S.J. Warner's Blog, page 15

Spirits of Strength and Honour ~ by John and marcus

Originally posted on High in the Woods:

Amongst the wilds of the parched and perilous grassy plains

The strong will survive under watchful eye of his reign

Through the seasons of rain and sun under the harsh winters burn

Leading the pack within the woods as nature turns

Tried and treasured pride, no easy task to fight for and win

Securing his right for many generations of royalty to begin

Foresee the future compelled to sow his seed

The honor of mating, creating life, the need

Daily survival dictates one ugly truth shall remain

Need for sacrificial prey so his kingdom can sustain

Hunt to kill not for sport but to fill

Bellies that call to hunger, killing is a bitter pill

Given keys to the kingdom, bestowed this existence

To be a guardians assurance of majestic persistence

To roam wild and free a gift of life given

To run, to live, survive in woodlands heaven

Mighty…

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Marcus

Originally posted on High in the Woods:

Hello, my name is Felicia, Marc’s wife.

My apologies for using his blog, this will be brief but with a heavy heart

Marc was out walking our oldest Bailey at 3am this morning and they were both struck by a passing car. Both died at the scene of accident. I’ve been told not to mention any details for now. He was very excited on his latest poem written with John and as there have been messages sent, I wanted to let you know that Marc wont be replying, I’m so sorry. I know he loved your community. When he talked about the friends he’s made his eyes just light up. Thank you for welcoming him and supporting what he called his high.

Wishing you all Happy Holidays and please, please, please, do not drink and drive.

View original

Erotic Advent by Caroline Juliette

A light dusting of snow

blankets the ground

shopping bags in tow

we scurry from store to store

finally reaching the exclusive apparel boutique

your bright eyes twinkle as you lead the way inside

racks of beautiful corsets, stockings, garters, ropes, cuffs, and an array of wonderful play items line the walls & racks

“I want to give you an early present but I want you to try it on first”

you whisper in my ear

as you hold up a delicate corset

the sales clerk smiles knowingly leading us to the fitting room

I walk inside the spacious mirrored room and undress

slipping the corset on I begin to fasten the front hooks

I hear a click snapping my head up

I look into the mirror to see you behind me

you slide your hands on my hips

“Beautiful” you whisper as you lick & bite my ear

I feel the rush of heat in my stomach and pool of wetness in my sex just from your voice

Slowly you guide your hands across my ass gently touching my curves

moving lower you slip two fingers inside my wet core and I gasp from the contact

all the while we watch in the mirrors in front of us

you whisper “Be quiet kitten”

as a soft moan escapes my lips

just knowing we could be discovered at any time has me drenched

your fingers pumping harder as my head falls back onto your chest

I’m waiting for your command to let go

“Cum” you growl in my ear

my orgasm rips through me hard and fast

“I think this outfit will do” you say with a laugh

you remove your fingers and I shudder at the loss

bringing them up to your mouth you suck on both of them and say “Mine” I am wet again from that one word

I can’t wait to give you your presents

2014 © Caroline Juliette

If you enjoyed this piece by Caroline then why don’t you head over to her blog where you will find more of her fabulous work?

BUTTERCUP’S BULLSHIT

Erotic Advent by Stephen Richards

Some women have a thing for firemen, some for male models in sharp suits. For assistant district attorney Kelly Pomelo, it was Santa Claus. She didn’t care if the guy in the costume was old and fat (as most of them were), or young and fit (rarely so, but occasionally…), hell she didn’t even care if they were good looking or not – as long as they wore the costume while they fucked her that’s all she needed.

A psychologist could’ve told her that this festive fetish probably stemmed from a childhood incident, no doubt something she’d rather forget, or that maybe she had ‘Daddy issues…’ but it wasn’t any of that crap – she just got off on fucking Santa!

She liked to think of herself as spreading a little Christmas cheer – along with her legs; kind of a Ho! Ho! – ‘ho you could say, Santa’s hot baby… Whatever… she had a kink and wasn’t ashamed to indulge it.

She knew she was good too, a real looker. Tall, blonde, bright wide set eyes that shone with intelligence, a full voluptuous mouth that promised pleasures undreamed of, magnificent breasts (the kind that sit up and say hello, her daddy used to say), a trim waist over beautifully rounded hips that led on to a pair of legs that just wouldn’t quit… Yep, she was hot; she knew what she had and how to use it.

Of course having such a particular taste in men did have its drawbacks. She had to be very careful when choosing her Santa for one thing, given her profession, and she only ever picked up guys from out of town. It also meant that she didn’t get much action throughout the rest of the year but boy, she certainly made up for it during the holiday season! Santa may only come once a year but she sure as hell cum more than that!

She was an extremely sexual woman and no doubt could’ve enjoyed her pleasures more often if she wasn’t so specialised – after all, it wasn’t as if she was short of offers, but on the very rare occasions she’d tried it with a guy not dressed as Santa the whole thing had been a disaster. Try as she might, she just couldn’t get aroused and remained as dry as the Mojave Desert, laying there limp and unresponsive.

Naturally enough, word got around that she was a frigid bitch – a cock tease, whose body promised much but delivered little. She didn’t care, she knew better – just give her a Santa to sink her claws into and she was wetter than the rainforest, bucking and riding him like a rodeo star!

So here she was, along with hundreds of others, shopping in Macy’s on Herald Square. Only she wasn’t looking for gifts for others – oh no, she was here to get a present for herself… She made her way towards the kids department, following the signs for Santa’s Grotto, every step closer filling her stomach with butterflies and making her ache between her legs. God she was horny! This would be the first this season and she was hot to trot!

As she passed through the clothing section, something caught her eye that made her stop abruptly, her mouth dropping open with a gasp. Her eyes were riveted on this hunk of a man who was looking through the holiday costumes, trying to decide between an elf and Santa. He looked to be in his late forties, well over six foot and with the drop dead gorgeous body of someone who works out regularly.

Her heart was pounding and she could barely breathe as she sidled up closer to him, watching his perfectly manicured hands as he held up both costumes. She stood as near to him as she dared, close enough to smell his expensive cologne – Jean Paul Gaultier “Le Male” – How appropriate… He’s definitely all male!

He seemed to come to a decision, selecting the elf costume and placing the Santa suit back on the rack.

“NO!” she shouted, making him jump and whirl around.

“Excuse me?” he said in deep baritone that turned her insides to mush, “Can I help you with anything…?”

He had such a wicked gleam in his eyes that she was dumbstruck, standing there with her mouth open, mortified that she’d said out loud what she imagined she’d only thought.

“I… err… I…”

He smiled warmly and she felt her legs turn to jelly.

“Take your time young lady. I believe you were expressing an opinion as to my choice of costume…”

She laughed nervously, blushing from her toes right up to the roots of her hair.

“I was going to say you’d look much better as Santa…” she finally managed to stammer out.

Now it was his turn to laugh, a deep throaty laugh that vibrated in her chest and sent tingles straight to her clit.

“Well I’ve never been one to argue with the opinion of a beautiful woman… Santa it is then!” he said as he swapped the costumes over.

“I’m so sorry” she said quietly, “You must think I’m terribly rude… a perfect stranger presuming to give you advice… I should leave… I’m sorry…”

She made to go but he caught her arm, the heat of his hand burning into her through her coat. She let out a moan, a sound halfway between embarrassment and pleasure.

“No please… wait… I’ll buy the Santa suit if you’ll agree to come and have coffee with me and that way we can get to know each other. Then you won’t feel so bad about giving advice to a perfect stranger.”

He held his arm out for her and she swallowed deeply, hesitating for the briefest of moments before snaking hers through. They made their way to the cash desk with her leaning against him for fear that her legs would give out and betray her mounting excitement.

In the coffee shop she watched him as he ordered from the barista, admiring his powerful physique, his broad back, the way he perfectly filled his immaculate suit. She squirmed in her seat, rubbing her thighs tightly together as she imagined raking that back with her nails as his weight crushed her into the bed – in his Santa suit… God, she almost came on the spot!

He must have noticed how flushed she was and the strange look on her face as he sat down, because he raised his eyebrow quizzically.

“Something up…?”

“No… no… Just daydreaming for a moment… sorry”

“No problem. It looked like it was a nice dream anyway… you were smiling…”

“Was I?” she said a little guiltily, blushing again as she avoided his gaze – God this guy was having such an effect on her! He chuckled softly and began stirring his cup, never once taking his eyes from her.

“So… care to tell me why you were so vehemently opposed to the elf costume…?”

She quickly looked down, feeling herself yet again turning crimson.

“Umm… I…” What IS the matter with me? Why can’t I just make something up? Just laugh it off…

He took her hand gently in his and she looked up into his piercing blue eyes – eyes that seemed to penetrate straight to her soul.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” he said softly, “If you’d rather not say…”

He spoke so kindly, with such understanding that when he rubbed his thumb slowly across the back of her knuckles she was lost.

“I’ve got this thing for Santa…!” she blurted and then the words came tumbling out, tripping over themselves in their rush to escape. “I can’t help it… I just love fucking Santa! And I don’t mean “fucking Santa”, I mean FUCKING Santa… you know… getting jiggy with it! Anyway, when I saw you in Macy’s looking at that costume and you looked so fucking hot and I thought of you in it… taking me… using me… and then you decided not to buy it… I… I…” she trailed off as she saw the bemused look on his face. “And now you probably think I’m some sort of crazy pervert who needs psychiatric help!”

She tried to pull her hand from his, intending to get up and leave – put this whole embarrassing mess behind her, but he tightened his grip and pinned her in place with the intensity of his gaze.

“Well young lady… that’s quite the confession!”

The corners of his mouth raised in a smile and she immediately felt humiliated, trying once again to leave.

“Don’t be embarrassed” he said, then lowered his voice so that she unconsciously leant forward to catch his next words. “I find the whole idea very arousing…”

“You… you do…?”

“Yes I do! In fact…” He reached into the bag and pulled out the Santa hat, popping it onto his head, “If you’d like to do something about it, I have an apartment nearby… are you interested…?”

He gave her a wink and a huge grin – she came there and then, almost sliding from her chair with a loud groan.

“I’ll take that as a yes then…” he said with a wolfish smile.

The walk to his apartment passed in a blur of excitement and mounting lust and she soon found herself in a very tastefully decorated, though obviously single male, studio.

“The bathroom’s through there if you’d like to freshen up” he said, indicating a door to her right, “I’ll fix us some drinks. What’ll you have?”

“Bourbon please… straight up, on the rocks”

She made her way into the plush bathroom, taking in the huge double shower and massive free-standing tub. Wow! Needs a woman’s touch though… Mmmm, just like its owner…!

She was so excited and turned on that she decided she’d surprise him, quickly stripping off her clothes down to her corset and barely-there panties. She left her stockings on as well as her heels, because they just made her legs look so long and enticing…

She re-applied her lipstick and took a long look at herself in the mirror, cupping her breasts and then running her hands down over her hips. I hope you’re ready for this Santa!

She heard music coming from the main room and smiled to herself – Santa Baby, perfect!

With a deep breath she turned the handle and opened the door…

She expected to see him waiting for her, drinks in hand; she wanted to see the look of surprise and desire on his face when he saw her; he wasn’t there. Her drink was on a small table by the sofa and she felt slightly crestfallen as she walked over to retrieve it. She picked up the glass and was letting the smooth liquid slide down her throat when she heard a polite cough from behind her. Turning, she gasped aloud as she saw him standing there in full costume, watching her.

Oh my word…! She swallowed hard, her whole body trembling with anticipation as he slowly walked towards her; she could barely breathe she was so excited… He smiled and took the glass from her before she shook the contents onto the floor, placing it on the table before standing up so close to her that she could feel his breath on her flushed cheek. She moaned as he whispered in her ear, “Have you been a good girl for Santa…?”

All she could manage was a nod before his mouth closed on hers in a kiss of such passionate intensity that she melted against him, only his strong arms keeping her from falling. His tongue flicked across her lips and she opened to him, moaning into his mouth as his tongue slid inside. He increased the depth of the kiss and she returned with equal vigour, her body vibrating with need as they devoured each other. He moved one of his legs between hers and she ground herself shamelessly on it, panting and moaning as she broke the kiss and threw her head back.

He pushed her backwards until she fell onto the sofa, then leaning over her body, his hand cupping her mound, he attacked her neck with fevered kisses. She ripped open the front of her corset and grabbed his head, forcing his mouth to her hard nipple, crying out as he sucked deeply, drawing her ripe flesh into him. His fingers played between her silken lips before sliding slowly in, making her groan and clutch at him. She bucked her hips up to drive his fingers deeper, trying to sate the overwhelming urge to be filled. When his thumb began to rub and press on her clitty she sobbed and jerked uncontrollably, humping his hand until with a cry of ecstasy she came hard, her pussy clamping so tightly on him that he couldn’t move.

She collapsed back with a contented sigh and released his fingers while he softly kissed her tender nipple. She moaned quietly as he kissed his way down her chest, over her stomach, then on down between her splayed legs. She giggled as his fake beard tickled the inside of her thighs, her laughter turning to sighs of pleasure as his tongue began to swirl and lick her most intimate parts. With skilful fingers and a very clever tongue he brought her to orgasm again and again before she finally grabbed the shoulders of his costume and pulled his face up to hers.

“Fuck me Santa!” she snarled, snapping her teeth at him, “Fuck me NOW!”

He stood up, his eyes blazing with desire as he undid his belt and let the trousers fall to the floor. She felt a sudden flutter of panic as she saw how hugely endowed he was – at least nine inches of very engorged, very thick and very hard looking meat! She licked her lips lasciviously, curling her index finger in a ‘come here’ motion before she reached down and held herself open for him. He needed no further encouragement. Kneeling between her legs, he gripped the base of his cock and rubbed the head up and down between her swollen lips causing little cries of pleasure to escape her mouth each time he brushed across her clit.

She could take no more. With a feral growl of pure lust she encircled him with her legs and pulled. He thrust into her so hard, so completely filling and stretching her that she threw her head back and screamed! They were both so excited, so utterly turned on by each other, that it didn’t take many strokes before they came together for the first time that night amidst cries and growls and murmured ‘Ohhhh Santa’s…!’

So began a night and the best part of the following day of ‘no holes’ barred debauchery, only complete exhaustion – and some pleasant soreness – finally calling a halt to this festive fuck-fest!

She had intended this to be no more than a one night stand… she ended up staying a whole week…

***

A new year arrived and with it a return to the routine of court appearances; of cases won and a few lost. She sat in her office, preparing her notes for tomorrow morning’s case, letting her mind wander back to that fantastic week when she’d very nearly slayed Santa – and herself – with their fucking! In all those wild days and nights, they’d never enquired as to each other’s professions and she wondered what he was doing now…

Her reverie was interrupted by a young clerk named Sandy who had brought some additional files she’d asked for earlier in the day.

“Here you are Ms Pomelo. The documents for the Miller case”

“Thank you Sandy, put them with those others and I’ll have a read of them after I’ve had a coffee. Would you mind…?”

“Fetching you a coffee? Sure Ms Pomelo!”

She’s such a sweet girl… “Thanks Sandy, I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

“By the way Ms Pomelo” Sandy called back over her shoulder as she was leaving, “I heard Judge Parker won’t be sitting tomorrow, he’s been called away… some sort of family emergency. We’ve got a circuit judge instead.”

“Oh great!” She called after her, “D’you know who it is?”

“No Ms Pomelo. Just some guy is all I heard…” and with that she was off to the kitchen. Kelly’s mood dropped like a stone. Swell! I really like Judge Parker, he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy… I wonder who’ll turn up now. Some half-baked, touchy feely, go easy on ‘em… Grrr!

The next day, Kelly sat at her desk in court, getting her papers and notes in order as everyone waited for the judge to arrive. She glanced at her watch and then quickly scanned the courtroom, taking in the sea of faces behind her.

“All rise! Court is in-session the honorable Judge Stephens now presiding.”

Kelly stood, glancing down once more at her notes before looking up at the judge.

“Thank you. Please be seated.”

Everyone sat down except Kelly. She stood rooted to the spot, her heart racing as she stared at him.

“Santa…!” she gasped…

2014 © Steve Richards

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Erotic Advent by C.R Lemons

Enjoyed Lemons’ piece, discover more here:

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Erotic Advent by Mark Davis

© Eliza White

 

Not milk and cookies Santa

But something more delish

I wait here by the tree

Prepared to grant your wish

Take a break my bearded friend

Get down on your knee

Love how your whiskers tickle

As you snack on me

Mmmm your North Pole is so rigid

I know your schedules tight

Want to feel it in me

Won’t keep you all night

But come back in June

When we can play all day

Now just leave my gift of Santas seed

Then be on your way

2014 © Mark Davis

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Erotic Advent by Chris Kuhn

 

The gift you bring

Your offering

Each taste and touch,

My body sings.

Long to unwrap

And free you from

The clothes that trap

A tasty sum.

A present waits

With savory sap

For garland hung

By a single lap

That leaves a sheen

A glossy bow

The greatest kiss

My lips bestow.

I hold this package

Joy unfurled

And seek to make

Your ribbon curl.

I feel the push

Behold the feast

One taste away

A sigh’s release.

Your jolly tidings,

This quaff I had,

I hummed so softly

It drove you mad.

Who knew the work

Of a stealthy tongue

Could speak no words

And get the job done?

2014 © Chris Kuhn

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Erotic Advent by Olivia Purley

 

The cold and crisp air drifted into Henry’s cabin, as the old train hurtled through the early evening on its way to Lake Bled. Henry, determined to enjoy himself on this trip, brushed his hair into place with his comb. Frowning at his reflection in the mirror, he wasn’t happy with tufts that wouldn’t behave. He had been accused of being a recluse and unsociable. His accusers spoke the truth, but he had good reason. However, the time had come to adorn his party clothes and enjoy the company of others.

This party had its excesses that didn’t match his tastes, but he deemed them normal for the company he worked for. Working in the computer security department gave him his much-needed privacy. He liked to work alone and had very little patience for people.

Straightening his jacket in the mirror he wished that he had learned how to tie a bowtie. Too late, he stood in a train cabin, travelling through the night, in the middle of nowhere. In any case, it would all be over in a couple of hours and he would be back safely in his couchette, away from all the prying eyes and whispered gossip.

One last look at his reflection and then Henry pulled the latch of the door and stepped out into the corridor. He locked the door and navigated the narrow space to the end of the car that housed the living quarters. The winter’s night had chilled his surroundings, the draft leaking through the unsealed windows. The company had hired the whole train for a long weekend. It started at Waterloo in London and ended at Lake Bled in Slovenia.

Staggering along to the next coach corridor like a drunk, he held on tight. The train took a sharp curve on the tracks to the left and he slammed against someone’s cabin door. The dark sky gave no clues to the terrain outside. The night had an eerie quietness about it, all that sounded was the staccato repetition of the train wheels on the tracks.

Half way down the dark corridor a flash of light shone out from one of the doors. A pair of sparkling blue eyes narrowed and stared straight at him. Mesmerised by the blonde mess of hair on top of her head, Henry lost his footing.

The beauty stood with her hands on her hips, four feet away, sniggering at his clumsiness.

“You’ll do, come here.” The stranger said, in a tone that gave him little choice.

He stepped closer and she grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him into her cabin. Clothing draped over every piece of furniture. The woman wore very little in the way of clothing on her body. Her black blouse, sheer, displayed her lace black bra underneath. Her long black skirt flared out and the hem swept at her feet.

“What is it you need Miss?” Henry asked her, closing the door behind him.

“Miss? Blimey, you’re a bit formal, it’s Francine. What’s your name?”

“Henry.”

He absorbed his surroundings, her basin covered in make-up pots and creams. The window opened a crack letting in the cold December air. The bunk beds were unmade with the coverings crumbled at one end.

“Hello Henry, nice to meet you. I’ve never seen you at the company outings before. Have you recently joined?”

“No. What do you want me to do?” He said impatiently.

“No small talk, fine, help me on with this corset. I bought it for tonight and I didn’t realise I needed help. I’m here on my own, so you’ll have to help me.”

Francine held up a scarlet corset, the ribbons fell from the back. The beauty of the restraints sent blood to his cock. He wanted to tie Francine up and fuck her hard.

“All right, where do I start?”

“I’m going to clip the corset loosely around my torso and then you can pull on the ribbons on the back until I can’t breathe.”

Henry, fascinated with the ribbons, fiddled with the end of one of her ties. Francine clipped the metal hooks in place and straightened the garment. She had positioned the corset under her ample breasts. Holding the corset at the front.

“Ok, Henry I’m ready for you to start pulling.”

Henry tried to work out how they were going to achieve this feat.

“Put your hands on the basin and bend over slightly, hold on.” Henry instructed her.

“You sound like you know what you are doing Henry, have you strapped up women before?”

“You’re my first.”

Francine stepped in front of the basin and tidied her messy hair using the reflection of the mirror. She caught him watching her and smiled warmly, her blue eyes mischievous. Deliberately and slowly she placed her left hand and then her right hand on the basin and gripped hard. The whites of Francine’s knuckles shone like beacons on her hand, the skin stretched to its limit.

Francine arched an eyebrow and communicated to Henry through the reflection of the mirror. She swayed her derrière once and then twice, inches away from his crotch. Henry’s stiff cock, teased to life, strained to be let out.

Ignoring what his cock wanted, Henry drew in a breath and concentrated at fixing her underwear. Tightening the top of the corset, he pulled in the ribbons, row by row. Pulling them in tight, Francine’s body moved with his hands. Each sharp tug brought her body closer to his. Lacing up a beautiful stranger fully clothed turned Henry on.

After pulling on all the ribbons, he took the four strips of loose material that trailed down her skirt and pulled hard. Francine let out a yelp but stayed perfectly still. Her eyes didn’t leave Henry’s face.

“Am I pulling too tight Francine?”

“Not tight enough, I can still breathe.” She joked. “You’re doing great, honestly.”

“Good, I need to tie these ends, should I do a bow or a knot?”

“No idea, make it up, see what looks pretty.”

The frown lines between his eyebrows deepened when the ribbons fell from his hands. He picked them up again and tied a bow, pulling hard again. Glancing to the mirror, he liked the round shape Francine’s mouth made. He wondered if her lips would look like that if he slid his cock in her mouth.

“What are you thinking about Henry?”

Flustered, Henry stepped back and hit the bunk beds, he had nowhere to go and distance from Francine wasn’t an option.

“I was thinking that you’re a gorgeous woman.”

Francine turned around and stood straight, her breasts had elevated with the corset sitting underneath them. Smoothing down the side of the garment and placing a hand on her stomach, she admired her new figure. There wasn’t an awful lot to see, with her cleavage in the way.

“It’s an amazing corset isn’t it?” She said not giving him time to answer. “So, Henry, you have me tied up what are you going to do with me.”

“Excuse me?” He said confused.

“Oh, come now, I saw how you looked at me, you want me. You’re a handsome man, so why not?”

Henry took three seconds to decide.

“Turn back around and hold on to the basin, this is going to be quick.”

A smile spread across her face.

Henry lifted the copious amount of material that made up her skirt and placed them over her body and head. He didn’t want her to see anything, just feel the sensations. Dropping to his knees, he breathed her aroma in. The knickers she wore held her curvaceous derriere. He wanted to bite it.

She voiced her surprise when he nipped her cheek with his teeth. Pulling her knickers down to her ankles, he carried on biting lightly on each bottom cheek, leaving temporary red marks as he went along. The rosier her cheeks were becoming the harder his cock became. Spreading her cheeks, he licked her once, to taste her.

“Keep still Francine, I won’t take long.”

A few more licks and then Henry plunged his tongue inside her, a low moan coming from Francine thrilled him. Standing and undoing his trousers, he freed his cock from his trousers. Taking himself in hand, he stroked the tip of his cock up and down the cleft of her bottom, teasing her. The noises of approval coming from Francine urged him to fuck her immediately.

Finding her pussy entrance, he pushed in an inch. The warm wet welcome he received weakened his knees momentarily and he regained his balance with a hand on her back. He needed and wanted to push all the way in.

“Are you sure Francine?”

“Hurry up and fuck me, I’m half way there, fuck me hard Henry.”

He slid in slowly, enjoying the sensation of being inside a woman after so long. The warmth that enveloped his cock almost tipped him over the edge. He knew it wouldn’t take long as he hadn’t fucked a woman in years. He missed sex and had avoided the act at the same time.

Picking up the pace he held onto her hips. Watching her knuckles turn white as he hit her bottom with his hips thrilled him further. The loud slapping of flesh against flesh hardened him further still. She pushed back to meet him to get more friction, her walls were tightening around him and his balls were becoming painful, he wanted to come.

Francine pushed him away and turned around and dropped to her knees. Kneeling in front of him, she opened her mouth and wrapped her plump lips around his cock. Closing her eyes, she sucked hard and pumped his length as she licked around his head. His warm liquid shot out and down her throat, her mouth, as inviting as her pussy.

He couldn’t care that she hadn’t orgasmed at that moment, he could only concentrate on her magical tongue.

“You’re fun Henry.”

Francine stood and pecked his lips and turned her back to him, she spoke to him through the reflection once again.

“You need to go Henry, I have to get to the party and I need to clean up, thanks for tying me up.”

Henry continued to look at her reflection, attempting to work out her motives. She wanted to be fucked but didn’t seem bothered that she hadn’t had an orgasm. He gave up working it out and zipped up his trousers. Turning the handle of the door, he paused for a minute to give her another chance to speak. Francine didn’t say a word and cleaned her teeth. He left her room and closed the door.

Moving down the corridor to the party coach, he attempted to forget the encounter. Sliding open the door, the noise of the chattering and laughing party goers smacked him in the face. The evening appeared to be in full swing and he had some catching up to do.

“Ah, there you are Henry, I thought you’d never come out of your couchette.” His boss said. “Have you seen my daughter anywhere? She’s having difficulty with her outfit. I’d hoped she would have been here by now.”

2014 © Olivia Purley

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Erotic Writer of naughty Short Stories. FIRST ENCOUNTERS VOL I and THE SCARLET SESSIONS VOL I out now. Grace Harper’s kinky alter-ego.

Erotic Advent by K.B Mallion

 For crimbo

I bought a silky pair of knicks

Pillar box red

Just like my Revlon lips

Feeling festive

I am out for Christmas Eve

Father Xmas?

Nah…I’m not one to believe

Upon my bed

I laid out the clothes

I shall wear

Then I heard bells

I did not know from where

From my window

I look up on my roof

That is when I see

A lot of tiny hooves

I am thinking

‘What in holy shit?’

Ho Ho Ho

The voice of St. Nick

Is this a joke?

Am I on ‘You’ve Been Framed’?

I better be good

Not swear or misbehave

I turn around

On my bed is a surprise

A little box

I cannot believe my eager eyes

A little note

‘I am sorry, but I’ve swapped…

You can have these

For I liked yours a lot’

I open the box

Taking out what is inside

My disdain

I honestly cannot hide

The biggest pair

Of Y fronts you have ever seen

I cannot wear them

God knows where they have bloody been

I rush to my window

I shout up to my roof

‘Hey St. Nick’

Stop being a bloody goof’

All I see

Is my red, silky knicks

His arse squeezed into them

I actually feel sick

Why why why?

What a rotten thing to do?

St. Nick

That is exactly why I don’t believe in you

 

Tinsel Tits

 

I’m going to bring the festivities on with glee

Behave without an inch of dignity

I’m going to sing and stand on a chair

With bauble earrings and glitter in my hair

I’m going to drink an awful amount of Spiced rum

More than likely, spend a lot of time on my bum

I want to eat a load of yummy scrummy chocs

Sprouts with bacon bits, nice, give me the trots

I want to play games with the kids on the Wii

Kick everyone’s ass at ten pin bowling…yippee!

Wearing my saucy Santa suit is always a hit

To add a bit of bling, I put tinsel on my tits

Dancing stupidly around in my kitchen

Like I said, dignity and inhibition, I’m ditching

Making silly home movies, to cringe at later

My Glo’shire accent, will say hi, just you wait errr!

I will proudly embarrass my kids with festive flair

From my 19 year old, I’ll no doubt get a deadly stare

I want to sing xmas songs and Auld Lang Syne

Probably make up my own words due to mulled wine

There will be the xmas spirit within the air

Not just because of the candles burning everywhere

I’m going to pop party poppers and make a big mess

Spray silly string EVERYWHERE and not get stressed

I want me and my family to have a damn good time

You may get to hear all about it with another rhyme!

2014 © K.B Mallion

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Erotic Advent by C.J Heath

The cabin looked no different than it had for the rest of the year; it has always been her who had put up all the decorations. He couldn’t face Christmas alone and had decided he would simply stay at the cabin and treat himself to a long weekend.

The plan wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. Everywhere he looked he found memories of her. When he’d arrived at the cabin he’d headed to the bedroom and almost immediately spotted scraps of red and white wrapping paper lying on the floor. Had it really been a year?

He could see her now sitting up in the bed on Christmas morning. Her long, dark hair hung in tangled tendrils over the white babydoll she’d been wearing when she’d climbed on top of him the night before. She’d teased him that he wasn’t allowed to unwrap his present but he could give it a good feel.

Artor smiled at the memory, he was conflicted. It hurt that he missed her but the memory was both sweet and arousing. She’d been true to her word; he hadn’t been allowed to unwrap her but they had let foreplay see them through dusk and into the hour when sleigh-bells were eagerly anticipated. He’d waited for the grandfather clock in the hall to announce the new day and he had planned to pounce and demand his gift at the last stroke; he’d fallen asleep with minutes more to wait.

It was hard to accept a year had passed so soon. A year since he’d been happy, a year since they’d last been together; a year since they’d driven away through the snow and he’d ploughed into the tree.

He’d sat trapped between the steering wheel and the seat for three hours as he’d watched her die. The car had no passenger airbag and he tried to take a small comfort that she had been knocked unconscious as she’d slammed face first into dashboard. After his initial panic, Artor had realised that though she was silent, she was breathing. It was another five minutes before he saw the blood.

He’d reached across to take her hand and had called to her repeatedly. His fingers caressed the engagement ring he’d slipped on her finger the morning before; a Christmas present she’d said she’d wear always.

Always.

Wiping his eyes, the Spaniard moved to the living area again and cast his eyes around the room. The cabin was vast and had been the first thing they had bought together, The aspiration was that they would rent in the city for however long it took his dancing career to take off and she would continue to freelance with her photography. The intention had always been that they would claim the cabin this home at the first opportunity.

Artor sank down into the heavily padded settee and stared at the photograph above the fireplace. He loved the simple black and white image. There had been a minor argument about the picture; he had thought it vanity to have a picture of himself in such a dominant place but she had insisted. Now it made him smile. The image was taken with his face in profile as he’d performed a tour en l’air and she’d taken the photo with him frozen in the air. Naked above the waist, his muscles showed how well toned he was he could clearly see the finger marks on the glass where she used to constantly stroke his abdomen and chest.

Clenching his teeth together, Artor’s jaw began to ache. He closed his eyes and bit at his lip as he tried to separate himself from his memories. With a deep breath, he tried to cleanse his pained soul. Guilt at having caused the accident wasn’t lessened by knowing his instinctive yank of the wheel had saved a deer. He rose off the settee once more and running his hands through his short dark hair, he stepped to the mantle above the fireplace. Sitting below the monochrome image of himself was a small, silver framed triptych with three pictures of her under the glass.

Just as she used to run her fingers over the glass covered image of him, he did the same to hers. The two pictures either side were of her dressed casually and caught as impromptu snaps but the middle photograph she had taken herself; it was a traditional portrait shot and she was looking out of the image at an angle. The way her head was turned with her long tresses brushed over the shoulder exposed the neck he had kissed so many times. He sighed, grasping the mantle with both hands and lowered his gaze to the made but unlit fire in front of his feet.

Artor remained lost a reverie of his own making for over an hour and shook himself back to his reality to note the room was growing dark. The window that faced out onto the lake front showed the sun disappearing behind the tree-line on the far side of the lake and he crossed to the door to flick the lights on. When he turned back to the settee he froze.

“Come sit beside me” his fiancé said.

Stumbling back a step with his mouth agape, Artor grasped at the door frame and fell against it, his legs shook and he clutched the wooden jamb with both hands as he gasped and stared at her.

“Em?” Artor asked. “Emma? How…?” Shaken to his core, the bronzed man struggled upright and hesitantly stepped closer.

She was dressed in her nightwear from the previous year. Over the white babydoll negligee she wore a long dressing gown of white silk that they’d bought on a trip out together. She’d worried at the expense and said she’d never get to wear it and yet, she had dressed in often.

Patting the cushioned seating beside her she smiled up at the ballet dancer. “I’ve been so cold; cuddle me.”

Wordlessly, Artor slipped onto the settee beside her and cautiously, he reached out to her face. As his fingers stretched out to her cheek, he halted, terrified she would vanish at his touch or that he would find his reality was twisted and that he was simply imagining her presence. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

Emma raised her arm and grasped his wrist in one hand, then she brought her other palm up to stroke the back of his fingers. A single tear ran down his cheek as he felt the contact. She brought his hand to her cheek herself and rubbed her face against his palm as she smiled.

Artor grinned at the touch. Habits returned in moments and he ran his fingertips down her cheek to her neck and shifted her hair over her shoulder to drape down her back. Moving closer, he delicately kissed her earlobe, then her neck. As he nuzzled against her he could smell the gentle hint of jasmine. She always smelt of jasmine; it was the oil she dropped into her bath water rather than a perfume but it was both rich and delicate at the same time. He placed his other hand on her thigh over the soft silk and gently squeezed.

The young woman turned her head to face him, causing him to break away from kissing her neck and she put her hand to the back of his head and stroked his cropped hair. Emma grasped his head gently and pulled him forward; he needed no urging and he closed on her to meet her lips with his own. Their lips opened and tongues tasted memories a year absent. As the kisses grew more fervent as passion was roused, Artor felt her part her thighs and he slid his hand from resting on the silk to lightly brush against the flesh that she had exposed.

Emma moaned into his mouth at Artor’s touch, then slowly, she pulled away and squeezed her thighs back together, trapping his hand between her knees and her own lust.

Concern showed on his face and the pain of denial was clear but his lover grinned and quietly whispered for him to take her to the bedroom. With his pain and anguish set aside, the man retrieved his hand and slid it beneath her knees as he hugged her close and rose with her in his arms. She clasped her hands behind his head and rested her cheek on his shoulder as he moved with the grace of the dancer toward the door at the rear of the room.

In the bedroom, he ignored the light switch and in the dim twilight gently marking obstacles in his way, Artor laid Emma gently on the bed. As she smiled, he took his time and lit the few candles around the room, carefully placing glass covers over the naked flame that magnified the gentle light.

Returning to the bed, he shed his shirt and slid beside her. Emma rolled to face him, pulling at the sash belt that secured her delicate robe and pushed him firmly but gently onto his back. Raising her leg, she shifted so as to sit upon his lap. Even through his jeans she could feel his attraction for her and she laid down lengthways across his body.

With the delicate smell of jasmine replaced with the scent of strawberry from her shampoo, Artor ran his fingers through her hair and drew her face to his own and kissed her softly. Brown eyes bored into his and he smiled up at her.

Drawing her knees up, Emma leant back and slowly began to grind her hips against the fold of his fly, the rough denim pressing hard through the thin lace of her panties where the silk gown had parted. She placed her hands flat on his chest and with her knees drawn up to his thighs, she rocked herself against him.

Artor delighted in her expression as her eyes closed and her breathing deepened, he rose his groin from the bed by clenching his buttocks and lifting his arse from the bed. Emma wobbled momentarily but the increase in pressure caused her to gasp. Using his strength, the dancer sat up and turned in one swift movement. As his fiancé tumbled, he reached his hand to the small of her back and rolled with her. They came to rest with Emma on her back and Artor between her thighs and leaning over her. For a moment, he rocked himself to cause his jeans to rub against her and she whimpered softly in pleasure.

Slowly, he retreated. He sank lower, shifting himself toward the foot of the bed as he trailed kisses over the air-thin material of the virginal babydoll. He reached the top of her panties and softly licked around the edge of the material, lightly teasing, careful not to stimulate her directly, not yet. While Emma closed her eyes in anticipation, he shifted his hands to himself and unfastened the buttons of his jeans, sliding the denim and his underwear down his legs. The trousers caught at his ankles; bringing both hands back, Artor pushed his arms under Emma’s bent knees and slid his hands under her buttocks.

Artor quietly used his feet to push his jeans off his legs completely while he sucked delicately at his love’s most sensitive areas through the lace of her lingerie. No longer did he smell strawberry or jasmine, now he could smell her, the sweet, heady scent of her arousal. Pushing his tongue against the fabric he probed hard, forcing the delicate, cotton pattern into the cleft of her sex, inside her, between her wet lips. He licked the length of her pussy, teasing her as he nudged her panties in, then drew them back out by delicately nipping the fabric and raising his head.

Feeling fingers try and fail to grasp his short hair he grinned to himself. His teasing resistance was short lived as Emma just locked her fingers together behind his head and held him in place as she raised and bucked her hips, trying to grind her clitoris against him. He conceded and brushing the bridge of his nose against her delicate bud, he slid his face forward; as her clitoral hood shifted with his motion, her thighs tensed and she released her grip. Artor didn’t relent, as he raised his eyes to gaze at her breasts and saw her bring her palms to them, fingers pinching at the nipples that created peaks of the babydoll.

Artor circled her clit with his tongue, delicately flicking in alternating directions. He brought his knees up to his body and rose up to look down on her. Emma looked up into his face and still mauling her breasts, she mouthed silently ‘Fuck me!’

Artor had always been a gentle, unselfish lover. It was Emma that was the dominant one in their relationship. Many times he had been held down as she rode hard on his face while she tugged at his penis, bringing him close to ejaculation, then denying him. She would shift her position and impale herself on him and buck against him, slamming her arse down hard on his thighs as he would thrust into her at her command. Tonight was different. Tonight he had a year of longing to meet and her coarse words were enough.

Their love-making usually lasted hours as he teased and she writhed but now he was at the edge of his own self control. The gentle man reached out and grasped the neckline of the negligee she wore with both hands and ripped the material apart, tearing it open to spill her breasts out to his sight. He lowered himself fast and hungrily, his face pushing her hands away as he took her nipple between his lips. He sucked and let his teeth scratch lightly at the swollen bud. Arching her back, she pushed herself against his hungry mouth and he slid a hand between them both. He pulled her knickers aside and grasping his length, he put the tip of his cock against the slick opening at the fork of her legs.

A single thrust and he was inside her, her pussy lips bulging aside to accept him. She reached down and grabbed a buttock in each hand. “Fuck me” she whispered, “fuck me hard.”

Artor drew back, then with his knees as purchase, he thrust forward, forcing every inch of himself deep into her and he repeated it. Again and again he pounded into her; his lips shifted from her breast and he lay upon her. Emma released his arse cheeks and grasping her knees from underneath, she managed to raise her legs so her nipples almost touched her knees. She urged him on, begging him to go deeper, faster and harder.

Spurred on, he lost himself. Hammering home with every stroke, he rose off of his knees, just his palms and feet touching the bedding, his pubic bone slapped against hers, the impact jarring her but making repeated contact against her clitoris. Emma began to wail and grunt as her breath was forced from her and she let her legs go to clutch at his back, digging her nails into his flesh.

Artor called her name and broke free, withdrawing from inside her warm, wet folds and leaning back on his knees, he took his cock in his hand and began to masturbate. He was going to cum on her pussy. Emma had other ideas and hurriedly, she wriggled free of him and turned to kneel before him. She pushed him on his back but instead of climbing onto him, she grasped his hard, stiff cock in her hands and with her mouth open and her eyes staring into his, she wanked him hard. One hand cupped his balls and the other frantically stroked his length. Her tongue flicked over the head of the sticky penis and she adjusted her grip to grasp him lower, covering the glans of his meat with her mouth.

As he tensed, he told her he was going to cum and all Emma did was to raise her lips from him and open her mouth wide. It was the one desire she’d never met; she’d never taken his seed in her mouth. The sight of her as he looked down his body was burned eternally into his mind.   Holding his gaze, she made him cum. His ejaculate shot out in fury and he screamed ‘Yes’ as some painted a lace pattern on her cheek but she worried to waste him and hurriedly took him back in her mouth as she continued to pump his cock, forcing the remaining cum in between her lips.

Emma released him as he slowly relaxed. She clambered over his body, positioning herself over his lap and letting her arousal warm his cock as it decided if it was done. She lay upon him and brought her mouth to his. As he moved to kiss her, she grasped his jaw and forced his mouth open and dribbled his cum from her mouth into his. With a gleam in her eye, Artor wouldn’t have resisted even had she permitted it. For all she had just done, it was a small penalty.

“Your turn!” Artor grinned, his own lips sticky with his seed.

Emma shook her head and her doe eyes looked sad. “Not here my love. Not now.” She lay down on him and whispered quietly “You have to come with me.”

Confused, Artor let her lay her head on his chest and brush his nipples with her palm as he asked what she meant.

“One day a year. I can have form for one day a year.” She raised her head and stared at him. “Every Christmas we can be here but between those days, we have to leave”

“I don’t want to leave, I want you here with me forever.” Artor’s pain bit back hard as he remembered anew the sense of loss when she had died. Though sad, Emma smiled. “You don’t understand. My love, we are to be together forever but… not here, you have to come with me this time.”

Emma drew back from him and clambered off the bed. She walked around the bed to stand near his head and as she held her hand out to him, a light grew behind her. The light was bright and brilliant, it shone with unnatural urgency and seem to be drawing closer.

“Come with me my Artor, be with me.”

Understanding dawned and the man let the tears that he wanted to keep away run down his cheeks. “I can’t go with you. I… I didn’t die!” The last words came out in a rush as he gulped air and his last restraint broke as he sobbed hard. Emma reached out one more time and her fingers brushed a tear away. She smiled at him.

“Oh my love, you did. We both did.” Artor frowned as Emma continued “You have been dead this past year. I have waited for you but you were not ready to leave; now is the time to leave. This Christmas is our forever.”

Again she reached out her hand and though still uncertain, Artor took her hand in his. He felt her love in that touch and he understood. He smiled and they left together.

2014 © C.J Heath

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