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“My Sweet” A Sexy Short Story (For The Day After Valentine’s Day)

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The following is a sexy short story for those still basking in the afterglow of Valentine’s Day. If you had a bad Valentine’s Day or were alone, then maybe this will help rekindle your sense of romance. I know it’s been a while since I wrote a sexy short story. I decided Valentine’s Day warranted the extra effort. If you’d like to see more, please let me know in the comments. Enjoy!

“Mmm…that smells so good,” said Calvin Gains with a wide, excited grin.

“You must be hungry. I just put a fresh batch in the oven,” replied his beautiful wife, Candy.

“You’re right, my sweet. I am hungry…and then some.”

Joyous, playful laughter filled the kitchen of the undersized suburban house Calvin shared with his high school sweetheart turned dedicated spouse. Candy – a perfectly befitting name, if ever there was one – had a knack for making every kitchen smell heavenly. With the holidays around the corner, she’d been busier than usual.

Calvin, always one to show his appreciation, snuck up behind his long-time lover and slipped his arms around her waist. She responded with a soft purr and a loving smile. The fact that she still smelled like flour, sugar, and cinnamon wasn’t lost on him, either. If anything, it gave him more reasons to kiss down her neck and inhale her sweet scent.

“I used your favorite recipe,” Candy told him, still standing in front of the hot oven, “an extra pinch of vanilla…a little bit of nutmeg…and a double dose of cocoa powder.”

“If you’re trying to make me hungrier, you’re doing too good a job,” Calvin said, deepening his embrace and intensifying his kisses.

“You know me. When it comes to cooking the best holiday treats and pleasing my husband, I like to overdo it!”

Ever since they got married, Calvin didn’t think he could love this woman more than he already did. Time and again, year after year, she proved him wrong. During the holidays, she always went the extra mile.

The kitchen was still a mess, as it often was whenever Candy spent more than an hour laboring over her famous triple chocolate sheet cake. It was just one of the many wonderous dishes she prepared for him and the family over the holidays. Her grandmother had owned a bake shop and her mother was a renowned chef. She’d grown up in a home surrounded by skilled cooks who knew their way around the kitchen.

To her, cooking for loved ones meant more than just preparing a meal. It was its own unique way of conveying affection. Calvin, having grown up on TV dinners and soggy leftovers, didn’t know just how much affection could be shared through something as simple as food. She’d actually made him cookies when they went on their first date. She offered them to him with the same loving sentiment that he’d shared when he offered her flowers.

It was the first sign that Candy was a special woman. She proved it once more when she turned around within his embrace, wrapped her arms around his neck, and captured her lips with hers. Even through her lipstick, Calvin could taste traces of the batter. It was so sweet that his heart skipped a beat.

“Mmm…tasty,” she said lovingly.

“Speak for yourself,” he quipped.

That little taste stirred more than just his appetite. As they kissed in the middle of the dirty kitchen, the heat from the oven raised the temperature of the area. It was already hot to begin with, as was often the case whenever Candy cooked, but such heat only intensified his passions.

It made clothes feel sticky and sweaty.

It made hearts beat faster.

It made every touch seem more intimate.

Whether due to the growing heat or his escalating hunger, Calvin craved a more fulfilling form of love. He held her closer and kissed her harder, their bodies pressing together, as if nourished by their ambitious touch. He was just wearing a sweater and jeans. She had on a skirt, a tight-fitting T-shirt, and an apron. However, when he traced his hand down her waist, eventually making his way towards her inner thighs, he discovered an unexpected treat.

“Ooh! What have we here?” Calvin said, breaking the kiss, but keeping her in his embrace. “Candy Gains, are you wearing fancy lace underwear while you’re cooking?”

“You mean the same underwear I wore on our anniversary last month?” she said coyly. “I think I am.”

“I want to say I’m shocked, but given how much you love to cook and how much passion you put into each dish…”

Calvin’s words trailed off. As his tone grew deeper and manlier, he skillfully slipped his fingers into her panties to feel the womanly flesh beneath. He was gentle, but direct. He knew just how his wife liked to be touched in her intimate areas. He also knew what got her aroused. Being in a kitchen, cooking her favorite treats for her loved ones, definitely got her juices flowing.

“Just so you know…the cake needs to cook for at least 20 minutes,” Candy told him, already gasping intently under his touch.

“Hmm…20 minutes, you say?” Caivin said, now speaking directly into her ear. “That’s a long wait when you’re hungry.”

“Well, there are ways we can pass the time.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” he asked, as though he didn’t already know.

Candy laughed playfully before turning around within his embrace, locking eyes with his and casting that beaming smile that was every bit as sweet as her name. The fact that she still smelled like flour and chocolate only made it sweeter.

Without saying a word, she kissed him passionately on the lips. At the same time, she slipped her hands under his sweater and pawed his manly flesh. It sent the message she needed to send. He responded in kind, twirling his tongue with hers while still feeling up her skirt. While one appetite eagerly waited, another became more pressing.

“Sweater…pants…off!” she gasped in between desperate kissing.

Her voice was muffled, but Calvin heeded her impassioned call. He removed his sweater as quickly as he could. He didn’t even think twice about tossing it into the dining room, leaving him shirtless in the middle of a hot kitchen. Before it was even off, Candy went to work undoing his pants. There was already a noticeable bulge in the way. That didn’t stop her from getting them off, underwear and all.

Even as she helped strip him naked, the heated kissing continued. It kept the passions flowing while also supplementing his wife’s arousal. As soon as he kicked his pants off, he lifted her up in his arms and set her down on the kitchen counter across from the oven. From there, he reached up her skirt again and removed her panties. She even elevated her hips, assisting him every step of the way.

“Do me, Cal. Do me right here on the kitchen counter!” Candy urged.

“Does this count as an appetizer?” he asked coyly.

“It can be…depending on how mannerly you intend to be.”

“You know me, my love. Even when I’m hungry, I always mind my manner!”

As if to remind – and it wouldn’t have been the first time he did so in the kitchen – he dropped to his knees and pushed her legs apart. He spread them so wide that she knocked over some empty cans of ingredients, but she didn’t mind in the slightest. He’d clean it up later himself. For now, he had another kind of meal before him.

Candy had become more aroused than he thought. He could already see her exposed womanhood under her skirt. She was already wet, but in the same way she loved cooking delicious treats, he loved getting her intensely aroused.

“Mmm…my favorite appetizer,” Calvin said as he licked his lips in anticipation.

With an unobstructed view and a clear path, he buried his head between her legs and gorged on her pussy. He was thorough, but mannerly, using his lips and tongue with the utmost care to stimulate her tender folds.

His good manners paid off. Candy let out sharp gasps that echoed loudly throughout the kitchen. She became so aroused that she reached under her apron, lifted up her shirt, and began fondling her breasts. In doing so, she revealed that she hadn’t been wearing a bra. That hinted to Calvin that she’d planned on getting him horny with her holiday cooking. If that were the case, then her plan worked perfectly.

“Cal! Oohhh Cal!” Candy moaned with delight. “Dine on me, my love! Dine!”

Calvin responded with only a muffled grunt. Still holding onto her thighs, her legs spread in a perfect V-shape, he stepped up his oral efforts.

He probed her hot folds with his tongue, hitting all those special parts that he knew so well. He trailed his lips up and down her slit, giving special attention to her swollen clitoris. He felt her body shudder under the onslaught of sensations. Looking up, he saw her joyous expression. She even banged her head back against the kitchen cabinet at one point, arching her back and squeezing her breasts. It was a beautifully erotic sight, one that made her feminine juices taste even sweeter.

It would’ve been good manners to keep eating her out until she climaxed. However, Calvin couldn’t keep ignoring his own escalating appetite. Between his stomach and his dick, desire compounded desire. Now intoxicated by the taste of his wife’s flesh, he broke with formality and rose back to his feet.

“I know it’s not time for dessert,” he said as he positioned himself between her legs, “but I need at least a sample of the main course.”

“Calvin, my darling husband,” Candy said with a seductive grin, “take all the samples you need!”

“Even if I work up a bigger appetite in the end?”

Especially if you work up an appetite!” she said intently.

Like an angel seeking to nourish his very soul, his beautiful wife drew him into another embrace and kissed him. She didn’t care that his face had just been between her legs. If anything, that turned her on even more. She wanted him. She was as hungry for his sex as he was hungry for hers. With their lips locked and their bodies eager to satiate that hunger, Calvin took the first proverbial bite.

He thrust his hips forward.

He entered her wet womanly depths with his hard, manly flesh.

He shifted his hands to her hips while she locked her legs around his.

From there, their passions overtook their hunger. It didn’t matter that their kitchen wasn’t the most spacious room in the house. It also didn’t matter that the counter was dirty, cluttered, and not made to support an impassioned woman making love to her husband. The only thing that mattered was that they were together, their bodies entwined and their love taking a tangible form, just as his wife’s delicious treats cooked behind them.

“Yes! Yes! Oh Cal! Ohhh Cal!” Candy panted as they moved to the heated rhythm.

“Candy! My sweet, beautiful love! Ohhh yes!” he gasped.

He stepped up the pace of their lovemaking, moving his hips back and forth, working his throbbing manhood within her tight folds. They had already worked up quite a sweat and not just because of oven. Calvin could still smell the cake. That hadn’t been lost on him, even as their bodies rocked and their moans filled the kitchen. It was almost fitting, making love to the woman who nourished his body with the same passion she put into her meals.

Like her uncanny culinary skills during the holidays, such passion paid off. He sensed her nearing an orgasm already. Candy always got very animated during their lovemaking, even during spontaneous acts. She hitched her legs up, grabbed onto his shoulders, and narrowed her gaze on him. He could even feel her inner muscles contracting harder around his manhood, as if her body were embracing him as much as her heart.

“Cal…I’m close,” was all she got out through labored gasps.

“Come, my sweet. Come!” he told her.

She took his loving words to heart. After a few more focused movements, Calvin sent his lover over the edge. Her expression tensed to the flood of sensations. Her nails dug into his shoulders while her grip with her legs tightened. He could feel his lover shudder under the weight of her release. As he took in the view, he smiled and caressed her face.

Watching her react to the rush of ecstasy was always such a spectacle. Seeing it while her delicious treats cooked in the background made it even more rewarding. Candy even acknowledged that. As she took in her release, she leaned in and kissed him lovingly. She then whispered something telling into her ear.

“There’s still time to work up an appetite,” she said to him.

“I know,” he said with a mischievous undertone. “And I intend to use it!”

He kissed her again, trailing his lips down her neck and listening to her labored gasps. Once certain she had caught her breath, he resumed their impromptu kitchen lovemaking.

With plenty of hunger still driving him, he withdrew from her briefly and realigned their now-sweaty bodies. Candy laughed gleefully, still in a post-orgasmic daze, as he bent her over the kitchen counter and positioned himself behind her. Now with a perfect view of her heart-shaped butt, which was still partially covered by her skirt, he guided his manhood back into her.

Once their flesh was re-entwined, he resumed their sensual rhythm. This time, however, he stepped up the intensity.

“Ooh, Cal! Oohhh yeah!” Candy moaned. “That’s it! Work it! Work it like that!”

“Mmm…Candy,” Calvin grunted.

She was encouraging him to cut loose and use that well-nourished body of his. Having helped nourish it through her cooking, she enjoyed the fruits of her labor as much as him. Calvin responded to her encouragement as best he could. The results were as sweet as any treat.

Back and forth, he worked his hips. He rocked her body with his intimate motions, keeping a firm hold of her hips. The sound of their flesh colliding filled the kitchen, along with more moans. Like any delicious appetizer, Calvin savored every bit of it. He enjoyed drawing out their lovemaking, just as he enjoyed drawing out a good meal. At times, he even leaned in and whispered his loving sentiment’s into his wife’s ear.

“You are…the sweetest thing…in the world,” he said to her.

Candy responded with more joyous moans and loving gestures. Through their steady succession of movements, Calvin built towards his own release. Candy even helped, bucking her hips and guiding his hands to her breasts to give him the energy he needed for that final push. He could already feel that intimate heat in his core building. His beautiful wife simply gave it the necessary spark to ignite it.

“Candy…I’m close too,” Calvin said through labored grunts.

“Come, my love! Your dessert awaits!” she said playfully.

He delivered the last round of desperate motions. Finally, Calvin crossed that final threshold and entered that special world of delectable bliss. It was as savory as any hungry, impassioned man could’ve hoped.

As he soaked in his release, he wrapped his arms around his wife, rested his chin on her shoulder, and let out a euphoric gasp that filled the kitchen. She took his hands in hers, holding onto him as he enjoyed the feeling. He felt her womanhood embrace him as well, contracting and throbbing as he released his load into her womanly depths. It was the final ingredient to a perfect dish of passion and it couldn’t have been sweeter.

“I love you, my sweet wife,” Calvin said to her.

“I love you too, Cal…my delicious husband,” Candy replied.

Their intimate flesh parted, but they remained in a loving embrace. Still hot and sweaty from their lovemaking, they shared another soft kiss to complete their intimate act.

Then, in a moment that couldn’t have been timed better, the timer on the oven went off. Candy’s cake was complete.

“Perfect timing!” she laughed.

“I’ll say,” Calvin said.

“See? That wasn’t too long a wait.”

“I admit, you made it easier,” he said. “It’s almost as though you knew your famous holiday treats would get me in a particular mood.”

“What can I say? I enjoy satisfying all my husband’s appetites!”

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“Treat Day” A Sexy Short Story (About Food)

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The following is a sexy short story that mixes delicious treats and tender lovemaking. It’s a potent and passionate combination, if ever there was one. With Thanksgiving less than a week away, I hope it helps everyone work up an appetite, among other things. Enjoy!

“Everyone needs an occasional treat day. It makes the rigors of life worthwhile.”

That was the mantra that Wesley Wyatt preached to his clients as their personal trainer, certified nutritionist, and sometimes life coach. It helped communicate the message the health, beauty, and vitality required hard work and incredible discipline. Achieving any worthwhile goal demanded some amount of sacrifice, including the strain of exercise or the distress of abstaining from delicious food.

Wesley learned that first a college athlete turned and again as an assistant coach. Having been sickly, overweight, and unhealthy as a kid, he valued those lessons more than most. He tried to impart them onto his clients, as well. However, another part of that lesson involved tasting the fruits of their labor and not just with respect to looking good at the beach.

He actually encouraged his clients to set aside a certain time of the week to enjoy a special treat. Other trainers called it a “cheat day.” He called it a “treat day.” To Wesley, it wasn’t just a tactic to help others endure the demands of his program. It acted as a catalyst that made people hungrier for life’s greater joys. In his experience, it motivated people more than barking orders.

He knew this not just because his services commanded high prices from professional athletes, celebrities, and models. A big part of what made Wesley so effective as a trainer was that he practiced what he preached. He’d been doing so every Friday night since his senior year in high school. What made it even more effective was that he shared his treat day with someone special.

“Are you ready for your weekly treat, my darling?” asked the angelic voice belonging to Lina Hope-Wyatt.

“I’m ready, my love,” Wesley said intently, “ready and hungry.”

“Then, what are you waiting for? Pass the butter, please!”

He’d been waiting all week to hear those beautiful words. Every week, the wait was arduous, but always worth it. Tonight was no exception.

Lying atop an inflatable mattress, which he’d set up in the basement den of a suburban house, was his high school sweetheart turned wife. What she’d just told him let him know that his favorite treat once again awaited him. Even enjoying it regularly for years, it got him excited in all the right ways.

“My God, you make it sound so sexy,” he told her.

“I know,” she chuckled in a playful tone. “And to think, other women have to resort to dirty talk and imported lingerie to turn their husbands on.”

“Guess I’m just that lucky.”

“Hand me that butter and you’ll feel even luckier!”

Lina casually held out her hand, casting him that seductive glance that she knew drove him wild. Wesley, standing over the inflated mattress in nothing but a pair of unwashed sweatpants, eagerly gave in. He reached out and handed her a tub of body butter that he’d melted in the microwave. Once she had, it she put it to good use.

Without hesitation or concern about making a mess, she poured the hot, viscous substance over her half-naked body. It was a sight that got Wesley’s heart racing and his blood flowing. It also filled the room with the sweet smell of melted butter. The aroma reminded him of his favorite desserts as much as his favorite moments with the woman he loved. It made his stomach growl and his pants tighten.

“Mmm…I feel luckier already,” Wesley said as he watched his wife smother the slippery substance over her naked skin.

“I can tell,” Lina said, her gaze narrowing on the bulge of his pants. “You must have had a long week…a long, hard week.”

“You have no idea,” he told her.

“I had to work late and skip long showers to meet deadlines,” she said, rubbing the butter on her body more intently. “Believe me. I have some idea.”

Wesley licked his lips in anticipation and watched his love put on a sexy show. Still hovering intently over the mattress, he watched Lina smother herself with the melted body butter that they always kept in stock within their home. She wasn’t careful with it, either. She spread it on every part of her body, from head to toe. Within minutes, she glistened like a goddess under the dimmed lights of the spacious den.

He’d seen this show many times before, but it never ceased to astonish him. Watching Lina pour a tub of body butter over her body was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. Like him, she’d been an athlete in college. Also like him, she worked hard to maintain a stunning figure that helped made her the face of the modeling agency she co-founded with her older sister. Her voluptuous feminine figure had made bikinis, lingerie, and even pajamas look sexy.

However, what she wore on Friday nights rarely made it onto centerfolds. Instead of lace panties or fancy lingerie, she opted for a simple pair of edible panties. They had to be edible because it helped their enjoyment of this weekly treat. Wesley even made it a point to have a light dinner so that he would be hungry enough for this moment.

Lina must have been hungry too because didn’t even bother with a bra this time, letting her perfect breasts hang out for him to see. She even applied extra butter to her breasts, mashing them together and shooting him that seductive gaze that let him know their treat was almost ready.

“What do you think, my hungry hubby?” Lina asked with playful casualness. “I’m all hot, horny, and buttered up.”

“I think you just described the most important ingredients to our favorite treat,” he told her. “After a week of garden salads, protein shakes, and egg-whites, I’m ready for something sweeter.”

“As am I, my darling,” she said. “So, what are you waiting for? Have a taste!”

Wesley couldn’t temper his appetites any further. The bucket of body butter was empty. His beautiful wife was completely covered, her body glowing with an erotic halo and exuding a delectable aroma. A good portion of the substance flowed off her, onto the inflatable mattress, and over the sides. They had a few towels on the floor to soak up the mess, but clean-up was the last thing on his mind. His wife had made him his favorite treat and he craved a taste.

His mouth watering and his every breath thick with arousal, he joined his wife on the inflatable bed. First, he laid down on top of her and kissed her lips. Much to his surprise and delight, she wore that fancy brand of lipstick that made her lips taste like candy. He showed his appreciation by kissing her with extra passion and intensity.

Next, he trailed his lips down her face and neck, his exposed chest and upper body pressing against hers, smearing plenty of the butter onto him as well. Plenty of it got on his pants, in his hair, and all over his face, but he couldn’t care less. As soon as he tasted her smooth, butter-laden skin, his senses were inundated with the sweetest delights.

“Mmm…delicious!” Wesley said while licking around her cleavage.

“Oohhh! You are hungry tonight!” Lina said, already squealing with joyous delight.

Following both his hunger and his passions, Wesley licked and suckled his way down to his love’s breasts. She’d applied extra to her gorgeous mounds. She loved having her breasts fondled and she knew he loved fondling them. He rarely needed extra incentive, but he followed it anyways, kneading her breasts and suckling on her hardened nipples.

“Ooh! Keep that up and you’ll make me just as hungry!” Lina said.

“Good to know,” Wesley said coyly.

He gave each breast a firm squeeze, spreading the buttery substance around before thoroughly licking it up. Lina reacted with more euphoric squeals. He felt her slippery body writhe under his touch, her arousal becoming more animated by the second. That was part of his goal. To share in their favorite treat, her appetite needed to match his.

After thoroughly tasting her breasts, Wesley made his way down her well-toned core. He eventually arrived at her inner thighs, which were still covered by the edible panties. By then, the panties had become soaked in the butter. It had the scent of a freshly baked biscuit that had just come out of the oven. In that moment, the blurred the line between hunger and passion become hopelessly blurred.

“The smell…the taste,” Wesley said in a daze, “I want it so much!”

Like a kid gorging on his favorite treat, he ripped up the panties and began consuming them, along with his lover’s moist womanhood. While edible panties weren’t known for their palatable taste, the presence of melted butter made them as delicious as any dessert. The fact that Wesley had a light dinner showed, but the fact he hadn’t tasted Lina’s intimate flesh showed even more.

“Oohhh yeah! Bon appétit!” she cooed.

He quickly ran out of panties to consume. It left him only with his wife’s exposed, butter-laden pussy. That proved plenty appetizing, especially for a man whose love of weekly treats was only matched by the love he had for his wife.

Wesley lapped up Lina’s womanly flesh with both desire and determination. He grabbed onto her thighs, pushed her legs apart, and followed his tongue into the moist slit that radiated her intoxicating arousal.

He licked up and down her slit, giving special attention to her clit. That got her moaning. Then, he lapped his tongue inside her folds, hitting those sensitive spots he knew so well. That got her moaning even louder. Her taste was so unique, the moist flesh mixing with the buttery substance in perfect harmony. It didn’t just make the act of giving oral sex more effective. It made it downright delicious.

“That’s it, babe! That’s it!” Lina moaned. “Eat me! Devour my pussy!”

Hearing those moans and those words of hungry passion encouraged Wesley to keep gorging. They also helped inflame his own burning arousal.

By now, his pants were just unbearably tight. They were covered in body butter and heavily stained. With this face still buried in Lina’s pussy, he let go of her thighs and shed his dirtied pants as quickly as he could. Upon kicking them to the side, he gave his wife’s womanly folds a few more teasing licks before retracing his path with his lips, ascending her naked body until he was lying on top of her.

“Ready for the main course?” Wesley said, grinning even as his face dripped with a mix of butter and feminine juices.

“As ready as any hungry wife can be!” Lina said, grinning lovingly back at him.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, locking him in an embrace that enmeshed her butter-covered flesh with his naked body. It was so hot and slippery, the sinews of their flesh melding perfectly in their intimate embrace. It added both heat and hunger to their passion and Wesley was ready to indulge both.

Now immersed in her loving grip, he aligned his body with hers, guiding his throbbing hard manhood to her moist entrance. That was uniquely challenging for two naked bodies atop an inflatable mattress, but their intimate hold on one another helped get them into position. However, their passion proved greater than any challenge. Once in position, Wesley initiated with sweetest part of their treat, entering his love and filling her waiting womanhood with manly length.

“Lina…my sweet wife,” he gasped.

“Wesley…my sweet husband,” she moaned.

For a moment, they lingered in the heat of their intimate union, gazing into one another’s eyes and soaking in the moment. Then, Wesley drew his wife into a loving kiss. Their lips locked, he began moving their bodies in a heat of intimate motions. Both the lover and the professional trainer in him showed. Even the act of enjoying a delicious treat required some extra effort.

“Mmm…bon appétit, indeed,” Wesley said, mirroring his wife’s sultry tone from earlier.

“Oohhh yes!” was all she got out.

With slippery flesh, surrounded in an aroma of buttery sweat and intimate heat, he made love to Lina in a way befitting of his hungry heart. Every movement was intense, focused, and through. He made use of his muscular arms and strong hands, maintain a firm grip on her hips as he rhythmically worked his body along hers. His manly flesh slithered smoothly and seamlessly inside her womanly folds, turning sweet sentiments into delicious pleasure that flowed freely between their bodies.

The presence of the body butter made their lovemaking uniquely special. Every kiss, touch, and thrust was so effortless and intoxicating. There was no hindrance or undue friction. Together, they could maximize every motion, enjoying the fullest extent of their passion and then some. It was like dipping a delicious treat in more frosting. For two lovers whose jobs involved discipline and restraint, it was wonderfully intoxicating.

“This is it,” Wesley mused as he made love to his wife. “This makes it all worth it…every struggle, every strain, and every sacrifice. This makes it so worth it!”

He lovingly indulged in that feeling with his wife, sharing every taste of ecstasy every step of the way. They wildly kiss, touched, groped, and humped atop the flimsy air mattress, not caring at all that they slipped around and made a bigger mess. Great indulgence tended to leave big messes in their wake. He and Lina, true to their competitive nature, loved pushing that concept to the limit.

Over the course of training, pushing limits often meant enduring strain. When making love, however, it was the complete opposite. Pushing themselves incurred greater ecstasy. More ecstasy inspired more effort. For an act that he and Lina pursued as a treat, it was as fitting as it was satisfying.

Through their naked, undulating movements, Wesley and his wife filled the den with the potent scent of sweat, sex, and body butter. They tested both their endurance and the ability of an inflatable mattress to support two naked bodies. They drew it out, pushed themselves, and indulged in every tasty desire, building towards a climax that doubled as the ultimate desert.

“I’m close, darling. I’m so…so close!” Lina said, whispering into his ear as while his face was buried in her shoulder.

“So am I!” he said. “I’m ready…when you are!”

“Just a little longer. Just a little…bit…oohhh God!”

He felt her body tremble in anticipation of her release. Lina always got very animated when she climaxed. She bent her knees back, curled her toes, and raked her nails down his sweaty, butter-laden back in anticipation. Wesley steadied the pace of his movements, squeezing her hips in just such a way that it gave her the extra nudge she needed.

When she came, it hit her like a thunderous surge. She let out a euphoric cry that left his ears ringing in the best possible way. In his embrace, he could feel her body writhe under the onslaught of pleasure. The hot throbbing sensation around his member inside her helped give him the nudge he needed as well. When he crossed that threshold, he shared in that delightful desire, letting out a deep grunt that acted as the cherry atop their favorite treat.

“Delicious! So…delicious!” he said in the throughs of ecstasy.

The heated movements finally settled. Hard male flesh and warm feminine depths converged to make their intimate bliss tangible and real. As their fluids mixed and their bodies remained enmeshed, Wesley took her hand in his, enlacing their fingers before kissing her passionately once more.

Her lips still had that sweet, cherry-flavored taste. For the treat they’d just shared, it was so fitting. As they soaked in the waning moments of their indulgence, Wesley withdrew from his love and laid down next to her. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat, butter, and afterglow. She remained curled up next to him, his arms draped around her while they digested their latest treat.

“I love you,” he told her in his impassioned daze.

“I love you too,” Lina said with a beaming, post-coital smile. “And I love how you go about sharing your favorite treats.”

“You help make it worth sharing. For all the work we do…for the love we’ve built all these years…it’s truly the ultimate treat.

 

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“The Great Exchange” A Sexy Short Story (For Halloween)

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The following is a sexy short story involving beautiful women and sexy demons. With Halloween just a few weeks away, I thought I’d get everyone in the spirit with a little supernatural sex appeal. Enjoy!

In every involving demons, devils, angels, and saints, there was a common theme. Anyone who dared make a deal with them often paid a high price. It didn’t always involve their soul, either. The moral of those stories was clear. Do things the “right” way and the right people got rewarded. Do things in a selfish, short-sighted way only led to loss and misery.

There was just one glaring problem with those stories.

They only ever told stories with a certain outcome, namely the one that helped ignorant idealists idealist sleep better at night.

Delilah Davidson had heard all those stories too. Growing up in a small, conservative town full of uptight, traditional people, she knew most of them by heart. Nobody ever questioned them. Everyone just assumed they were simple, right, and true. Then, she dared to defy every one of those stories when she made a deal with a demon…a real, non-metaphorical, full-fledged demon.

“I’m willing to pay that price. I’m willing to take that chance.”

Those were Delilah’s exact words when she made that fateful decision years ago. She told them to the reflection of her 17-year-old self that appeared in a dirty mirror at a cheap motel. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but she still remembered that day vividly.

It was the day she and her inept, deadbeat mother got kicked out of their apartment a week before her high school graduation.

It was also the day that a demon named Sephiron appeared to her with an offer.

On that day, Delilah learned two important lessons. Firstly, demons were real. That much, the stories got right. Secondly, the narrative surrounding demons, angels, and every mythical creature in between was far more complicated than anyone realized.

“Tonight’s the night, Delilah…our favorite night of the year,” his demonic voice echoed, just as the clock struck midnight.

“Halloween,” Delilah said with a wide grin. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“I know you have. And, once again, it’ll be worth the wait!”

“It always is, Sephiron. It always is.”

Just as she had years ago, Delilah said that to her reflection in a mirror. Unlike that fateful day, the mirror was within a spacious bathroom in her luxurious penthouse in the heart of a city known for bloated real estate prices. The woman in that reflection was different to, but in a far more profound way.

Having just gotten out of the shower, she gazed at the voluptuous figure that had graced magazine covers and ad campaigns. It was a far cry from the painfully average, unremarkable girl who once got laughed off the cheerleading squad when someone found out she’d stuffed her bra water balloons. Those same people who once laughed later gasped when they watched her leave her hometown, become a professional model, and start her own advertising company.

To date, she had a nine-figure net worth. She’d been romantically linked to celebrities, influential politicians, and even royalty. Her penthouse was over five times larger than the two-room shack she’d grown up in with her mother. Most nights, it was the sight of luxurious lounging or decadent parties.

Tonight was different. On this night, Halloween, she’d canceled every engagement, personal or otherwise. She’d locked her doors, blacked out her windows, and informed her security detail to not bother her for the next 24 hours. She had an eventful night ahead of her.

“You know the drill, my dear,” said Sephiron, his voice echoing throughout her spacious bathroom. “Lose the towel. You won’t be needing it or any other attire for the rest of the night.”

“I wasn’t planning on wearing anything to begin with,” she replied with a laugh.

With little hesitation, she let her towel drop to the floor, exposing her naked body to the mirror. Even though she only saw her reflection, she could sense Sephiron’s eyes on her. From her ample breasts, curvy hips, and flawless skin, her body had been admired by many. However, only Sephiron could admire just how far she’d come.

It was no secret to anyone who’d known her. Delilah went from being an unattractive nobody to a stunning, successful women with a reputation for dominating everyone in a room. She could wear a cheap dress to a wedding and still be more attractive than the bride. She had the looks, skills, and personality that could entice anyone in an instant. From attractive men who wanted to sleep with her to shallow women who wanted to be like her, she dominated them all.

None of those feats would’ve been possible without Sephiron. He – and this particular demon was, indeed, a man – used forces beyond nature to change her fortunes. In terms of looks, she became a “late bloomer” to the greatest extent possible. People went from ignoring her to being hopelessly drawn to her. Delilah eagerly took advantage of those looks and the attention it got her.

She seduced, indulged, schemed, and manipulated her way to success. Sephiron gave her the tools. She used them to the utmost. However, as was often the case, they came at a price. It just so happened that she paid that price every Halloween.

“Come, Delilah. Join me in the bedroom,” said Sephiron.

“I’m coming, my darling,” said Delilah, already getting aroused by that deep, demonic voice.

Leaving the towel, her clothes, and her usual domineering poise behind, the attractive woman who once only dreamed of such an opulent lifestyle exited her private bathroom. Upon entering the master bedroom, she saw an imposing, inhuman figure lying on her bed. For some, he was the stuff of nightmares. For a select few, he was the source of many sexy dreams.

“Sephiron,” Delilah said, her words echoing with lustful awe, “it’s been a long, agonizing wait.”

“Speak for yourself, my lovely host,” the figure said. “Some run from, resist, or resent this part of their deal with a demon. But you’re different.”

“That’s because I don’t just accept it. I embrace it.”

Without fear, dread, or trepidation, she made her way to the bed. Every step brought the demonic features of the figure into view. His appearance, his presence, and his gaze would’ve terrified a lesser soul. It only emboldened hers.

Sephiron’s features was fairly typical for a demon, according to him. He had dark red skin, matching red eyes, pearly white teeth, and jet-black hair. His physique was also distinctly masculine, bearing a tall, toned, well-muscled body that looked like it had been chiseled from stone. While he didn’t have a tail, like the devil creatures of lore, he did have horn-like structures on his forehead. However, that was far from his most notable feature.

“I can see you’re already in the Halloween spirit,” Delilah said, her gaze narrowing on his lower body.

“Demons are always excited this time of year,” he said with a devious grin. “Some are just more overt about it than others.”

“Overt, indeed,” she said.

It was another aspect of demon physiology that rarely made it into morality fables for children. Demon like Sephiron were exceptionally endowed. They had long, thick penises that functioned on a level that wannabe studs could only dream of. They knew how to use them too. Delilah knew that better than most.

Demons were creatures born of and driven by fleshly desires. They were hedonism incarnate. They could leave a moral soul overwhelmed or astonished, depending on the nature of their dealings. That nature had complexities that rarely found their way into common notions about demons. Delilah understood them better than most. Sephiron knew that. He even seemed to appreciate it.

“Come,” he said, extending his hand, “join me on this bed.”

“I graciously accept your invitation, my lord,” Delilah replied.

It was a critical formality for human/demon dealings. Upon arriving at her bed, she accepted Sephiron’s open offer. She took his hand and got into bed with him. His touch was hot. His presence was so powerful. The creature exercised that leverage fully, wrapping her in his powerful arms and greedily groping her naked flesh.

“Mmm…mortal, female flesh,” Sephiron said, his every word seething with lust. “It’s every demon’s favorite treat.”

“I am your host. I give it to you willingly, my lord,” said Delilah without fear or hesitation.

“Spoken like a true whore…an honest, genuine, self-aware whore.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Trust me, my darling host. It’s not. Even the noblest angels in Heaven would agree!”

The creature laughed before tightening his hold on her, drawing her into the center of the bed and raking his demonic figures over her body. He also began tasting her flesh, kissing down her neck and nibbling around her naked skin. His touch sent hot shivers coursing through her body, triggering an arousal like no other.

“Oh my Lord…my dark, demonic Lord,” she gasped. “Take me!”

Her vocal proclamation helped unleash more ravenous lust from the creature. He laid her down on the bed, hovered over her with his domineering form, and attacked her voluptuous body with his hands and lips. Delilah offered no resistance. She just laid there in total submission, a far cry from the domineering personality she usually exercised in intimate moments.

“Yes, my Lord. I submit. I freely…openly…submit to you,” she said, moaning in delight at Sephiron’s hungry touch.

He stepped up his efforts, squeezing her breasts and biting around her neck. More hot sensations followed, sending her deeper into a state of pure lust. Beyond making her extremely horny, her words affirmed the most important component of any deal.

Like all demonic creatures, Sephiron couldn’t force a host to submit to him. It had to be given willingly. He and his kind called it the Great Exchange. It was meant to ensure balance between the world of mortal humans and that of supernatural beings. Forcing it caused disruptions on both ends, regardless of how noble or selfish the deal might have been.

Delilah’s deal was simple, compared to most. Sephiron helped her get what she wanted. He made her aware of the price she had to pay and the associated consequences. She willingly agreed to all of it. Halloween, fittingly enough, was the night the Great Exchange was once again balanced.

After doing plenty to make her wet and horny, Sephiron abruptly ceased his foreplay. He continued hovering over her, the dim lighting of candles and shaded lamps casting him in an unholy aura. She remained flat on her back, looking up at him in a mix of awe and desire.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you, as any responsible demon should,” he said while hungrily caressing her face.

“I’m sure you have,” said Delilah.

“You’ve been as deviant as ever,” he told her. “You’ve been exceedingly ruthless in the board room, cutting deals and crushing competition. You made a few enemies, but you also added another 20 million dollars to your personal fortune.”

“More like 22.6 million, but close enough,” she quipped.

“You’ve even more deviant in the bedroom,” Sephiron continued while fondling her breast. “You broke up with that athlete who wanted to marry you. You slept with the nephew of a rival consulting firm, who happened to be engaged. You took part in a three-way involving a former business partner and his wife. You even organized a sex party in a hotel at your last convention…one that included strippers, drugs, and enough debauchery to make a demon blush.”

“You forgot the best part. It took place on the same floor that lawyers from a rival company were staying at. We made sure they didn’t get a wink of sleep and woke up fuming with envy!”

Sephiron laughed, his demonic voice making the walls and blacked out windows tremble. Now leering over her with one hand on her breast and the other on her face, he gazed upon her with a unique kind of admiration…one most wouldn’t expect of a demon.

“You’re such a naughty woman,” he said.

“That, I am,” she affirmed.

“Naughty, but not bad…cunning, but not cut-throat…selfish, but not cruel.”

“You say that like it makes you horny…really, really horny,” said Delilah in a seductive tone.

“Oh, you know how much it turns me on. You know damn well how much demons and angels alike treasure such balance. You know what you want. You know what you’re willing to sacrifice to get it. Tonight, the night of All Hallows’ Eve, I take what you willingly give. I do my part to maintain the balance, as you have done yours.”

As he said those ominous words, the large hunk of man-flesh hanging between his legs became hard and erect. It did so with an efficiency that defied all traditional notions of male biology. Even the most endowed of men would’ve been envious while any woman with a healthy sex drive would’ve gasped at the prospect of having such a penis inside her.

Delilah licked her lips in anticipation, her inner thighs already hot with arousal. She’d gone an entire year, not knowing that demonic endowment. No matter how much debauchery she engaged in or how many men she slept with, none came close to captivating her lurid desires as much as this imposing demon. It was part of the price she’d paid for everything she’d gained and one that helped make Halloween her favorite holiday.

“Now, my sweet, decadent host. I shall ravage you in the name of the Great Exchange!” Sephiron proclaimed.

With that booming voice, echoing with burning lust and divine authority, Sephiron grabbed her legs and pushed them apart. Then, his every breath seething with fleshly hunger, he laid on top of her, aligning his throbbing demon dick with her pussy in the process. Finally, he thrust his hips forward, driving his manly flesh into her. The exchange had officially begun.

“Oohhh yes!” the decadent woman cried out. “Ravage me, my wonderful host! Ravage me!”

The air grew hot.

The lights flickered.

The room shook.

It was really happening. A powerful, lust-filled demon was having sex with her on Halloween. He was not gentle or tender with his lusts, either. Demons weren’t known for loving sentiments during sex. They fucked their hosts and they fucked them hard.

Sephiron fucked harder than most, or so he claimed. He held her legs further apart, pushing the limits of her feminine flexibility. He was so forceful with every movement, pumping his large cock within the throbbing folds of her womanhood. It filled her to the utmost, snaking and slithering within her depths, stimulating parts of her body that no man could. Intense surges of hot sensations coursed through her body. They were so intense that Delilah writhed erratically under the demon’s leer, clutching the sheets of bed as she took in every sensation.

The only way to process it was to submit complete to this powerful creature. Compared to how Delilah usually approached sex, it was an utter role reversal. Most men, even those exceptionally confident and endowed, could rarely resist her seductive charms. It was part of the exchange she’d received from Sephiron. In addition to great beauty and material success, she could entice any desired lover. While that made for abundant lovers and ample sex, she always ended up having to play the dominant role.

With Sephiron, she was the one dominated. Mortal men might not have been able to resist her beauty, but a demon had no such vulnerabilities. In Sephiron’s presence, she became a slave to her decadent desires, drunk on lust and unable to resist. It was such an unfamiliar predicament, but that was part of what made it so exhilarating.

“Yes! Yesss!” Sephiron hissed. “Take it, my beautiful host! Take it!”

The beautiful, powerful woman could only moan submissively under the creatures ravenous fucking. She descended deeper into a state of maddened lust. As Sephiron humped harder, he leaned in and tasted her naked flesh, drawing her into hungry kisses that further affirmed his dominance over her.

To those unprepared for such a feeling, it might have been terrifying. It certainly had been the first time she experienced such an exchange. Being ravaged by a demon often blurred the line between pain and pleasure, but the result was always the same. The sex was truly – and ironically – divine in terms of its impact.

“Ooh fucking hell!” Delilah exclaimed. “I’m coming! I’m already…coming…ahhhh!”

“That’s it, my host. Embrace it!” Sephiron seethed. “Embrace the unholy pleasure!”

Her mind, body, and spirit entered a special domain as her climax drew near. It happened faster than most women thought possible. Then again, most women didn’t know the sexual prowess of a demon like Sephiron.

He sensed it coming too. His grin widened and his eyes flashed bright red. He worked his hips harder, causing the whole bed to rock as he penetrated deep. When it hit, it was akin to being possessed by a powerful force, one born of raw pleasure and primal desire.

“Ohhhhhh hell yes!” she cried out.

Her eyes rolled back.

Her back arched and her toes curled.

Her inner muscles throbbed and contorted as waves of ecstasy washed over her.

It didn’t just leave her in a state of ecstasy. It effectively completed Sephiron’s dominance on her. It reminded her that, as part of their exchange, she could only experience such pleasure through him. Doing so meant complete submission for one night after domination on every other day of the year. Even after Sephiron released his hold on her thighs, she remained in that submissive state.

“You feel that? That’s what you can never feel,” he said right into her ear. “Only through me…through the Great Exchange…can you know the ecstasy of pure submission.”

Delilah replied only with a slurred gasp. She was so dazed by her release that she could hardly move, act, or think straight. It was a feeling she could never achieve with other lovers, no matter how much she indulged. It was part of the price she’d paid for all the benefits she’d enjoyed, but she wasn’t done paying it yet.

As the creature’s lurid words echoed within her mind, he resumed the hard fucking. He didn’t have to hold her legs apart, this time. He just hitched them over his shoulders, grabbed her by the wrists, and pinned her arms up over her head. Then, his eyes still glowing bright red, he locked his gaze with hers and made a hard push for another form of ecstasy.

“Accept your submission…as I fill you with my demon seed!” he proclaimed.

Harder and faster, Sephiron pumped his dick inside her still-throbbing pussy. She could feel it slithering and probing her, as though it had a mind of its own. She knew what was coming. She could only do so much to brace herself. Once again, she submitted to the feeling that followed.

“By the hottest hellfire…yesssss!” Sephiron exclaimed.

His demonic muscles tensed and he delivered one last thrust, filling her depths to the utmost. Then, he released into her a load of demon-laced cum. It filled her insides with a force that she felt in the depths of her soul, putting her in a state that defied words and feelings.

She’d been warned about it, even before she agreed to the deal. When a mortal woman fucked a male demon, there were fluids involved. Sephiron told her outright that while demons couldn’t impregnant mortal women, contrary to popular lore, it often had intoxicating effects. He described it as a drug that no earthly substance could hope to match. It didn’t just incur more pleasure. It put women like her into a unique state that blurred the lines between the real world and the spiritual world.

Upon feeling that substance inside her womb, Delilah’s head started spinning and her perceptions became skewed. All around her, the scenery of her upscale condominium disappeared. In its place, walls of hellfire and hellish landscapes appeared before her. The only relic of her world that remained was the bed. It was like Sephiron had just taken her to Hell so he could continue ravaging her in his own domain.

“Oh hell…” Delilah moaned through her dazed state.

“Indeed, my host. Indeed,” he said to her.

She barely had time to recover before the hulking creature kissed her, forcing his snake-like tongue into her mouth. It didn’t just silence her from further musings. It reminded her that the exchange was far from over.

Unlike most men, even those with exceptional stamina, demons didn’t stop at shooting a single load. They didn’t have a refractory period either. Their dicks stayed hard for as long as they desired and demons were known for having immense desires. Without such limits, Sephiron could fuck her as much as necessary to achieve the proper balance. Given all the benefit he’d given her, there was plenty to balance out.

“Not everyone can handle it. Even fewer can embrace it,” Sephiron told her, briefly ceasing the kissing so she could get some much-needed air. “That’s what make you special Delilah Davidson. That’s also what makes our deal more productive than most!”

Again, she couldn’t respond with words in such a deep daze. However, she still offered him a lurid smile the likes of which only a demon could appreciate. He responded with a grin of his own, the prospect of maintaining the balance seeming less laborious than it should’ve been.

From that moment forward, little more was said. Actions of a very decadent kind did all the talking. Now both intoxicated and still overwhelmed by desire, Delilah submitted herself to more demon-fueled ravaging. It was part of the exchange and Sephiron was always motivated to re-establish that balance.

Armed with that dominance, alongside her submission, the divine sex resumed. Sephiron lifted her up in his arms, turned her over, and laid her flat on her stomach before re-entering her from behind. While pressing her face against the bed while she still clung to the sheets, he humped her with the same vigor as before. When she came again, her orgasmic cries were muffled by the sheets. From that point forward, her world became a steady succession of ravenous sex and intense orgasms.

Sephiron took full advantage of her dazed state, fucking her in multiple positions at multiple angles. Her did her doggy style while pulling her hair and biting around her ear. He laid her on her side and did her at an angle that once again pushed the limits of her flexibility. He even held her up in his arms and bounced her up and down his hulking cock, holding her chin and making her look in his glowing eyes as she climaxed again.

“Again! Come again, my lovely host!” Sephiron said, as if to will her orgasms into existence.

She responded with more orgasmic cries, which prompted more heated ravaging. He didn’t let up. He was a demon. His lust could not be sated like a typical man.

That meant he didn’t just restrict himself to fucking her pussy. At one point, he tested her oral sex skills, pushing her head between his legs and shoving his cock into her mouth. He tested her ability to deep-throat a big cock, straining her jaw muscles and making her ingest his demon cum, which further intensified the drug-like effects.

While still gagging from her oral skills, he turned her on her side and entered her anally. That triggered a fresh round of sensations that blurred the line between pleasure and pain. At that point, Delilah was completely lost in this hellish domain of heavenly bliss.

“Oohhh yes!” she cried out, as if to let Heaven and Hell know what she wanted.

Before long, sexual fluids from her and her demon lover were seeping from every orifice. Sephiron made it a point to leave no inch of her naked skin untouched, untasted, or unstimulated. His stamina, flexibility, and sheer capability ensured he do it in ways that no man could hope to match.

To those who didn’t take the Great Exchange seriously, it might have been torture. For her, a woman who freely chose this deal, accepting the costs and responsibilities with it, the experience was something else entirely. Just as Sephiron took great satisfaction in maintaining the balance, she took just as much satisfaction in sharing it with him.

“The balance…is once again restored,” he whispered into her ear after yet another orgasm.

In her dazed, intoxicated state, it was difficult to surmise how long Sephiron ravaged her or how many orgasms they’d experienced. Being covered in sweat and various sexual fluids indicated it had been quite a while.

It only ended when Sephiron ceased his humping, cupped her face again, and kissed her one last time in a way not driven by lust or hunger. At that same moment, his eyes shifted from bright red to light blue, as if to signal that some sort of threshold had finally been met.

“Delilah Davidson, my host,” he said to her, “our exchange is once again complete.”

“Mmm…complete indeed,” she said with a satisfied grin.

“I’m also inclined to remind you of the price you’ve paid,” he told her. “By giving yourself to me once a year, you ensure that you can never be satisfied by a mortal lover. You can love, lust, and connect. But only through me…a demon, not of this world…can you be satisfied.”

After what Sephiron had just done to her, Delilah didn’t need convincing that demon sex was hotter than anything she could get from men or women. However, it was also part of the price she paid to get what she wanted.

She could indulge in her success, using her beauty and dominance to get all the sex, comforts, and luxuries she wanted. They might make her feel good. They might even make her feel fulfilled to some extent. However, they could never satisfy her. Only Sephiron could do that and she could only enjoy that feeling once a year on Halloween.

It was not an easy price to pay. At times, it was frustrating. Despite those issues, Delilah had no regrets. Most who made deals with demons and respected the Great Exchange felt that too. She liked to think she respected it more than most.

“I gladly pay that price…my dear host,” she said to him. “Thank you…for making doing your part.”

“And I shall continue to do so, for as long as the balance is kept,” Sephiron replied.

In a gesture that seemed unbefitting of a demon, Sephiron smiled affectionately. With the exchange complete, he withdrew his member from her. More fluids spilled out from her inner thighs, but she didn’t mind. Chances were she’d be sore tomorrow. She didn’t mind that, either. She made that clear to Sephiron, smiling back and kissing his forehead, as if to thank him for his reminder.

The intoxicating effects from his demon cum quickly wore off. The flaming hellscape that had manifested around them faded. She found herself back in the master bedroom of her condo, as though she’d never left. Sephiron told her that the effects of demon fluids were intense, but they rarely lasted. That was probably for the best. Something that intense had to be limited in order to maintain that precious balance.

The experience complete, the imposing creature laid her naked, disheveled body down on the bed. Her hair was a mess. There were scratch and bite-marks all over her body. The same woman that dominated her way to wealth, success, and indulgence looked like she’d been ravaged. Such a sight seemed to satisfy Sephiron almost as much as the sex they’d just had.

As she lay on the bed, he levitated above her, his body starting to fade in a reddish mist. Even in her drained state, she kept smiling as she looked up at her demon lover. She got what she wanted from him. He got what he wanted from her. They both got what they wanted with their arrangement. From Heaven to Hell, through angels and demons, it was a truly fitting exchange.

“Another year has come and gone. You continue to uphold the balance,” Sephiron said as he faded before her eyes. “I hope you understand how special that makes you.”

“I can’t claim…to understand,” said Delilah. “All I know is…you keep reminding me.”

 

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Stay With You” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story mixed in with some heavy dramatic elements. It’s a sad fact of life and romance. Sometimes, things get rough. You seek comfort with someone, even if it means breaking a few rules to get it. Please note that this story is a bit more intense than some of the others I’ve written, but I wanted to mix it up a bit. I hope it’s still enjoyable.

“This is all your fault, Jason!”

“Of course, you’d say that! How could it not be? Please, tell me in your stupefying wisdom how it’s my fault we’re getting sued!”

“It’s your goddamn name on the summons! What, did you forget how to fucking read?”

“And it’s your goddamn name on the police report, Lana! Which do you think the lawyers will care about?”

“I was protecting my oldest daughter. What was I supposed to do?”

“You had a kitchen knife and a baseball bat with you! You were the one who picked that fight. You’re the one at fault!”

The shouting, bickering, and anger echoed through wall of what used to be a peaceful suburban home. Tanya Griswold could hear it, even in the basement where she’d moved her bedroom two years ago. She’d thought the extra space would provide a badly-needed buffer between her and her parents. Unfortunately, she underestimated how loud they could be.

Lying on her bed, curled up in a fetal position while holding a pillow to her head, Tanya tried to shut it out. That was easier said than done. Her parents had a knack for making their voices heard, but for all the wrong reasons. When they got into arguments, they did not hold anything back. They often skipped the part where tensions escalated slowly and let everything erupt into a rage-filled shouting match. In fact, shouting might as well have been second nature to them.

Tanya should’ve been numb to it by now. She’d heard her parents fight all her life. She and her older sisters, Maggie and Patricia, grew used to it to some extent. Her parents were stubborn, combative people, by nature. Most everyone in the neighborhood knew that. It was only in the past several years that things got bad to a point that tore at her heart.

“That asshole husband of hers was going to hurt her. It was self-defense!” her mother shouted as the argument continued.

“They were hurting each other. We both saw the bruises. You made it worse by getting involved!” her father shouted back.

“Is that the story you’re buying into? You really don’t believe your own daughter?”

“I’m a lawyer. I believe what witnesses and the official police reports say. Trust me, this is not a case of self-defense!”

Tanya squeezed the pillow against her head harder, closing her eyes and trying to shut it out. It was no use. The argument continued and showed no signs of abating.

It was enough to make her regret being the youngest of three girls. Even as a senior in high school, she’d been counting down the days, hours, and minutes to when she could graduate and move out of the house. That way, her parents could yell at each other all they wanted. At the moment, it felt like a distant pipe dream.

“Four months, two weeks, and five days,” Tanya said to herself. “Just hold out for another four months, two weeks, and five days.”

She repeated that mantra again and again, if only to drown out the shouting. Her parents never needed much reason to raise their voice, but they’d had more than usual, thanks to her older sisters. They’d both gotten married fairly young. Maggie even managed to get pregnant in college, forcing an impromptu wedding that nobody had been ready for.

Whether by bad luck or poor choices, both her sisters had married men they never should’ve married. Tanya’s Uncle Maxwell once joked that they’d fallen in love with great boys, but married lousy men. In hindsight, it was no joke. Tanya had seen first-hand how her sisters dated certain boys in their youth, but chose to marry certain types of men once they got older. It was like they’d experienced real love that fulfilled them emotionally, but preferred a rigid partnership that benefited them socially and financially.

It was so shallow, even by the standards of their affluent community. The men her sisters married were successful and well-connected, but had next to no chemistry with them. Anyone with functioning eyes and ears could see that. That was why it didn’t surprise her in the slightest when both marriages faced trouble. Patricia had already gone through a messy divorce that ripped holes through the family, but Maggie’s promised to be worse, especially after her mother paid her soon-to-be ex a visit.

Tanya still didn’t know all the details. She didn’t even want to know the details. Her father, being the skilled lawyer he was, had been throwing the details in her mother’s face ever since it happened. It was so bad that she purposefully stayed late at school, hoping it would abate by the time she got home. She ended up being wrong. It was so bad they barely noticed when she came home soaked from the rain after a storm rolled in.

“I’m fine. School’s going great, by the way. I’m so excited to go to college out-of-state,” Tanya had said while her parents were arguing in the living room. “By the way, aliens invaded this afternoon and unleashed a swarm of killer robots. We all have three hours to live.”

They hadn’t heard her. They didn’t even react. Her parents just waved to acknowledge her presence before they continued fighting. She doubted they heard her storm downstairs to her room and slam the door shut.

“I’m starting to wish those killer robots were real,” Tanya muttered to herself. “I’d rather face them than an entire night of this shit.”

She pressed her face harder into her pillow, but it was no use. She could still hear the shouting, the arguing, and the profanity. She even heard some dishes breaking and chairs being knocked over. It was enough to make the floor shutter.

It was too much. She had to get away.

“Fuck this!” she cried angrily. “I can’t stay here tonight!”

With tears in her eyes and anguish in her heart, she stormed out of her bedroom, not even bothering to grab her purse or phone. She hadn’t even changed out of the wet clothes she’d worn to school. Anything that didn’t involve getting out of the house would’ve taken too much time and the arguing was just getting worse.

“MAYBE IF YOU HADN’T ACTED LIKE A PSYCHOTIC BITCH, WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS MESS!”

“DON’T CALL ME A BITCH YOU VINDICTIVE ASSHOLE! I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T SIDE WITH YOUR DAUGHTER ON THIS, I’LL…”

That was as much as Tanya heard before slipping out the basement door that led into the back yard, just under the deck. She didn’t want to hear another word at that point. Even as she stepped out into the pouring rain, she could still hear her parents angrily storming about the living room. If she wanted to get away, she’d have to run farther.

“Fine! If that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll run through the fucking rain!”

Not caring at all about the rain, the cold, and the wind, Tanya sprinted out into the storm. She didn’t care which direction she ran at first, focusing only on getting through the door in the fence and into the cul-de-sac behind the house. That involved trekking through mud, leaves, and rain that just kept falling harder. She didn’t care, though. All that mattered was getting away from the arguing.

“This is what I have to go through…what I have to endure, just to get away from the fighting,” Tanya cried as she ran down the street. “It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair!”

She kept running as fast as her legs would take her. By then, she was soaked from head to toe, her shirt, jeans, and shoes a mess of water and mud. Cold winds swept through the streets, causing the rain to hit her face like dozens of needles. It stung, but did little to slow her down. Tanya didn’t care if she had to run through a hurricane. If that was what she had to endure to get away from the chaos, then so be it.

“Keep going. Don’t stop,” Tanya told herself. “Find somewhere…anywhere.”

She pushed through strain and fatigue, enduring more gusts of wind and rain. Near as she could tell, she’d run several blocks to the south end of her neighborhood. Another block to the north and she’d hit the parkway, which was always treacherous in stormy weather. She knew in the back of her mind there was only so far she could run before her body gave out. Thankfully, there was one option that she hadn’t forgotten.

“I didn’t want to put you through this, Nick…bringing my family drama into your life,” she said to herself. “We just started dating. I’ve been giving you my best self. Now, you’ll have to…”

Before she could finish her thought, a round of thunder erupted from the sky. More lightning followed as the winds picked up. It was like Mother Nature herself telling her that she was out of options. If she wanted any kind of sanctuary from her family’s fighting, she could only get it from her boyfriend.

Having little time or energy to remember why it was a bad idea, Tanya made the fateful choice and changed direction. Now running to the west side of the neighborhood where Nick lived, she prayed with what little faith she had that she wasn’t making a mistake.

Nicholas Cyrus Rhodes was the latest of Tanya’s string of short-lived romances. Since her freshman year, she’d been with a handful of boys. Some were more serious than others, but only to a point. Having seen how bad relationships could get, she often cut things off at the slightest hint of trouble. Her friends once described her approach to relationships as only ever wanting the first date and the honeymoon with nothing in between. It was distressingly accurate.

Nick was the first boy she tried to pursue seriously. They’d been dating since Halloween, having met at neighborhood barbecue. He was sweet, understanding, and attractive, thanks largely to his role on the school track team. He also wasn’t afraid to disagree or argue, but he never raised his voice like her parents did. His entire family was similar, opting to listen rather than yell. It might as well have been alien to her.

However, she needed something like that. She needed it more than she needed to get out of the cold. As Nick’s house came into view, she tapped what remained of her strength and sprinted the rest of the way.

“Please be home! Please be home! Please, Nick, be home tonight!” Tanya found herself repeating.

Nearing the house, she saw that the lights were on, but his parents’ car wasn’t in the driveway. For all she knew, they’d gone out to dinner to have a nice, family meal that didn’t involve anyone yelling at each other. She wouldn’t have blamed Nick for a second if that were the case.

However, the lights being on meant someone had to be home. Knowing Nick, he was either in the basement watching TV or in the garage working out. Since the garage was closed, Tanya opted to try the basement. That meant hopping another fence, wading through a patch of mud along the side of the house, and hoping the neighbors didn’t call the cops on her.

“Please…if there’s any glimmer of hope in this god-awful night…let it be this. Let it be with Nick,” she said upon stepping through the mud.

Already gasping for air and fighting heavy fatigue, she made her way through the back yard and up to the sliding door entrance. She could see light emanating from the curtains. She also noticed the flicker of a TV. Someone was home. Hoping it was Nick, she frantically knocked on the glass.

“Nick! Nick, are you there? It’s me!” she said over the rain and thunder.

Having finally stopped running, her body nearly gave out. Her legs burned. Her face was numb from the cold. She was already shivering steadily, having to hug her shoulders just to maintain what little body heat she had left. The storm showed little sign of letting up. If Nick didn’t answer, then she could just succumb to hypothermia, for all she cared.

Then, just as Tanya dared contemplate that morbid thought, the door to the basement opened and very surprised Nick Rhodes stood before her.

“Tanya!” he gasped. “My God, what happened?”

“Nick…”

That was all she got out. Like a reflex, she threw her arms around her and embraced him as though he were the edge of a cliff. She was cold, soaked, and half-crazy from her family’s drama. Nick would’ve been totally justified in shoving her away, but he didn’t. He just embraced her back.

It was the first dose of warmth and comfort she’d felt all day. She could barely support herself, physically or emotionally, but a boy who she’d just started dating was there to help her. If her spirit weren’t so wounded, she would’ve called that a miracle.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he told her in that calm, caring tone of his. “Come inside. Get out of the storm.”

He didn’t mention the mud she had on her shoes and pants. He didn’t point out that she’d gotten his sweat-shirt and jeans all wet. He just welcomed her into his house. That said a lot about the kind of man Nick was.

Him leading her inside with his arm around his shoulder was like an angel carrying her out of the darkness and into a welcoming warmth. Tanya kept shivering, but felt some strength return to her. She’d been in Nick’s basement before. It used to be his older brother’s man cave, so to speak, but Nick turned it into his cozy little refuge after her moved out. After what she’d left behind, it was just the haven she needed.

“Here, sit down,” said Nick as he guided her to the couch on the far side of the room. “I’ll get you some towels and a blanket.”

“Thank you,” Tanya said, hesitating to break their embrace.

“You need me to call my folks?” he offered. “They’re stuck working overtime at the hospital, but if I call my dad’s cell, I’m sure he can…”

“No!” she said quickly. “I…I don’t need a doctor. I just need…God, I don’t know what I need. But I want to be here right now…with you.”

She continued clinging to him, dirtying his clothes even more. Still, he did not push her away. He continued holding her, his warmth directly countering the cold anguish that had driven her out into the storm.

She could tell his first instinct was to call his parents. Unlike her family, their first instinct was to help one another rather than yell at one another. It was another strange concept to her that shouldn’t have been that way. Nick still didn’t hold it against her. He just cast her an understanding smile and nodded.

“Okay,” he told her. “If they show up, I’ll just tell them I needed your help with a history project.”

“And they’ll buy that?” Tanya said with a humored scoff.

“They know I’m a terrible liar,” Nick replied, “but they also know I only lie for the right reasons. I’d say this qualifies.”

Despite her wet clothes and steady shivering, she laughed. That was another thing about Nick she’d come to appreciate. Even when a situation was heavy, he found a way to balance it out. He didn’t ignore it or overreact. He stayed calm, collected, and measured. It was so different compared to everyone else in her family. It might have been Nick’s most attractive quality.

It helped settle her enough to finally break the embrace. Then, just as he’d promised, he slipped into the adjacent laundry room and retrieved some towels and blankets. He also turned off the movie he’d been watching, filling the basement with a welcomed calm.

“Peace and quiet…finally,” she said under her breath.

It was exactly what she needed, more so than the towels that Nick wrapped around her. That feeling of being in a quiet, peaceful house absent of hostility and yelling was nothing short of therapeutic. It was like a reminder that the way her parents confronted issues was not normal, nor was it the best way to deal with them. For once, her ears didn’t ring with the echoes of her parents’ shouting. It created a strange serenity that felt every bit as comforting as Nick’s embrace.

Nick, for his part, did nothing to disrupt it. As soon as she wrapped herself in a bath towel, he sat down next to her and slipped his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to share his body heat and rest her head on his shoulder. He didn’t ask why she’d randomly showed up, nor did he make a big deal about barging in on him in a heap of distressed. He was just there for her.

They must have sat in silence for a good twenty minutes, giving her a chance to warm up and catch her breath. At some point, Tanya kicked her muddy shoes and socks off so she could warm her feet up, as well. Nick even helped, using one of the blankets to help dry them. He was doing everything possible to make her feel loved and welcome.

At some point, she had to give him an explanation. However, that meant venturing into uncharted territory in terms of relationships. Her rule about never sharing her family drama with others had to give. For comforting her in her darkest hour, Nick deserved as such.

“I can’t keep avoiding it, Nick,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “All the fighting, the yelling, the anger over everyone else’s mistakes…it’s like my entire family won’t stop until everyone’s voice gives out.”

“I’m…sorry you have to deal with that,” Nick replied. “You know, you don’t have to talk about these things if you don’t want to.”

“No, I should talk about them. I’ve been avoiding that too. Every friend I’ve had…every boy I’ve dated…I always try to shut out that part of my life. I don’t tell anyone how my parents’ marriage was built on anger, arguments, and shouting. I don’t tell anyone how my sisters used the same approach to deal with everything from youth soccer league to divorce court. I don’t even tell them how I’ve tried desperately to just disappear in my own house, wanting nothing more than the arguing to stop.”

“My God, Tanya.”

“I know! I’m such fucking wreck!” she cried. “I’m a pretty girl living in a nice house, but can’t deal with parents and siblings who fight over everything. Never mind it’s only gotten worse over the years. Never mind it’s tearing the family apart bit by bit…day by day…even when no one else wants to admit it.”

She almost broke down on the spot. She probably would have had Nick not been there to hold her closer, letting her lean into his warmth. Tanya ended up burying her face in his shoulder, trying and failing to hide her sobs. He still didn’t hold it against her. He just kept supporting her with that calm, caring demeanor that was the antithesis of her family melodrama.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Nick told her softly.

“I don’t know how you can say that with a straight face,” she scoffed, still hiding her sobs.

“Too late. I just did.”

“And I just told you my family is a fucking shit storm and I can’t deal with it. I doubt you signed up for that when we started dating.”

“Tanya, that’s exactly what a guy signs up for when he starts dating someone. When their lover’s life is a mess, they try to be there for them. Now, I don’t know squat about your family’s issues. It’s not even my business. But you are my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend.”

“You’re a way better boyfriend than I deserve.”

“That doesn’t matter. The fact that you came here on this cold, stormy night proves something important to me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, now more curious than upset.

“Think about it,” he said to her in a more serious tone. “You’re upset, vulnerable, and lost. Finally, you decide to stop enduring it and escape it. And the first place you come to…the first person you confide in…it’s me. You say you don’t deserve a guy like me. Hell, I’m not sure I deserve a girl willing to bear her soul like that.”

Another heavy silence fell over the room. The weight of his words hung over Tanya like an echo, one that resonated more than any amount of yelling from her parents. Still resting her head on his shoulder, she dared to contemplate the implications.

She’d tried burying her problems.

She’d tried hiding them from others, including boyfriends.

She’d tried coping with all the strain on her own.

Ultimately, it didn’t work. It tore at her soul, bit by bit, until it became too much. In that overwhelming moment that drove her out into a raging storm, she ended up running into the arms of a young man who she’d kept at arm’s length. In doing so, she didn’t just find out how much she needed someone else’s support. She also learned that Nick really cared for her. He was willing to be there for her in her most vulnerable moments.

As she looked up from his shoulder, Tanya saw more than a boyfriend. In him, there was genuine love. It wasn’t the kind of teenage puppy love she’d experienced with other boys. It was something deeper. Being in his arms, despite the wet clothes and over-the-top hysterics, she knew that feeling was real.

In sensing it, a new wave of emotions came over her. Unlike before, she didn’t avoid them. Instead, she embraced them.

“Nick?” she said, now caressing his unshaven face.

“Yes, Tanya?” he said.

“I want you to do something for me…something I know I need right now.”

“Sure,” Nick said without hesitation. “What do you want me to do?”

She paused briefly. Then, in another act that further dirtied his clothes, she got onto his lap and straddled his hips. Still caressing his face, she watched his expression shift as a different mood filled the quiet basement.

“Make love to me,” Tanya said intently.

“Really? Are…are you sure?” Nick asked with a mix of concern and intrigue.

“Believe me. I’m sure,” he said, her tone leaving no room for ambiguity. “In my family, I’ve seen love expressed in all the wrong ways for all the wrong reasons. If there’s really love between us…real love and not the kind I just ran away from…I want to feel it.”

Her voice strained, trying to put such intimate desires into words. She almost broke down again, but the intensity and strength in Nick’s eyes helped her keep it together. He already had his hands on her hips, his body already reacting to her intimate touch. Beyond the extra tightness in his pants, though, she saw something else.

They might have been teenagers with a limited understanding of love. Just processing the emotions that drove her to him were too much. However, that didn’t make the feelings emerging between them any less real. Tanya had tried running from them and managing them. For once, she was going to embrace them. She just needed Nick to embrace them with her.

“You don’t have to run this time,” Nick said to her. “I want to feel it too.”

“Assuming it’s there,” she pointed out.

“Tanya, I think we know what’s there. We just have to tap into it.”

Those were wise words from a guy who barely passed algebra class last semester. What he lacked in math skills, though, he made up for with his lips. As she straddled his waist, he wrapped his powerful arms around her and pulled her close for a kiss. Tanya eagerly accepted, ready to see where the blossoming feeling led them.

It started small, like a spark igniting a flame. While in his arms, they kissed with escalating passion, lips and tongues interacting with more energy than they had dared in all the time they’d been dating. They also began feeling each other up, hands roaming their upper bodies. At one point, she slipped her hand up his shirt to paw his chest. At another, he reached up hers and undid the clasp of her bra from behind. It showed that he was serious. He really was going to make love to her on a stormy night while her parents fought several blocks away.

“Nick,” she gasped, “I want this…need this…so much.”

Having convinced him of her desire, her boyfriend lifted her up in his arms. Their lips never parting, he laid her down on the shag carpet in front of the couch. He even managed to grab one of the blankets he’d brought for her and lay it under her. From there, he went to work removing her wet clothes.

There was something uniquely intimate about it, him stripping her of the muddied attire that the storm had done much to sully. The feeling of him taking off her wet shirt and removing her muddied jeans, leaving her in just a pair of panties, was akin to an angel removing a heavy burden. The way Nick touched her cold, clammy skin filled her with such warmth and not just the kind she felt between her legs. That warm, comforting feeling helped establish a deeper connection.

Following it in conjunction with her emerging desires, Tanya helped her boyfriend in getting out of his clothes as well. He made quick work of his pants while she pulled his sweatshirt off over his head, leaving him in just a pair of boxers. When he embraced her again, the exposed flesh of their upper bodies touched, unleashing between them a special kind of warmth.

Within that warmth, a heated make-out session followed, along with heavy foreplay. Now on her back, Tanya wrapped her arms and legs around her half-naked boyfriend, kissing and pawing his masculine sinews with desperate affection. He returned the favor, exploring her exposed upper body with those warm, loving hands in his. When they made contact with her breasts, she felt shivers of pleasure that turned the bitter cold she’d endured earlier into a passionate heat.

“So warm…so strong,” Tanya gasped in between the kissing and touching.

“Tayna…so beautiful,” Nick replied, his voice echoing with the burgeoning passion.

“Please, Nick…take me.”

The desperation in her tone meant stepping up the timetables of their intimacy. Tanya had some sexual experience. Some of those experiences included Nick. During those intimate moments, she often emphasized the foreplay more than the sex. Given how stressed out she often got, it took a while to get her into that state of intense arousal. In the moment unfolding before her, that was not the case.

She was very much aroused.

She was very much in need of her boyfriend’s love.

That need, however, went beyond a simple desire for satisfying adolescent hormones.

Nick must have sensed that because he ceased the fervent make-out session. For a moment, he just hovered over her, caressing her face and gazing at her with an intensity Tanya had never seen in a man. She’d seen plenty of boys admire her body, especially when half-naked. Nobody had ever looked at her with such intimate affection.

“I want this too, Tanya. God, I want this,” Nick said to her.

The implications of those words and the way in which he said them were profound. Tanya would’ve loved to contemplate at least part of it, but she and her lover had more pressing priorities.

After saying those words, he affectionately trailed his lips down her neck, steadily making his way over her breasts and core. As she took in the intimate sensations, he grasped the sides of her panties and removed them, exposing to him her moist womanhood. Shortly after, he removed his boxers, revealing that he’d worked up some intense arousal in the form of a fully-erect manhood.

Now fully naked, impassioned by forces more powerful than teenage hormones, they came together once more. Tanya spread her legs and welcomed him into another embrace. Nick eagerly accepted the invitation, laying on top of her and aligning his body with hers. That feeling of hard, masculine muscles pressing up against smooth feminine curves set the stage for their intimate act. It only required her lover to make that one, fateful move.

While gazing into her eyes, still bearing that distinct glint of deeper passion, Nick made that move. Lying on the floor, the rain still pouring outside with thunder echoing from the havens, he entered her.

“Ooh Nick!” Tanya cried out, her voice echoing over a booming chorus of thunder.

He was careful, like always. However, unlike the other times they’d had sex, Nick was intensely focused and it showed in the passionate sex that followed. When he began moving his body, turning intense desire into sensual rhythms, a steady flow of hot sensations followed.

The merging of their flesh was so seamless, as though his body had been uniquely forged to complement hers in every way. She felt it in the way her moist depths perfectly embraced his hardened member, stimulating nerves and evoking sensations that filled her with a wonderous kind of warmth. After running through a cold, stormy night, Tanya couldn’t imagine anything more soothing.

“Tanya…my love,” Nick said in his deepening daze.

“My love,” Tanya found herself repeating.

Those were heavy words, especially for a couple of teenagers having sex. That didn’t make them feel any less real. As Nick made love to her, skillfully thrusting his hips and working his body along hers, the extent of that feeling only grew. Rather than run from it, she embraced it with him.

Throwing her arms around his nick and hooking her arms around his waist, Tanya captured her boyfriend’s lips in another kiss. He eagerly returned the favor, not letting up the intimate rhythm of their sex in the slightest. In fact, he stepped up the pace, rocking her body with more fervor as the intimate feeling escalated.

Teenage hormones complemented the blossoming connection they’d forged, creating a perfect blend of lust and love. As their naked bodies moved together in perfect harmony, rolling around on the blanket as they kissed and touched without reservation, the line between the two disappeared.

It felt like something that had to happen.

It felt like a moment that fate or destiny had ordained.

Tanya had only known love that manifested in conflict, anger, and yelling. Now, she knew love in a different form and it felt so beautifully right.

“Nick! Oh Nick!” she moaned. “I love it! I…I love you!”

“Tanya…I love you too,” Nick said intently.

Between their words and their actions, Tanya didn’t see how love could possibly take a more powerful form. Flushed with energy and passion, they stepped up the intensity of their sex. Nick thrust into her faster while she raked her fingers down his back. Together, they rolled around on the floor atop the blanket, moments of playfulness finding their way into moments of passion.

It all built up towards a powerful culmination of sensations. However, the promise of a good orgasm was secondary, for once. What she and Nick created together had to be greater than that. Moreover, she wanted to share it with him. It was the only way to do justice to such a moment.

As part of that effort, she shifted their position. They finally stopped rolling around, their bodies settling into a new alignment. They were both upright, her legs hooked around his waist with his arms wrapped securely around hers. In such a state, she could gyrate her hips in accord with Nick’s movements. He also took full advantage of those muscular arms of his, supplementing each gyration with some added vigor.

With lightning still flashing outside, their naked bodies moved and danced together. It was strength supporting strength with passion fueling passion. The ultimate ecstasy was near. They just had to seize it.

“Close…I’m so close,” Tanya gasped as the feeling approached.

“Me too, Tanya. Just…a little bit more,” Nick said through determined grit.

“Together…let’s share it together.”

Their desires now every bit as aligned as their bodies, she and Nick made the final push. Harder and faster, their lovemaking intensified. Bit by bit, they approached that threshold, following the subtle cues of one another’s bodies to ensure they crossed it together. When they did, it was like diving off a cliff and into an ocean of ecstasy.

“Ohhh Nick!”

“Oohhh Tanya!”

In that fateful moment, no amount of thunder or heavy rain could drown out their cries. It wasn’t clear whether their climax was simultaneously, but it must have been close. Whatever the gap, Tanya embraced the feeling with her lover, sensing that profound connection she felt earlier blossom into something so much more.

Their sexual rhythm ceased. Under the weight of the sensations that followed, they clung go one another. She dug her nails into his shoulders while he grasped her hips. Her inner contracted while his manhood throbbed in accord with their blissful release, hot fluids mixing in a perfect manifestation of passion and desire. As she took in the feeling, Tanya locked eyes with her lover, matching the same intensity he’d shown her.

“Nick,” Tanya said, still breathless in her daze. “What you did for me…what we just…”

However, her ability to form words failed her. There was so much she wanted to tell him. She wanted so desperately to put the extent of what they’d done into words.

Before she could try, though, Nick just smiled and placed his finger over her lips. Still in his embrace, his expression told the story.

“It’s okay, Tanya,” he said to her in that calm, loving tone of his. “You don’t need to say it. I already know.”

That might have been the best thing he could’ve said. If Tanya had any doubts about being in love with Nicholas Rhodes, then they were long gone. When words became unnecessary and feelings became so clear, there was nothing left to doubt.

Without saying another word, she just smiled back and kissed him. That told him everything he needed to know, as well. Now exhausted, physically and emotionally, they each collapsed onto the floor together. Their bodies parting, Tanya laid down on top of him, soaking in his warmth and the intimate bond they’d just formed.

The rain kept pouring and the thunder kept roaring outside. It was loud, but peaceful. In her darkest hour, Tanya came to her boyfriend looking for shelter and comfort. He ended up giving her something far greater. It didn’t take any heated debate, either. On a stormy night full of so much commotion, Tanya and her lover proved that actions truly spoke louder than any amount of yelling.

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Taking A Chance” A Sexy Short Story

07relationship

The following is a sexy short story about trust, taking chances, and believing that people can be decent and loving, even in sexy moments. I think it’s an important message that’s worth affirming every chance we get. Enjoy!

“Never trust men. They have too many reasons to use you.”

Sharon Kena had heard that mantra from her mother all her life. It was one of the first lessons she’d taught her as a kid and she belabored it every chance she got. It didn’t matter who she met or what she did. The message was always the same.

“Avoid men at every turn. If you can’t, make sure you use them before they use you.”

She said it so often that Sharon hadn’t given it much thought in recent years. She made it through high school without dating any men and none of her current friends were men. Sharon still dealt with them, but even the slightest interaction with a man was enough to draw scrutiny from her mother. At one point, she made a scene at an airport when the flight attendant made her sit next to a middle-aged man on a trip to visit her grandmother.

As mortifying as moments like that were, Sharon understood her mother’s sentiments to some extent. She knew, as well as everyone else in her family, that she had a bad history with men. Her father ditched her when she was a baby, her uncle abused her, and every man she’d ever dated found some way to hurt her.

Sharon’s own father was probably the one that went too far. He’d been so nice to her, treating her mother better than any of the abusive assholes she’d dealt with before. He was older, but claimed to love her. It wasn’t until her mother got pregnant that she found out she was just his mistress. Her father actually had another family across the state, complete with a wife and three kids. His wife apparently let herself go and he just wanted to sleep with a woman under 150 pounds.

Her father had used her mother and essentially abandoned her, even after she was born. Sharon was perfectly fine keeping him out of her life entirely, but he’d left such a deep scar on her mother that she went out of her way to inoculate her from such men. For the most part, she succeeded.

However, there was always that gnawing curiosity in the back of Sharon’s mind. Were all men really that bad? As much as her mother belabored that point, a part of her just couldn’t leave it at that.

“So…you want to come up and see my apartment?” Sharon asked in the most seductive tone she could muster.

“Boy, you sure like to skip ahead, don’t you?” replied the surprised, but intrigued young man in her presence.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Hell yes!” he said with a cocky grin. “For a girl as pretty as you, I’ll skip all the steps you want.”

Sharon replied with a half-hearted laugh. It couldn’t have been that convincing, but Chris Chadwin didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who cared. Why would he? He was about to get laid.

As Sharon latched onto his arm and led him up to her fourth-floor apartment, she could hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head, yelling at her to throw Chris out the nearest window. She was about to do something her mother urged her to avoid at all costs. She was going to willingly have sex with a man she barely knew, didn’t care for, and wasn’t even that attracted to. It was the antithesis of everything she’d been taught, but Sharon had already made her choice.

“I’m taking a chance, for once.”

That was what she’d told herself that afternoon, less than two hours before she accepted Chris’ offer to join him for happy hour at a bar not far from where she lived. It hadn’t been the first time he flirted with her. He wasn’t even the only woman he flirted with. He was just the easiest man to hook up with and that was all Sharon needed.

He was already getting frisky. As they ascended the stairs, he slipped his arms around her waist and playfully kissed her neck. Sharon didn’t care much for neck-kissing, but she appreciated the intimate grasp. The feeling of two powerful arms wrapped around her from behind was surprisingly arousing. It shouldn’t have been, given the influence of her mother, but it was.

“It’s just down the hall,” Sharon told him after ascending the final round of stairs.

“Lead the way, beautiful,” Chris said playfully.

He must have thought he’d charmed her perfectly. He had no idea of her true intentions and she had no plans to tell him. If Chris knew his actions that night might confirm or discredit everything she thought about men, then she wouldn’t be taking a chance.

Sharon chose to hook up with Chris because he was the kind of overly-macho flirt that her mother warned her about. He was a sophomore at the nearby community college who spent his weekends cruising bars, looking for pretty girls to get with. Some of the other girls who worked at the same software company as her had shared sordid stories about their encounters with him. Some showed regret. Most just shrugged him off as an arrogant meathead.

Whatever they thought of Chris, he still had a reputation as a guy who got more women than most. Despite not being exceptionally attractive or accomplished, he somehow managed to convince plenty of women to sleep with him. He never pretended to seek anything romantic, either. He was just a horny guy who wanted to have meaningless sex with pretty girls.

That fact, alone, didn’t surprise her. It was consistent with at least some of what Sharon’s mother warned her about. What still bugged her was the bigger implications.

Did he really just want to use her the same way he’d use a tissue to blow his nose?

Was she just a pair of breasts, a nice set of legs, and a pussy to him?

Did he only care about getting off and ditching her for his next sexual conquest?

Those were just some of the questions that Sharon sought to answer. All her life, she had only her mother’s answers to go on. For once, she wanted to answer those questions for herself. It meant putting herself at risk, but for her own peace of mind, she needed to find them on her own.

“We’re here,” Sharon told him upon arriving at her apartment door.

“Finally!” Chris said, still embracing her from behind. “These pants are getting really tight.”

“I think I can help with that,” she quipped, “so long as you return the favor.”

“Oh, don’t you worry!” he said boldly. “When it comes to ladies and favors, I know how to prioritize.”

His bravado was obnoxious, but the sentiment was endearing. Sharon even managed a genuine smile, if only to give Chris incentive to honor his word.

She could already tell he was plenty motivated. With the way he rubbed up behind her, she could feel the bulge in his pants pressing up against her. He was horny, that much was clear. He wanted sex and he wasn’t afraid to be crude. Sharon was willing to tolerate that, provided he didn’t confirm too many of his mother’s warnings.

Upon entering her apartment, she didn’t waste time. Before she could second-guess her choice, she led him into her bedroom. There, she finally turned around and let every reckless whim guide her.

“Want to help me get out of these itchy clothes?” she asked him.

“Of course!” Chris said eagerly. “Isn’t that what a gentleman does?”

Ignoring, for the moment, how little he had in common with a traditional gentleman, Sharon let him strip her as they made their way to the bed. He was surprisingly courtesy in that he didn’t rip her clothes off like her mother said men would if she gave them the chance. He was almost gentle in how he slid her pants down her legs, even teasing her feet as he laid her down on the bed.

“Simple, brand-name underwear,” he commented up on seeing her in her bra and panties. “I like it!”

“You probably say that to all half-naked women,” Sharon said.

“You’d be surprised.”

He might have been right about that, but Sharon tried not to overthink the situation. She just watched as Chris shed his clothes, as well, removing everything but his boxers. He then joined her on the bed, getting on top of her gazing upon her with a lust she’d been taught her whole life to avoid.

“You ready for the main course? Or do you need some appetizers?” Chris asked, sounding like every bad porno she’d ever seen.

“It’s uh…been a while for me,” Sharon told him. “I might need a little extra care.”

“No problem!” he said confidently. “I don’t mind going the slow and steady route.”

Sharon replied with a flirtatious grin, hiding the fact that she had never let a man touch her in such an intimate way. For much of her life, the thought of letting any man put his hands on her like that was abhorrent. She had to set all that aside, if only to give Chris – and men, as a whole – a fair chance.

It wasn’t like she had avoided all sexual activity. Her mother – most likely in an effort to keep her away from men – actually bought her a vibrator when she was a teenager. She even let her watch porn, although she only tolerated lesbian porn. In her youth, that had been plenty stimulating. She’d even had a sexual relationship, of sorts, with a lesbian woman at one point.

Even though her mother had been vocal with her approval, something about it just didn’t feel complete. It was as though she’d only ever explored half of her desires, at most. At time went on, men found their way into her sexual thoughts, so much so that she couldn’t shut them out.

Chris wasn’t the first man that had evoked sexual feelings in her. He was just the most convenient way to explore those feelings. In her mind, if she could still experience pleasure with a man after everything her mother had done to demonize them, then that would go a long way towards proving her wrong.

“Just lie back and let me work my magic,” Chris said as he guided her to the center of the bed. “I think you’ll find I know my way around the female body.”

“That…would be surprising,” she said under her breath.

Despite all the factors urging her to do otherwise, Sharon went along with the horny man’s lustful request. She soon found herself lying flat on her back, resting her head on her pillow, as Chris got on top of her and went to work.

It started with a simple make-out session, his lips smothering hers with his sensual hunger. Somewhere, along the way, he removed her bra and trailed his lips down her body, paying extra attention to her breasts. He kissed her exposed flesh, again showing a surprising amount of care. He wasn’t trying to devour her as much as he was trying to savor her exposed flesh.

At first, it felt strange. Before long, though, it felt good.

“Mmm…you taste good,” Chris said, his voice muffled by her breasts.

Sharon replied with light moans, but didn’t completely succumb to the same lust. However, that quickly changed after he removed her panties and got his first taste of the tender womanly flesh between her thighs.

“Ooh!” Sharon gasped.

“Whoa!” he said. “It has been a while for you.”

He had no idea and Sharon didn’t intend to let him know. She’d presented herself as someone who regularly took guys up to her apartment and fooled around. She needed Chris to believe that in order to make all the risks worthwhile. Near as she could tell, he wasn’t overthinking the situation.

He was just touching and tasting her naked skin, as though it were a succulent treat. After tossing her panties aside, his gaze narrowed on her inner thighs. She even noticed him licking his lips in anticipation.

“That’s a nice-looking pussy you have there,” he commented. “Mind if I have a taste?”

“Please,” Sharon said, as though it were the most polite thing in the world.

With a dazed, but eager look on his face, the young man pushed her thighs apart with both hands and indulged in her womanhood. His eagerness, alone, surprised her. Sharon had been led to believe that men only liked receiving oral sex and rarely gave it. Even if Chris was an outlier, there was no denying his demeanor. He was a man and he enjoyed eating a woman’s pussy out.

That was jarring enough, but Sharon didn’t care. His efforts did exactly what she needed him to do. He was not too coordinated. He wasn’t overly-thorough, either. That didn’t matter, though. Chris showed he knew enough about female anatomy to get her juices flowing in ways that directly countered her mother’s warnings.

“Ohhh yeah!” she moaned. “That…that feels good.”

“Mmm…you almost sound surprised,” he teased, briefly looking up from her inner thighs.

He had no idea how big a deal it was for her. The idea that a man actually enjoyed something that gave a woman direct pleasure just didn’t fit with her mother’s narrative of men being selfish pigs. While her mother would’ve argued that Chris had only gone down on her to ensure he got what he wanted, Sharon couldn’t accept that something that felt so good could be that selfish.

As enjoyable as it was, she picked up on Chris’ secondary agenda. While giving her oral sex, he’d been pleasing himself as well, getting his manhood nice and hard. It was the most effective act of multitasking she’d seen in any man to date. Regardless of how her mother viewed men, Chris proved that they could stay focused when motivated.

“God, I love the taste of a hot, moist pussy,” said Chris after giving her outer folds one last lick.

“I love that you love it,” Sharon teased. “Your generosity is…appreciated.”

“Just doing what I got to do to make the next part easier for both of us!”

With a curt grin, as if to flaunt his manliness, he rose up and removed his boxers, revealing a fully-erect penis that looked ready to enter a willing vagina. Her mother once told Sharon that any penis attached to a man was inherently repulsive. Chris might not have been the most attractive or endowed man she’d ever seen, but the sight of his manly physique hovering over her did plenty to fuel her arousal.

“You ready?” he asked as he loomed over her with lustful intent.

“Are you asking me? Or telling me?” she teased.

“Only if you’re anything less than ready for some fucking!”

“Then, I guess that depends.”

“On what?” he asked intently.

“On just how good you can make it!”

It wasn’t just a flirtatious quip. Now clutching his shoulders, gazing up at him with burning desire, she dared him with her eyes to prove himself. He didn’t have to completely disprove everything her mother had ever taught her about men. He just had to demonstrate that he could give a woman quality, enjoyable sex. Chris, meathead or not, seemed up for the challenge.

“In that case, I’d say we’re both ready!” he said confidently.

“Less talking…more fucking,” Sharon said intently.

There was no turning back. At that point, she’d given Chris free reign over her naked body. He could drop the façade and use her like his personal fuck toy. He could also demonstrate that even a horny man getting what he wanted could be trusted to that extent. Sharon was about to find out.

Instinctively, she braced herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She felt it as Chris’ upper body made contact with hers, his manly sinews meshing with her feminine curves. As naked skin meshed with naked skin, he tightened his grip on her thighs, holding her legs apart as he guided his rigid manhood to her womanhood.

Then, with a thrust of his hips, he entered her.

“Ohhh yeah!” Chris moaned. “So hot and tight…you like that?”

Sharon replied with a sharp gasp. That was all she could manage. She genuinely struggled to process the feeling that had just washed over her. She’d been led to believe that any act that involved a man penetrating a woman with a body part could only be uncomfortable. While it hadn’t been disproved entirely, she already found herself questioning that assumption.

Chris didn’t wait for her to finish processing it. He had already begun moving his body, burying his face in her neck and working his dick within her tight folds. He wasn’t too rough, establishing a steady pace of sex. It didn’t completely rock her world, but it certainly rocked the bed enough to remind her that she was really doing it. She was having sex with a man, despite her mother’s efforts.

“Wow! This feels good…no, great!” Sharon proclaimed.

She sounded even more surprised than she did before. Chris didn’t seem to notice, though. He was too focused on their sex, thrusting his hips and caressing her naked body. It was so hot and intimate, his naked skin gliding against hers, masculine sinews meshing with feminine curves. It wasn’t supposed to be so intoxicating. It was just supposed to be sex, but it quickly evolved into something else.

As Chris maintained the sexual rhythm, Sharon found herself supplementing his efforts. She acted on a mix of instinct and lust, raking her fingers down his back and arching her body in just the right ways every time he drove into her. The feeling of his hard, manly flesh slithering inside her stimulated parts that she didn’t know existed. Even a vibrator could only do so much. There was just something different about an actual, throbbing penis in conjunction with a man’s body.

It felt so good that Sharon expected it to end abruptly. She’d heard plenty of jokes about how men barely make it beyond the first dozen humps before they blow their load. Chris didn’t seem that eager to rush the experience. It was easy to assume that he just wanted to show off his prowess so that he could brag to others who good he was in bed. However, it was just as likely that he wanted to draw out an inherently pleasurable feeling and Sharon was more than happy to let him.

“You…are so sexy,” Chris said into her ear, part of his face still buried in her neck.

“And you’re so…considerate,” Sharon gasped, still struggling to form words.

“Considerate? I can do better than that!”

Chris seemed to take that as a challenge. At first, Sharon worried that she’d said something wrong. For all she knew, the best parts were over and everything from that point forward would prove her mother right. Once again, she braced herself.

In another display of bravado, he rose up slightly so that he was in a more upright position. Her legs still hooked around his waist, he began humping her at a different angle. However, he threw a little something extra into his efforts. As he worked his manly flesh within her depths, he used his thumb to stimulate her clit. Either the man had just paid extra attention in health class or he genuinely cared about bringing a woman to orgasm.

“How’s that? Is that better?” he said with a cocky grin.

“Oohhh!” was all Sharon got out.

Her body reacted before her brain could process everything. She grabbed hold of the sheets, closed her eyes and panted heavily as a flood of powerful sensations shot through her. What they’d been doing before had been pleasurable, but it only took her so far on the path to ecstasy. That extra effort, stimulating her most sensitive areas with such determined care, sent her down the rest of that blissful with stunning efficacy.

At that moment, another profound realization sank in. She wasn’t just having sex with a man. She was going to achieve orgasm with one of them. If that weren’t astonishing enough, a man was going to give it to her. If there was a more effective way to shatter her old assumptions about men, she hadn’t heard of it.

“Like that! Ohhh just like that!” she gasped, increasingly short of breath. “You’re going to make me…I’m going to…ohhhh yes!”

That orgasmic chorus filled the room. There was nothing fake or exaggerated about it. She experience a real, toe-curling orgasm. Every muscle contraction and blissful sensation carried more meaning than usual, as if to directly counter every man-hating rant her mother had ever made.

“The sound of a woman coming,” Chris said, “I never get tired of that!”

He still sounded arrogant and crude, but Sharon didn’t mind. He’d just giving her an orgasm. He earned the right to brag. Logistically speaking, it made too much sense. To back up his bravado, he had to give her great sex. To give her great sex, he had to do it in a way she enjoyed. He got what he wanted. She got what she wanted. It was almost like sex was a collaborative effort.

Sharon would’ve laughed if she weren’t still processing the ecstasy. She was content to just soak in the feeling while Chris pursued his own peak. He kept the pace of their sex slow, shifting his grip to her butt and giving it a firm squeeze as their naked bodies moved together in blissful harmony. By the time he neared his peak, Sharon had completed her orgasmic journey. In doing so, she opened her eyes and watched the man before her complete his.

“Almost…there!” Chris grunted. “Just…a little…oh fuck!”

His orgasm wasn’t as theatrical as hers. After a few more targeted hips thrusts, his expression contorted and his grip on her butt intensified as he got his release. Sharon even felt it as his cock throbbed inside her in accord with his release.

Her climax directly led to his.

Her pleasure became his pleasure.

Inside her, the juices of their sex blended together, their shared ecstasy taking a tangible form.

“I feel it,” Sharon said distantly. “Inside me…so nice and hot…I really feel it.”

She doubted Chris heard him. That look on his face – the O-face that she once joked about, no less – made clear that he was in too blissful a daze to hear. That didn’t matter, though. Whether he knew it or not, he just changed everything she thought she knew about men.

When he finally opened his eyes, that post-orgasmic afterglow already setting in, she made it a point to cast him an affectionate smile. He smiled back, still looking dazed, if not somewhat goofy. That didn’t stop her from drawing him back into an embrace and giving him a kiss.

“Thank you, Chris,” she said to him intently.

“For giving you the good fucking I promised? You’re welcome!” Chris replied proudly.

He laughed as their naked bodies finally parted, exhaustion and satisfaction settling over them as the room fell silent. Sharon smiling, though. Chris might have been arrogant, crude, and immature. From his perspective, he just banged a pretty girl and did it well enough to ensure she enjoyed it. That was as meaningful as their sex had been for him.

For her, however, the meaning went beyond the sex. Chris was not some dignified gentleman. He wasn’t some thick-headed brute, either. He sought sex with a pretty girl and getting it didn’t mean using her, as her mother often warned. In fact, that would’ve made it harder to achieve the satisfaction they’d shared.

She trusted him with her body.

He rewarded that trust and she rewarded him back.

A man she barely knew, who only wanted sex, proved that she could trust a man. The end result wasn’t just great sex. It was definitive proof that her mother had been wrong.

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“My Favorite Client” A Sexy Short Story (For Memorial Day)

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The following is a sexy short story that was partially inspired by some real-life anecdotes about men coping with loss with the help of sex workers. A good portion of those stories came from men who had served in the military and in the spirit of Memorial Day, I wanted to capture the beauty of those experiences.

Whether you’re a veteran or just someone who has had to find ways to cope with loss, I hope you can appreciate this. Enjoy!

“The first Thursday of the month,” Reyna Stanly said to herself, “the best day of any month in my otherwise fucked up life.”

The young woman carried herself with more energy than usual and for good reason. It was a welcome day of contentment, especially for a professional escort. As someone who lived a life of ever-evolving risks and obstacles, she understood the value of those days better than most. After the week she’d endured, she needed one.

Having arrived at the mid-level hotel a half-hour ago, Reyna made her way up to the eighth-floor suite, as she’d done many times before. She wore the same low-cut black dress that she’d worn for the past several encounters with the special client that awaited her at the end of the hall. It wasn’t too sexy. Most people who saw it wouldn’t associate it with an escort or sex worker. Walking through the lobby, she looked like someone on her way to a dinner party at an overpriced restaurant.

Compared to what most clients asked her to wear, it was a welcome touch style. It made her feel like she was playing a role rather than providing a service. For the client that awaited her – a very special, very important client that she’d come to cherish – she took great pride in playing that role. It meant almost as much as her as it did to him.

“If only everyone in my life appreciated my dedication as much as you, Willie,” Reyna sighed as she approached the door.

As she prepared for the not-so-typical job before her, she lamented that the most decent male role model in her life was someone she’d met while escorting. It would’ve been hilarious if it weren’t true, but from where she came from, role models were hard to come by.

Her father had walked out on her mother and sister when she was six. After that, her mother went onto date a string of loser guys, eventually marrying one who could help pay off her gambling debts. It hadn’t been out of the goodness of his heart, though. That man, who she still refused to call her father, only kept her out of debt so she wouldn’t give him any crap out about cheating on her.

Her older sister followed a similar path, attracting all the wrong men before marrying the one who got her pregnant in high school, albeit after some heated coaxing. Theirs was not a stable marriage, to say the least. They fought more than they loved, cheated on each other so often that Reyna could practically set her watch to it. She escaped that environment the first chance she got.

However, her judgement hadn’t been that much better than her mother or sister. In high school, she’d played the part of the class slut, hooking up with multiple men and having a long string of empty relationships. Most of that was her way of staying away from home, but it came at the price of attracting men who cared more about easy sex than genuine intimacy. Whether by bad luck or family tradition, Reyna and her family never seemed to cross paths with the kind of men who were worth loving.

“Guess that’s more my fault than yours,” she said under her breath, lingering at the door as she checked her phone. “You were just looking to mend a broken heart. I was looking for easy money. Now, here I am…needing you as much as you need me.”

It was tragic, but oddly fitting. She’d gone most of her life knowing few good men. Then, she left home, got into a local college, and started making her own money as an escort with the goal of never having to rely on a man. Willie Mavin didn’t necessarily derail that goal, but he certainly complicated it and for all the right reasons.

As she knocked on the door, Reyna felt like needed to affirm those reasons. Having had so many poor influences on her, she had to cling to the few good ones she still had.

“Come in,” said the familiar voice from inside the room.

Smiling for the first time all week, Reyna entered the room and into her role. At that moment, she was no longer Reyna Stanly, the trashy young woman who made her living as a whore for men with no time for a mistress. She became Mandi, the affectionate young woman who reminded a lonely man of better times.

“Mandi,” said a tall, lanky, middle-aged figure sitting on the bed, “you’re as stunning as ever.”

“You’re too kind, Willie…way too kind,” she replied in a voice that blurred the lines between fantasy and reality.

Upon closing the door behind her, making sure to lock it and place the “do not disturb” tag on the handle, she set aside her purse and made her way to king size bed where her favorite client awaited her.

“I’ve missed you,” she told him, mixing the traditional script of an escort with honest sentiment. “You make the first Thursday of every month something I look forward to.”

“So do you,” said Willie as he gazed at her with that loving admiration.

“This past month has been especially tough. I need this as much as you do.”

“I believe you.”

She’d heard that from men before, pretending they could empathize with her plight. She rarely believed it, especially from clients. However, Reyna made an exception for Willie.

She also made an exception when it came to embracing a client. She didn’t just stand in front of him, posing like a model in hopes of tempting him into paying for another hour. She immediately joined him on the bed, slipping into his arms and sitting on his lap. She barely even noticed the empty envelope containing her payment on the nightstand. Willie never short-changed her or abused her trust. Very few men in her life could make such a claim.

“You seem tense, Mandi,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist and caressed her face. “Is everything alright?”

“It is now,” Reyna replied with a reassuring smile. “Try not to worry about me. I’m here for you, remember?”

“You make that difficult to forget,” Willie said as he smiled back.

“Then, I must be doing my part exceptionally well.”

“You do more than that, Mandi…much more.”

He embraced her closer, holding her as he would a cherished lover. He was so affectionate and tender, kissing her neck and taking in her scent, which she’d augmented with her best perfume. It was enough to get her heart racing as she returned his affection, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him deeper into her intimate warmth.

Reyna knew how it must have looked from an outside perspective. Anyone observing them at that moment wouldn’t have seen anything other than a tall, slender man in his late 40s with graying hair holding a young female escort in her early 20s. It had all the qualities of a typical encounter between a sex worker and an older man. She wouldn’t have blamed anyone for seeing it as anything other than some guy wanting to get frisky with a cute young woman.

However, there was much more at work than a man willing to pay for sex and a woman willing to accept money for it. Some of it showed in the clothes he wore. Like her, Willie wore the attire that evoked his fondest memories. That included a neatly-pressed dress shirt with military emblems, a clip-on tie, and navy-blue slacks that had just been dry cleaned the other day. It gave him the presence of a man who knew how to take care of himself and valued how he presented himself to others.

He’d learned that skill in the military and still carried himself like an honorable, disciplined soldier. That kind of ability and self-respect did plenty to set Willie apart, but those were just the most obvious qualities she admired. The rest ran much deeper.

“This week has been especially lonely,” Willie said after he finished kissing er. “It would’ve been our wedding anniversary on Monday. My son tried to visit so we could spend some time together, but his flight got cancelled.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Reyna said. “I hope he makes it up to you.”

“He will. He’s a good young man, just like his brother. I’m not worried about him. I’m just focused on you…on us.”

“And I intend to do nothing less.”

True to her word, a trait any competent escort valued, Reyna dove deeper into her role. Caressing his unshaven face with both hands, she kissed him with a soft, but sensual passion on the lips.

It was not the kind of kiss she shared with other clients. It was genuine and loving, akin to something a dear lover would give to someone who they’d missed. Almost immediately, it had an impact. She sensed his tension settle. The rugged, manly musk of her breath helped her settle too.

“My darling, Mandi,” Willie gasped with an intensity few men dared to show, even with an escort.

Her heart skipped a beat. She still wasn’t used to that, especially with a client. Reyna wasn’t sure she wanted to get used to it. The way Willie held her and the way he kissed her triggered something in her that she didn’t think she could feel for a man, even before she became an escort.

As the kiss deepened, those feelings intensified. Before long, a kiss was no longer sufficient.

“Willie…sweetheart,” Reyna said, now deep into her Mandi persona.

“Yes, Mandi?” he replied, already breathless.

With a coy grin and the taste of his lips still lingering, she broke the embrace and turned around so that he could see the back of her dress.

“Would you please unzip me?” she asked him. “This dress feels so…burdensome.”

“Of course, my dear,” Willie replied without hesitation.

Like a gentleman, he did as she requested, unzipping her dress with the utmost care. He wasn’t like some horny guy eager to get a girl naked. He was so careful, highlighting every inch of newly exposed flesh.

Once he reached the bottom of the dress, she stood up and let it fall off her body. In doing so, Reyna revealed she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Upon stepping out of her dress, kicking off her heels in the process, the only article of clothing she had left was a pair of black lace panties. When she turned around, giving him a perfect view of her feminine features, the awe in his eyes was profound.

“Wow,” said Willie in a daze. “You’re as beautiful as I remember…a sight I never get tired of.”

Reyna just smiled curtly as he gazed upon her, leaning back on his arms and taking in every feature. He’d seen her naked many times before, but she knew Willie wasn’t just referring to her natural beauty when he saw her voluptuous form. In his eyes, he wasn’t looking at Mandi, the escort he paid for a night of intimate company. He was looking at Mandi, his deceased wife.

“I miss you…so much,” he said with a hint of sorrow in his tone.

“Oh Willie,” she said, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That was only half-true. She knew she wasn’t Amanda, the woman he’d married right out of high school and loved with all his heart until she succumbed to cancer. He had to know that too, but it didn’t matter at that moment. As far as they were both concerned, the harsh reality of their respective lives didn’t apply within the walls of the hotel suite. For just a brief moment, they could enjoy a quiet moment of intimacy.

“You’re here,” Willie said, tears already forming in his eyes. “God, I want you.”

“I want you too, Willie,” she told him.

Her role made room for her skills as an escort. With a seductive poise that she’d refined from her promiscuous past, she slipped back onto his lap, straddling his waist and grinding her groin up against his pelvis. That got the blood flowing to the lower half of his body. It also prompted a flood of amorous affection.

“My sweet, Mandi,” he gasped. “My sweet, beautiful Mandi.”

It was tough to maintain that seductive mood when he was so loving with his gestures. Willie was always more tender than most of her clients, but there was something different about the way he touched her exposed upper body. He playfully fondled her breasts, buried his face in her neck, and traced his fingers down her waist and hips, as if to paint an image in his mind.

“Mandi…I see you,” Willie gasped as he kissed her.

“So do I,” she whispered into his ear.

The foreplay quickly intensified. As Willie felt around her exposed upper body, she began loosening his clothes, removing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. It played out like so many other encounters she’d experienced with clients, but there was deeper story unfolding between them.

Reyna had come to know the details of that story well. Since he became a regular, she’d learned a great deal about the role she played. Amanda Mavin, the woman Willie saw whenever they were together, was a very different woman than the one she’d become. She wasn’t just a loving mother and supportive wife. She’d been a gifted artist, a college professor, and an adventurous traveler.

Willie claimed she saw the world as a work of art worth admiring and exploring. She’d taken him to so many wonderful places, sharing so many passions along the way. After serving in the army, spending time in war zones and seeing so many awful things, he needed that. She helped him see and experience beauty in the world again.

When Willie first told her about Amanda, she laughed at the notion that she had anything in common with her. She doubted they even looked alike. Then, he showed her some old pictures and the resemblance was undeniable. When he told her about the kind of spirit she had and how she’d overcome a less-than-ideal upbringing, Reyna saw more and more similarities. It made the intimate experiences they shared more meaningful.

For Willie, it was a way to reconnect with the memory of a woman he loved and missed dearly. For Reyna, it started as her providing comfort and sex to a lonely widower. It soon became as therapeutic for her as it was for him. After the week she’d endured, she needed that therapy more than usual.

“Willie,” Reyna said in the midst of all the affectionate touching, “lie down on your back.”

“Of course, my darling,” he said in that deep, loving tone of his.

Having rekindled old memories and the passions connected to them, she pursued the escalating desire. After guiding him towards the center of the bed, he laid down and kicked off his dress shoes, allowing her to go to work.

She channeled more of Mandi’s spirit, removing his dress shirt, undoing his belt, and taking off his slacks. She took her time, kissing down his chest and pawing his arms. He once told her that Mandi treated lovemaking like a work of art, requiring exquisite detail and impassioned vision. Reyna never saw sex in such a colorful way, but she quickly came to appreciate that approach. Upon removing the widowers underwear, she saw how much Willie appreciated it as well

“Wow! You did miss me, Willie,” Reyna said coyly while eying his semi-erect manhood.

“What can I say? Certain parts of the human body say more than words ever well,” Willie said with a playful grin.

She smiled back at him before channeling more of that sexy spirit. She briefly hovered over him, allowing him to admire her body even more. She even dangled her breasts in his face, something he once said Amanda loved to do during intimate moments. He also once mentioned she loved it even more when she gave his penis a quick lick to prepare for their sex. With most men, Reyna would’ve assumed that was just a creative way to get oral sex. With Willie, she trusted his word.

Like a sexy angel, she lovingly kissed his lips before sensually working her way down his body. Willie kept in great shape for a man his age. All the work and travel he did with his late wife really paid off. That extended to his penis, which was already throbbing by the time she reached it.

With skilled hands and talented lips, she gave the widower a quick round of oral teasing. She was more careful than usual, sucking and stroking his member while looking up at him with affectionate eyes. It evoked a familiar, yet rewarding reaction.

“Oh Mandi…my love,” Willie moaned.

She replied with more sucking, bobbing her head up and down, making full use of her oral sex skills. Seeing the older man so happy and impassioned was a nice personal bonus and one she didn’t get with most clients. It motivated her to share in the feeling, as well. As she sucked him off, she reached into her panties and fingered herself, building up her own arousal.

As soon as she got him fully hard, she rose up from the bed and removed her panties. She also retrieved a condom that she’d stashed inside, a trick that only the savvy, most cunning escorts could pull off. After opening it and applying it to his rigid manhood, they were ready to complete the moment that they’d both come to appreciate.

“I’m ready for you, Willie,” Reyna said to him as she got back on top of him.

“Please, Mandi…I need you,” Willie said, reaching up and caressing her face.

It almost was sad, hearing the longing in his voice. She saw in his eyes how much he wanted to cling to the memory of his late wife. Even if she wasn’t that woman, he yearned to turn those joyous memories into an experience…one she could share with him.

Eager to share something so loving and intimate, Reyna positioned herself over him, straddling his waist and holding onto his torso. She locked her eyes on his, doing her best to mimic the loving gaze his wife must have given him for so many years. Then, as he slipped deeper into his memories, she lowered her hips and guided his manly flesh into her.

“Ooh Willie!” Reyna moaned out.

She was more vocal than usual, but for all the right reasons. The way he filled her depths, her womanly folds embracing his rigid manhood to the utmost, filled her with more than just the familiar sensations of sex. It turned an act of basic sexual intercourse into a truly intimate act.

“Mandi…my sweet, sweet Mandi,” Willie said joyously.

“I feel you, Willie…so deep inside me,” she gasped.

Now lost with him in the feeling and the fantasy, Reyna began moving her body in a succession of slow, sensual motions. They didn’t rock the bed or strain their bodies with their sex. There was none of that crude, mindless humping that she’d experienced so common with other clients. She put real, genuine passion into their sex.

“I need this…you need this…we need this,” Reyna found herself saying in the midst of their movements.

Having established a steady rhythm, she leaned in and kissed him lovingly, allowing their naked bodies to fully mesh. The widower returned the favor, throwing his arms around her and grabbing hold of her butt, something she’d always loved during sex. It allowed him to supplement her sensual movements with his strength, evoking more blissful sensations and deepening the intimacy.

That was a big part of what made Willie her favorite client. He made their sex – the same sex that she once treated as a simple means to an end – a truly intimate act. She thought she knew intimacy from her previous boyfriends. In serving Willie, she realized those experiences were just lust, hormones, and the pursuit of meaningless pleasure. There was nothing meaningless about what she did with Willie. It might have been the most meaningful part of her otherwise hectic life.

“That’s it, Willie…make love to me,” she whispered to him. “Make sweet, beautiful love to me.”

“I will, Mandi! I…I will!” he said eagerly.

He kissed her more passionately as she rode him with focused intent, working his rigid manhood within the moist depths of her inner domain. As he squeezed her butt, she reached down and fondled her swollen clit, wanting to share the pleasure with him. It further intensified the intimacy that they both so cherished.

As they embraced the feeling, Reyna also shared in the sensual efforts. She got a bit more playful at times, leaning back and swaying her body in a sexy dance, of sorts, that earned her a beaming smile from Willie. He did his part as well, gliding his hands over her naked flesh, making sure to give her nipples some extra attention, knowing how much she loved it.

Each movement and gesture had a purpose.

Each intimate act took them closer to their goal.

Slowly, but surely, they ascended towards their respective climax.

As it drew near, Reyna shifted their bodies so that Willie was on top, working his hips with hers with energy not topical of a man his age. She held onto his shoulders, spread her legs extra wide, and locked her eyes with his once more, urging him to finish the experience.

“Oohhh I’m close, Willie! I’m so…so close!” she told him.

“Me too, Mandi! Me…too!” Willie said with labored grunts.

“Just…just a little longer. I want us…I need us…to share this.”

For a brief moment, Reyna broke character. It might have been the first time she’d ever blurred the line between the woman she was and the woman she pretended to be while escorting. It was something she’d been taught to avoid, entangling such sentimental feelings with sex work. It might have been risky, but in that moment, it felt so right.

“Mandi…my love,” the older man gasped as he neared the threshold.

“Willie,” was all she got out before following him into that world of ecstasy.

A few more shared bodily motions was all it took. When the feeling washed over them, time seemed to stop as the line between memories and roles vanished.

It wasn’t a simultaneous climax, but it was pretty damn close. Willie got his first, letting out a sharp gasp as his grip on her hips tightened in accord with his release. Feeling that hard, throbbing flesh inside her along with the heightened intimacy helped send her over the edge as well. While Reyna had gotten fairly adept at achieving orgasm with clients, she usually had to make a concerted effort. She didn’t need much when she was with Willie.

With him, the release came to her. His heartfelt sentiment took her to that special place where ecstasy took a tangible form, each sensation reverberating through her like a wave of heat. It caused her back to arch and her toes to curl, ruffling he bedsheets every step of the way. As always, she savored every minute sensation. Unlike every other orgasm she’d experienced as an escort, the one she shared with Willie left her feeling uniquely fulfilled.

“Willie…thank you,” Reyna said in the heat of the moment.

“Mandi…I miss you,” Willie said in his orgasmic daze.

She lingered in that daze with him, if only to escape a much harsher reality with him. She kissed him and embraced him again, even after he withdrew from her and laid down beside her. Their naked bodies remained entwined as the afterglow set in. Reyna already sensed the time he’d paid for running out, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even check the clock. Escort or not, she needed that special, intimate moment with him.

“Thank you,” the older man said, still catching his breath as he held her in his arms. “I know I make things awkward…mixing memories of my wife with what we do.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Reyna told him, daring to cuddle closer with her favorite client. “You loved her. You miss her. And based on all the times we’ve done this…I can tell you two were pretty passionate.”

“We were. It’s one of the many things I miss about her,” he said with a sigh, “but those intense, intimate moments we shared over the years…I miss those the most.”

“That’s how you know your love was real. Not everyone gets to experience that kind of love, let alone appreciate it. You wanting to relieve it, even its with an escort who just happens to look like her, isn’t the least bit awkward. It’s sweet.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“Believe me, Willie…I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

 

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Master’s Delight” A Sexy Short Story

25-facts-about-bdsm-that-you-wont-learn-in-fifty-2-22522-1423793417-29_dblbig

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about authority, domination, submission, and all the sexy connotations that go with it. Make no mistake. The sexy connotations are there. I’ve talked about them before. This is just a story inspired by them. Enjoy!

Authority was a tricky, but necessary component of life. Without authority, there could be no order. Without order, there could be no peace. That was the mantra that Erin Grant heard from her father since she was a child. Being an officer in the United States Marine Corp and an advocate of capable authority figures, he’d taught her and her three younger brothers the value of respecting authority.

However, as she grew into a beautiful young woman with a promising career in online marketing, Erin learned that most people didn’t appreciate authority. If anything, they went out of their way to fight it.

“Seriously, Brandy, you need to stand your ground on this. If Jay won’t set a deadline, you need to give him an ultimatum.”

“You have a short memory, Marla. My sister tried that with her now ex-fiancé last year. Weren’t you with her when she threw her suitcase out on the front lawn?”

“This is different! Jay is your co-worker, not your squeeze. You got to make clear that his authority ends where your duties begin.”

“Says the woman who’s been bossing around her boss for the past two years, which I’m sure shows up on every paycheck.”

That was just the latest in a contentious debate between Brandy Wyn and Marla Isaac, two women with whom she shared a carpool. Every day, there seemed to be some major conflict going on within their department at the company. Most of the time, it related to someone not respecting another’s authority or someone attempting to assert their own. Erin had heard it so often that she already knew how it would play out.

It started with a disagreement. It escalated into a conflict. From there, it became a heated argument about who was right and who had the power to make that decision. Ultimately, there was a compromise. However, nobody ever seemed to get what they want and if it failed, nobody dared take responsibility.

That was why Erin often stayed out of those debates. She knew her role and was content to maintain it while refining her skills in the process. Her appreciation and respect for authority ensured she remained quiet during many of those conflicts, often keeping to herself and listening to music on her phone.

“What do you think, Erin?” Brandy asked her. “You work with Jay in marketing. Should I draw the line before he can undercut me?”

“What do you mean before?” Marla scoffed. “He already has!”

Erin rolled her eyes, already regretting being dragged into the debate.

“I don’t think I can offer much, Brand,” she told her. “I work with Jay, but we don’t step on each other’s toes. If we disagree, we refer to our boss.”

“That can’t be your solution to everything,” Brandy said. “Randy is a smart guy, but I need to take point on this project. It’s how I’m going to get that promotion when Jessie retires!”

“You honestly think that’s going to tip the scales?” said Marla. “I get you want to be the boss for a change, but there’s a long list of people eying that spot and leading one project won’t put you on the inside track.”

“It sure as hell can’t hurt. If you want people to respect your voice, you got to put your foot down when you get a shot!”

The debate raged on. Erin tried not to listen. At one point, she heard Marla suggest that Brandy plant a half-empty bottle of whiskey in Jay’s desk in the hopes he’ll get drunk at the next staff meeting. It was a ridiculous idea, but one Brandy seemed to take seriously.

That was the problem with those who didn’t appreciate authority. In their efforts to oppose it, they often undermined it and themselves in the process. In the end, nobody won. Nobody trusted anybody to deliver in their duties. Erin felt like an anomaly with the way she respected authority. Then again, given just how much she respected it compared to everyone around her, she probably was.

She managed to shut out the rest of the debate until she arrived at the quiet suburban house she shared with her husband, Robert. After checking her watch, Erin saw that she was right on time for what she and her love had planned for the evening. She couldn’t get out of the van fast enough.

“Have a nice night, Erin,” said Patrick, the driver of the van.

“You too,” Erin said politely.

“And give some thought to how we can mind-fuck Jay tomorrow!” Marla added. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll…give it some though,” she said with a half-grin.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Brandy.

The two women looked like they were in for a restless and miserable evening. Erin tried not to pity them too much. It wasn’t her fault their approach to confronting authority was so strenuous. Not many shared her attitudes towards it and with every passing year, fewer and fewer people seemed to appreciate it.

“If only they knew,” Erin said under her breath as she entered the front door. “Getting what you want doesn’t mean fighting authority. In fact, you can get plenty when you embrace it.”

Smiling to herself as she closed the door behind her and set her stuff aside, she checked her watch to ensure she was still on schedule. Whereas her co-workers agonized over how to seize authority for themselves, she intended to take a different approach to fulfilling her goals.

True to her punctual nature, Erin took out her phone and sent a text message to her husband to let her know they were on track. Afterwards, she kicked off her shoes, walked over to the kitchen, and plugged her phone into its charger. She then got herself a quick drink of water, assuming she would need to be hydrated for the night’s activities. Before she finished the glass, though, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her husband. It contained only a few words with simple instructions.

“I’m ready. Come on down.”

Already, Erin felt the excitement in her brewing. Her heart raced with anticipation. The prospect of an eventful evening to balance out another mundane day at the office had uncanny appeal, but pursuing it meant doing so required an entirely different approach to authority.

“Not everything needs to be taken,” Erin said as she placed her glass aside. “Some of the greatest rewards in life are given…if you’re willing to trust others to give them.”

Vast rewards awaited and Erin eagerly pursued them. Following her excitement, she made her way to the basement entrance in the foyer. Outside, it looked like just another door within a suburban house. However, few doors had a small camera hanging over it or a heavy electronic lock from the other side. The neighbors once joked they must have been very protective of their laundry. They were only partially right.

“I’m ready too,” she said to the camera. “Please, let me in.”

She heard nothing. The light on the camera just flickered and the door remained locked. At first, she thought her message hadn’t gotten through. Then, she remembered her mistake.

“I apologize. It’s been a long day,” Erin said. “Please, let me in…Master.”

The way she said that last word, lacing it with a mix of reverence and seduction, did the trick. The door unlocked. The light on the camera changed from red to green. The special activity she’d planned with her husband had begun.

“Thank you for your mercy, Master,” she said graciously. “I intend to make it up to you.”

Confident in her intentions, she opened the heavy door and descended the steps leading into the basement. There, she encountered a setup that she’d seen many times before, but it still got every part of her body hot with excitement…some more so than others.

Her master had really gone the extra mile. Once again, he gave their little S&M dungeon his special touch. As always, the windows were blacked out, the lamps were shaded with red veils, and an array of black candles were set up on special stands all around what had once been a typical cellar. In the center of the room, however, the real spectacle awaited her.

Her master had been working on it for weeks. It was a special bondage rack, one that required parts not easily found in a typical hardware store and expertise not typical of a middle-aged man who worked at a private security firm. It looked like a fancy massage table that had been modified with shackles, straps, and a few other familiar accessories that Erin knew very well. In addition to the rock, there was also a small table containing some special instruments that should facilitate the night’s activities.

If her co-workers had seen it, especially Brandy and Marla, they would’ve been aghast. If someone even joked about them using it, they would’ve been outraged. From their perspective, the idea of any woman subjecting herself to such denigration had to be damaged or worse. Erin could only laugh at how wrong they would’ve been.

“Master…once again, you’ve outdone yourself,” Erin said in amazement.

Not the least bit repulsed, she approached the heart of the dungeon. With each step she took, she felt herself drawn into a unique world with a very specific power structure. In that structure, she had no authority, whatsoever.

She wasn’t a colleague, a partner, or even a participant. She was a slave, plain and simple. She lived to serve a master and by serving him well, the benefits were many.

“My dear, subservient whore,” came a powerful voice over a loudspeaker. “Welcome back to our special domain.”

Every word echoed with such power and not just because it came through a speaker system that had been built into the walls. Still only a few steps from the bondage rack, Erin looked around until she located the other camera mounted on the wall. Instantly, she felt her master’s powerful presence.

“Greetings, Master,” Erin said with a respectful bow. “How may I serve you this evening?”

“Spoken like a good slave,” the voice responded. “You can start by stripping out of those itchy clothes.”

The young woman nodded obediently and complied with her master’s wishes. As she unbuttoned her blouse and removed her skirt, she made sure she stood in full view of the camera. She hadn’t forgotten how much her master loved watching her undress. It always pleased him, watching her reveal her womanly body to him. She already could feel his lustful eyes on her, especially as she removed her bra and panties.

After completing her impromptu striptease, she remained standing in the middle of the room, knowing multiple cameras were now focused on her naked body. She made no effort to cover her breasts, butt, or pussy. Erin wanted her master to admire her. She made it clear with the way she stood that she was a loyal, obedient slave. She was there to serve her master.

“Beautiful,” her master’s voice said through the speakers, “a loyal slave, naked and eager to serve their master’s desires. You are eager, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master…very much so,” Erin replied.

“You say that, but I am unconvinced.”

The door on the other side of the cellar opened. It led to an area that served as a laundry room and a hub for the various electronics that she and her master had set up. It was always dark, but even within the tinted lighting, she could make out the imposing figure that emerged.

“Master,” she said with a mix of reverence and lust.

He reacted favorably to her words and tone. Wearing only a pair of denim pants, heavy black boots, and a matching leather vest that revealed part of his upper body, he carried himself with the poise of a titan. Erin couldn’t help but cower before him as he approached her naked form.

On the surface, Robert Grant might not have seemed that imposing. He’d met her friends, co-workers, and neighbors. From their perspective, he was just an ordinary middle-aged man who few recognized on a crowded street. He wasn’t that tall or heavily muscled. However, he was also a former soldier who had a strong appreciation for discipline. Unlike her, though, he preferred imposing it, rather than respecting it.

“My sweet little sex slave,” he said to her. “You weren’t lying. You are horny.”

He spoke as though his will made it a reality. As if to exact that will, he reached between her legs and cupped the outer folds of her womanhood. He didn’t ask permission and she didn’t resist. He was her master. She was his slave. There was no need.

“It must have been a stressful day,” her master said. “You’re so wet. It seems you need your master’s loving touch.”

“Yes, I need it. I need it so bad!” Erin said, barely hiding her desperation.

“Lucky for you, I’m fair and loving master. I take care of my slaves. I even reward them.”

Every word echoed with strength. Within that same strength was a distinct brand of love and care that only a master could offer. That was what Erin craved. It was what brought her such immense satisfaction.

She continued standing obedient before her husband/master, gazing at him with desperate eyes as he fondled her pussy while caressing her face, admiring both her naked body and her willful obedience. She knew how much that turned him on. She could already see a large bulge protruding in his pants.

Whether it was from her stripping naked or her subservience to his powerful touch, her master was aroused. That, on top of her own escalating arousal, filled their little dungeon with the thick scene of sex.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” her master said while cupping her chin. “I’m going to strap you to my new bondage rack. I’m going to render you completely bound. Then, I’m going to please myself with your submissive form. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master…very clear,” Erin said without hesitation.

“Resist, and it will get uncomfortable. Submit, and you too will be pleased. By pleasing your master, you will in turn please yourself. Trust in me…trust in your master’s authority and I will make sure of it.”

The dynamic was rigid, but simple. To be a good slave, she had to trust in her master. To be a good master, he had to honor her trust. It was the unspoken power of authority. It wasn’t just about one person imposing on another. Trust was what granted that power in the first place. By using it wisely, both master and slave could benefit.

“I trust you, Master,” Erin said while gazing intently into Robert’s eyes. “I submit to your authority. I freely offer you my heart and my body.”

“Very good, my beautiful slave,” he replied with an affectionate grin. “From this point forward, you will not speak unless I request it. My authority over you is total.”

As if to seal the deal, Robert leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. Still grasping her chin and cupping her pussy, Erin could feel the literal and figurative power he had over her. To some, it was scary, giving someone that much latitude over their body and will. For her, it was nothing short of exhilarating.

Upon parting their lips, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and led her to the bondage rack. Erin followed him freely, not resisting in the slightest, even when he lightly slapped her butt to make her move faster. If anything, that got her even more excited. It showed just how eager her master was to exercise his power over her.

“Get on the table,” her master demanded. “Get on all fours and face the wall.”

Erin wordlessly complied. The leather of the rack was already hot on her naked skin. It had definitely been a massage table at one point, but the modifications her master had made ensured it wouldn’t be that relaxing.

Once in position, her master did the rest. First, he grabbed her arms and placed them in shackles that were attached to the side of the rack. He then did the same with her ankles, ensuring her legs were spread in the process. The hot air flowing between her legs spread the scent of arousal within the confined room. However, the extent of her submission still wasn’t done.

Her limbs now restrained, Robert activated a mechanism within the rack that raised a metal bar so that it was just under her abdomen. It was cold to her naked skin, but she understood its purpose. Between it and the restraints, her hips and butt remained elevated, the path to her sex clear and unobstructed. Any resistance at that point would’ve been futile, but Erin had no intention of resisting.

“There! Bound, naked, and secure, like a good little sex slave,” her master said as he admired her form. “I like what I’m seeing thus far.”

“Thank you, Master,” Erin said.

“Hey! Did I give you permission to talk?”

Erin gasped to herself. In her aroused state, she momentarily undermined her master’s control over her. That was a clear violation. All her life, she’d been taught to abhor such violations. Her submission to her master was no exception.

“You spoke out of line,” Robert said, treating it as serious as any crime. “For that, you must be punished. Affirm that you will accept your master’s punishment.”

“I…I accept,” Erin said meekly.

“Good, my slave. Now, brace yourself for your master’s authority!”

The excitement kept growing. She felt the heat between her legs intensify. She heard her master making some preparations at a nearby table, but couldn’t see what they entailed. Not knowing only added to the excitement.

She was already short of breath. She barely had a chance to catch it by the time her master walked around to the front of the bondage rack and stood in front of her. Looking up, he towered over her naked form with such power and grandeur. It was akin to looking up at a demigod. She could only gaze up at him with submissive awe.

“Even good slaves need reminders,” he told her. “Be sure to commit this to memory.”

He spoke like a true disciplinarian, but one who understood and cared for what it meant. That was part of what had drawn Erin to her husband and master in the first place. Her appreciation for such a rigid approach drew him to her, as well, and it showed in a big way.

As he loomed over her, he undid his belt and pulled down his pants, freeing a throbbing-hard erection that had probably been building since she entered the dungeon. Upon kicking off his pants, he stood at the head of the bondage rack and grasped both sides of her head. He then aligned the tip of his penis with her lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Erin obeyed her master once again. His grip on her head intensified. Finally, with a firm jerk of the hips, he shoved his manhood into her mouth and began humping her face.

Her punishment had officially begun.

“That’s it!” Robert said intently. “Take your master’s cock. Suck it! Lick it! Take it all!”

“Ungh!” was all Erin got out.

It was overwhelming at first. Robert was exceptionally endowed. His average stature hinted otherwise, but when he got fully aroused, his dick was big enough to test anyone’s jaw muscles. For her master, though, Erin endured the strain.

She willfully and eagerly sucked him off, gagging and slurping along his length as he aggressively humped her face. It was messy and rough, but that was appropriate. It was punishment, after all. She had spoken out of line. Her master was right to discipline her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a capable master.

“Yes! My slave…accept your punishment! Respect your master!” Robert said, his presence radiating with domineering power.

He clung harder to her head, running his fingers through her hair as he face-fucked her without restraint. Erin, like a good slave, kept taking it. She never diverted her gaze from him, looking up as his member slithered rapidly between her lips. Already, her makeup was running and saliva dripped down her chin, an unambiguous effect of a submissive slave and a powerful master.

Punishment or not, the sight of her master’s pleased expression gave Erin a unique fulfillment. Only someone enamored by authority like her could understand such a feeling. Her punishment was her master’s joy. His fulfillment, in turn, became hers. It was a perfect embodiment of a master and slave embracing their roles.

From those roles, her own arousal escalated. Being restrained, dominated, and punished turned the mentality of a slave into a tangible feeling. Already, she craved more of it. However, she could only get that by serving her master and accepting her punishment.

Finally, just as her jaw began to falter from the strain, her master ceased his movements and withdrew.

“There! Your punishment is complete,” Robert told her. “You did well, slave. Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Master,” she said obediently.

“Now that you appreciate my authority once more, you’re able to embrace its many benefits. Are you ready to embrace it?”

“Yes, Master. I’m ready!”

He knelt down and caressed her face. Unlike before, he was gentle and caring, looking upon her with affection rather than domination. It was another key trait of a strong master. When a slave accepted their punishment, they proved worthy of mercy. Robert, more than most masters, was capable of extremely satisfying mercy.

“I believe you,” he told her, “and because I’m a good master, I intend to reward your loving submission.”

“Thank you, Master. Thank you!”

Already breathing hard, her anticipation rising with each passing second, she watched as her loving master made good on his promise. Still bound and submissive, not resisting in the slightest, he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. However, she trusted him to do only what was necessary to ensure that both master and slave were satisfied.

As part of that effort, he retrieved another item from the table. It was an orange ball-gag, one custom-fitted for her mouth. Without saying a word, he put it in her mouth and secured it with ease, effectively silencing her and deepening her submission.

Then, he walked around to the other end of the bondage rack. At that point, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She had to trust him even more, believing her master knew best how to please her.

“A good slave is also a robust slave,” he said to her. “You’re tougher than most. You’ve proven that time and again. That’s why, as your master, I must be skilled in applying my power.”

There was a brief silence. Erin heard him retrieving something else from the table. She heard a bottle pop open, followed by the feeling of thick, lubricating gel pouring down her buttocks and inner thighs. Being so aroused, it wasn’t entirely necessary.

Then, she felt something hard and phallic-shaped press against her asshole.

“A little something I procured the other day,” Robert said seductively, “something I knew my slave would enjoy.”

With no further warning, he inserted the object into her. Erin’s gasped at the sharp feeling, her reaction muffled by the ball gag. She quickly identified it as a metal dildo, one specifically designed for anal sex. Her master had used one on her before, but only rare occasions.

That was because she loved anal sex and had never been shy about it. Her master often used that as an added reward for special occasions. Whatever the occasion might have been, she figured she’d been an exceptional slave because she felt the dildo vibrate.

“Mmmff!” Erin moaned, practically squealing through her gag.

“You feel that, don’t you?” her master said in his deep, authoritative tone. “I know you love it. A good master knows what his slave loves and believe me. I know.”

His certainty reflected his authority. The way he wielded it reminded Erin why she fell in love with Robert Grant and why she loved being his slave.

He knew how to dominate her in a way that made her want to be dominated. Already, she could feel a steady stream of sensations coursing through her body, the vibrating dildo stimulating her depths. She trembled under the feeling, already drooling through her ball gag as she descended further into a world of total submission.

Bound, gagged, and eager for more, Erin braced herself for what came next.

“I also know you love this,” he said, leaning over and whispering into her ear.

With the dildo still stimulating her anally, she felt her master position himself at the other end of the bondage race. From there, he grabbed hold of her waist with that strong, domineering grip of his and guided the tip of his rigid penis to her still-moist slit. He didn’t tease or tantalize her as a less certain lover would have. As soon as their bodies were aligned, he thrust his hips forward hard and confidently, driving his manly flesh into her womanly depths.

“Mhmm!” Erin gasped, her blissful delight apparent in her submissive squeals.

“Ohhh yeah!” her master grunted. “So hot and tight…you want this. You need this…my beautiful slave.”

His grip on her waist tighten as he began moving his hips, pumping his cock inside her throbbing depths with great vigor. He was not gentle or careful. He exerted the full force of his domination over her, rocking her body and the entire submission rack. The resulting sensations compounded the feeling evoked by the vibrating dildo, creating a steady onslaught of ecstasy that cascaded through her body.

It was incredible.

It was beautiful.

It was a perfect act of utter domination and complete submission.

From that feeling, a special passion emerged. Robert was her loving master and she was his willing slave. By trusting him with her heard and her body, he delivered to her a merciful ecstasy. By submitting to him, she gave him the trust and respect that made his authority strong. It made the act of exercising power as exhilarating as the pleasure it produced, creating the ultimate blend of intimacy and desire.

Together, Erin descended with him into a daze of bliss. Bound and gagged, she took the brunt of his lust, her body rocking every time his manly member plunged into her womanly depths. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled their dungeon, supplementing his dominating grunts and her muffled moans. The bondage rack trembled under the weight of their movements, but the restraints held up. That ensured she remained completely submissive when she achieved orgasm, just like she liked it.

“Mmm!” she exclaimed through the gag.

“Yes, my slave! Come! Come for your master!” Robert proclaimed.

He gave her buttocks a hard spank, as if to trigger her release on command. It worked almost too well. The resulting rush of pleasure was so intense she nearly passed out.

It was like a volcano erupting within her core, the onslaught of sensations coming together in a single burst. The feeling rippled through her from head to toe. It was a feeling she hadn’t actively pursued. She achieved it through submission to her master and his loving domination of her. It didn’t just leave her deeply satisfied. It further strengthened his authority over her.

“I’m going to keep fucking you, slave,” he told her. “You’re going to keep coming. Then, I’ll come…and your submission will be complete!”

That wasn’t a warning or a boast. That was a master simply telling his slave how things were going to be. Only a master of true authority could hope to speak with such certainty. Her husband, Robert Grant, was that kind of master.

He continued dominating her with his sex, even after the orgasmic sensations abated. He kept humping her and groping her bound flesh, squeezing her breasts and swatting her ass. Once again, he tested her ability to absorb his lust, as well as his love. As always, she passed with flying colors, achieving more orgasms in the process.

Erin wasn’t sure how many she’d had. She just made sure to soak in every last sensation as she embraced her submission, taking her master’s domination for as long as he needed. He always enjoyed drawing it out, as if to prove how well he’d mastered his authority. He had nothing to prove to her, his loyal slave, but that never stopped him from pushing it to the utmost.

By the time he finally neared his peak, her butt was sore and her limbs were strained by the shackles. None of that mattered, though. Just as her master pushed himself in his domination, she too pushed herself in her submission.

“I’m close! My loyal slave…I’m so close!” her master proclaimed.

In a final culmination, he imparted his last outburst of lust, rocking her body so hard that her restraints almost gave out. They held on just long enough for him to finally achieve his peak. When it hit, he let out a of domineering grunt worthy of a skilled and loving master.

His member throbbed.

His nails dug into her naked flesh.

His sweat mixed with hers, showing the extent of his exertion.

Their intimate act complete, her lover withdrew from her and removed the vibrating dildo. He also leaned over and removed the ball gag, finally allowing her to catch her breath and rest her jaw.

As their intimate fluids mixed within her, the finality of what she and Robert had done set in. She willingly submitted to him and he eagerly dominated her. From it, they achieved something beautiful…something that wasn’t possible without a trust and love built on a foundation of authority.

“I love you…my sexy, submissive slave,” Robert said to her.

“I love you too…my wonderful, loving master,” Erin replied.

“I’m going to unlock your restraints,” he said. “I think I’ve sufficiently asserted my authority for today.”

“That you have,” she said, “but strong authority always benefits from frequent reminders.”

“Don’t worry, Erin. I’ve got elaborate plans for plenty more reminders!”

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