time, he rose up, grabbed hold her thighs, and hitched her legs over her shoulder.

“This is just the soldier in me,” he said, “but permission to enter.”

“Permission granted!” Angela said.

It was official. Veterans really did turn her on. Not one to deny a beautiful woman the soldier dick she loved, Matt aligned his member with her wet entrance and thrust into her. As soon as he felt that hot, tight flesh around his manhood, it was ecstasy in its rawest form.

“Ohhh yeah!” the hardened soldier moaned, “that feels…so good.”

“That’s it, soldier. Enjoy that hot pussy!” Angela purred.

Treating that as an order from his old drill sergeant, Matt proceed to vent years of pent up desire and frustration. He tightened his hold on her thighs, dug his feet and knees into the bed, and moved his hips in a steady procession of rhythmic thrusting. Through every motion, his rigid cock slithered in her tight folds. Hard masculine muscles meshed with smooth womanly curves. As their naked bodies rocked, more intimate ecstasy followed.

It was like diving into a pool after running a marathon through a desert.

It was like reconnecting with a feeling that had been blocked off by impenetrable barriers.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel so detached from the world. He was connecting with it again, literally and figuratively. His gaze never diverted from the woman under him, watching as she moaned and beamed with delight as he humped her. She already had the look of a soldier who’d just fulfilled a mission. For her, giving a distressed veteran sex was uniquely fulfilling. Something about that just felt right.

“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Angela moaned. “Like that! Fuck me like that!”

“You mean…like…this?” he grunted, thrusting extra hard while pushing her legs further apart.

“Yes! Fuck me like a true veteran! Make me come!”

She already sounded close to orgasm. Matthew stepped up the sexual rhythm, rocking her body and the bed even harder. She ended up being closer than he’d thought. She climaxed on the spot, curling her toes and throwing her head back as her inner muscles throbbed in accord with her release.

It was a beautiful sight, an all-American girl having an orgasm at the hands of him, an American veteran. Everything he fought and sacrificed for took a tangible form. It was also pretty audible as well. Angela was quite vocal in an orgasmic state.

“OHHH YES!”

Matthew grinned at the spectacle before him, slowing his motions for a moment to take it all in. However, he didn’t linger for long. He remembered he wanted a release as well. While Angela bathed in her euphoric state, he dug his feet and knees into the bed even harder as he pushed towards his own release.

“Angela…I’m close too!” he grunted. “I’m going to…come!”

“Go on, soldier,” she purred. “Fill me with that veteran cum.”

Not needing an order for once, Matt delivered the last round of humps to send him over the edge. When the feeling hit, it wasn’t just an overdue sexual release. It was like an old burden crumbling to dust around him, replaced with unhindered ecstasy and bliss.

Battle hardened muscles tensed.

Skin that had been dirtied by battle burned hot with desire.

Body parts that had not been used much lately went into overdrive.

Under the refreshing wave of his release, the hardened soldier let out a moan of contentment as he achieved orgasm. Throbbing flesh met with throbbing flesh as his manly juices mixed with hers. Pleasure, relief, and intimate connection became real and tangible. That lonely, distant feeling that plagued him early suddenly didn’t seem so pressing.

“You’re a damn good soldier,” said Angela, still beaming with post-orgasmic delight, “a damn good soldier, indeed.”

As Matthrew soaked in the feeling, she caressed his unshaven face and kissed him. Like a reflex, he kissed back. In the process, he withdrew his manhood from her and laid down next to her. He kept her naked body in his arms, the intimate contact still providing relief beyond that of a sexual release. She clung to him as well, pawing his chest as if to wipe away his distress.

As he laid with such a beautiful woman, Matt found himself recall the names of the people he’d lost and the world he’d lost since joining. The pain was still there, but there was now something else to counter it. Instead of agonizing over the past he’d missed, he looked towards a more promising future.

“I needed this…so bad,” Matt said, still breathless.

“I can tell.”

“I don’t think you understand the full story, Angela,” he said in a more serious tone. “Before you showed up, I was on the brink. I…wasn’t sure of my place in this world anymore. I’m a soldier. I served my country. I came home. And now…”

His words trailed off, still unable to fully process everything he’d agonized over since he returned home. Angela curled up closer to him, cupping his face with both hands and gazing into his eyes with the compassion of an angel.

“You feel lost,” she told him. “You’re a soldier. You worked, trained, and fought so hard that it’s part of who you are. Not being a soldier at this point…and everything else that comes with it…that’s a lot to deal with.”

“Sounds like you’re intimately familiar with men like me,” he pointed out.

“If you’re wondering whether I’ve had sex with other vets, then stop wondering. Every girl at Veteran Vixens has plenty of experience with veteran-brand pillow talk.”

“Sorry if mine sounds routine,” he said, “especially since I’m one of the lucky ones. I came back. Some of my squad mates didn’t.”

“That’s a big part of what makes being a veteran so overwhelming. You survived. You fought your battles and made it through. A part of you is still fighting, though. Sometimes, you need something to let you know it’s okay to stop…that it’s okay to reconnect.”

It made so much sense. Then again, a lot of crazy things made sense after having sex with a beautiful woman. Could it really that simple? Could the key to confronting the emptiness and uncertainty that had plagued him since he returned home be a simple matter of reconnecting? In that sense, random sex with a beautiful woman counted as a productive first step.

“Reconnect…yeah, I think I can do that,” Matt said with greater confidence. “Thanks for the memorable reminder, Angela.”

“That’s what we at Veteran Vixens do,” she said proudly. “It’s hard enough adapting to civilian life again. Nothing seems nearly as hard after getting laid.”

“Which is why it’s my new favorite veterans charity!”

“Good to hear,” she laughed.

Angela kissed him again, still keeping her naked body close to his. Matt eagerly returned the kiss. Embracing her felt like embracing the world again. It gave him renewed confidence and strength, which he planned to use for the parade later that afternoon.

He still had some time to prepare. Luckily for him, the kiss between him and Angela quickly turned into another make-out session. At some point, she rolled over on top of him while he rolled onto his back. The next thing Matt knew, he was looking up at a naked woman straddling his waist with a lustful, yet affectionate glint in her eyes.

“In keeping with the spirit of Veteran Vixens, I can stick around a bit longer if you want,” she said curtly.

“I’d like that,” Matt said while smiling back.

“I can also suck your dick, get you hard again, and then ride it hard until we come again.”

“I’d like that even more.”

“Great!” she said, already sounding excited. “Because when it comes to honoring our troops on Veterans Day, we at Veteran Vixens like to go the extra mile!”

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“My Demon Lover” A Sexy Short Story (For Halloween)

demon-woman-angel-love-romance-pic-mch057676

Greetings, and Happy Halloween! Whether you’re a kid looking for free candy or someone just looking for an excuse to wear a sexy costume, this is your kind of holiday. To help get everyone in the spirit, I wrote a sexy short story. Enjoy!

The most revealing truths were often hidden blow foundations of lore and lies. That was an old saying from the world of demons, witches, and dark magic. From curious dabblers to full-fledged masters, the greatest truths about the dark forces that permeated every shadow came only to those willing to dig deep.

Victoria “Violet” Goodchild embodied that will better than most. For every hundred people who dared to explore the mystic arts, only could hope to uncover that such forces weren’t just real. They could be channeled, summoned, and experienced in a very direct way.

“By the dust of Tartarus…the mists of Elysium…the shadows of Sheol…I summon from the realm of Eurynomos the name that frail maidens dare not speak.”

Those desperate words, echoing with a lust and desire few embraced, echoed throughout the dank basement of Violet’s unassuming home. She’d turned off all the lights. She’d locked the front, back, and emergency door from the inside. Anyone looking from the outside would’ve suspected that she just wasn’t home. For someone like her, a troubled young woman who’d run away from home, it was to be expected.

She’d once been such a sweet, unassuming girl. She was the third of seven children by a preacher and a Sunday School teacher. She’d been surrounded by all the trappings of a strict, religious household. She was the last person anyone expected to delve into the sinister world of the dark arts.

However, Victoria – or Violet, which she’d been going by since high school – didn’t just dip her toe into that world. She dove in head-first.

“Forces of the worlds unseen…the powers untapped…I summon the one to whom I gave my virginity. I summon the one to whom I’ve pledged my blood, my body, and my soul!”

The air throughout the basement became hot and muggy, a sudden shift from the cold and dank ambience it usually offered. The only light came from a series of 13 candles, which had been arranged in a circle atop a red rug that she’d stained with special emblems. Those small flames quickly intensified, as if the air itself had heard her calls and granted more fuel to the fire.

Violet could already sense someone approaching. She couldn’t see, hear, or touch them, but she knew they were there. She’d felt it before. It both her heart and heated her inner thighs. Having already shed her clothes, her naked body covered only by a black robe, she’d no intention of being modest to the approaching presence.

As the air grew hotter, the emblems on the rug began glowing. Such spectacle defied the traditional laws of physics, but they were perfectly in line with the rule of dark magic. Like lights that had been plugged into a great source of power, they filled the room with reddish orange hue. Some of the symbols within the emblems even came to life, the various runes depicting mystical artifacts becoming flushed with power.

From a collection of those runes, a fiery vortex formed in the floor. It was like a hole in the fabric of reality, a crack in the barrier that separated her mundane world from that of magic.

“Yes! Come to me, my demon lover! Come to me, Sylenos!” Violet exclaimed, raising her arms and bathing in the swirling light.

For a moment, the entire basement felt like the worst part of a thunderstorm. A potent blend of wind and heat filled the room, blowing through her loose-fitting robe and brushing over her naked skin. It was as though the mystical forces she sought were caressing her body, teasing her with a bit of mystical foreplay. It further heightened her arousal and lust, ensuring she was prepared for the figure that emerged.

“My dear Violet,” said a deep, demonic voice, “I hear your lecherous cries. I so missed them!”

From the swirling vortex, a being decidedly not of her world emerged. He had a very masculine appearance, over six-and-a-half feet tall with muscular sinews bulging from every inch of flesh. That flesh, however, did not have an entirely human appearance.

It was dark red, radiating a heat that seemed to make every candle burn brighter. There were also no goat legs or animal features. Those were artifacts of ancient fairy tales. Real demons could take many forms, but their most common was that of a human male, complete with functioning male body parts. That included a very large endowment that hung between his legs, one that quickly reacted to her appearance.

“Sylenos,” Violet said, gazing at the demonic figure in awe, “welcome to my domain.”

“Still so formal, I see,” the demonic figure laughed. “After all our encounters, you insist on going through the motions.”

“What can I say? I’m a traditionalist,” she replied with a lurid undertone.

“Did I say I minded?”

Sylenos grinned in a way so befitting of a demon. It was often their most distinguishing trait, the way they captured the gaze of those who saw them. Even with the muscles of a body-builder and the endowment greater than that of any male ego, the face of a demon was their most terrifying and alluring feature.

Violet had seen it many times before. Sylenos’ complexion was extra demonic, bearing fang-like teeth, an extra-rugged complexion, and horns on his forehead that complemented long, unkempt hair. However, it was his eyes that reflected the dark power within, having a deep purple hue that often glowed whenever she gazed into them. That penetrating gaze played a big part what inspired her nickname, Violet. It ended up inspiring much more, as well.

“I always look forward to this day,” Sylenos said as he approached her, “October 31st, the night of All Hallows Eve.”

“So do I,” she said. “It’s the one night were dark forces are celebrated, rather than feared.”

“For someone like, isn’t that redundant?”

“Only to the extent that it gives us an excuse to be together for the night,” Violet quipped.

“That, and a rare alignment of mystical energies.”

“Logistics disguised as semantics,” she shrugged. “Please, my love, allow me to keep being formal.”

The creature laughed again, but did not stop her when she dropped to one knee and bowed her head in a submissive gesture, as was customary for a demonic summoning. She then looked up, both his demonic gaze and his oversized penis looming over her. It was a simple ritual that felt so mundane, but one that reminded her of how far she’d ventured down her dark path.

When she’d first laid eyes on Sylenos, she was a virgin teenager who’d grown frustrated by a world of tradition and piety. She’d felt so trapped. Everyone and everything was so virtuous, idealizing restraint and purity. It was comfortable, but boring. It was, ironically enough, her own personal hell. Escaping it meant walking the opposite path of her peers.

“Sylenos,” she said, her voice full of lust and reference, “creature of the dark realms, born of lust and desire made flesh.”

“I never get tired of hearing that,” he said, “although many of my demon brethren mock me for that.”

Violet grinned, but her demeanor did not falter. She remained determined to affirm her connection to the creature before her, if only to remind herself why it mattered so much.

“You are the one I chose,” Violet said, a touch of affection mixing in with her lust. “I offered myself to one who could sate that which I found insatiable. By the chaotic winds of fate, you chose me to. From that choice, we found each other.”

It almost sounded romantic. To some extent, it was. One of the least known truths about demons had little to do with what they looked like and everything to do with what they embodied. It was for that very reason that Violet’s basic lust evolved into a mature love.

The catalyst for that journey had been crude. At a young age, she discovered something about herself that would’ve been a minor quirk had she not grown up in such a devout community. She was very horny. Whether by fate or a quirk of biology, she was a very sexual woman with very powerful desires.

That put her in directly conflict with everyone in her community, including her parents. It only got worse when they caught her masturbating multiple times and flirting with boys. They tried lecturing her, praying for her, and sending her off to an all-girls school. None of it worked. She ran away the first chance she got.

If anything, the efforts of her family convinced her that a path of virtue and piety was not going to satisfy her desires. That was when she made the fateful choice to explore the opposite side of the holy spectrum. On that journey, she founded more than she’d ever expected. She liked to think she wasn’t the only one, either.

“Are you done, my love?” said a bemused Sylenos.

“That’s the last of the formality. I promise,” she told him.

“Good,” he said. “Then rise up. Don’t stand before me like some mindless adherent. Stand as the unapologetic slut you know you are.”

Laughing to herself at such blunt honesty, she rose back to her feet. Sylenos, still grinning, then grasped the sides of her robe.

“Take this dirty rag off,” he said. “Show me the body we so lovingly forged together.”

Violet gladly complied, letting the robe fall off to expose her nude form to the hulking creature in front of her. He then threw it across the room, as if to tell her that she didn’t have to be modest in the presence of a demon. Given her voluptuous figure, she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Sylenos further demonstrated his admiration, grasping her hips with his powerful demonic hands and trailing them up to her breasts. Already aroused by anticipation, it sent hot shivers coursing through her body.

“Such beauty,” Sylenos said with lecherous affection as he squeezed her fleshy orbs, “you have a face, breasts, and buttocks that would befell an angel.”

“I’m sure that’s the most popular pick-up line in the demon realm,” Violet said, purring under his touch.

“Except, I’m a demon who means it,” he told her. “We’re not always honest, but we are always sincere when it comes to our desires…especially those we help make real.”

The hulking figure drew her deeper into a daze of lust. As he kneaded her breasts with his hands, he leaned in closer and smothered her lips with his. His bulging muscles made contact with her naked flesh, turning lustful desires into burning needs.

Violet then let loose her own demonic passions, returning the kiss of her demon lover while trailing her hands over the rock-hard sinews of his hyper-masculine form. The feeling was not like kissing an ordinary man. Demon flesh was hotter. Demon flesh radiated a unique energy and strength. Some women couldn’t handle it. Violet had learned to handle it better than most.

“My demon lover,” she gasped as he hungrily groped her flesh.

“My mortal whore,” Sylenos said, his eyes glowing brighter as their devious foreplay intensified.

He left no inch of her flesh untouched and no bit of her tongue untasted. Demons were creatures of indulgence, savoring every decadent delight to the utmost. Thanks to the price she had willingly paid years ago, Violet gave him plenty to savor.

When she first encountered Sylenos as a virgin teenager, she wasn’t very attractive. That wasn’t just due to poor self-image, either. She had average looks, at best. Her breasts were undersized, butt was flat, and her face wasn’t exactly worthy of a magazine cover. For someone as horny as her, it was a frustrating situation, to say the least. That changed a simple deal born of selfish desire.

“Big breasts…firm buttocks…luscious lips,” Sylenos seethed as he made out with her, “all mine for the taking!”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. In fact, part of the reason Violet resorted to summoning demons is to make herself more attractive. Since running away, she’d encountered many attractive men that she wanted to sleep with. However, they didn’t find her beautiful. Makeup and exercise only did so much. To get the allure she craved, she needed the touch of a demon.

That was what Sylenos gave her. Before she gave him her virginity, he cast a spell that radically changed her body into a figure that perfectly radiated beauty and sex appeal. It was the first time she’d felt genuinely sexy. After she gave herself to him, she reverted back briefly. However, he told her she could grow into that body, provided she adhered to their deal.

The details were many, but the results were everything she’d hoped for and then some. In just a few years, she became beautiful, attracting men of all kinds and seducing them with ease. Almost overnight, she could have any man she wanted and she wanted a lot. The acts of decadence she indulged in, thanks to her newfound looks, were too many to list.

However, she never strayed from the deal and Sylenos rewarded her accordingly. She liked to think she returned the favor beyond the price she’d paid. Over time, she came to see Halloween as the night where they enjoyed the bonuses that came along with that deal.

“Sylenos…take me,” Violet told him, his hungry touching sending her lust into overdrive.

“Only if you beg,” he replied with a devious leer. “You how much I love to hear your beg.”

“Take me, my love!” she exclaimed without hesitation. “Fuck me! Ravage me! Fill my every hole with your demon cum!”

“Such a dirty mouth…spoken like a true slut.”

“Not just any slut…your slut!”

That always set him off, her talking dirty while in his physical presence. At that moment, the seduction and foreplay ceased. Violet was officially pass the point of no return. She was going to get fucked by a demon.

Using his demonic strength, he lifted her up off the floor and laid her down in the center of the rug. The candles were still burning and the runes were still glowing. Her naked body now surrounded by light, Sylenos hovered over her in a way that gave her a perfect view of his throbbing demon cock.

Unlike ordinary dicks, a demon’s cock needed no stimulation to get hard. It became fully erect with the same ease as flexing a muscle. At full arousal, Sylenos’ cock had a length and girth that put most male porn stars to shame. It always tested the resilience of her womanly flesh, but Violet loved rising to the occasion.

“I’ll give you what you desire, Violet,” he told her.

“And I’ll give you the same,” she replied.

“Mmm…your confidence always astounds me!”

“It’s not confidence, my love. It’s certainly!”

Violet eagerly spread her legs, welcoming his dark flesh into her. Now seething with a lust worthy of a demon, the hulking figure accepted her invitation. He got on top of her, grasping her wrists and pinning them just above her head. Then, with his eyes glowing with the same radiance as the runes beneath them, he thrust his throbbing demon cock into her pussy.

“That dick…that big, demon dick…so deep inside me!” Violet exclaimed.

Sylenos replied only with a lecherous snarl before silencing her with his lips, his slithering tongue swirling around hers as he began fucking her with a fervor that rocked her world and that of demons.

His approach was simple, utilizing the basic missionary position that her pious upbringing glorified for husbands and wives. Sylenos took that standard sexual more and gave it a demonic twist, humping her with reckless abandon, pursuing only raw pleasure rather than holy duty. She was not a faithful housewife, submitting to her husband in hopes of producing more adherents. She was an unrepentant whore, seeking only to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.

“Violet…my sweet, sinful Violet,” Sylenos said in between thrusts. “You make lust…so lovely.”

Violet almost climaxed on the spot. Those intense words in that deep voice of his revealed so much of who she was. It was raw, unfiltered truth, not unlike the raw, unfiltered bliss that came with unrestrained sex.

Instead of restraint, she reveled in indulgence.

Instead of soul, she embraced flesh.

Instead of piety, she pursued hedonism.

That was the cold, hard truth. Violet had accepted that years ago. Whereas her family and friends shamed her, the world of demons encouraged her. Instead of revulsion, Sylenos was drawn to her sinful tendencies. With him, she could be herself. That brought out a pleasure that went beyond the multiple orgasms.

“Oohhh Sylenos!” she moaned. “My demon love…I’m coming! I’m coming!”

“Yes! Come…unrepentant whore!”

As if on command, Violet closed her eyes, curled her toes, and arched her back as a white-hot orgasm coursed through her body. Sylenos barely slowed down his relentless humping, still working his cock inside her tight folds. Every muscle in her lower body burned pleasure, washing over her like a wave crashing down on top of her.

It felt so good. All her life, she’d been led to believe that anything that felt that good had to be sinful. There was no way around that. By having sex with a demon, though, she spat in the face of all those laurels. It was her way of telling the mortal world that something so wrong could still feel right.

“Good whore,” Sylenos grunted. “Now…I come too!”

Her body was still trembling, the inner muscles of her pussy still throbbing. There was no time to catch her breath, though. Her demon lover was going to climax too and that also carried a demonic twist.

“By the fires of Hades…yes!” he exclaimed.

Upon crossing that threshold, the hulking figure let out a roar that would’ve scared off an army of hungry grizzly bears. His eyes flashed bright red, his expression tensed with devious joy, and his bulging muscles throbbed as he released his demonic load into her pussy.

Demonic semen was not like that of an ordinary man. For one, there was a lot more of it, so much so that much of it spilled out of her depths. It was also extra potent, but not in the sense of traditional fertility. Old witchcraft texts once said that a demon’s cum was the literal manifestation of sexual pleasure. When released inside a woman’s body, it was like diving into an ocean of liquid ecstasy. It took an act that was already sinful in the eyes of many and turned it into something truly intoxicating.

Between that pleasure and the hot, demonic fluid now filling her pussy, Violet was utterly drunk on the unique euphoria that was demonic sex. However, even as Sylenos’ face tensed with similar bliss, she saw in his eyes that he was far from satisfied. That made two of them.

“More…take me more,” she said breathlessly.

“You dare challenge a demon in the realm of lust?” Sylenos teased.

“Yes! I dare.”

Her tone left no room for ambiguity. As if to allay further concerns, she freed her arms from the demon’s grip – no easy task, especially after an orgasm – and pulled the hulking figure into a kiss.

His horns didn’t bother her. His teeth, complexion, and rock-hard flesh didn’t bother her, either. By kissing him willingly, tangling her tongue with his, she sent a clear message. Sylenos hadn’t just seduced her. She chose him as much as he chose her. She hadn’t descended into a life of decadence and sex. She wanted it and Halloween was a chance to celebrate those desires.

“So daring,” Sylenos said, sounding genuinely surprised. “You never cease to amaze me, Violet.”

“Thank me by fucking me more,” she replied. “Fuck me…like the demon I love.”

“You love a demon…and everything that comes with it?”

“Let me prove it!”

Violet kissed him again, digging her nails into his crimson flesh, hooking her legs around his waist as his rigid cock remained deep inside her. Unlike men, demons didn’t have a refractory period. Their dicks stayed hard for as long as they wanted. It allowed them to indulge as the creatures of darkness they were. It also allowed them to deliver when they consorted with mortals.

Sylenos delivered as well as anyone, using the newfound leverage to instigate another around of hard fucking. He shifted his grip to her butt, squeezing it firmly as he bounced her up and down his cock. The candles burned brighter and the runes in the floor flickered erratically, like a Halloween spectacle that gave light to their decadence. It seemed like a fitting celebration, one that reflected both the feeling she craved and the price she’d paid for it.

“What I want…what I sought…I paid to get it,” she gasped as her body and world rocked once more, “I gladly accept it!”

The hulking creature responded with her proud proclamations with devilish delight. Unrestrained by mortal limits, Sylenos proceeded to ravage her in the light and spirit of Halloween. He held her up in her arms, bouncing her along his cock until she climaxed again. Shortly after that, he climaxed too, filling her pussy with more demon cum.

After that, he gave her lower body some needed rest and laid her on the floor again so that she was on her hands and knees. Then, he grabbed the sides of her face and shoved his cock into her mouth, face-fucking her with his oversized flesh. It tested and strained her jaw-muscles, but she could take it. The ecstasy was worth the strain. Something about that made her love for a demon so fitting.

He still didn’t go easy on her. He kept humping her face until he climaxed again, shooting a thick load of cum right down her gullet. It was so hot, but sweet. It was like actually tasting an orgasm, filling her insides with hot pleasure that rendered her even more dazed. A lesser woman wouldn’t have been able to handle it. She was more than that and she loved proving that, especially on Halloween.

“A sinner in this world,” her demon lover said with a devious glint, “but an angel in mine.”

Violet just smiled back, even as his cum dripped from her mouth. She barely had time to lick it up before he turned her around, keeping her on all fours, and guided his still-throbbing cock to her ass.

“One more hole to complete our celebration,” he whispered seductively into her ear.

“I’m ready,” she said without hesitation.

The young woman still braced herself as Sylenos thrust his cock into her. A sharp sting followed as he pierced her flesh, straining her lower body once more. The discomfort didn’t bother her for a second. The pleasure that followed did plenty to wash over the pain, keeping her in a steady state of bliss.

More orgasms followed. Each time she climaxed, the runes in the carpet flashed brighter. The pleasure that coursed through her burned hotter. With each feeling, she recounted the price that she’d paid all those years ago.

When Sylenos first described it, he made it sound steep. By giving her beauty, sex, and pleasure, he also gave her an inescapable caveat. She could live her life as an attractive, sexual woman. She could attract all the willing lovers she wanted. However, she would only ever attract men who would not love her for who she was. They would only ever love her for what she did for them.

On top of that, her insatiable sexual appetite ensured no one man could satisfy her. Even multiple men at once couldn’t satisfied her. She knew because she’d tried. It had been fun, but it still didn’t suffice. The idea that she would live the rest of her life, unsatisfied and unbearably horny, seemed like a curse. However, one woman’s curse was a demon’s blessing.

“This is it. This is what I want…what I need,” Violet found herself saying in her lecherous daze. “I can only ever fuck men. I can only love…a demon.”

The myths of old often claimed demons were incapable of giving love or sharing it. Those stories were incomplete, at best. The truth that no nun or holy man ever dared admit was that demons and creatures of darkness could love. It just wasn’t love as they understood it.

For them, love was a happy couple with a white picket fence, multiple kids, and a puppy. It wasn’t two horny beings fucking endlessly in the night. To them, that was debauchery. To a demon, though, that was love in its purest form. As beings born of desire, the line between sensual and intimacy did not exist. Sylenos understood that as well as any demon. Violet simply embraced it.

“On this night…our love shines brightest!” the demon said, just before releasing another load into her ass.

“Our love…our lust…ohhh yes!” Violet cried out, having another orgasm as well.

She and Sylenos continued to indulge, fucking hard under the light of the ritual until the candles burned out. She didn’t know how many orgasms she experience or how many loads her demon lover blew. She just knew that she was having a better Halloween than any woman could ever hope for.

Eventually, even demon lovers reached their limits. Once the candles grew short, the runes in the rug stopped glowing. Only the swirling vortex to the demon realm remained. Knowing he had to return, Violet kissed him one more time before their flesh finally parted. Sweat and fluids still covered her body, but Violet didn’t care. It got the job done. More than anything else, she and her lover had celebrated Halloween as only they could.

“Sylenos…my beautiful demon,” she said as she gazed into his glowing eyes as she lay on the floor, covered in sweat and cum, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Violet,” Sylenos replied as he floated towards the vortex. “I promise you won’t have to wait until another Halloween to know our love.”

“Most women don’t accept promises from a demon.

“You’re right…except you’re not most women.”

Violet smiled at her demonic lover and he smiled back. In that moment, the line between lust and love blurred. The same line that separated mortal from demon blurred as well. Two realms with forces that opposed one another became connected. It was not the kind of love or affection that was glorified by tradition every day, but on Halloween night, she and her demon lover could turn the tables.

“Happy Halloween, my love,” Violet said to him.

“For demons and whores alike,” Sylenos said, “it is very happy Halloween indeed!”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Dark Mistress” A Sexy Short Story (For Halloween)

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote for Halloween that combines magic, witchcraft, and sex appeal. I believe it makes for an appropriate and festive piece. Hope this makes everyone’s Halloween a little sexier. Enjoy!

“I need you tonight, my dark mistress,” said an anxious, but determined Ron Shermfeld. “Please, don’t make me wait longer than I have to.”

The tone and intensity of that voice was completely foreign to anyone who knew Ron. By day, he carried himself as the kind of man who everyone graveled to, especially women. In high school and college, he was a star athlete with the body of an Olympian. As a young adult, he became a successful businessman with a reputation for toughness and intimidation. He never had to beg for anything from anyone. It was always the other way around.

On some nights, though, that all changed. On Halloween, such radical change took on a far greater meaning.

“Everyone wanted me at their party, tonight,” Ron said to the locked door. “Old college buddies invited me to a frat house. They said there would be at least two dozen beautiful women there…every one of which would get naked for me on the spot if they know I won two national titles for the school eight years ago.”

He must have sounded crazy, turning down a party like that. It didn’t sound crazy to him. It just made him knock on the door even harder.

“I also turned down a party at my office,” he said. “They wanted to put on this big, elaborate spectacle…one that involved me dressing up like a king and carrying me out on a makeshift throne. My senior VP of accounting – a guy who hasn’t been to a party since grade school – said they were going to bow like servants. He even said I deserved nothing less after leading my company to record profits this past quarter.”

That sounded even crazier. Ron had even seen the throne that the marketing people at his company put together. Telling them it wouldn’t be necessary must have broken their hearts, but they didn’t argue with him. Nobody argued with him. That was part of the problem.

“They all said I could have anyone and anything I wanted,” Ron said. “One guy said I could fuck his wife and daughter if I wanted and he would thank me for it. I don’t know if that’s because he loves me that much or if he’s just that scared of me. I never know for sure. That’s why I need someone I don’t doubt. That’s why I need you!”

Ron leaned on the door, his usual strength failing him. It felt so strange, feeling so weak and timid. Those used to be such alien feelings for him. His older sisters once joked that he came out of the womb bigger and stronger than anyone. Blessed with a muscular stature, a strong work ethic, and uncanny charisma, he had a knack for influencing and dominating everyone around him.

He’d been so popular in school that women used to fight each other over who got to sleep with him first. He’d been so skilled as an athlete that his own coaches became intimidated by him. He thought starting a business after college would be a challenge. It turned out to be way too easy. Wherever he exerted himself, people bent over backwards for him. They never stood up to him or contested him. Success came so easy to Ron that it barely felt like he was trying.

His world became so mundane. Everything seemed so predictable. There was nothing greater to strive for, no force he couldn’t overcome or person he couldn’t dominate. Then, she entered his life and revealed a world completely different from the one he dominated.

“Dark mistress,” he said, now begging like a child, “can you hear me?”

“I can hear you fine, my loyal minion,” replied a voice from the other side of the door. “I’ve been listening for the past fifteen minutes. The sound of your submissive tone just gets me so wet.”

A wave of relief came over Ron, but only briefly. His dark mistress was nearby. She was so close he could smell that lilac-scented perfume she always wore. However, on Halloween night, just smelling her was hardly enough. A powerful witch demanded more from him.

“Ella Bloodleaf,” Ron said under his breath. “I can feel your power on me. I’m here for you.”

He put both hands on the door that separated him from the woman whose touch he craved. It felt more like a mountain than a simple entrance to a penthouse apartment atop an affluent complex in the heart of the city. It was only a fifteen minute drive from his office, but it might as well have been an ocean. That was how powerful Ella’s hold on him was and it went beyond her skills in witchcraft.

His dark mistress wasn’t a witch in the tradition of fairy tales and ghost stories. She wasn’t even a witch in the mold of the New Age, pseudo-spiritual crowd. Ella Bloodleaf was the kind of which who occupied a vast, but hidden world of magic, spirit, and power. It wasn’t some fantasy or gimmick. It was real. Magic existed in his world and witches were its most skilled wielders.

Only a select few knew of such secrets. Even fewer accepted how real it was. Ron was one of the select few and Ella was his anchor to that world.

“It’s Halloween,” she said through the closed door. “Do you know what that means?”

“I do, dark mistress,” Ron replied.

“The stars are aligned. The mood of countless souls is heightened. The primordial forces that penetrate our world are at their most intense. Are you strong enough to handle them?”

“I am,” he said without hesitation. “For you, I’m as strong as I need to be.”

For a brief moment, his strength mixed with his desperation. That must have been the intent his mistress had been looking for because she finally unlocked the door. When it opened, he finally saw her. His beautiful dark mistress stood before her in all her macabre glory.

She was no old hag from an outdated fairy tale. Ella had the body of a goddess and the poise that could intimidate the devil. She never hesitated to show off her otherworldly beauty, either. Her skin was pale, but perfectly smooth, as if polished by nature. She wore ruby-red lipstick, which perfectly complemented her emerald green eyes. Ron swore her gaze could render even the most powerful men paralyzed in awe. It reflected both her beauty and the magic within.

She’d even dispensed with her usual garb, wearing only a thin lingerie that was almost entirely transplant. Ron could clearly see her ample breasts and luscious curves. He could even see the revealing thong she wore underneath, which already appeared soaked with arousal.

“My beautiful dark mistress,” he said as he entered the approached her.

“Remain where you are!” Ella said sternly. “You’re in my domain, dear minion. That means I’m in command.”

“Of course, dark mistress,” Ron said with perfect obedience.

Like a reflex, he stood frozen just a few feet from the front door to her penthouse. There was no secluded cottage or dark cave. Real witches lived in opulent, but private surroundings. A penthouse atop an expensive urban condominium definitely qualified. It was like entering a palace dedicated to Ella’s power and he was just a lowly peasant.

For a moment, he just stood there, still as a statue while his mistress leaned against her kitchen counter, not at all hiding her revealing attire and her aroused state. Then, in a show of her power, she waved her hand and the door slammed shut. It was a simple act for a witch, but one that sent a powerful message.

She could make the impossible happen. She could bend the rules of reality to her whim. More specifically, she could bend him to her whims. She was just that powerful, but her power went beyond the realm of magic.

“There’s an old saying among practicing witches,” she said to him as she trailed her hand up her shapely thighs. “The greatest source of magic is through sheer force of will, but the intensity of that magic depends on others believing it exists. To re-shape the world, you must first believe you can. Even then, only a handful believe strongly enough.”

“I believe in you, dark mistress,” Ron told her.

“I know you do. That means my dominion is dependent on reaffirming that belief. On Halloween, when so many dare to belief, I can do so much more than just wield great magic.”

She spoke with the kind of a seductive certainty that had initially attracted him to her. There allure to such certainty. It went beyond mere confidence. Ron dealt with confident people all the time, but Ella took it a million steps further.

“For centuries, witches covens had to balance wielding magic with fostering belief in it,” Ella went on. “Magic is at the heart of our power, but magic requires belief. It’s not enough to just show someone it’s possible to turn an onion into a precious gem. By seeing it, they no longer need to believe. Only a select few can bear witness to magic and continue believing in it.”

“And I’m one of them,” Ron said.

“That you are, my handsome minion. That you are,” she said with even more seduction.

She cast him a smile equally befitting of an angel and a demon. She then approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders and letting that body of hers press up against his. Even through his Armani suit, he felt the unique energy radiating from her body. Only a skilled and powerful witch could exude such energy. That aura affected him more than most.

He remained paralyzed in her presence, completely and willingly subdued by her power. He could barely breathe as she gazed at him with that devious, yet affectionate glance. Her beauty, sexiness, and touch could captivate any man with a shred of desire, but his dark mistress enchanted him in a very special way.

“That’s exactly why Halloween is such an important night for us,” his dark mistress went on. “On this night, people dare to believe in the power of the macabre. Every practicing witch makes it a point to channel that belief into something greater…something that allows them stronger dominion over the forces that hide in the shadows.”

“That’s why I came to you,” Ron said. “I am under your dominion. Your strength is my fulfillment.”

“Spoken like a man who has come to appreciate the benefits of a witch’s domineering touch,” she said curtly.

“It’s not just appreciation, dark mistress. Every day of my life, others cater to my every whim. I am without bound or limits. I want…I need limits to keep myself anchored.”

“That’s not all you needed, my minion. Tonight, in the spirit of Halloween, I intend to remind you why submission in a witch’s domain unleashes our freest passions!”

There was that certainty again. It left him breathless, his legs trembling in her presence. He might have been a former athlete who stood nearly a foot taller than Ella Bloodleaf, but within her embrace, she might as well have been a titan.

His paralyzed state reflected his submission.

His submission also reflected his belief.

From that belief, Ella’s power intensified. Her eyes began glowing, the magic that many failed to believe manifesting before him. That power made the air around them feel hotter, as though the flames of the underworld were raging outside. It effectively locked Ron into her domain. She could demand anything from him and, as her loyal minion, he must obey her.

“I can feel it already,” his dark mistress seethed as her grip on him intensified, “the spirit of Halloween…the belief in magic, spirits, and darkness.”

“I feel it too, dark mistress,” Ron said. “Your power…it still amazes me.”

“Then, it’s time I put it to use!”

With a devious glint in her eye, Ella casually tapped the collar of his neatly-tailored dress shirt. In another act of magic, coupled with his dominion over him, his clothes removed themselves from his body.

It was like being caught in a storm with no shelter. First, his tie undid itself and flew off. His blazer jacket quickly followed. Then, his shirt unbuttoned itself and an invisible hand pulled it off. As the spectacle unfolded, a still grinning Ella lightly tapped his belt buckle with her finger. Like his shirt, it too came to life like a scene out of a fairy tale. However, there story that unfolded was not fit for children.

The same invisible forces that took off his shirt made quick work of his pants, underwear, and overpriced dress shoes, rendering him completely naked. He soon stood before his dark mistress, the muscular physique that often intimidated others completely vulnerable to her power. Ron wasn’t used to such vulnerability, but that was exactly why he found it so exciting.

“So much strength and power,” she said with devious admiration. “No wonder others find you so intimidating. I bet women look at you and cower like dogs…dogs that go into heat quite readily.”

“They do…too readily, at times,” Ron said.

“That’s because they’re not witches. They may acknowledge their baser instincts, but they rarely embrace them…let alone augment them with magic.”

There was no subtlety to her tone. Her devious smile widened as she approached him again, her eyes lecherously drifting up and down his masculine features. She let her scantily-clad form press up against his naked flesh, her touch sending shivers of intimate energy coursing through his body. It was more than enough to send his blood flowing in all the right directions.

Despite his arousal and his temptation to touch her flesh, Ron remained dead still. That gave his dark mistress free reign. With it, she hungrily pawed chest, trailing her fingers over his manly sinews. Between his submission and her dominating power, she became very aroused.

“It’s one thing to simply act on the whims of natural forces,” Ella said, her polished nails trailing over his arms. “It’s quite another to augment them…to take a simple act and enhance it through will. That requires one willing to dominate and one just as willing to submit.”

“I am willing, dark mistress,” he said without reservation. “I hope I’ve made that clear in the brief time we’ve been together.”

“You’ve done plenty, my loyal minion,” she said, “but never on Halloween. Tonight, you will know the true breadth of a witch’s power!”

Her voice shook the walls. Her touch became firmer. Ron swore she could knock him out with her pinkie finger. His dark mistress just exuded that much strength. In another life, his first instinct was to match it. Instead, he felt inclined to submit to it.

Her eyes still glowing with the magic of a skilled witch, she grabbed him by the wrist and led him into the master bedroom of the opulent penthouse. Ella didn’t have the size or muscle mass he did, but her grip had the strength of a charging bull. Her will, her power, and her dark allure made her a force that demanded subordination.

Even the star athlete in him struggled to keep up as she used her magic to open the doors to the bedroom. In doing so, his dark mistress revealed a setup that put every other Halloween celebration to same.

“Wow,” Ron gasped.

“Keep moving!” his dark mistress demanded.

Ron barely had time to admire the ambience. All the windows had been blacked out. All the lights had been covered. The only source of illumination were several dozen candles, each arranged in a series of patterns throughout the room. They didn’t look like the kind sold at a craft store. They gave of a light that seemed to illuminate the hidden power within. It was like shining a light on the magical world his dark mistress had revealed to him.

In addition to the candles, the king-sized bed that usually stood in the room had been replaced with a large altar covered in a red blanket. Upon that blanket, he saw a series of elaborate symbols etched in the fabric. He’d recognized those symbols from his previous unions with Ella, but he’d never seen them glow with such intensity.

“Lie down,” she demanded.

Ron did as she asked without hesitation. He climbed onto the altar and laid flat on his back, his naked body illuminated under the steady glow of the surrounding candles. Before he could even get comfortable, she waved her hand and several restraints floated up from a nearby table.

“Hold still,” his dark mistress told him.

Again, he wordlessly complied. He remained perfectly still as the restraints, guided by magic, fastened themselves around his wrists and ankles. Then, after another wave of her hand, they attached themselves to the altar, leaving him completely restrained and even more at her mercy.

That feeling, being completely under the whim of his dark mistress, gave Ron a rush that he so rarely felt. Being so weak and vulnerable, not able to impose his will on anyone or anything, was so alien. He’d just give himself over to someone in a way that rendered all his natural strengths and talents moot. It was scary, but also liberating in a strange way.

“You are now bound by a witch’s will,” Ella told him. “You submit to me, freely and willingly. You believe in my power. Tell me you believe!”

“I believe, dark mistress. I truly, honestly believe,” Ron said, conveying total submission through his voice.

For a moment, she just stood still at the side of the altar. Her eyes stopped glowing and she looked down on him with folded arms, as if to judge him the way any goddess would when faced with a mortal soul. He laid before her, unflinching in his submission to her, conveying the extent of his belief with his eyes.

Finally, she leered over him so that her alluring, yet devious face was the only thing he saw.

“You speak the truth, both with your words and your actions,” she told him. “A strong man so willing and eager to submit to a greater power…that is a rare, but beautiful feat. The fates tend reward such submission and witches have always been their greatest patrons…especially on nights like this.”

She briefly leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were so close that he could taste their sinister sweetness in the air. At the last second, though, she pulled back. It was tortuous, but Ron voiced no dismay. He just watched as his dark mistress made her way to the foot of the altar.

“I can already feel the energy from the night. It’s so intense. I intend to tap it, but doing so means maximizing my domination over one who freely submits.”

From where she stood, Ella closed her eyes and began chanting a string of incantations. She was casting a spell. Ron had seen her do it before. It often made for quite a spectacle. However, he had a feeling that what he was about to see would top them all.

The flames on the candles flared up, as though they’d been doused with gasoline. The whole room briefly became as hot as a sauna. At the same time, the area under the altar began glowing, the energy from an unseen realm seeping through the fabric of reality. It was like touching the impossible. Whereas most would be inclined to run, Ron had already submitted to it. He felt it flowing around and through him. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

“I submit…freely,” he said amidst the display.

Ella continued chanting. Within intense glow, she levitated into the air, casting off the shackles of gravity as though they were nothing. As she ascended, the thin cloak that she’d been wearing fell off, leaving her only in her revealing black thong. Her perfect breasts, polished skin, and alluring aura was illuminated by the mystical feat. Her goddess-like beauty now had the power to go along with it.

“My dark mistress,” Ron said with divine admiration.

She stopped chanting, but remained in mid-air. Her eyes glowed bright red and she narrowed her gaze on him, her body now surrounded in a fiery halo. She had such intensity radiating from her flesh, more so than he had ever seen before. Either the spirit of Halloween was just that potent or she was even hornier than he thought. It was probably a combination of both.

“By the spirits and gods…the veil of darkness is lifted!” Ella proclaimed. “In the name of All Hallows Eve, I seize this power for myself and my willing minion!”

The light under the altar steadied.

The flames from the candles settled into a steady glow.

The energy halo surrounding his dark mistress swirled a bit longer, but eventually converged within her like metal to a magnet. After absorbing the energy, she had the poise of someone who could slay an army of angels and demons. However, rather than wage war, she directed her focus onto him.

Her eyes stopped glowing, but the look of raw exhilaration never waned. She then lowered onto the altar, as if carried by the air around her. As soon as she landed, an unseen force ripped her thong off, torn to shreds as if it had been caught in a tornado. Now standing above him in all her naked glory, Ella epitomized the ultimate power and beauty of a witch. He was so lucky to call her his mistress.

“Such power. Such grace,” Ron said with the utmost awe.

“Silence, minion!” she said, her voice booming like thunder. “It’s time to complete the ritual!”

Knowing what that entailed, Ron could only brace himself for the onslaught to come. Bound and entranced, his fate now lay in the hands of his dominating dark mistress.

She wasted no time in wielding it. Making use of the magic she’d just tapped, she knelt down onto the altar and took his semi-erect dick in both hands. Then, in gesture so seductive that a lesser man would’ve fainted, she tapped the tip of his member with her tongue. Immediately, he felt the effect.

“Ohhhh, dark mistress!” Ron gasped.

In defiance of basic male biology, his penis grew and stiffened into a state that put even the most endowed men to shame. It was like someone had hooked a super-charger to his sex drive. His member was so hard that he felt like he could cut stone with it.

That was the power of a witch’s magic.

That was the reward of willing submission to his dark mistress.

“My minion…you are now imbued with the ability to embrace the ecstasy of darkness,” she told him, licking her lips while still stroking his cock. “Prepare to push your mind, body, and soul to its limits. Pursuing such ecstasy can be…overwhelming.”

“For you, dark mistress…I will endure,” Ron said to her.

“You’d better. It is not wise to leave a witch unsatisfied…especially on Halloween.”

She gave him little time to gather himself. Empowered and aroused to the utmost, his dark mistress had a lust in her eyes that defied measure. He was now the target of a witch’s most fervent desires. Ron honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend Halloween.

Like a predator pouncing on a mountain of prey, Ella got on top of him and straddled his waist, aligning his throbbing-hard dick with her dripping-wet pussy. She then grabbed onto his torso, her grip feeling like the claws of a demon, as if to reaffirm the extent of her hold on him. From there, through a single downward thrust of her hips, she drove his flesh up into her.

“Yes!” Ella exclaimed. “I feel it…power through flesh…magic through feeling!”

“Dark Mistress,” Ron gasped, “I feel it too.”

“Quiet, minion!” she spat. “You will say nothing while I indulge in the darkness!”

Ron fell silent again. His only speech from that point forward was through grunts and moans of bliss. Through the power wielded by his dark mistress, there promised to be plenty, so long as he continued submitting.

From his bound state, he watched his beautiful mistress ravage him as only a powerful witch could. She rode his cock hard, bouncing and gyrating her hips with such fervor, working her wet folds along the length of his rigid manhood. Every motion brought hot ecstasy, but every sensations felt supplemented by the same unseen power that had filled the room.

It was magic at its most potent, channeled through flesh and desire. Ella just gave it form and substance, guiding the energies and the dazzling displays they conjured every step of the way. As she rode him, the light under the altar pulsated like beacon, illuminating her naked body in every exquisite detail. Other swirling lights danced around her like miniature fireworks, further adding to the spectacle.

It turned ideas of beauty, sex, and pleasure into something real, making tangible concepts out of intangible ideas. It was something Ron could not dominate. Only through submission to his mistress could he experience such wonder. Even as he lay bound, bare, and at the mercy of a powerful witch riding his cock, he’d never felt so free.

“Oh yes! Ohhh yes!” his dark mistress exclaimed. “Praise the darkness! Praise the spirits! Praise the union of magic and flesh!”

Her echoed throughout the room, silencing any and all distractions that might have undermined the ritual. It ensured that every bit of Ron’s attention remained focused on his dark mistress and the ecstasy she’d conjured. She wasn’t just the center of his world. She was his world.

He continued grunting and moaning as his mistresses fucked him at a ravenous pace, riding his cock so hard that it tested his ability to process such feelings. His body ached for a release, literally and figuratively, but he understood how such rituals work. To submit to his dark mistress also meant trusting her to grant him that release accordingly. A witch’s dominion over their minions was that extensive.

However, a good mistress and a good minion knew how to control orgasmic feats fairly and with the utmost skill. Having tasted the fruits of Ella Bloodleaf’s skill before, Ron had complete trust in his dark mistress. He’d just never tasted them on Halloween before.

“My minion…I’m close,” his dark mistress said amidst her relentless riding. “Your mistress…is about to come. Tell me…you want me to come!”

“I want you…to come,” Ron said, his words strained by so many overwhelming feelings.

“Louder! Say it louder!” she demanded.

“I want you to come!” he yelled out.

“Say it again!”

“I want you to come, dark mistress!”

“Again!

“I WANT YOU TO COME!”

At that point, every muscle in his body was near its limits. His dick burned with hot pleasure, throbbing desperately for an overdue climax. However, it could not happen until his dark mistress came first.

She did not make it easy for him. In the swirling light of the magical spectacle, he could tell in her devious expression that she was drawing it out, remaining emerged in her utter domination over him and the pleasure it brought. He could also tell she wanted to taste the fruits of that pleasure too. Eventually, her dominating desires caught up with his submissive needs.

“OHHH YES! I’M COMING!” Ella Bloodleaf exclaimed.

In a moment that caused every candle in the room to flare up again, his dark mistress raked her nails down his torso and threw her head back in an orgasmic frenzy. Her inner muscles throbbed, her skin became hot, and expression matched that of every angel in heaven while every demon in Hell watched with envy. While the magic provided the catalyst, his dark mistress provided the guidance.

It marked the culmination of a ritual born from his submission and her dominion. The walls and altar shuddered in wake of her cries, like thunder shattering the air. Another halo of light surrounded her naked body, erupting like a volcano finally bursting its top. It was a beautiful sight that was only compounded by his own badly-needed release.

“My dark mistress,” was all he could get out as the feeling hit.

While Ella’s orgasm made for such a dazzling display, his was every bit as spectacular. His expression tensed and every muscle in his lower body burned, but he never once diverted his gaze from his dark mistress. He moaned as his member tensed inside the throbbing depths of his dark mistress, his manly fluids mixing with her feminine juices. It was its own magical conjuring, turning a powerful feeling into something real.

Sex, desire, passion, magic, darkness, submission, and domination all came together. Everything beautiful and devious manifested in that one moment. On Halloween night, it felt so appropriate.

“Mmm…praise the spirits,” Ella said, her body still writhing in orgasmic bliss.

“And praise, my dark mistress,” Ron said.

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

“Forgive me.”

“I’ll grant you mercy…for a price.”

That price proved more than fair. Even as the halo of energy swirled around her, she leaned over and gave him a deep kiss. Finally, Ron got to taste the flesh of his beautiful, merciful mistress of darkness. On a night when decadence, darkness, and sweet tastes were everywhere, it couldn’t have been more satisfying.

The kiss ended. The orgasmic onslaught settled. His dark mistress remained hovering over him, her domineering yet affectionate grin never waning. She perfectly embodied the spirit of a witch. She wielded great power to pursue greater experiences. Ron believed in that power and in her. By submitting to it, he got to experience it too.

“Happy Halloween, my loyal minion,” Ella said to him.

“Happy Halloween, my dark mistress,” he replied.

“You’ve satisfied a powerful witch. That’s quite a feat…one I intend to reward for the rest of the night!”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Roughly Forbidden” A Sexy Short Story

rough-sex

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about sexual taboos and the kind that may emerge in the future. Given how much I write about gender politics, this is something I contemplate more than most. It can be depressing, but it can also inspire sexy stories. This is just one of them. Enjoy!

“I like it rough.”

There was once a time when a woman could say those words with a straight face and nobody would think much of it. They might see her as kinky tastes, but she wouldn’t be ridiculed for it. However, those days were long gone and Jessica Jermaine was too young to remember them.

At 28-years-old, she lived in a very different world. Everyone was so careful. Every intimate act, sexual or otherwise, was carried out with a level of vigilance that felt so comical in principle, but no one dared laugh. One wrong move became a single act of recklessness. A single act brought accusations. Accusations brought condemnation. Not all of it was of the legal variety, but it was sufficient to keep everyone on their toes.

“I shouldn’t have to do this,” Jessica said to herself as she sat anxiously at the foot of her hotel bed, “but that’s the world we live in. I don’t like it, but it’s too late to change it.”

She sighed to herself as she waited intently, the digital clock on the hotel dresser moving painfully slow. She wasn’t supposed to feel so tense. Jessica was on an overdue vacation, one her co-workers at the law firm she worked at urged her to take. She didn’t deny that she’d been extra uptight lately, but even her closest friends didn’t realize why she felt that way.

Looking away from the clock briefly, she glanced towards the mirror next to the kitchen sink. On the surface, Jessica had no reason to be miserable. She was a beautiful young woman, blessed with the same fit, feminine frame that her mother and two older sisters had. One of her college roommates once told her she had the looks that opened more options than most. She could set higher standards than most in pursuing love, sex, and everything in between.

Jessica had done plenty of that. As soon as she began filling out bras in high school, she basically had her pick of love interests. She could just walk up to a guy, start talking about random topics, and within a half-hour, she had him wrapped around her finger with little effort. She got to lose her virginity to one of the stars on her school’s basketball team. She even got to sleep up with his best friend and teammate afterwards when she got bored of him. That destroyed their friendship, but they were the ones who got the scorn instead of her.

“You thought you could get everything you want because of your looks,” Jessica said to her reflection. “You didn’t think you’d ever have to pay the price. I can’t believe how wrong you were.”

She scolded her reflection while recalling how her reckless behavior played out. She continued that decadent streak into college, going through men the same way some people went through pairs of shoes. Over time, though, Jessica came to regret how many hearts she broke and how easy she got away with her behavior. Whenever she did something wrong or selfish in her relationship, she rarely got blamed for it. Only the men she dated got blamed.

If she cheated on them, it was their fault because they didn’t satisfy her.

If she lied to them, it was their fault because they made it so she had to lie.

If she broke up with them for bad reasons, it was their fault because they were lucky to be with someone like her in the first place.

There was literally nothing they could do to villainize her. At the end of the day, Jessica Jermaine was still a beautiful young woman who had every possible option. Moreover, she needed those options because her looks made her a target. Being the object of every straight man’s lurid desires, she needed extra leeway. It was the only way she could be safe.

That was the over-arching assumption. Nobody said it out loud, but that was how society managed beautiful women who could rouse a man’s passions just by looking at him. It wasn’t fair. Even Jessica couldn’t deny that. Things had a way of balancing themselves out, though. Given all the benefit she’d enjoyed since puberty, though, it almost felt like a punishment.

“Fuck, I’m so horny,” Jessica groaned as she looked back towards the clock. “Why does being wrong have to be this frustrating?”

She shifted her legs uncomfortably, trying to ignore the blaring signals her body kept giving her. It was one of the worst parts of her punishment, but the most fitting in the grand scheme of things. She liked rough sex. She liked it so much that it was one of the only ways she could regularly climax. Unfortunately for her, getting rough sex meant jumping through some frustrating hoops that didn’t used to be there.

As Jessica lamented those barriers, she heard a knock at the door. Almost immediately, she shot up from the bed and rushed over to answer. Her legs were already weak, her every fiber aching with desire. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

“Are you Devin?” Jessica asked through the door.

“Yes,” a deep, masculine voice replied.

“Okay, I’m opening the door now.”

Jessica took a deep breath, ready to endure the most awkward part of the elaborate ordeal she’d set up. She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside and covering her eyes in the process. The man she knew only as Devin entered, closing the door behind her and locking it quickly. She could hear him being extra-thorough, using both the lock and the latch to secure the door.

“Please make sure you’re looking away,” he told her. “For my safety, please put your hands over your eyes.”

“Don’t worry. I know the drill,” she replied.

That was being generous. Jessica knew the procedure a bit too well. The hardest part was already behind them, having organized a meeting through a secure chatroom and a screening service. The second hardest part was maintaining anonymity. That helped ensure her safety, but it was mostly for Devin and men like him.

As she stood in the foyer, closing her eyes and looking away, she already knew what Devin was doing. He took off his coat, hat, and sunglasses, which most men in his line of work had to wear while on business. He might have been wearing a wig, as well, for all she knew. It was all for a reason, though.

Jessica couldn’t afford to see his face and neither could he. That was the only way to ensure they both had the necessary leverage. The fact it took such an elaborate procedure said a lot about their respective circumstances.

“You can open your eyes, now. I’m ready, Jessica,” Devin said.

The young woman opened her eyes and turned around. Much to her relief, she saw only as much of the man that she needed to see.

Standing before her in her mid-level hotel was a masked man in blue jeans and a red T-shirt. He had a tall, imposing stature as well, standing over six feet tall and bearing the kind of broad shoulders that reminded her of the athletes she’d dated in high school. He might have even been a former athlete, but she didn’t dare pry into his story. The less she knew about him the better. That was just part of why he wore a mask that covered everything except his eyes, nose, and mouth.

“Thank you for meeting me tonight,” she told him. “I really need this.”

“Yeah, you made that abundantly clear in the chat room,” Devin replied. “You claimed that no women has ever needed an ‘extensive massage’ as much as you.”

“And I stand by that claim. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

“I guess we will.”

He almost sounded skeptical, but Jessica looked back at him with serious eyes. She made it clear to him that she’d meant what she said when she answered his ad. She also knew the unique jargon of his chosen industry. An ‘extensive massage’ was only half-accurate, at best. What it truly entailed often brought out too many mixed feelings, especially among other women like her.

“Everything is set,” Jessica said. “Your donation is on the table.”

“Mind if I check it, first?” Devin asked, sounding as serious as her.

“Go ahead,” she told him. “I’ll wait on the bed.”

“No. Wait right there,” he said. “If you really meant what you said, then it’ll work best if we do things my way.”

He spoke with such a stern, authoritative tone, the kind that most men were too afraid or too careful to use anymore. It was so forceful and direct. Jessica’s inner thighs moistened on the spot, her pants feeling unbearable at that point. Still, she remained patient.

She watched with anxious anticipation as the masked man walked over to the kitchen table and checked the unmarked envelope she’d laid out. Inside, it contained money and a slip of paper containing a QR code. That code was for anonymous digital currency that made up the bulk of her donation for his services. He took out his phone to check it. Once certain that it was good, he smiled to himself and turned back towards her.

“Everything looks good,” Devin told her. “I’m ready to begin.”

“So am I,” Jessica said, not hiding her desperation.

“We’ll see about that.”

Then, like a hardened prisoner breaking free of his, the imposing man stormed over to her, grabbed her by the neck, and forced her up against the wall next to the bed. Suddenly, she went from having all the leverage in the world to having none whatsoever. At that moment, she was at the mercy of a powerful, masked man.

“From here on out,” he told her, his tone deep and menacing, “I’m going to fuck you. I won’t be gentle. I won’t be careful, either. I’m going to be as reckless and rough with you as I damn well please!”

“Yes! I…want that,” Jessica gasped.

“Shut up!” Devin barked.

He slammed his fist on the wall next to her head, evoking as much fear as it did arousal. Even with his hand around her neck, she felt the arousal between her legs intensified. At last, the feeling she so desperately sought was in her grasp. A man, unafraid and unconcerned by her beauty, was going to ravage her.

Devin made those intentions clear as he crashed his lips onto hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth and pinning her against the wall with his body weight. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe with him pressed against her and his hand around her neck. As Devin aggressively kissed her, he hungrily groped various parts of her body, giving extra attention to her breasts and even slipping his hand into her pants. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t seek her consent. He just did it, an act so taboo that people stopped joking about it years ago.

It was no laughing matter for Jessica, though. The way Devin kissed and touched her – hard, aggressive, and full of the toxic masculine lust she’d been taught to fear – set the tone for the devious act she was about to experience. There was no getting around it. She was about to do something that would’ve left every woman her age aghast.

Devin seemed to know that too. After kissing so hard that she struggled to breathe, he abruptly released her lips from his and leered over her with domineering intent.

“For once, this isn’t about what a pretty girl with nice tits wants,” he told her. “It’s about what I want!”

Jessica, too scared and aroused to form words, just nodded feebly under his grasp. She wasn’t used to being so trapped within a man’s grasp. She didn’t know many women who had ever been in such a position.

“You’re going to get on the bed, strip naked, and take my cock like a horny bitch in heat,” he went on. “Do you understand?”

That kind of vulgarity shocked her. In fact, Jessica was certain that saying those words in that tone to a woman would’ve gotten Devin arrested on the spot. It was jarring, but it also reminded her why she had to go to such lengths to get the experience she want.

“I…understand,” Jessica said weakly.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up!” Devin demanded.

“I said…I understand,” she told him.

“Louder!” he commanded. “Say it like you really need it…more than anything you’ve craved.”

He squeezed her neck a little harder and pressed her up against the wall, so much so that he lifted her off the floor. It left her even more vulnerable, but it also made her even more aroused, as if Devin had somehow tapped into a well of forbidden desire.

“I understand!” Jessica shouted. “Please…do it to me.”

She wasn’t sure if that had been weak enough. She barely knew what a weak, vulnerable woman sounded like anymore. It sounded so foreign to her, but it seemed to do the trick. Devin finally loosened his hold on her.

“Good,” he said sternly. “Now, let’s get down to business!”

The imposing man backed away from the wall and shoved her over to the bed, not showing the least bit of concern for her. Already short of breath and shuddering with adrenaline, Jessica practically tripped over the mattress, falling right on top of the clean sheets she’d done so little to ruffle since she arrived.

She could still feel Devin’s shadow over her, his lecherous leer never once diverting from her. It filled her with a mix of dread and excitement, so much so that she didn’t know where one feeling ended and the other began. Jessica didn’t care there. For once, she wasn’t going to make sure a man followed the proper protocol in getting her into bed.

“What are you waiting for? Get naked!” Devin ordered.

“I…I’m doing it. I promise,” Jessica said, unable to hide her arousal.

That came off as so awkward, being aroused and frightened at the same time. It didn’t kill the mood, though. It also didn’t stop her from doing what he said.

With trembling hands, Jessica stripped out of her shirt, pants, and shoes. Devin did the same, practically tearing off his shirt before taking off his pants as though they were on fire. The only thing that stayed on was his mask, keeping his face obscure. She couldn’t know the face of the man who was about to ravage her. Nobody could.

She had only gotten down to her bra and panties by the time Devin kicked off his pants, though. That gave her a clear view of his semi-erect penis. It was even bigger than he’d described in his ad. The idea of a man – especially one tasked with being rough and reckless with a beautiful woman – shoving that into a woman on his own terms seemed outrageous. It felt like one of those old concepts that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, like slavery or gender-based discrimination.

It was still going to happen, though. He was really going to thrust that dick into her and she actually wanted it. That thought caused her to hesitate before taking her underwear off.

“Why are you stopping? Take it all off!” Devin shouted.

Not waiting for her to comply, he stormed over to the bed and ripped off her bra on the spot. Jessica gasped upon hearing the fabric tear, her breasts tumbling out on the whims of someone other than her.

Before she could get over that shock, Devin did the same with her panties. He tore them off with ease, exposing her intimate areas to someone who hadn’t requested to see it, let alone fuck it. Instinctively, she hugged her shoulders to cover her breasts, but the imposing man didn’t let her.

“Hey! No cheating,” he said. “Here…let’s get a good look at your tits and pussy.”

Once again using his strength to full effect, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up off the floor. He then got onto the king-sized bed and laid her down in the center, making it so she was as exposed and prone as possible. When she tried to cover her breasts again, he didn’t let her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them up next to her head.

“Yeah…that’s a rare sight,” Devin said, his eyes hungrily raking over her, “a beautiful, naked woman just lying there for the taking…my taking.”

He gazed upon her as though she were the rarest of spectacles. That might not have been far from the truth. The idea of any woman submitting to a man’s most toxic lusts must have been as jarring for him as it was for her. It must have been arousing too because just gazing at her naked body rendered his dick very erect.

“Look at you,” he said as he hovered over her, trailing his hand over her breasts. “This really is making you horny, isn’t it?”

He gave her breasts a hard squeeze, causing her to gasp. However, it wasn’t one of discomfort or dread. It had the distinct tone of a horny woman…one who hadn’t been satisfied in a long time.

As if to further convince her, he slipped one hand down between her legs, showing little reservation as he rubbed the outer folds of her pussy and inserted a finger into her vagina. That intensely forbidden feeling – to insert something into a woman’s genitals without warning or consent – raised the stakes of the act that awaited her. What they were about to do was very wrong in the eyes of the world around her, but it didn’t matter. She still wanted it so bad.

“I can feel it!” Devin said, sounding almost surprised. “Your pussy is so wet and hot. This isn’t just random thrill-seeking, is it? You really like it, don’t you? You like rough sex.”

“Yes!” she said without hesitation. “I…I love rough sex.”

It must have seemed pathetic, a beautiful woman like her admitting something so deviant. He was genuinely astonished. Jessica could tell. It put her efforts to hire a male gigolo – an act not entirely illegal, but still very taboo, especially for someone like her.

“I don’t envy you,” he told her. “Having a kink like that…no wonder you had to find a guy like me to get it.”

“I know. I’m a freak!” she admitted. “I’m a beautiful woman and I like to be fucked hard. Mock me for it later. For now, just…give it to me. Please…don’t make me beg.”

That sounded even worse, but it got the point across. She was desperate, having to resort to extremes to get the sex she wanted. As a beautiful woman, she was used to getting everything she desired with minimal effort. The fact she had to go to such elaborate lengths for such a devious experience spoke volumes about her and the world she lived in.

“You’ll get what you want,” Devin said firmly, “and so will I!”

With a mix of urgency of lust, the imposing man ceased his groping and got on top of her. He forcibly pushed her legs apart, not being gentle or caring in the slightest, and aligned his rigid manhood with her pussy. Jessica kept her hands at the side of her head, demonstrating a submission that few women dared, and braced herself for Devin’s unbridled lust.

Through a simple thrust of his hips – again, with no warning, consent, or affection – he entered her. Sharp sensations of hard penetration surged through her body. It came at her like a bolt of lightning, igniting nerves and evoking feelings that were so rarely stimulated. Jessica gasped at the feeling, but was quickly silenced by an onslaught of the hardest, roughest sex she’d had in a long time.

“Yeah! That’s it, you horny bitch!” Devin said with a domineering grunt. “Take it! Take it hard…just the way you like it!”

Such vulgar words in such a crude tone offended her on some levels, but intensified the feeling on many others. Devin ravaged her like an animal freed of his chains, working his body against hers, humping her hard with every fervent motion. Jessica’s world rocked in accord with his movements, her breasts bouncing and her body contorting to the feeling of a big, hard penis pumping into her depths without a shred of reservation.

He wasn’t careful in the slightest. There was no pause in between so he could get her permission to do something. Devin did not follow the script of her many other lovers. She was not the arbiter of their sex. She didn’t initiate the act or set the tone. Her status as a beautiful young woman who always had leverage meant nothing anymore. The entire sexual dynamic that she had been taught was thrown away. Instead, she was just a sexual outlet for a horny, aggressive man.

“This is it,” she said as her world shook. “This…is what I wanted. To be fucked…ravaged. I…I love it!”

Just admitting that out loud felt like she was betraying everything she’d been taught about normal sex. Unfortunately, normal sex just didn’t do it for Jessica. She needed something deviously abnormal else to achieve the satisfaction she sought.

Devin did his part to deliver. He maintained that hard, rigorous pace of sex. His hands still gripping her thighs, he forced her legs harder apart so he could get in deeper with every thrust, stimulating the innermost recesses of her womanhood. That alone triggered a unique flood of sensations, the likes of which sent her to the brink of orgasm.

It usually didn’t happen that quickly. For Jessica – and for most girls she knew – getting that sweet sexual release took considerable effort. She really had to work at it, making heavy demands on the man as well, guiding them through various sex acts and expecting them to prioritize their pleasure before they could get theirs. A man’s orgasm was akin to just rolling down a hill where a woman’s was an ascent up a mountain.

That was not how it played out with Devin. Jessica’s love of rough sex just triggered something within her – something she didn’t know existed until she dared to defy convention, as she understood them. Deviant or not, the orgasmic bliss was still plenty potent.

“Ohhh! Coming…I’m coming!” Jessica exclaimed as the feeling approached.

“Already? Damn!” grunted Devin.

Then, in an act that heightened the defiance, Devin released his grip on her left thigh and grabbed her by the throat. With the same aggressive intent he’d shown earlier, he choked her as she crossed the threshold. It was an act of naked domination, a powerful man imposing himself on a vulnerable woman. Rather than offend her, though, it brought her intense pleasure.

“Ack!” was all she got out before the orgasm hit.

It struck her like a tidal wave, the hot release of raw pleasure. Jessica squeezed the sheets with her hands, curled her toes, and arched her back as every muscle below her waist was set ablaze with orgasmic sensations.

It was so intense that Devin actually had to slow the pace of their vigorous sex. Even through his mask, he looked genuinely impressed.

“Wow. You are so…I don’t even know the word!” he said. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but…I like it!”

Jessica barely heard him over feelings of orgasmic bliss, but she got the message and understood the sentiment. The idea of a woman enjoying such deviant sex – let alone a man who admitted to wanting it – was just so problematic. She could agonize over it later, though. There were still plenty more rough sex to enjoy.

“Guess that means I’ll just have to fuck you harder!” Devin said with a devious grin.

Still dazed by pleasure, Jessica just nodded while under the imposing man’s grip. The first orgasm usually just set the tone. From that point forward, it was just a matter of venting the pent up desire.

Devin took full advantage of that. Not waiting for her to recover from her orgasm, he resumed the heated rhythm he’d established earlier. He even got bolder, using both hands to choke her while he humped her fervently. Jessica did nothing to fight it, choking and moaning helplessly as her world kept rocking. Having completely surrendered to a man’s lustful whims, she braced herself for more sex.

He didn’t hold back, ravaging her in every way he could and not once asking whether he had her permission. He decided their positions. He chose how hard and how fast they fucked. Jessica was just along for the ride. He turned her over, laid her flat on her stomach, and took her from behind. He then pulled her up onto all fours, stood up on the bed, and pumped his cock into her while slapping her butt repeatedly. It stung, sending surges of pain and degradation. Jessica still loved it, though. In fact, she courage it.

“Harder!” she cried out. “Do it harder!”

He gladly obliged, slapping her so hard she could feel marks forming on her naked skin. She’d probably have to hide them for a while. If any of her friends saw them, they would freak out. It was worth it, though…so incredibly worth it.

In that position, Jessica had another orgasm. Again, it came with such ease, the reckless intensity of their sex providing abundant stimulation. Devin didn’t slow down, though. Even as she came, he kept fucking her in a selfish pursuit of his own pleasure.

He must have realized how rare it was, a man being allowed to ravage a beautiful woman like her. He really drew it out, as though he didn’t want it to end too quickly. Jessica couldn’t blame him. She had no idea how many other girls like her there were, beautiful young woman who enjoyed rough sex and getting dominated by a man. Based on everything she’d been taught about normal sex, it couldn’t have been many.

Devin made good use of the opportunity and the time for which she’d paid him. He fucked her long and hard, going at it from several more positions that did plenty to ruffle the sheets on the bed. She climaxed several more times as well. Each time she did, he choked or spanked her a little harder. It helped her catch up on all the satisfying sex she hadn’t had, despite all the eager lovers she’d entertained. It also helped him eventually get to his own special peak.

“I’m getting…so close,” he grunted. “Can’t hold it…much longer!”

There was real strain in his voice. Jessica could tell he didn’t want it to end, but his stamina – physical and sexual – was near its limits. She had already had more than her share of orgasms. Devin still craved his release. For that final moment, though, he managed one last act of decadence.

“On your back!” Devin ordered. “I’m going to…come on your…face.”

“Mmm…I’m ready,” Jessica told him.

It shouldn’t have been so appealing. A man climaxing on a woman’s face was supposed to be a relic of a bygone era where men oppressed women regularly. She was supposed to be repulsed. Instead, she licked her lips as though she were about to eat her favorite treat.

Now on her back once more, she laid in the center of the bed as Devin delivered the last round of rough sex. He pumped his cock into her extra hard, the hard smacking sound of his pelvis smacking into hers echoing throughout the room. She could see through his mask the strain of the approaching pleasure, as though it were a dam ready to burst.

Finally, after the necessary number of thrusts, she sensed Devin cross the threshold. With more urgency than she had ever seen in a man, he withdrew his cock from her pussy, positioned himself on top of her, and aimed it at her face. Then, after he gave it a few more strokes, he ejaculated with a force that defied Jessica’s knowledge of male biology.

“Ohhh fuck!” he exclaimed.

Like pent up volcano, thick streams of seminal fluid erupted from the imposing man’s dick. It splattered onto her face in messy globs, dripping down her nose, face, and neck. Some even ended up on her breasts. He must have really held back to release that much cum. It must have been really satisfying too because she had never heard a man sound that content from an orgasm.

“So much cum,” she mused at it covered her face. “Men…they still amaze me, but not as much as women.”

An extended moment of awkwardness followed. Devin remained over her, still rubbing his cock until every last drop of fluid was extracted. He continued gasping for air, his manly flesh glistening with sweat after so much exertion. Jessica had worked up a sweat with men before, but not like that. It was quite a sight.

As they caught their breath, the imposing man rolled off to her side and laid next to her for a brief moment. She barely moved, not even attempting to wipe the streaks of manly juices off her face and breasts. Every muscle below her waist was still burning from rough sex and multiple orgasms. She was also fairly certain she had a mark the shape of his hand on her butt. Had Jessica not been so drained and content, she would’ve laughed.

She briefly glanced over towards Devin, who looked every bit as satisfied. She was usually pretty talkative after sex, but had little to say. She was still tempted to reach over and embrace him, offering her sincere gratitude for giving her the rough sex she so sorely needed. However, she never got the chance.

“We’re done,” Devin said flatly.

In the blink of an eye, the imposing man that had fucked her so hard reverted back to the overly-careful demeanor that she’d seen in so many others. He couldn’t get off the bed fast enough. He didn’t even make eye-contact with her as he got dressed, making sure to keep his mask on every step of the way.

Jessica wanted to feel insulted after what they just did, but she couldn’t blame him for being so distant. She knew what they had just done. She knew what happened to men like him if anyone even accused him of doing it.

“Thank you,” she told him, offering what gratitude she could.

“No need for thanks,” he replied, still not looking away as he put on his shoes.

“I still mean it.”

“So do I,” Devin replied. “You said it yourself. You know the drill. This is the only way people like us can do this sort of thing.”

“People like us?” she questioned.

“You don’t need to play dumb. You wouldn’t have known how to reach me if you were,” he said as he retrieved his money and made his way to the door. “You and me…we’re at the mercy of what we’re supposed to want instead of what we actually want. We live in a world where a man can’t fuck a woman the way I just fucked you and a woman can’t admit she likes it. That’s why it has to be this way…hidden, secret, and deviant.”

With those ominous words, he exited the room, leaving her naked on the bed. He almost seemed scared. That was pretty remarkable, given his stature and the intensity with which he’d just fucked her. It didn’t make sense that a woman like her had to solicit the services of a man like him to get the satisfaction she craved, but there was no way around it. That was just the way it was.

“I still like it rough,” Jessica said to herself. “If that makes me a deviant in the eyes of everyone else in this crazy world…so be it.”

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“After The Cure” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote while some close family members of mine dealt with major medical issues. It helped remind me just how invaluable doctors can be in keeping us healthy and easing the suffering of others. That talent gives them a unique sex appeal, which I attempt to celebrate in this story. Enjoy!

“Another day, another bunch of lives saved…and lost,” said a restless Dr. Albert Galen.

It was a common refrain for the end of Dr. Galen’s day. It started bright and early in the oncology wing at the Walen Carter Hospital, which he’d worked at for nearly ten years. Throughout the course of his day, he met with patients who’d just gotten the worst news anyone could get about their health. They had cancer.

Regardless of how treatable it was, the news always hit hard and he had to be the one to break it down. Across from his desk, which was often cluttered with files and paperwork, there was a chair where most of his patients sat. More often than not, they were already scared, devastated, and in tears. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to break down crying while he gave them important medical information. That happened at least three times over the past week.

Dr. Galen had to be numb to all that, hardening his soul to an extent that made him feel like a machine spouting medical jargon rather than a doctor. He got into medicine for the same reason most doctors did. He wanted to heal people. He remembered how eager and energetic he’d been when he saw his first patient. Now, he questioned whether he could ever feel that kind of energy again.

The last two days gave him plenty of reasons to doubt that. On his desk was a file of a 42-year-old woman who’d just died because of lung cancer that should’ve been treatable. Less than three hours ago, he had to watch the woman’s husband and children break down crying after she passed. His nurses tried to console them, but Dr. Galen knew there was only so much healing they could offer.

“Life isn’t fair and neither is medicine,” he said solemnly as he closed the woman’s file.

Those were the exact words of his predecessor, Dr. James, who’d retired several years early from oncology. Dr. Galen hadn’t noticed at the time, but there was a distant emptiness in his eyes. He later suspected that Dr. James retired early because he’d seen one too many heartbreaking scenes. He had treated and cured countless patients, but the ones he lost always stung the worst. Looking back on it, he probably should’ve seen that as a warning.

“There’s fair, there’s unfair, and then there’s this,” the middle-aged man said with a sigh. “Cancer…the ultimate injustice.”

Checking his watch, he saw that it was late. He should’ve gone home an hour ago, but Dr. James preferred to keep busy. It was his way of coping with especially unfair days. After watching cancer take the life of a woman who’d attended her youngest son’s first little league game three weeks ago, he needed to stay extra busy. That woman had been especially unlucky, even by medical standards. Cases like that took cancer’s unfairness to an extreme.

Dr. Galen knew that doctors couldn’t get too personally attached with patients. That was supposed to mitigate the impact whenever something went wrong, which happened fairly often with cancer. Even for the best doctors, though, it took a toll.

“The doctors that save the most lives usually have the most hardened souls,” Dr. Galen muttered, “the second greatest injustice.”

That was something his old teacher in medical school told him when he said he wanted to specialize in oncology. He didn’t get the subtext at the time, but with each dead patient, it felt like less a warning and more a prophecy…one that kept fulfilling itself.

Still not inclined to go home, Dr. Galen sat back in his desk and opened up the drawer where he kept a bottle of scotch. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have it in the oncology wing, but after seeing a seven-year-old boy cry over the body of his dead mother, he sensed the Dean of Medicine would give him a pass.

“Guess my soul isn’t hard enough yet,” he said, “but I’m almost there.”

In the bottle, Dr. Galen saw the reflection of a middle-aged man who looked at least eight-years older than he should have. He wasn’t even 50 and his hair was already graying. It undercut how hard he’d worked to take care of himself after his father died at such a young age. That work didn’t seem to matter, though. Even when he wasn’t the one with cancer, it still found a way to make him sick.

Groaning to himself, the middle-aged man opened the bottle and retrieved a glass from the other drawer. As he sifted through more messy folders, there was a knock at his door.

“Dr. Galen?” said a feminine voice. “Do you have a minute?”

Looking up from his desk, Dr. Galen was somewhat surprised to see an attractive young woman standing in his doorway. If the low cut mini-skirt, halter top, and cheap flip-flips were any indication, she wasn’t a nurse.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, setting aside the scotch bottle and putting on his professional demeanor again. “Can I help you, ma’am? Just so you know, I don’t usually take appointments this late at night.”

“That’s okay. I’m not a patient,” the woman said. “My name is Anna. My mother is Lydia Strom. You treated her for non-small-cell lung carcinoma last month.”

Dr. Galen needed a minute to recall that name, partly due to the late hour of the night and the myriad of patients he treated. It was somewhat striking that someone remembered such a specific type of cancer, which helped him recall a particular case. In that same case, though, he didn’t recall the patient’s daughter wearing such provocative attire to a hospital.

“Lydia Strom…I remember treating her,” Dr. Galen said. “She’s the woman who always had to have that old jade necklace of hers nearby, right?”

“Yep! That’s her,” Anna said with a smile.

“Is she okay?” he asked. “If I recall, we caught it early and she responded well to chemotherapy.”

“You did. As far as I know, she’s completely cured and as healthy as she’s ever been. She even started taking tennis lessons with my dad.”

“That’s a healthy activity. Is everything else okay? Did she see get that counseling I recommended?”

“Calm down, Doctor. I’m not here because something’s wrong,” the young woman told him. “I’m here because I wanted to thank you personally. When someone saves your mother from cancer, a thank-you and a gift card just doesn’t cut it.”

Dr. Galen was taken aback, but in a good way. It wasn’t that unusual for a patient or their family members to offer extra gratitude after their treatment. After the day he’d endured, though, he needed it.

“Oh, well…you’re very welcome, I suppose,” he said, still trying to maintain his professional demeanor. “I’m not the only one you should thank, though. My nurses, my staff, and even my assistants played a part.”

“I already thanked them,” Anna said. “They all told me the same thing. You’re the one who does the heavy lifting around here. You make all the hard calls. You shoulder the good news and the bad. Some even wonder how you do it.”

“It comes with the degree and the stethoscope, especially my chosen field.”

“You say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I know it is,” he admitted, “although, if I’m being honest, my staff thinks I handle things better than I actually do.”

“In their defense, you’re very convincing. You had to keep your cool while my father, my brother, and little sister lost it when you gave your diagnosis. We were all so scared. For a while, I actually had to think about my mother dying…contemplating life without her.”

Her words took on an emotional undertone. Dr. Galen had heard it many times before, but the way Anna said it made it seem meaningful. It was enough to make him temper his doctor-like demeanor that he always maintained while at the hospital.

Anna took a moment to regain her composure. She then entered his office, closing the door behind them. Walking up to his desk, her eyes glistening with tears of sincerity, she leaned over his desk. In doing so, Dr. Galen noticed that the halter top she wore was a bit undersized.

“I’ve never been good at confronting terrible things,” she went on. “During my mom’s treatment, I basically hid in the corner and kept my head down, not wanting to look at it or think about it. That’s probably why you don’t remember me.”

“That, and I don’t recall you wearing such noticeable attire,” Dr. Galen said, trying hard not to stare at the young woman’s cleavage.

“That’s because I only dress this way when I’ve got a damn good reason. Not long ago, that usually involved getting free drinks at the bar near my college dorm. Now, my priorities are different.”

There was a very seductive subtext to her words. Anna leaned over a bit more, as if to direct his gaze towards her breasts. Having eschewed professionalism, Dr. Galen let himself look. In doing so, he surmised that the young woman wasn’t wearing a bra. From there, the doctor in him diagnosed her intent.

“My world changed when I found out my mom had cancer,” Anna continued. “It changed again when you told her she was cured.”

“I’m just doing what doctors do,” he said, his eyes alternating between her breasts and face.

“It’s one thing to treat a sore throat. It’s another to treat cancer. That’s why when you save a life, it matters a little more. It also deserves special gratitude.”

She almost seemed determined, as though it was her duty to bring balance to a horribly unfair universe. Having just lamented about the gross injustices wrought by cancer, her demeanor heightened Dr. Galen’s interest almost as much as her cleavage.

With his eyes now locked on her, the attractive young woman crawled up onto his oversized desk, not at all minding the mess of files and paperwork. Upon reaching the center, she shifted into an upright position, narrowed her gaze on him, and stripped off the undersized halter top. She even made a spectacle of it, doing it slowly and sensually so that her well-shaped breasts came tumbling out in just the right way. Suddenly, her lack of a bra made sense.

“Wow,” the middle-aged man said distantly.

“Just the symptom I was hoping for,” Anna said playfully.

Four years of medical school, three years of residency, and over a decade of experience in a well-funded private hospital had not given him the vocabulary he needed for that moment. He’d seen plenty of naked bodies of varying states of health. The sight of female breasts shouldn’t have had such an impact, but the way Anna presented them defied medical expertise.

“For the man who saved my mother, though,” she said, “I’d like to go the extra mile!”

That came off as both ambitious and sexy. Still atop a pile of paperwork, the attractive young woman unzipped the back of her mini-skirt and took it off, revealing an overly revealing G-string thong. It looked like something a woman would wear to a strip club rather than a hospital. After tossing the skirt aside, kicking her flip-flops off in the process, Anna made her intentions abundantly clear.

“Please…let me thank you, Dr. Galen,” she said intently, “not with words, cards, or hugs. I want to give you something more…something fitting for a man who fights the hardest battles in medicine.”

“I’d say that’s not necessary,” Dr. Galen said, “but I doubt that would dissuade you.”

“Another accurate diagnosis,” Anna laughed. “Battles leave scars. My dad’s an ex-marine so I know the signs. Plus, after finding out from your nurses that you’re single and only married to your work…well, let’s just say I don’t mind being a mistress for one night.”

Like a sexy predator, she crawled across the desk and grabbed him by his tie. She then pulled him into a deep, sensuous kiss…one that included lips, tongue, and everything in between. Dr. Galen offered no resistance. If anything, he embraced it and not just because he hadn’t had time for love, relationships, or sex.

His soul had been so hardened, agonizing over the patients he lost rather than celebrating the patients he saved. In his never-ending effort to remain professional, as a doctor, he worked so hard to temper his passions. Over the years, he’d become way too good at it. In an instant, though, Anna removed those emotional restraints.

“Stand up,” the beautiful woman said, still clutching her tie. “Let someone else treat you, for once.”

Not questioning her credentials, Dr. Galen did as she asked, rising up from his chair so the stood at the edge of his desk. Almost immediate, Anna undid his pants, pulling pushing them down along with his underwear to free his growing manhood. Just seeing her breasts earlier got his blood flowing in the right direction. Kissing her had ignited his arousal and Anna seemed intent on accelerating it.

“Wow. Looks like you need extra treatment,” Anna teased.

“You have no idea,” Dr. Galen said under his breath.

Licking her lips, the young woman eagerly engulfed his cock with her soft lips. Then, with an intensity and passion he rarely saw in a cancer ward, Anna went to work giving him oral sex. Like a skilled surgeon performing a delicate operation, she sucked and licked along the length of his member.

That hot, moist feeling around his manly flesh was intoxicating, sending shivers of sharp sensation through his body. His knees nearly buckled, forcing him to hold onto her head where he ran his fingers through her long, silky hair. The stern poise that doctors were supposed to maintain further faltered, making way for more intense feelings.

“Anna…so thorough,” he gasped, the doctor in him still making observations. “That feels…so good.”

The young woman looked up at him with those seductive eyes as she sucked his dick. In them, he saw plenty of lust, but he saw just as much gratitude. She was really serious about thanking him. She wasn’t just looking at an accomplished doctor who hadn’t lost all his hair yet. She was looking at the man who saved her mother. That proved to be a powerful motivator.

The intensity of her oral sex escalated. She took in as much of his length as her gag reflex allowed, which proved quite impressive. She used her tongue along with her lips, grasping the base with both hands and working to maximize his arousal. It didn’t take long for him to reach that state. Between her blowjob skills and him not having had sex in a while, Dr. Galen soon felt the burning need to vent his pent up desires.

Anna must have sensed that need because she ceased her oral teasing, but kept stroking his cock with the utmost care. Already gasping for air, streaks of saliva dripping down her face, she bore the expression of a woman who had just as much desire.

“Mmm…nice and hard,” Anna said to him.

“It’s been a while,” Dr. Galen said sheepishly.

“That ends now!” the attractive woman said intently.

Without hesitation, she adjusted her body so that she could remove her revealing thong. She even made it a point to toss it to him, as if to give him a keep-sake. Dr. Galen caught it instinctively, which allowed him to feel how hot and moist they were. It showed just how aroused she was, the thought of giving herself to the man who saved her mother providing the ultimate turn-on.

“Take me, Dr. Galen,” Anna urged him, eagerly presenting him with her fully naked body. “Do whatever you need to do…as hard as you need to do it.”

“I assure you, Anna,” Dr. Galen told her as he loosed his tie, “what I need from you is not that extensive.”

“So try anyways,” she told him.

That came off as a diagnosis, of sorts…as though she could see his hardened soul and all the cracks that had emerged. He spent so much time treating others, but had ignored treating himself for his own ailments. Now, here she was, offering him the perfect medicine in the form of her sex.

Dr. Galen couldn’t get undressed fast enough. After undoing his tie, he threw off his white coat and undid his dress shirt. Anna even helped him, crawling over to the ledge of his desk and kissing him hard on the lips, her gratitude and affection showing with every gesture. She prioritized his treatment and he finally decided to do the same.

As soon as he got the rest of his clothes off, he eagerly took Anna by the hips and pulled her forward so that she was off his desk. Their lips never parted, his tongue wrestling with hers as he got his first taste of her naked skin. Then, with a recklessness not typical for an experienced doctor, he cleared an area on his desk by tossing aside the stacks of paper and assorted clutter, creating a nice space of clear mahogany with which to work.

Dr. Galen wasted no time in beginning the treatment, turning the young woman around and bending her over his desk to that those voluptuous breasts of hers pressed up against the wood. It also gave him his first solid look at her heart-shaped ass, which she wasn’t afraid to shake a little, as if he needed more incentive.

“I’m ready, Dr. Galen,” Anna said. “Go on. Treat yourself as much as I want to treat you.”

The middle-aged man didn’t say a word. Feeling a surge of energy that most men his age didn’t feel after midnight, he grabbed hold of the young woman’s hips and guided his throbbing member towards her wet crevice. His desires in overdrive, he thrust forward and entered her hot depths.

“Ohhh, Dr. Galen!” she moaned.

He responded only with a grunt. For a brief moment, the experienced doctor savored the feeling of her womanly flesh surrounding his rigid cock. He could feel her inner muscles tighten, as if to embrace him with her gracious affections. It gave greater meaning to the basic pleasures that followed, as well as greater incentive.

Flushed with vigor he hadn’t felt since med school, Dr. Galen began moving his hips, working his manhood inside Anna’s depths. For once, he wasn’t the overly careful doctor. Instead, he was the patient getting the treatment he needed. The treatment just happened to be the sex of a beautiful, grateful young woman.

“That’s it! That’s it, Doctor!” Anna gasped, matching his energy every step of the way. “Your treatment…so good.”

Those passionate cries spoke volumes for the potency of such treatment. It only got more potent as he stepped up the pace.

Grunting and gasping with greater intensity, Dr. Galen fervently pumped his cock into the young woman’s depths, rocking her body and his desk. She eagerly shifted with every thrust, elevating her right leg and raking her nails down the polished wood. He didn’t care if she left scratches. He didn’t even care when she knocked his phone off the table. Nothing mattered at the moment besides embracing the treatment he so sorely needed.

At one point, Anna rose up and guided one of his hands to her swaying breasts. The feeling of her fleshy mound in his hand added greater intimacy to their act. The way she placed her hand over his, urging her to caress her body and fill her depths, demonstrated more than the whims of a horny young woman. They revealed a sincerity behind the desire, a genuine effort to offer more than just a simple thank-you. Having received plenty of hugs and cards from cured patients, Dr. Galen welcomed that effort.

Whether by gratitude or raw lust, their bodies shifted over the course of their sex. Anna kept guiding his hands over her naked body, allowing him to feel almost every counter of her feminine figure. Dr. Galen found that she enjoyed having her nipples pinched. She also enjoyed having her buttocks rubbed a certain way. It showed in the way she moaned and gasped through each act.

“Anna,” he said in a deep tone as he rubbed her nipples, “you’re welcome…so very welcome.”

“Ooh thank you, Dr. Galen!” she said, mirroring his sentiment. “Thank you so much!”

His keen medical knowledge of the human body’s tender spots really paid off. He was fairly certain she climaxed at least once, although even his medical expertise only went so far. She didn’t seem to make that priority, though. Orgasms were a bonus rather than a goal. She remained intent on treating him.

In the spirit of maximizing that treatment, he repositioned her body in preparation for his own peak. He briefly withdrew from her depths, picked up her off the floor, and set her down on his desk so that she faced him. Her legs remained wide open, welcoming him back into her depths with ease. As he grabbed her by the thighs and resumed their sex, making an extra push towards a much-needed release, she threw her arms around his neck and gazed longingly into his eyes.

“You need this. You want this. I can feel it,” Anna said intently. “Please, Dr. Galen…let me give it to you!”

Dazed and desperate for that healing bliss, he kissed her deeply and wrapped his arms around her as he made his way to the brink. He embraced her as desperately as she’d embraced him, wanting to receive the powerful feeling she sought to convey. Through that shared effort – her offering and him taking it – Dr. Galen achieved a peak that was nothing short of a miracle cure.

“Ohhh Anna!” he exclaimed.

It was like diving into a pool of healing, feeling that powerful surge of pleasure and fulfillment. His hold on her tightened, his knees buckled, and his member throbbed inside her in conjunction with his release. Hot waves bliss rippled through his body, supplemented by Anna’s tender touch and affectionate embrace. In that moment, he felt his soul soften for the first time in years.

While locked in each other’s arms, her legs still secure around his waist, Dr. Galen just clung to her as she supported him in his blissful state. Her gracious gaze and warm smile never faded. She even caressed the side of his unshaven face, not caring about the gray hairs. It was like she had taken his hand and guided him out of a dark corner that he’d stayed in for too long. Instead of lamenting on the patients he lost, he celebrated the ones he’d saved.

“Anna…you were right,” Dr. Galen said, still breathless from his peak. “I did need that…more than you know.”

“Don’t you dare thank me, Doctor,” Anna teased, still caressing his face. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Well, I think you’ve made the extent of your gratitude quite clear.”

“Good!” she said. “That means I can skip a few steps from here on out.”

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“I mean…I’m still not done thanking you.”

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“Pile Of Leaves” A Sexy Short Story (About Fall)

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The following is a sexy short story that I wrote to celebrate the beginning of Fall and all the yard work that it incurs. Normally, there’s nothing sexy about that work. I hope to change that with this. Enjoy!

“I hate raking leaves,” muttered a sweaty and sore Darren Cole

“That’s that eighth time you’ve said that today. Keep it up and you’ll get a free burger,” teased Allison Drake, his fiancé and long-time lover.

“I’ll gladly exchange all the free food for the rest of my life to never rake leaves again.”

“I’d make that trade in a heartbeat if I could, but it’s October and we can’t afford a landscaping crew. This is just part of the life we have…and the one we’re trying to build.”

Darren groaned again, but stopped short of adding to the drudgery. He just gripped the rake a little harder, sweeping the last round of leaves into the sizable pile that he and Allison had made over the past four hours. It was hard, frustrating work, but his fiancé made an important point. Raking leaves was one part of an emerging life they had been forging together.

It had been five months since he’d proposed to Allison, but they had been acting like a married couple for years. Friends and family members used to joke that they were the youngest old couple they had ever seen. They’d grown up together in the same neighborhood. They’d endured puberty, high school, and multiple failed jobs. Along the way, falling in love with her just felt like a natural part of the process.

They had gone through so much together, from his father passing away to her older sister getting arrested. He and Alison could manage the obstacles. That was not an issue anymore. Building a stable life, however, seemed much more daunting.

“Building a life,” Darren mused as he packed more leaves onto the large pile, “I know it’s not supposed to be easy, but stuff like this…”

As he caught his breath and stretched his sore muscles, he turned towards Allison, who was also raking the last round of leaves from the yard. She was as dirty and sweaty as him, wearing those stained jean shorts she hated and the T-shirt with a hole in the sleeve that she refused to throw away. Even if they already acted like they were married, it still felt as though they were behind the curve.

In another six weeks, Allison was going to look her absolute best as they walked down the aisle together in a big, elaborate ceremony that his parents insisted on paying for. Darren was going to wear an overpriced tuxedo that his cousin had custom-made for him, one he claimed was worth more than the down payment he’d put down for his first car. Looking their best on their wedding was the easy part, though. It was the little things that often confounded Darren.

He and Allison had lived together for years in a small, but functional apartment. After he proposed, they agreed they needed a bigger place. They needed something stable and permanent, a place they could truly call home. It seemed so good on paper. Darren had no idea it would be so much work.

It started off easy. They didn’t have to search long for their first home together. His Aunt and Uncle had moved out of their old house earlier that year after retiring to a tropical climate. Rather than sell it to a stranger, they offered it to him and Allison at a discounted price. Having started new jobs and needing to rebuild their savings after such a big purchase, they had to build their new life in a very literal sense.

Just moving their stuff over from the apartment wasn’t enough. His Aunt and Uncle’s house was located on a big lot with lots of space, plenty of trees, and good views. It was an amazing place, especially for a couple of newlyweds, but it required a lot of upkeep. Raking leaves was just the latest in a long list of maintenance tasks that had kept them busy for the past several months. It seemed like there was no end to it.

“Do you think all this was necessary?” Darren asked as he caught his breath.

“What do you mean?” Allison asked after setting the rake aside.

“All this – the house, the yard, and all the crap that goes into it – was it really necessary for my Aunt and Uncle? I know they’ve been married 49 years, but how much of that was because they had this house and everything that came with it?”

“I doubt it was that big a factor,” she said. “I’m sure it helped. All this space and fresh air…how could it not?”

“That’s kind of my point. Did they buy this place because they needed it? Or did they buy it because they thought that was just what newlyweds did?”

“Are you questioning the basics of married life already?” Allison said with a chuckle. “Darren, we haven’t even gone on our honeymoon yet. Shouldn’t we wait a few anniversaries before we start questioning the institution?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound cynical. I guess raking all these leaves will do that to a man.”

“That, and you like to think ahead…sometimes to a fault.”

Darren laughed and shook his head. Allison knew him well. She knew his strengths and his weaknesses. While he didn’t consider planning ahead a weakness, he did see it at once of his quirks. It often annoyed his friends, but Allison didn’t mind. It might have even been part of why she fell in love with him.

As he kept dwelling on what awaited them in married life, his bride-to-be set the rake aside and took off the heavy gloves she’d been wearing. She then walked over to him and embraced him, not minding the dirt and sweat that had accumulated from hours of yardwork.

“Darren, do you know why I didn’t hesitate for a second when you asked me to marry you?” she asked him, that beaming smile of hers already easing his soreness.

“Are you going to tell me it wasn’t because paid my brother’s roommate to play our prom song?” he teased.

“Your knack for romantic gestures was just part of it,” she said. “A much bigger part was how well we work together.”

“Work? You make it sound like we share an office.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of work,” Alison said, rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about how we navigate things together. We don’t immediately default to you-do-your-thing and I-do-my-thing. We actually try to help each other, even if it’s something as simple as raking leaves.”

“Given how many leaves we just raked, I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.”

“It’s not about quality or quantity. It’s about our approach. It didn’t happen all at once, but at some point over the course of our relationship, we stopped seeing basic tasks as individual challenges. Even when we do things by ourselves, we keep each other in mind. I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of love or just something that happens to two people who have been together so long, but damn it if it doesn’t feel right.”

Allison caressed his face, running her fingers over his unshaven face. Again, the sweat didn’t bother her. If anything, it aroused her. The way she held him, her arms so affectionately draped around his neck, her love for him showed in so many ways…including the sexy ones.

At the same time, she made a keen observation that was easy to overlook for anyone who thought too much about the future. He and Alison had already gotten to a point that many married couples failed to reach. They saw works as a collaborative effort. Having known more than a few friends whose relationships failed without that effort, he quickly became more certain in both the present and the future.

“Yeah, it definitely feels right,” Darren told her, “among other things…other very sexy things.”

“You’re such a dog,” she teased.

“And you just love petting me,” he quipped.

“Which proves my point,” she added. “We’ve gotten past all the little things that usually keep a couple from making it down the aisle. We’re so good at it that the little things seem to stand out more.”

“Is that a good or a bad sign?”

“That’s just it…I don’t think it’s either. If anything, it’s an opportunity to appreciate just how lucky we are. I love you. You love me. We own a house, now. We’re getting married soon. If raking leaves is the most strenuous thing we do…hell, I’d say we’re doing a lot of things right.”

It almost made too much sense. Darren felt like berating himself for making such a big deal of it. Between fall rolling in so suddenly and having to learn the joys of yardwork once more, it was easy to forget just how lucky they were to have such a strong relationship. All the work they’d put into it made other work seem so mundane by comparison.

“You know just what to say to make me forget how much I hate yardwork,” Darren told her.

“That’s what good spouses do for each other,” Alison said playfully.

“I’ll remember that the first time I have to shovel snow from the driveway this winter.”

“So will I,” she said. “Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves why certain work is worth doing.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any less appealing.”

“Oh I don’t know. In my experience, a key benefit to sharing the work is giving it more appeal.”

“You honestly think you can make raking leaves that appealing?” Darren asked skeptically.

Almost immediately after uttering those words, his future wife cast him a mischievous grin. At that same moment, he Darren realized he did the one thing that brought out one of her most defining traits. He’d just challenged her and Alison loved nothing more than to rise to the occasion.

“Actually, I believe I can,” she said boldly.

“That wasn’t a dare,” he told her.

“Too late! I accept it.”

With energy that shouldn’t have been possible after four hours of yardwork, Alison pulled him into a kiss, complete with plenty of tongue and heavy passion. As sweaty and sore as he was, Darren eagerly kissed back. Anyone who had known the taste of Alison Drake would’ve done the same. Her love and her affection was just that powerful.

The only trait more powerful, in his experience, was her ability to captivate a man in any condition. Despite the sweat, dirt, and splinters, she eagerly pawed his upper body, conveying to him a desire that was not dispelled by the drudgery of raking leaves. In an almost fitting defiance of his hatred of fall yardwork, she led him onto the big pile of leaves they’d just created.

“Come on,” she said to him, “let’s put this big pile of leaves to good use!”

“I take it you’re not referring to composting,” Darren joked.

“No. I’m not,” Alison said in a serious, seductive tone.

Now lying together atop the messy pile, they made out like a couple of horny teenagers on prom night. She kissed him with more tongue, reaching up his shirt while hitching a leg around his waist, grinding her pelvis against his and really getting the blood flowing in all the right directions.

Darren kissed back with equal passion, slipping his hands into the back pockets of her shorts, giving her ass a firm squeeze. He knew how much she liked that, just as much as she knew how he liked to have his chest rubbed. He could already tell she was getting wet between her legs. The fact they knew each other’s bodies so intimately boded well for their honeymoon.

Every touch seemed to convey a growing desire. However, Darren hadn’t forgotten that they were still outdoors. While their back yard was fenced and the trees provided plenty of buffer, it still counted as an unusual location in which to vent their passions. That didn’t stop Alison from taking off her shirt, removing her bra in the process.

“Alison,” he gasped upon seeing her topless form, “we’re uh…still outside.”

“I know,” she said casually.

“It’s also a little chilly out. Are you sure?”

“Only if you’re willing to keep me warm,” she replied.

That sounded like both a challenge and a dare. Much like his future bride, though, Darren loved rising to the occasion. It didn’t just make for entertaining dares at parties in high school. It helped him become the dedicated lover he needed to be for Alison.

They made out some more. Darren made it a point to wrap her in his arms, hold her topless form close to him to keep her warm from the autumn gusts. He paid special attention to her nipples, which had become erect in the cold. When he gave them a slight pinch – a little kink that Alison never admitted to being a kink – she let out a purr of approval.

“Warm enough?” he asked her.

“Mmm…getting there,” Alison said playfully.

Encouraged, he stepped up his foreplay, trailing his lips over her cleavage and trailing his hands around her exposed skin. That helped keep her warm, but it also heightened his own arousal. He could already feel his pants getting uncomfortably tight.

Alison must have felt it too. Their hips grinding together probably gave it away. As they kissed, she undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants. Almost immediately, his cock popped free. The sudden exposure to the elements kept him from getting fully erect. However, his lover had already begun countering that by stroking it with both hands.

“Got to keep you warm too,” she said to him.

“Yeah…some parts more than others,” Darren said.

“Good thing I know how to prioritize.”

Working quickly and boldly, she maneuvered further down the leaf pile so she could give his penis more direct attention. That included shoving it between her breasts and sliding it between her fleshy mounds. That both kept him warm and helped hasten his arousal.

“Ooh!” he moaned. “You have amazing priorities, Alison.”

“Is that what we’re calling my tits, now?” Alison laughed. “I like it!”

Encouraged, she kept working his cock between her tits. Then, she leaned in and gave it a quick suck, sending shivers of bliss and desire coursing through his body. Even though the winds were brisk and the pile of leaves was cold, Darren felt a powerful heat build around him. It was hot enough to remove his flannel shirt, leaving him in the white sleeveless shirt he wore underneath. He kept that on, if only to keep the leaves from scraping his skin. It allowed him to focus entirely on the task at hand.

Alison did her part, using her breasts, lips, and tongue to get him into that special state where he didn’t just seek her intimate embrace. He needed it. She knew how to get him into that passionate mindset better than anyone. As he gazed down at her, that seductive gaze staring back at him, he let her know he was ready.

“I think we’re ready to really test this leaf pile,” she told him after giving his cock one last suckle.

“So do I,” Darren said.

With uncanny reflexes, Alison shot up to her feet briefly and removed her shorts, panties and all. He could tell even in the early twilight that she was very aroused. She needed his sex as much as he needed hers.

After tossing her clothes aside, wearing only a pair of old white sneakers, she rejoined him on the leaf pile. Like an angel in heat, she mounted him like her favorite perch, straddling his waist and aligning his rigid member with her wet entrance. Then, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other clutching his waist, Alison plunged her hips downward and guided his manhood into her pussy.

Immediately, their combined flesh sparked a heat that no fall or winter could hope to quell.

“Ohhh Darren!” Alison moaned.

“Alison…so warm and tight,” he moaned back.

Instincts and passion quickly took over. Their flesh united, they began moving together in a burst of heated lovemaking. It began with her lightly riding his cock, working her pussy along the length of his dick. It quickly escalated, turning into another passionate embrace mixed with heated kissing.

His hands eagerly roamed her naked skin, both to feel Alison’s heavenly touch and to keep her warm from more gusts. She replied with faster movements, rocking and gyrating her hips at a fervent pace. She threw in some loving gestures, which included her clinging to his neck and raking her nails along his back. Darren didn’t care if she left marks. They were already on top of a dirty pile of leaves. They were beyond caring about aesthetics.

In between the grunts and moans that came with sex, the pile of leaves under them rustled heavily. It was not at all like making love on a bed. Parts of it gave way. There were chunks of grass and mud everywhere, smothering and staining their remaining clothes and exposed skin. Darren didn’t care, though. Being messy, reckless, and adventurous only made the experience with his future wife more powerful.

“Alison,” he said in a passionate daze, “out here…together…on a pile of leaves.”

“Yes! Out here…together!” Alison exclaimed, her tone hinting that she was already close.

She rode him harder, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them as she crossed that special threshold that separated basic pleasure from the rush of orgasm. Alison never made it too hard for him. She once joked that she learned how to get off before she learned how to make love. Again, her priorities astonished him.

“I love you…so much,” she panted in the midst of ecstasy.

“I love you too, my autumn angel.”

Darren strengthened his embrace, holding her close so that she could enjoy her orgasm. As she buried her face in his shoulder, he kicked off his pants and underwear to give himself more room to work. Once certain that Alison had gotten her fill of bliss, he took the initiative and continued their sex.

With energy he shouldn’t have had after raking leaves for four hours, he continued making love to his fiancé, rolling around the pile of leaves as if it were a playground. She moaned and laughed as he maintained their passionate rhythm, hooking her legs around his waist and clinging to his neck to keep their bodies entwined. She didn’t seem to mind the leaves poking her skin or the mud on her back. She just kept returning every loving gesture, as if to guide him to his own peak.

“I…I’m getting close,” Darren grunted.

“You’ve worked so hard, my love. You’ve earned it,” she whispered into his ear.

Determined and encouraged, Darren intensified the pace of their sex, working his body against hers for the final push. He ascended quickly to his peak, his body shuddering in anticipation. When it finally arrived, he firmly grasped his lover’s hips and let out a cry to the autumn spirits, as if to proclaim to the heavens how much he loved his future wife.

“Ohhh Alison!”

He let out a deep grunt coupled with a satisfied moan. Time and the changing of seasons stopped for a brief moment. His gaze never diverted from hers as his member throbbed inside her, his manly fluids mixing with hers in a convergence of passion. The fact that convergence took place outdoors atop a dirty leave pile made it that much more meaningful.

Now breathing heavily, sweating despite the brisk air, he rested his forehead against hers as they settled into the post-coital afterglow. They laid next to one another, soaking in that special feeling under the autumn twilight. After the drudgery of raking leaves and assorted yardwork, it felt like a fitting way to cap off their day.

“What do you say, my future husband?” Alison said playfully, now lying next to him. “Do you hate yardwork a little bit less now?”

“I won’t say I love it,” Darren said with a coy grin, “but you definitely gave it more appeal.”

“I still call that a success! It should serve us well as newlyweds.”

“It definitely will,” he said confidently. “It’ll also give us even more incentive to make a much bigger leave pile next year!”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Mystery Stud” A (Kinky) Sexy Short Story

kink

The following is a sexy short story I wrote that demonstrates how a blindfold can be a catalyst for something kinky. Enjoy!

“Are you ready for this Marilyn?” asked Connie Chambers in her ever-coy tone.

“Ready, nervous, and excited as hell!” Marilyn Raven replied, trying hard not to sound like an overly-energetic little school girl.

“I’d ask if you’re sure, but you sound so giddy I’ll just skip the part where I act like your over-bearing friend.”

“I appreciate that. Now shut up and put the damn blindfold on me.”

Marilyn – or Mari, as her friends called her – didn’t usually bark orders like that. In fact, she was the kind of girl most described as friendly and soft-spoken, but a little more uptight than most women her age. Few would’ve guessed she had such a kinky side. Even fewer knew how much she loved to exercise it. Connie was among those select few and, on top of being her best friend since grade school, she had similar kinks. She even encouraged them.

“Okay, you horny slut,” Connie said, not yet matching her excitement. “I just hope you appreciate what we’ve had to go through to set this up.”

“Just shut up and blindfold me,” Mari retorted. “I’ll appreciate when I’m less horny.”

“Fair enough,” she laughed.

Connie, standing behind her in a cramped bathroom with poor lighting, placed the blindfold over her eyes. It was brand new, having purchased it less than six hours ago from their favorite sex shop where they were on a first-name basis with the owner. It was soft and silky, the kind meant to be comfortable for hours of continued wear. It spoke the extent of Mari’s sexual tastes that she’d put so much thought into something so simple.

She wasn’t surprised, though, and neither was Connie. They had been partners in kink, as they called it. They’d been helping each other explore their sexual appetites since they discovered how much they loved sex, which had been shortly after Mari realized how good she looked on a thong. What she had planned tonight was not the craziest thing she’d ever tried, but it had the potential to be something special.

“Make sure it’s comfortable,” Mari told her. “I don’t want it coming off before all is said and done.”

“Don’t worry,” Connie assured her. “You’re talking to a certified bondage queen, remember? I know all about making sure things are snug.”

Mari snickered, trusting her friend and focusing entirely on the latest sexcapade before her. It was part of the dynamic that she and Connie had developed. While Connie was usually the first to do something daring and new, Mari prided herself on her ability to refine it. That skill was exactly what had led them to a private sex club on a Thursday night in the middle of winter.

She’d planned it out a week ago. The club, itself, wasn’t that big. It was a bondage club that had been converted from an old bar. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary night club. It was in the exclusive areas upstairs where all the magic happened. That was where the dungeons, the hot tubs, and the bungalows were located. Everything from orgies to role playing to even wedding ceremonies had been known to occur behind the blacked-out windows.

Mari had set everything up ahead of time, reserving one of the smaller bungalows on the third floor that was typically used for BDSM and role playing. It contained a large bed with bondage accessories, including whips, handcuffs, and ropes. She wasn’t yet sure how much use those tools would get. If all went well, they wouldn’t be necessary.

“I’m trusting you to do a lot more than put on a blindfold,” Mari reminded her. “Trust is kind of a big theme for this.”

“No need to remind me,” Connie said, still standing behind her. “It always is with these sorts of things.”

“What I’m about to do, though…it’s going to be a hell of a test. Trust anybody this much, let alone a total stranger, is really pushing the kinkiness factor…even for me.”

“That’s part of the appeal,” her friend reminded her, “and rest assured, I intend to make it as hot as possible.”

She spoke in that deep, sensual tone again. Mari knew that tone well. It was the same tone Connie used when she had phone sex with her boyfriend. She only ever used it when she was either in the mood or really confident.

With the blindfold secure, the most critical step was complete. Her world now pitch-black, Mari could already feel the excitement growing. However, it was only the beginning.

“Time to get this show started!” Connie said. “Ditch the clothes, but leave the underwear.”

Mari couldn’t strip fast enough, slipping out of the fancy blue dress she’d bought last weekend and kicking off her heels. That left her only in a black lace thong with a matching push-up bra. She’d chosen attire that was easy to get out of and sent the right message. She was in the mood to get fucked, but she wanted to do it her way.

“You always had great tastes in thongs,” said Connie.

“Think it’ll get the job done?” Mari teased.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Her friend, now sharing her excitement, grabbed her arm and led her out of the bathroom. Mari followed closely, already feeling the plush carpet of the bungalow on her bare feet.

“Follow me,” Connie said. “From here on you, you keep your mouth shut unless you’re having an orgasm. Understand?”

“I understand,” Mari said, expecting those to be the last words she uttered for a while.

“Good! Then, lie down the bed, hold still for a bit, and wait for the magic to happen.”

Mari did as her friend asked, unable to stop herself smiling. It felt strange, given what she was about to do. A less adventurous, more prudish woman would’ve been fearful. Mari was not like that, though. She was different. She embraced the craziness that often came with her sex life.

With Connie’s help, she laid down in the center of the bed in the corner of the bungalow. She hadn’t used the room before and that was on purpose. She wanted everything to be unfamiliar, from the location to the types of sheets it used. Just feeling the plush, silky linens on her half-naked body was enticing. That was a promising sign in her book.

“I’ll be right back with your mystery stud,” Connie whispered into her ear. “Don’t you dare take that blindfold off. Just wait and the fun will come to you.”

Mari just nodded, taking deep breaths of anticipation as she laid still on the bed. She could feel the air around her getting hotter. Either the air conditioning was poor or she was just that horny. Whatever the case, she hoped she didn’t have to wait for too long.

Everything was silent for a while. She couldn’t even hear the music and chatter going on in other rooms, which was rare for the club on a Thursday night. She’d seen plenty of people crowding the bar downstairs. There were people there. She just didn’t know which one of them would be satisfying her tonight. That, in and of itself, was thrilling.

Being blindfolded, eager, and horny, time really slowed down for a while. On top of the soft, comfortable bed, she had little with which to occupy herself. Given how horny she felt, she fought the urge to just reach into her panties and masturbate. She managed to exercise restraint, but she could only last so long.

She couldn’t have been alone for more than a few minutes, but it still felt too long. For all she knew, it was on purpose. It was Connie’s way of building up the moment. If that was her tactic, it was cruel. If it worked, though, she would forgive her.

Finally, she heard the door to the room open and close. The sound, alone, made her tense with a mix of anxiety and arousal. She already heard footsteps approaching her. Then, she heard it.

“I’m here,” said a deep, masculine voice.

Mari’s heart skipped a beat. That voice, alone, conjured an image in her mind that added to her horniness. She immediately pictured a big, strong man standing in front of the bed, his every muscle bulging with testosterone. She also pictured a big, powerful dick hanging between his legs…a dick that she longed to feel inside her.

“Wow,” the voice said. “You’re even more beautiful than Connie described. She’s a woman of her word…and I intend to deliver as well.”

Her inner thighs moistened at that promise. The heat around her only intensified as she felt a figure crawl onto the bed with him. That proved the air conditioning in the club was working fine. It also affirmed that the man wanted her.

“I’d introduce myself,” he went on, “but Connie specifically told me not to give you my name. She doesn’t even want me to use a fake name. It’s not all about what she wants, though. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Mari trembled at the sound of that strong, masculine voice. She could only muster a nod, already feeling the warmth of his body near hers. She longed for his touch, but fought the urge to just jump him on the spot. She needed to trust in him and her plan.

“In order to do that, though, I need to do things my way,” he said. “That involves you trusting me completely. Do that from and we’ll both get what we want. You have my word.”

It was the most daunting part of her fantasy, placing implicit trust in a man she didn’t know and hadn’t even seen. Everything about their kinky situation related to trust. There was an inherent danger to it, making herself so vulnerable. There was also an immense thrill to it, one that helped fuel her desire.

Once again, Mari just nodded. She didn’t even attempt to reach out and touch the figure before her. If she was going to trust someone to such an extreme, then she was going to go all out.

“Good,” the man said. “Now, raise your arms over your head. I’m going to tie them to the headboard. Don’t worry. I’ll use soft rope.”

Mari did as he requested without hesitation, having already committed to the fantasy. She raised her arms up over her head. Moments later, she felt a soft rope wrap around her right wrist. Based on how quickly the man tied the knot, he had done it before. He was no stranger to bondage. He knew what he was doing. That inspired a bit more trust, as well as more arousal.

She remained still and vulnerable as the man tied her other hand. Before she knew it, her arms were perfectly secure above her head, rendering her completely vulnerable to the mystery stud in bed with her. Her heart was already pounding in her chest. She had no idea what the man was going to do to her or whether she could handle it. That feeling – a total lack of knowing an assurance, leaving her at the mercy of a stranger – evoked in her a special kind of excitement.

“So beautiful,” the man said, “tied up, blindfolded, and submissive.”

As he said those words, he caressed her face and trailed his hands down her body. Those hands were so hard, yet so warm. They felt like the kind of hands that threw bricks around for fun and built monuments. They radiated with the same intense manliness of his voice. Naturally, when those hands passed over her hips and chest, she shuddered with arousal.

“Your skin is so smooth and soft,” he went on. “Why don’t we get you out of that undersized underwear?”

Mari just smiled and purred softly, sending a seductive message that her mystery stud received loud and clear. Showing more eagerness, he swiftly unclasped her bra and removed her panties, leaving her completely naked. The feeling of hot air over her exposed breasts and inner thighs sent shivers down her spine, albeit the best possible kind.

“Such nice breasts,” the man said, “and such hard nipples, too. This is really turning you on, isn’t it?”

Before she could break her promised silence, he grasped her breasts with both hands, giving her nipples a light pinch in the process. Mari let out a high-pitched moan, her excitement echoing throughout the room. That further encouraged the man, who trailed one hand down between her legs where the heat from her pussy had reached maximum intensity.

“So hot and wet,” he said in a humored tone. “Guess that answers my question. That’ll make this next part easier.”

The mystery stud removed his hands from her breasts and pussy, leaving her untouched for a brief moment. That moment didn’t last long, though. Before she could linger too long in her bound state, she felt something brush along her chest and torso. It wasn’t a hand or a finger, either. It was a penis. Mari knew enough about human anatomy to know what a penis felt like on her flesh.

“You feel that?” the man told her. “Do you feel how hard I am?”

No answer was necessary. She clearly felt the intricate details of his stiff, rigid member on her naked skin. She also felt the bed shift as he got on top of her and slid his dick between her breasts, using his hands to mash them together to create a tighter fit.

Mari purred at the feeling. Connie most have told her she liked tit-fucking. Given the size and shape of her breasts, she was better-equipped for it than most women. It often went a long way towards getting a man in the mood and in her current state, it gave her a sense of how endowed the man really was.

As he playfully pumped his manhood between her breasts, Mari got an intricate feel for his size, shape, and firmness. She was already imagining what it would feel like inside her. Not being able to see it or hold it in her hands, she only had her imagination…her naughty, kinky imagination.

“I want to fuck you so much, right now,” the man said intently. “Seeing you here, all naked and bound…I want it so bad.”

Her mystery stud was getting impatient, sounding like a volcano of lust ready to blow its top. Mari wanted so bad to just tell him to do her like he wanted, but she refused to break her silence. That was still part of her fantasy.

She still had other ways of communicating her need, though. To show how much she wanted it too, she gave the tip of his dick a hard lick every time it neared her lips. It was a small feeling, but one that sent a clear message.

“You want it too,” he said. “You want it as much as I do.”

Mari just gave his dick another lick and grinned. She didn’t nod or moan. She wanted to build the anticipation in her mystery stud as much as he had with her. That ended up working faster than expected because he soon removed his cock from between her breasts.

“Then, to hell with dragging it out!” the mystery stud said. “I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to come. It’s going to be fucking amazing!”

There was so much certainty in his words. Mari had heard that sort of thing from men before, but it always came off as overly-macho confidence. Whoever her mystery stud was, he was beyond confidence. He clearly had a kink for control, which was probably why Connie chose him. Control allowed him to be certain. With her bound, blindfolded, and silent, he could exercise that certainty.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

Mari eagerly complied, already breathing heavily as she felt him re-position himself on the bed. She could feel his figure between her legs as he gripped her thighs and held them apart. He was even bigger than she’d imagined. In her mind, she pictured a hulking hunk of masculine flesh in bed with her. That mental image, along with everything else he’d done to her so far, made her crave his sex like never before.

“Here it comes,” the mystery stud told in that deep, intense tone of his.

Almost immediately, Mari felt it. In one targeted motion, the man thrust his cock into her pussy. He filled her moist depths even better than she’d imagined. Letting out a deep moan, she roughly clung to the ropes that had bound her wrists and took in the feeling.

It was so sudden, not being able to see it happen and only being able to react. She could’ve spent hours bracing for it and she still wouldn’t have been prepared. Being blindfolded and bound meant she had no clue as to how intense their sex was going to get, but that was exactly how she wanted it. She’d entrusted her mystery stud to give her everything and he went to work rewarding that trust with the kind of hot, vigorous sex that Mari so loved.

“Ohhh yeah!” the man grunted. “So tight and wet…I love it!”

His every word echoed with lust, which he directed entirely onto her. With their flesh entwined, her mystery stud began humping her with reckless abandon. He made good use of his control over her, really putting his legs and back into it, working his rigid manhood inside her tight folds. Such rigor allowed him to get in deep, stimulating those areas inside her that were so hard to reach, even with a capable lover.

The entire bed rocked and so did Mari’s world. She moaned and gasped every step of the way, letting herself get extra loud. She clung harder to the ropes restraining her wrists, as though she would fly off without them. It went beyond the basic pleasures of hot sex. It was thrilling, being bound, blindfolded, and fucked by a man she couldn’t see or control in any way. Her mystery stud was in control, dominating her like no man had.

He even demonstrated he knew how to make use of that dominance. As he maintained the intense pace of their sex, he released his grip on one of her thighs and used his thumb to rub her clitoris. The man must have paid attention to the women he dominated because that accelerated her path to orgasm. It came rushing towards her so fast, like an oncoming tidal wave that got closer with each passing second.

“Ohhh!” was all Mari could get out.

“You’re coming,” her mystery stud grunted. “I know you are. I want you to. Here…come for me!”

Whether by the extent of his control over her or sheer coincidence, Mari’s body reacted as though he had just flipped a switch. That wave of sensation hit her hard, sending her into a blissful frenzy. She curled her toes, arched her back, and let out a cry of euphoria that left her ears ringing. She was so animated with her climax that her mystery stud had to slow down the pace of their sex.

“Damn!” he said. “You’re one…kinky…woman!”

Mari just shot him a beaming smile, which encouraged him to hump faster again. Still immersed in a world of ecstasy, she embraced that kink that was now so obvious. She’d exercised plenty of fantasies before, but none had been that effective. It was good to know for future lovers.

For now, though, she focused on the mystery stud before her. Mari remained in her blissful daze as the man kept exercising his control, making a hard push for his own taste of ecstasy. He hitched her legs up over his shoulder, shifted his grip to her breasts, and worked his cock into her with more focus. Like a man on a mission, he pushed himself to achieve what he craved.

“Now…it’s my turn,” he grunted. “I’m ready! I’m going to…come!”

He put a little extra force behind his last round of thrusts. That seemed to do the trick. When he finally crossed that threshold, gave her breasts a hard squeeze and let out an extra deep grunt as he climaxed.

It must have been pretty intense for him, as well. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her pussy, radiating with the same orgasmic ecstasy she had felt. The way his muscles felt on her body, his sweat mixing with hers under his powerful grasp, just radiated with so much sensual feeling. His control over her and her submission helped compound that feeling, making for the kind of sex that was both kinky and satisfying.

“Wow,” he said. “That was…wow.”

Still dazed from her climax, Mari just focused on catching her breath while her mystery stud lingered in their intimate entanglement for a while. Eventually, he withdrew from her and released her from his grasp. He even undid the ropes, but Mari still didn’t dare remove her blindfold or reach out to embrace the man.

Even though the sex was finished, orgasms and all, the fantasy wasn’t over. To maintain the power of that fantasy, she could never know what her mystery stud looked like. It was somewhat frustrating, not knowing who just gave her such great sex. That was part of what made it meaningful, though.

“Thank you, Mari,” her mystery stud whispered into her ear. “You’re a wonderful, kinky experience…one I won’t soon forget.”

Then, in an act that seemed out of place after such an elaborate sex act, he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before leaving the bungalow. It was an odd notion, a man who loved to fuck hard and dominate his lover, offering such an affectionate gesture. Mari still gladly accepted it. If nothing else, it completed the mental image of the mystery stud who’d just given her such great sex. That, more than anything, made the fantasy feel truly complete.

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