L. Maretta's Blog, page 4

Simple Pleasures, A Sinful Sunday Post

On a cold and rainy Sunday, I put on a pair of warm socks, lock myself in my bedroom, and think about all the naughty things I want to write about.

Filed under: Inside L's Head

Urgent

The needle on the speedometer told me I was doing close to seventy, but all I could do was hope I didn’t get pulled over. No way was I going to slow down, not after the text Victoria sent. I was just leaving work when it came through.

I need you. Come quick, it’s urgent!

She didn’t reply when I texted back and when I tried to call, her phone went to voicemail. She sent the text about eight minutes ago. I had about two minutes until I got to her house and I was trying not to panic.

Tires squealing, I pulled into her driveway and sprinted to her door, grateful that it was unlocked.

“Vic!” I called out, assessing her living room and kitchen. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary.

“Up here! Hurry!”

I took the stairs two at a time and when I finally pushed her bedroom door open I was panting.

“Holy fuck.”

I was not prepared for what I walked in on.

Victoria’s bed was stripped of everything except a dark fitted sheet, and there in the middle she lay, naked except for the black stilettos on her feet. A soft lamp draped with a scarf made her creamy skin glow almost pink, and her chestnut hair was fanned out on the bed beneath her. Her large almond eyes were thickly lined in black, and lips painted red smiled at me. She didn’t look anything like my Victoria. She looked like a high class whore.

Her hands were at her breasts, pushing and pulling them together and apart, and she let her fingers separate so that I could see her hardened nipples between them. They were covered in a slight sheen and I could smell the sweet oil she was using to let her hands glide over her skin easily.

Her knees fell slightly apart and the neatly trimmed curls between her legs peeked out, dampened with her arousal. She used more pressure on her breasts and now her fingers closed around her nipples, pulling them, stretching them, almost to the point of pain, just how she liked. Her eyes fell half closed and she moaned softly.

“Fuck, Victoria,” I breathed and moved towards her.

“No,” she said. “Stand at the foot of the bed.”

From there I watched as she continued to massage her breasts, my eyes not knowing if they wanted to stay on her body or her face as she pleasured herself. My cock was painfully hard in my trousers but her eyes never left mine, staring into them while her body writhed on the bed.

She spent ages teasing just her breasts, keeping her movements slow, yet deliberate, before her right hand finally traced an imaginary line down her belly to between her thighs. She spread her legs wide and moaned again, louder this time, as one slender finger ran the length of her slit.

“How does it feel, baby?” I asked, rubbing my hand over the bulge in my pants. She replied only with another throaty moan.

God, I wanted her badly. I wanted to push her hand aside, spread her legs even wider, and bury my face in her cunt, but I wasn’t going to deprive her of this show she so badly wanted to put on for me. I would play her game.

She spread herself with her fingers, allowing me a glimpse at her clit, so pink and swollen and begging to be sucked on. She circled her pearl before she let it slide between her first and middle fingers.

“Christ.”

The woman has patience, was all I could think, as she forced me to watch her masturbate, continuing to work herself into the slowest frenzy ever. It was torturing.

“Get your cock out,” she demanded and I complied, pulling my shirt over my head before unzipping and letting my pants and briefs drop to her floor. Just as she was doing for me, I made a show of wrapping my hand around my dick and leisurely stroking it. She loved my cock but had a thing for my hands as well, and her eyes widened and she licked her lips as she now watched me.

Her moans filled the room and she finally pushed two fingers inside of where I was dying to be. Her cunt was perfect-so tight-and seeing her fingers withdraw covered in cream forced me to stop what I was doing. I wasn’t going to allow myself to come just yet.

She continued to fuck herself, her body now snake-like on the bed, her heels digging into the sheets. Fingers deep inside her pussy, she started to grind against her palm and soon her back arched off the bed and she cried out.

Before her orgasm could finish, I dove between her legs, yanked her hand away and replaced it with my mouth. The taste of her, God, I drowned in it, and slipping my tongue inside her hole, I lapped up the flowing juice and felt her pulse and spasm.

She was still coming when I flipped her onto her stomach and pulled her ass high in the air. I gave it a swift slap and said, “Such a tease, aren’t you?”

Her laugh turned into a groan when I pushed my cock inside her.

I fucked her hard and fast, pulling her to me by her hips, slapping her tight little ass a few more times, watching it turn a lovely shade of red. She pushed herself up on her hands so that her torso was perpendicular to the bed and looked at me over her shoulder.

“Fuck me. Harder.”

I pounded away, my balls slapping against her cunt, and then with one last thrust I stilled and roared and filled her with hot come. She circled her hips and grinded her ass against me, orgasming a second time, and fuck, her pussy tightening around my cock made it even more intense.

I withdrew and we collapsed in a sweaty heap on her bed.

“I almost killed myself getting over here, you know,” I said. “I thought your house was on fire.”

She kept her eyes closed and her cheek pressed against the sheet. “How can I make it up to you?” she said, not even a hint of apology in her voice.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

Her eyes popped open and suddenly she was on top of me, her knees on either side of my head.

“How’s this?” she asked.

Without another word I grabbed her ass with both hands, pulled her to my mouth, and started on round two.

Teach Me a Lesson

Good morning my sexy friends and happy Titillating Tuesday to you!  My very sexy friend, Oleander Plume, asked me to write a short and sexy story for her blog this week. I agreed,but only in exchange for sexual favors. We have a hot date coming up very soon.

Take a little peek at my tale of a strict teacher who has a lesson for a very naughty principal, and then head on over to Olly’s blog for all the juicy goodness.  Pretty please?

xoxoxo

L

Teach Me a Lesson

I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse allowing the pink lace of my bra to peek out at him. Leaning back in my chair I said, “There’s one more thing I want you to write, Mr. Connery.” He turned away from me once again and held the marker at the ready. “I want you to write ‘I will let Miss Waverly suck my cock’.”

I couldn’t believe I said the words but it was too late, they were out of my mouth and there was no taking them back. Once again, I thought his senses would kick in and he would leave my room but his hand starting moving. One sentence complete, ‘I will let Miss Waverly suck my cock’, and I was out of my chair standing behind him.

“Keep writing,” I whispered and ran my hands down the planes of his back, all the way to his ass and ended with a squeeze. My lips barely brushed against the skin of his neck as my arms snaked around his waist and tugged his undershirt from his slacks. I felt the soft hair that covered the lines of his abs and then slid one hand down to grasp his cock through the woolen material of his pants. He gasped.

“Keep writing,” I warned, rubbing him with the palm of my hand. His cock grew harder and was just begging to be set free.

Read the smutty rest here!

Sinners and Saints

The package arrived early, much to my delight. Standing in my underwear in my kitchen, I grabbed a knife from the dish drain and cut the seal on the cardboard box just enough so I could rip the rest open with my hands. I was always excited when one of my creations was delivered but this one made me downright giddy. I had been waiting on this particular package for six months.

My name is John Campbell. You’ve never heard of me, I’m sure, but chances are you know my work, especially if you are a lady. A lady who enjoys sex toys, that is.

I am a sex toy designer. Yes, the job exists. Like a mad erotic scientist, I work tirelessly in my basement, creating the most sophisticated and orgasm-inducing tools for XXXtasy, Inc. Have you had the pleasure of using the Anal-Gasm inflatable plug, or the MAXXX Clit 2000? Those are XXXtasy’s most popular sellers and both were created by yours truly.

I actually gasped when I saw my newest creation, snug in the cushioning inside the box. It was stunning. A dildo to end all dildos. I removed it gingerly and held it in my hands as if it was the Holy Grail. The main mechanism, a nine inch curved “cock” with thrusting and rotating ability, was encased in hot pink silicone. The clit stimulator protruded from the top and was capable of six speeds, both constant vibration or pulsating at varying strengths. The best part though was the extension at the back, an adjustable probe for optimal anal arousal. I had suggested the name Franken-Dildo but our marketing team thought XXXtreme Three Way Arousal was better. Whatever. She still was beautiful.

I fished two D batteries from my junk drawer and seconds later my creation was buzzing, thrusting, and swirling.

It’s allliiiivvveeee!

I began running through my mental list of women who would love for me to test it out on when there was a knock on my door.

“Good morning!” she said with enthusiasm and then her face flushed when she realized I was naked except for the grey boxer-briefs that were hanging low on my hips.

“Good morning,” I said, smirking and leaning against the frame of the door, fully aware that she was uncomfortable. I, myself, was not. I had a great body and never missed an opportunity to show it off.

I could tell right away that she was a “Sister of the Watchtower”. You know, a Jehovah’s Witness, here to spread the word of God? She was wearing what could only be described as an old schoolmarm’s outfit -a white blouse with poofy short sleeves, buttoned all the way up to her throat, a calf-length flowy beige skirt, and a pair of black flats that any shoe loving woman would burn on site. She was pretty though. Not necessarily hot, but cute. Curvy frame. Her long blonde hair was neatly twisted up, no make-up, but her blue eyes were large and mesmerizing. She looked like a wide-eyed cartoon pussy cat.

I noticed those pussy cat eyes linger on my body before she composed herself and started to preach.

“Sir, do you believe that when Armageddon is upon us that you will be saved?”

“No, I do not,” I told her with a laugh.

She smiled. “Well if I could just leave you with some literature…”

She reached into the satchel that was slung over her shoulder but I said to her, “Actually, I would love for you to tell me more about your work. Would you like to come in?”

Her eyes became impossibly wider.

“Oh. Okay.”

“One thing first,” I said. “What is your name?”

“Sarah,” she told me.

“Well, Sarah. I would love for you to come in and tell me all about how you are going to help me save my soul once Armageddon is upon us, but after I would like you to allow me to tell you a little bit about the work I do. Is that okay?”

She thought about it for a full thirty seconds before agreeing. I stepped aside and ushered her in.

We sat at my kitchen table; I across from her in my skivvies, watching her speak but not listening to a word that she said. I made conscious movements that would draw her attention to my body. Her eyes followed as I rubbed my bare chest, stretched (and flexed) my arms above my head, and reached down to adjust myself. I focused on her mouth as she spoke and interjected an “uh huh” and “interesting” where I felt appropriate. She was well rehearsed, I had to give her that, and she went on and on, and the entire time I pictured her body, naked underneath that granny garb, and imagined the faces she would make if I used the Franken-Dildo on her.

When she finally stopped talking I said, “Well Sarah, you certainly have given me much to think about. Now, it’s my turn.”

I retrieved the Franken-Dildo from the box on the counter and stood before her. Holding it up, I said, “Do you know what this is?”

She audibly gulped.

“This, Sarah, is something I designed myself and am very proud of.” I pressed a button and the dildo started to rotate. “This part here,” I said, “is curved so when this is inside of you the tip of the dildo is certain to find your g-spot. Have you found your g-spot, Sarah?”

Her eyes were glued to the spinning cock in my hand and she wiped the sweat that had begun to bead at her forehead.

“No,” she whispered.

I pressed another button and knelt before her. The dildo began to thrust.

“This part simulates the act of a man, such as myself, pushing inside of you over and over and over.”

Sarah’s breathing became labored. I turned on the clit stimulator.

“And this right here will massage your clitoris just right at the same time.”

Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips.

“But the best part, Sarah,” I said, leaning in to whisper, my hot breath right at her ear, “is the part that will slide right into your tight little ass just before you come, giving you the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life.”

She moaned.

I pulled away and looked into those blue, pussy cat eyes.

“Sarah, if you let me try this on you, I promise that I will make you see God way before Armageddon is upon us. Will you let me do that?”

She nodded.

I left the dildo vibrating and placed it on the table, and with my mouth gently pressing against the skin under her ear I went to work on unbuttoning her blouse. Her bra was atrocious, one of those full coverage monstrosities that a grandmother would wear, but somehow still sexy at the same time. I took the toy in my hand once again and pressed the vibrating clit stimulator to one of her breasts. Her chest heaved.

“Take off your bra for me,” I told her.

She let her shirt slide off her arms and then reached behind her back. Her tits were magnificent. Full and round and tipped with little pink rosebuds. I moved the toy to her other breast and placed my mouth over one of her nipples.

She moaned so loudly I think she might have had a small orgasm right then.

I gave much attention to her breasts, swirling my tongue around one, biting gently, while I teased the other with the toy. Sarah had melted back into the chair, relaxed like a Raggedy Ann doll, arms and legs slack, small sounds of pleasure coming from her lips.

I waited until she actually started to squirm and then stood her up. She let me remove her skirt and then I sat her upon the table in her white cotton high-waisted briefs.

She lay back, her feet on the table and knees spread and I put my mouth back at her breast as I grazed her covered pussy with the toy. The gentle vibrations made her legs tremble. I sucked more intensely on her nipple and pressed the Franken-Dildo harder between her legs, the vibrating nub splitting her through her panties, forcing it against her clit. Her back bowed off the table and she cried out. I eased off a bit and resumed lightly teasing her.

She started to writhe on the table and it was she who finally shoved her panties down to her knees, fully exposing her cunt to me.

“You want it inside of you, don’t you, Sarah?” I breathed into her ear.

“Yes,” she moaned. She actually grabbed my arm and forced it back between her thighs. I moved from her side to stand at her feet. She had a fine pussy. Tight and pink and glistening with her arousal, her clit swollen and protruding just slightly from between her slit. Her hair was a shade darker than that on her head, full, but neatly trimmed.

I didn’t penetrate her immediately, but went back to teasing her with just the vibrator, switching it from a steady hum to a pulse that waved in intensity. I wanted her to beg before I actually thrust it inside of her and beg she did.

Just moments later she panted, “Oh, please,” and I pushed the cock into her entrance.

“Oh, yes!” she screamed.

I fucked her with a steady pace, my arm moving slowly. With each forward movement, the vibrator touched her clit and she jerked, her tits bouncing enticingly. I moved again so I could suck on one of those hardened nubs while still fucking her with my toy.

I kept it slow, I wanted to make it last for her, but soon she was begging again for more. I pressed the button to make the shaft rotate now and thrust it inside her faster.

“Oh, God,” she cried.

Faster.

“Oh, God.”

Faster.

“Oh, God!”

Just as she was about to come I twisted the devise so that the anal extension, well lubed with her own cream, slipped between her cheeks and pressed ever so slightly into her rear entrance.

She exploded.

Her screams echoed throughout my kitchen and I moved again so that I could watch her fall apart. Her body spasmed and I could see the muscles in her pussy clench and unclench. I stopped thrusting but kept the dildo inside her, the vibrator directly on her clit, and she looked like a demon possessed, no longer a woman of Jehovah. The veins in her neck strained, her head thrashed as she came over and over and over. It was fucking heavenly.

Just as she had begged for more, she now begged me to stop, her body exhausted and trembling. I turned the device off and as I removed it, she jerked, her nerves sensitive from the extreme stimulation.

I put the Franken-Dildo aside and gathered her in my arms, stroking her gently as she came down from what may have been the only orgasm she had ever experienced. She stayed quiet while her breathing returned to normal but a small smile stayed on her lips.

When she pulled away, I bent to retrieve her clothing. Imagine my surprise when I stood to find her still on my table, on all fours now, her ass high in the air.

She looked over her shoulder and I swear I saw the devil in her eyes.

“Again,” she demanded. “Like this.”

Falling From Disgrace Excerpt

 

“Are you okay to do this?” he murmured against her lips while his hand caressed the back of her thigh up to the curve of her bottom.

Adrianna pulled her mouth free to answer and Jack licked the skin at her throat. “Yes,” she sighed.

Jack peeled her shirt off and then turned her so that she lay on her stomach. Divesting himself of his shorts and her of her panties, he kneeled down at her feet and sucked on the skin at the back of her ankle. His lips feathered up to her knees where he caressed one with his fingers and kissed behind the other. He ran his tongue up her thighs, bit one of her perfectly round cheeks and then licked up the entire length of her scar.

Adrianna gasped at the sensation that felt wrong and yet so achingly good. Jack had just managed to take what she saw as a hideous mar on her body and made it erotic, letting her know that he loved every inch of her; even her flawed back. When Jack stretched himself along the side of her, she turned her head and let him claim her lips once again.

He used his hand to nudge her legs apart and when he felt the wetness between them he groaned. He loved feeling the evidence of her arousal. He fingered her clit while he swallowed her moans and then ran his hand up to spread the silkiness to her ass, applying the slightest pressure there.

Adrianna jerked, her whole body going taut at the foreign sensation, and then cried out.

“Shh,” Jack breathed into her ear as she buried her face into the pillow. Using his thumb to stimulate her, he hooked one of his legs around hers to spread her wider for him. Adrianna’s hands curled around the bed sheets as Jack continued to touch her in the most indecent of ways.

Keeping his thumb in place between her cheeks, he pressed two fingers into her, fucking her with his hand slowly and steadily. His other hand slithered between her body and the mattress to tease her clit and when he pushed just the tip of his thumb into her puckered entrance, Adrianna’s head shot up from the pillow.

“Fuck!” she screamed as she rode out the most intense orgasm of her life.

Jack didn’t stop his movements, continuing to bring wave upon wave of pleasure to Adrianna’s body. After four days of hell, the ecstasy was more than welcome and she relished every tremor, every sliver of electricity, Jack brought upon her until she brought her knees up, ready for him to take her.

Jack guided his cock into her from behind and moved slowly in and out, inch by inch. He wanted to take her more roughly but didn’t in fear of hurting her.

Adrianna tried to goad him on by pushing herself back to meet his thrusts but he refused, continuing at a gentle pace.

“Jack, I’m okay,” she insisted, looking up at him over her shoulder. He leaned down to cover his body with his own, his face twisted with restraint.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he gritted.

“You won’t” she panted. “Now please, fuck me.”

Not thoroughly convinced, Jack pulled at her hips until he was resting on his heels with her on top of his thighs. He brushed her hair over to one side and attached his lips to her neck. Adrianna snaked her arms up behind her to thread her fingers in Jack’s hair and circled her hips, while he palmed her breasts, pulling and pinching her nipples with both hands.

“God, I love fucking you,” he moaned into Adrianna’s ear, his filthy words working to drive her towards another orgasm. “I love feeling you squeeze my cock when you come.”

Adrianna’s moans continued to escape from her throat quietly until Jack moved a hand back to her clit. Then she couldn’t contain her screams as she orgasmed for the second time that morning.

 

 

Like what you read?  Find the complete story here at Amazon!  Available for Kindle or in print.

http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Disgrace-L-Maretta-ebook/dp/B00EGSJKAI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1396134984&sr=8-1&keywords=falling+from+disgrace

A #TruthfulTuesday Confession by L. Maretta

Allow me to begin by stating this isn’t one of my typical blog posts. Every once in a while I get to thinking about something and feel the need to write about it. If you usually come here to read one of my sexy stories, feel free to skip this one today, no hard feelings. This is purely an L. Maretta brain dump.

Something happened on Twitter the other day that prompted me to share a #TruthfulTuesday post this morning. The post was:

One of my biggest turn offs when it comes to members of the opposite sex, is men who wag their tongues at anything with tits. Yes, women are beautiful, but have SOME standards.

After posting I realized that may have come across as a bit judgmental so I did a lot of clarifying (in my head) but then decided I was in the mood to write so here I am.

Now let me tell you what prompted the #TT tweet.

I posted a picture of myself on Instagram (as ya do) and shared it on Twitter. It was kinda sexy but nothing over the top in my opinion. A few minutes later, a more recent follower, whom I have never interacted with before, sends me a DM. His words were something along the line of, “That picture was HOT, you are amazing, totally the kind of woman I can FALL IN LOVE WITH!”

My reaction?

Whaaaaaat?

I realize that some of the pictures I post are a little risqué (mostly legs and shoes, sometimes cleavage, once or twice an ass picture) and there are followers out there who assume I’m a woman fishing for attention, and I’m okay with that because I know better. Those of you who know me know that I am constantly making fun of myself and the pictures I post are just to be silly. Yes, I enjoy the compliments, but I am not trolling for some virtual “D” or anything like that.

I didn’t respond to the guy who DMed me, just blocked him. Maybe a bit extreme, it’s not like he sent me a dick pic, but really, that statement was a MAJOR turnoff. He can tell I am amazing and the type of woman he can FALL IN LOVE WITH (yes, he did the shouty caps) from a picture of my cleavage?!? For all he knows I am a horrible person who kicks puppies and steals ice cream cones from toddlers!

I’m not by the way; I’m fabulous and 100% lovable.

(Wink, wink)

So what’s my point? I don’t know, but I will say I appreciate sexy pictures, from both men and women, too. I just feel that putting someone on a pedestal based on a pretty face, or a great rack, or tight ass, or simply having a vagina is fucked up.

People are more than their physical features.

Your thoughts on the subject? Please share!

Thanks for reading.

Love, L

One More Time

Julia hated being late. She pressed the button to summon the elevator a few more times, knowing it wouldn’t get to her any faster, but she did it anyway, releasing a little bit of frustration as she smashed the yellow light over and over. It wasn’t her fault she was late, the damn bus she rode into the city had gotten caught up in accident traffic. Cursing the fact that the hospital parking garage had been under construction for the last three months, forcing her to use public transportation, she saw her reflection in the mirrored doors in front of her and swiped a finger under each eye. Rushing from the bus stop in the sweltering heat had made her mascara run.

It’s not like Julia was going to get into trouble, she was rarely late and the head nurse of the ICU on the fifth floor wasn’t a tyrant. Still, it threw her entire day off and she’d have to rush right into work, checking charts, getting status updates quickly before making the morning patient rounds. She wouldn’t even have time to get a cup of coffee and decompress from the bumpy ride in.

She stepped into the elevator with a sigh and hit the button for the fifth floor, leaning back against the wall to take a deep breath. Just before the doors closed someone stuck their hand in and the doors parted again to allow the new passenger to load. When Julia saw who it was she sighed again, though internally this time.

Of course it would be him.

“Well hello stranger,” he said to Julia, smiling at her like they were old friends.

They had been friends once. Well, more than friends. Fuck buddies actually, and months ago they were pretty hot and heavy. They would get together a few times a week for a while, at his place, her place, his office in radiology, an empty patient room, and once in the janitor’s closet. They were nothing more than sex but it was damn good sex but then all of a sudden it stopped. Without explanation from either of them, they just kind of fizzled out. Julia did wonder if he had gotten involved in a serious relationship and that was the cause of them going from weekly sex to an occasional “how are you” text to nothing, but she never asked. While she didn’t particularly care one way or another, she did miss the sex. She was on month number two of a dry spell and just seeing Mark enter the elevator got her blood tingling.

“Mark,” she nodded and smirked back.

He looked her up and down without shame and smiled once again. This time Julia sighed audibly and rolled her eyes.

“How have you been?” he asked, ignoring her reaction and leaning close to her.

“Fine, you?”

“I miss you,” he told her. This time she scoffed.

“It’s true,” he went on. He reached out and tucked a stray dark hair behind her ear. “Why did you stop calling me?”

“What?” Incredulousness filled her words. “You stopped calling me!”

His eyes traveled the entirety of her body again. “Why would I do that?” His face was barely an inch from hers and she could practically taste the mixture of coffee and mint on his breath.

Julia started to argue but she decided otherwise. She knew his game and she was not willing to play it this time. Luckily, the elevator stopped at her floor and she pushed away from the wall. Before the doors could close again, Mark stuck his head out and said, “Have lunch with me today?”

Julia looked over her shoulder, said, “Not today,” and continued towards the ICU nurses’ station.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mark had Julia on his mind all morning long. He knew it was his fault that their relationship- or whatever you wanted to call what they had- had died down. While she never indicated she expected anything more from him than sex (which he loved about her) he just got busy for a while. Enough time went by that he felt if he did call her out of the blue just for sex it would make him seem like a dick, so he never did. He did miss her though. She was a fantastic fuck, and her body? A slim waist, thick thighs, and a pair of tits that made you want to beg for mercy. Her plump lips were made for sucking cock and damn, she was good at that, too. Just seeing her in the elevator that morning had gotten him hard. She had one of those rare asses that even the shapeless, unisex scrubs she wore couldn’t hide. Finding a woman who could pull off looking sexy in scrubs was like discovering a unicorn.

His ego was a bit bruised by her refusal to have lunch with him and his first thought after she left the elevator was Well, fuck her. But that was the problem. He really did want to fuck her, and badly.

He had spent the entire morning analyzing scan after scan, thinking about nothing but her, and so when eleven-thirty rolled around he decided to seek her out. He’d give it one more shot and if she turned him down again, he’d move on.

This was the time she usually took her lunch break and just like always, Julia was in the fifth floor break room eating a Greek yogurt and thumbing through an old issue of People magazine. He took a seat across from her.

After setting her yogurt and magazine down she folded her hands very properly in front of her and said, “May I help you, Doctor Porter?”

He had to laugh but at the raise of her eyebrow he composed himself.

“I wanted to have lunch with you,” he said.

“And I told you not today,” she answered.

“I know you did but I thought I’d give it another shot. You obviously aren’t busy, unless that is you find who the sexist man alive to be terribly important right now,” he said with a nod towards the magazine she had been reading. When she didn’t answer he continued, “Look, I was an ass in the elevator. I know us losing…contact was my fault, but I would like to make it up to you.”

“Oh? And how would you like to do that?”

He grinned.

“You’re unbelievable,” Julia said and flipped her magazine back open.

Mark got up from his chair and stood behind Julia. He ran his index finger down the back of her neck, from her hair line to the collar of her top, and then leaned down.

Exhaling a warm breath first, he whispered into her ear, “Follow me.”

His cock twitched when she actually did. He couldn’t believe it.

She kept a good five or six feet between them as they made their way down the hall, to the far end of the east wing where most of the rooms sat empty. At the end of the hall was a storage closet, just a small room with shelving covered in linens and dressing gowns. That was their destination.

Behind the locked door he pressed his body against hers and didn’t say a word. His hands curved around the plump globes of her ass and he brought his lips to her neck. He’d fucked her enough times to know her weaknesses. Just a few moments of sucking on the spot just under her left ear and she was moaning softly, melting into him. He could practically feel the fluttering of her eyelashes.

“I know you’re wet already,” he murmured against her skin. “I want you to show me.”

As he continued to caress her neck and knead her ass, spreading her cheeks apart and then squeezing them together, pulling her so that she could feel his hard-on, he felt her fingers working the drawstring of her bottoms. A moment later she held two fingers in front of his face, both of them glistening with the evidence of her arousal.

He wrapped his hand around hers and inhaled her scent before sucking both fingers into his mouth. He savored her taste. His tongue swirled around several times, lapping up every bit of juice and then he let her fingers slide from between his lips. He wanted more.

On his knees, he shimmied her pants down her legs while she toed off her sneakers. Her panties were simple white cotton briefs, worn obviously for comfort and not style, but still sexy nonetheless. He could see her dark curls beneath the fabric and he was grateful she had let the hair down there grow out since their last encounter. He enjoyed a full bush.

Mark pressed his nose against her, inhaling that sweet tangy scent once more and then exhaled, sending a shiver down Julia’s spine as the heat spread through her pussy. He could feel her legs trembling.

Slowly, he peeled her underwear down exposing her to him and then kissed his way back up her right leg. Once he reached her sex he decided to toy with her a bit. A kiss, another puff of warm air, and then a playful lick right up her slit, not deep enough to reach her clit just yet. She squirmed, her back writhing against the wall behind her.

He bit the inside of her thigh, hard enough to make Julia hiss through her teeth and then he licked the sting away. Another tease, this time his tongue split her, the tip just grazing her clit and she groaned. Frustrated, she knotted her fingers in his hair and pulled hard.

Roughly grabbing her ankle, he lifted her left foot and placed it on his shoulder and then feasted. Her wet cunt now fully exposed, he licked her with enough pressure to make her cry out and she didn’t stop, especially when he attached his lips to her clit and sucked. His technique alternated from sucking, then licking, then sucking again, and Mark felt like a god the way she quivered and moaned. He loved eating pussy and he was proud of his skills.

“Fuck,” Julia panted over and over and Mark was dying to do just that to her, but he’d be damned if she didn’t come in his mouth first. Gripping her left thigh in one hand, he slid two fingers of the other inside of her and curled, massaging that tiny hidden spot he had discovered the third time they had fucked. Sucking gently on her clit and stroking her, he drew that orgasm out of her, slowly building her up until she shattered, flooding his mouth as she pulsed on his tongue.

Heavenly.

His cock was painfully hard, he needed to be inside her so he didn’t give her much time to recover. His pants were down at his ankles quite quickly and Julia positioned herself, ready to take him. She gripped the metal rods of one of the shelves and bent over, her legs spread wide, and her glorious ass on display. Mark smirked. She loved being taken from behind.

Palming her fleshy ass, he slid inside of her ever so slowly, savoring every wonderful inch of wet warmth that surrounded his cock. God damn, he had forgotten how tight she was and he held his breath and stilled so as not to let this finish before it even got started.

Julia looked at him over her shoulder and he could see in her face that she was loving the fact that he needed a minute to compose himself.

Soon enough he was thrusting, a steady rhythm of in and out, his thick, hard cock gliding easily through her well lubricated cunt. As he fucked her he reached one hand up the back of her top to unfasten her bra. It fell just enough so that he could palm her breasts, squeezing her nipples, feeling them harden beneath the tips of his fingers.

“Harder,” Julia demanded through gritted teeth and he complied, slamming into her over and over, his hips working faster and faster. One hand moved to her shoulder and he pulled her to him, taking her roughly so that now the neat stacks of linens on the shelves were starting to topple.

Julia turned her head and found his thumb with her mouth, drawing it between her lips and circling her tongue around it, sucking just the way she would his cock. He felt the muscles in his belly twist, his balls tighten and his own groans became louder. He fell forward, his chest flush against her back and with his fingers he found her clit and helped her get there just in time to orgasm with him. Her pussy tightened around his cock that pulsed inside her, filling her as she pressed back and grinded her ass against him. The sharp spasms of muscles contracting and relaxing continued until they were both breathless and spent.

Afterwards, when they had both dressed and made themselves presentable again, Mark wasn’t sure if this had been a goodbye fuck or that it meant that they would start things up again. He hoped it would be the latter. He really did miss Julia in the time they spent apart. He knew one thing, he was damn glad he had taken another shot and found her in the break room. He also knew that he would be asking her for “lunch” again very soon.

I Like to Watch

I loved watching him.

On the stage, his body glowing under the spotlight, his hips moving to the beat of the heavy drums while his fingers danced over the strings of his guitar. He always played with his knees slightly bent and he never looked into the crowd. He barely opened his eyes, his focus on the music only. I loved his mouth and I would find myself fixated on how his lips curled and puckered as he sang, flushing with excitement when I would catch his tongue peek out every now and then.

I sat at a table, alone and off to the side so that the people on the dance floor didn’t block my view of the stage, my view of him. I was in a trance, mouthing the words of the song along with him, swaying in my chair, imagining that the room was empty and he was singing only to me.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

I looked up to see a handsome hipster sporting a pair of Clark Kent glasses and holding a beer.

Smiling politely I said, “No thank you.”

He shrugged and walked away.

I took the interruption as an opportunity to scan the dance floor. It was a small crowd, most of them women, most of them dressed in as little as possible without being indecent. Most of them also had their eyes on him. As they danced, whether in a group or with a single partner, they stared, probably fantasizing about the handsome guitar player.

I couldn’t blame them. He was beautiful. Dressed all in black, his usual gig uniform, his shirt was just tight enough to see that he was muscular; his jeans just loose enough so they hung from his hips in a way that only certain men can pull off. He had strong defined arms that flexed as he played, and long, slender fingers that you knew by the way he moved them over the guitar that he was talented in other ways. Dark hair, dark eyes, a square jaw and put that together with the fact that he was a musician, it just made the whole bad boy fantasy complete. I could guarantee that every woman in the bar would have loved to take him home for the night.

I turned my attention back to the stage just as the song ended. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and placed his guitar off to the side before jumping down and heading to grab the beer the bartender already had waiting for him.

He sipped and leaned casually against the bar, searching the crowd until his eyes locked on someone. I followed his gaze across the room. She was cute and petite. A redhead, though not a natural one, and her dyed hair was a little too bright for her pale skin. Still, she had a pretty face and a nice body. He made his way to her.

She wasn’t alone, two other girls sat at the table with her, and they all giggled nervously when he sat down without an invitation and introduced himself. He smiled at all the ladies and then turned his full attention to the redhead.

She was nervous. Her fingers moved to touch her chest and then to tuck a strand of her long hair behind her ear. She kept looking down though the smile never left her face and I could only imagine the things he was saying to her. Soon enough, the other two ladies left the table and they were alone. He moved his chair closer to hers so that he could speak quietly in her ear. At one point she actually blushed the color of her hair and put her fingers to her lips. Whatever he was saying, she was scandalized.

Just a few minutes later he stood and held his hand out to her. Still looking down, still smiling, she also stood and let him lead her away from the table, around the side of the bar, and down the long hallway that led to the restrooms. I took another long sip of my cocktail, waited about thirty seconds and then followed.

The hallway was long and dimly lit where the doors to the bathrooms were, darker in the back. I walked to the end of the hall where the space was used to store extra tables and chairs. That’s where they were.

They were already kissing quite passionately in the corner, his back to me, hers against the wall. His hands rested on her slender hips as they kissed. Their heads moved side to side, and as the kiss intensified, their hands began to roam.

I heard her sharp intake of air as he pressed her harder into the wall and she felt his swelling cock against her belly. I watched his right hand move down the side of her body, over her hip, down her thigh and then back up again under her dress. He kissed down the side of her neck and she rested her chin on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she enjoyed what he was doing.

If anyone else could see them they might assume it was just a couple making out in a dark corner. But I could see by the small crease between her brows that she was struggling to keep quiet as his fingers were sliding through her wet slit. His arm was moving slowly, the muscles flexing as he teased and toyed with her. I felt myself flush and my panties get damp. I squeezed my thighs together and licked my lips. My breathing increased with hers.

I leaned my shoulder against the wall next to me and pulled my skirt up a little higher, moving my hand between my legs to stroke myself over my panties. I watched his arm move a little faster and I touched myself the way he was touching her, firm pressure right on my clit, moving my finger in slow circles.

I heard her moan softly and I moved my panties out of the way to run a finger through my wet cunt, finding my clit and circling it again before sliding it between two of my fingers. My head fell against the wall and my mouth opened as I panted, but I didn’t make a sound.

I could hear him whispering things to her and while I couldn’t make out the words I knew what he was saying.

Your pussy is so wet.

Fuck, my cock is so hard.

I want you to come for me.

I could see her fingers digging into his back and her eyes squeezing shut. She was getting there. So was I.

I moved my fingers faster, my slick little nub now swollen and aching, keeping my eyes half open so that I could still watch them.

She moaned again, this time she wasn’t able to control the volume, and I knew he had slipped two of those long perfect fingers inside of her. I did the same.

Her hips starting moving and mine mimicked hers, she riding his hand, grinding herself against his palm, me against my own. I could hear both of them panting now, and I finally closed my eyes, focusing on the sounds and the feeling that was building, my pussy starting to tighten around my fingers, my toes curling in the anticipation of the release.

I heard her let go with another loud moan and I followed, the both of us coming, our short labored breaths cutting the air in unison. I opened my eyes again to watch her head slam back against the wall, her eyes tight, her mouth open in a perfect “O”. His face was buried in her neck, and I rocked harder against my hand, drawing the orgasm out, making it slowly circuit through me again and again until I was weak.

Before they could go any further, I adjusted my skirt and silently left my hiding spot. I went back to my table, dropped a twenty and headed for the exit.

I wondered if he’d fuck her next. Bend her over one of those unused tables and take her from behind, maybe? Perhaps she’d get on her knees to suck his cock. Or maybe what I witnessed was the extent of their tryst and they’d walk out of that hallway as if nothing happened and he’d get back on stage to finish the second set. Whichever it was, he would tell me later when he came home to me.

I Hate You, Now Fuck Me

“Thank you, Bernadette, but I think we’re going to go with Paul’s ideas on this one. Good job, though.”

My boss barely looked at me as I was dismissed and then he rose and shook Paul’s hand. I gathered my portfolio and calmly left the conference room before I could hear them slap each other’s backs and make plans to meet up for drinks at the bar around the corner. I kept my cool, pushing the door open with ease, pretending not to hear Paul asking for me to wait a second. I was pissed and I had no desire to give that smug bastard the chance to gloat.

It wasn’t until I was half way down the hall that my anger started to ooze from my body. My steps quickened and became bitter, my heels making a racket against the tiled floor.

Thwack, thwack, thwackity, thwack.

I could feel the adrenaline quivering in my limbs and I was grateful that it was the end of the day so I could go home and wallow in my bathtub with a bottle of wine. A quick stop in my office to grab my belongings and I was headed for the elevator. Just as the doors were about to close, I saw Paul rounding the corner. He put his hand up, a gesture to request I wait, but I smirked and let him disappear behind the mirrored doors. I was proud of myself for refraining from sticking my middle finger up at him.

The lobby of our building was crowded and a glance through the glass doors showed me that it was raining, quite hard, and the bevy of people were waiting on doormen to flag down cabs. I huffed and closed my eyes. Getting home was going to take a lot longer.

“Bernadette!”

I turned to see none other than Paul the prick heading towards me once again, moving quickly but still looking relaxed and like he had just stepped off the cover of GQ magazine. It pissed me off even more that the man was so good looking. He was like the prom king of the advertising world. Good at his job, a panty melting smile, and the ability to schmooze both clients and women. He was probably a great fuck, too. A real life Don Draper.

God, I hated him.

“What do you want, Paul?”

He had the audacity to look surprised by the venom in my words.

“Jeez, Bernie, take it easy,” he laughed. “I just wanted to say you had some great ideas in there.”

“Don’t call me Bernie,” I snapped, “and don’t patronize me.”

I pushed through a throng of men and women to get a better look at how long my wait would be. I wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“Hey, I wasn’t patronizing you,” Paul said, following me. “I was trying to be civil and show a bit of good sportsmanship, but if you’re going to act like a child and pout, be my guest, Bernadette.”

He enunciated every syllable of my name and I wanted to slap him across his chiseled face.

“Oh, you are so full of shit, Paul,” I spat. “You love being king of the conference room and Mr. Silverman’s little pet. You walk into meetings knowing he’ll go with your ideas because you’re a man and you’ll spend your time kissing his ass, and drinking his Scotch, and smoking his cigars. It’s so fucking cliché, it’s sickening.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart-“

“Sweetheart?” I interrupted but he kept on like I hadn’t said a word.

“-But the truth is I’m just better than you. I know how to read people, I know what makes them tick, and most importantly, I make clients feel at ease, and Mr. Silverman knows that.” His voice was low and his face was close to mine. He looked mean and he was frightening me a little but I kept my shoulders square and didn’t shy away from his gaze. “You’re so uptight, the air actually thickens when you walk into a room. If you’d take that stick out of your ass and loosen up a bit, maybe you’d land a few more accounts. A stiff drink or a good fuck is what you need.”

I was speechless. I could have ripped him apart with my bare hands. I actually shoved him away from me, eliciting a few shocked looks from the people close enough to see, and spun on my heels. I didn’t care that there was practically a hurricane carrying on outside, I needed to away from him. I pushed my way out the front lobby doors, not bothering with apologies, and stopped for just a second under the awnings to pull out my little purse sized umbrella. It was too small to really protect me from getting soaked by the windblown rain, but at least it would afford me a little bit of dignity, considering I had just stormed out of an office building like a child.

Not even a half of a block away, my black Prada shoes already soaked and ruined, a massive gust of wind forced its way down the empty city block and managed to flip my umbrella inside out. Like a character out of slapstick comedy, I frantically tried to correct it by shaking it as violently as I could. Instead, another blast of air ripped the useless piece of crap out of my hands. I cried out and watched it disappear down Madison Avenue like a pink tumbleweed.

In seconds I was drenched, my light brown hair flat against my head, my clothes clinging to my body. Defeated, I slumped my shoulders and closed my eyes, a small whimper escaping my lips. I clenched my hands in tight fists and my fingernails dug painfully into the palms of my hands. I wanted to cry.

I felt a tug on my shoulders and opened my eyes to see a navy jacket swing around and cover my head. The Good Samaritan put an arm around me and led me in the direction I had been heading. Keeping my head down, I watched my feet splash through puddles as I shivered against a stranger.

I was pushed through a door and suddenly it was quiet, the sound of the relentless rain now far away. I helped the stranger remove the jacket from my head and pushing my matted hair out of my eyes I could see I was in the entryway of a small restaurant, half full with other people who were escaping the rain.

I finally turned to thank whoever had saved me.

“You?” I whined. God damn it, why did it have to be Paul? Had I not humiliated myself enough in front of this man today?

“Shut up,” he told me and then asked the hostess to point us towards the restrooms.

Paul grabbed my hand and led me to the back of the restaurant, and before I could protest I was pulled into the single private bathroom and the heavy wooden door was locked behind me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shut up, Bernadette,” Paul repeated and gathered some paper towels in his hand. He blotted my face with surprisingly gentle hands, being especially careful as he wiped the mascara that had run under my eyes. He grabbed more towels and wrapped them around the ends of my hair, squeezing the water from it. I shivered.

“You’re cold,” Paul said. He unbuttoned my black suit jacket and peeled it from my shoulders. My white blouse was sleeveless and he rubbed my naked arms to warm me. It was working.

“Why are you doing this for me?” I asked.

“I’m not the asshole you think I am,” he said.

I waited a moment and we just stared at each other while as he kept moving his hands up and down.

“I’m not the uptight bitch you think I am,” I finally replied.

“Yes you are,” he said.

I opened my mouth to protest but he brought one hand up to cup my cheek and run his thumb across my lips.

“You are,” he insisted, “but I bet I could fuck that uptight bitch right out of you.”

“You son of a-“

I was cut off by Paul’s lips coming down hard on mine. His mouth opened immediately, his tongue pushing past my lips to seek out mine. I barely put up a fight.

I was clawing at him but pulling him closer at the same time. My hands were everywhere- his back, his ass, his hair- while his slowly crept up the backs of my thighs. They slid under the hem of my skirt.

“Oh fuck, you’re wearing thigh highs,” he groaned, fingering the lace at the tops of them before bringing both of his hands up to palm the uncovered globes of my ass. “And a thong? You naughty girl.”

His words were bordering on demeaning and in any other situation they would have irritated me but they were turning me on. I felt my nipples that were already hard from the cold tighten even more, and my panties, which had been the only part of me still dry, were now damp. As much as I hated to admit it, Paul was right; I needed to be fucked and I wanted him to do it. I pulled his lips back to mine and sucked greedily on his tongue.

I pulled my skirt up around my hips and spread my legs for him. One of his fingers traced my slit from back to front and then toyed with me, caressing my swollen lips so lightly, barely brushing against the fabric of my panties, before pressing against my clit. I groaned and palmed the bulge in his pants.

“I need to see your tits,” Paul mumbled between kisses. His hands moved to yank my blouse over my head and then I quickly popped the front clasp of my white lace bra.

“Magnificent,” he whispered.

My hands came up to cup my generous breasts and he watched while I fondled myself, squeezing and pressing, pinching and pulling. He looked on, an almost painful expression on his face. Torturing Paul was fun.

He grabbed my wrists and yanked my hands away from my body, quickly replacing them with his mouth. I hissed as his teeth grazed over one nipple then the other, paying them equal attention, moving back and forth, kissing, sucking, and biting. His hand resumed playing between my legs.

I fumbled with the front of his pants, unsuccessfully trying to work his belt open. It was just too difficult to concentrate when he was sliding my clit between his two fingers. I was so wet, almost embarrassingly so. Still, I was eager to get my hand around his cock, to feel I was having the same effect on him that he was having on me. Finally, I got his pants open and I wrapped my fingers around his hard length. We both groaned. He was long and thick. I wanted him inside me.

I was spun so that my back was pressed against the bathroom door and lifted just slightly from the ground. Paul ripped my panties away and pulled my left leg high on his waist. His hands kneaded the flesh of my ass and he put his lips to my ear. His hot breath made me shiver.

“You want me to fuck you?” he said.

I nodded and rolled my hips, making the tip of his cock press against my pussy.

“Say it,” he ordered. “Tell me you want me, Bernadette.”

I growled, “You are an asshole, Paul,” and moved again. This time his cock slid between my slick lips. Fuck, he was right there.

“I won’t fuck you until you say it.”

“Ugh!” I cried and fisted both of my hands in his hair. “God damn it, fuck me, Paul!” I pulled his mouth to mine and he slipped inside me. “Oh fuck.” My voice echoed off the walls and I was certain the entire restaurant could hear me but I didn’t care. He felt so achingly good, the delicious sting of his cock stretching me so mind numbingly wonderful.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” he panted. I was going to tell him he did too but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I have a feeling the noises I made gave it away, though.

I felt like he had me pinned against that door for hours, thrusting into me over and over. The man had incredible stamina; I had to give him that.

Just as my legs started to go numb, I was turned away from the door and placed on my feet back at the vanity. Paul spun me around and placed my hands flat on the counter top. I bent over and displayed my ass for him. He brought his right hand up and smacked my cheek, hard. While I was still crying out from the sting he slammed into me again.

“I always imagined fucking you like this,” he said, thrusting steadily, “only it was bent over my desk at work.”

“Harder,” I told him.  Was I getting a little bit of satisfaction, knowing he had wanted me and fantasized about me?  You bet your ass I was.

“I knew you’d like it rough,” he said. He dug his fingers into my hip with his left hand and brought his right hand up to my shoulder. I could feel his thumb on the back of my neck stroking just below my hair line. I let my head fall forward and closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock sliding all the way in and then all the way out. So fucking good.

Paul groaned deep in his throat and his fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of my neck. He yanked my head back and my eyes snapped open. “Watch,” he said.

I looked at our reflections in the mirror and groaned myself. It was so erotic, watching him fuck me from behind, his wet shirt clinging to his chest, my bare breasts pressed into the counter top beneath me. Our eyes locked in the mirror and Paul increased the pace of his thrusts. I rose up on my toes just slightly, enough so that his cock slid deeper and found my spot.

“Oh yes, right there,” I cried.

“Right there?” he mimicked.

“Fuck, yes. Paul-“ my words were cut off by a whimper that escaped my lips as Paul brought his hand down between my legs. He squeezed my clit between his thumb and first finger and that was the end of me. Every muscle in my body tightened and then with a loud moan I orgasmed hard, spasming around his thick cock. A second later he was following, and I watched his face twist in glorious agony as he pulsed inside of me over and over and over again.

Breathless and quite dizzy, I was pulled upright and then turned and lifted to sit on the edge of the vanity. Paul tucked himself back into place and straightened his wet shirt and tie and then went to work on making me presentable. With that same out-of-character gentleness he used to dry my face and hair when we first entered the bathroom, he helped me back into my bra, adjusting the straps on my shoulders, and putting me back into my blouse and jacket.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he said.

“I can’t figure you out.”

“I told you. I’m not the asshole you’ve made me out to be.”

I laughed and straightened my skirt.

“I’m really not, Bernadette. Let me buy you a drink and I’ll prove it to you.”

“No,” I told him, “but I’ll meet you in your office tomorrow around lunchtime.”

Maybe Paul really wasn’t an asshole, but I had no desire to find that out. He was a great fuck and that’s all I wanted to know about him outside of work.

“Why? You’ll let me take you to lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “You’re going to bend me over your desk and do that again.”

I kissed his cheek and left the bathroom, almost giddy that I had Paul the prick by the balls.

Extra Special Friday Feature – Oleander Plume!

Originally posted on Chemical [se]X edited by Oleander Plume:

So over the past weeks you’ve seen lovely Friday Features by Oleander on all the Chemical [se]X authors and their stories – well, we thought it was time we returned the favour and threw an extra big spotlight on our glorious editor extraordinaire! So without further ado, may we introduce again the gorgeous, inspiring and tireless Ms Oleander Plume…

Oleander contacted each of us to take part in her new idea for an anthology of erotic stories – every story was to be based around a tale of hers called Chemical [se]X – well, having bumped into Oleander on Twitter  many times and been impressed by her wit and charm, and utterly blown away by her writing, I think I can speak for us all by saying, we leapt at the chance to have work published alongside her.

All of the authors have added something into the mix for today’s…

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