Posts tagged myerotica
Posts tagged myerotica
NEW EROTIC STORY…
The Bath, by SB.
Read here —->
1001 Erotic Lights posted my story “The Bath”, which perhaps I need to read again…I wouldn’t mind a little visceral fantasy stimulation this afternoon. I received a good fucking this morning, but I confess (to the ether), I am ready for more.
NEW EROTIC STORY….
The Visitation, by SB.
Read here —> 1001eroticlights.tumblr.com/erotica
Thank you so much for posting, 1001 Erotic Lights! Thank you to The Erotic Lightbox, a wonderful blog with an author who shows true talent for erotic writing.
~ *** NEW*** The Visitation, by SB. ~ D/s Role-Play at the Westwood W, by XU. ~ Jonas & Rose in Brazil, Part I, by XU. ~ An Erotic Massage in Hong Kong, by XU. EROTIC HAIKU Note with a waxed seal What…
Check out this wonderful cache of erotic writing! The Muses were kind enough to post one of my very first stories, which can be found here.
He moaned that I have an innocent face, such an innocent face, such innocent eyes, before he came on my lips until it was dripping from them and trailing down my chin and over my collarbone….
He crawled up onto the bed. He took her. Hungrily, he spread her legs, slipping her panties down below her knees, dragging his tongue between her fleshy cunt lips to lick her open, to taste her honey there already flowing, and he took her.
Dive onto me, into me, my back pulled into a gentle arch, arms pulled back, your teeth tightening around a circle of my flesh. You make me feel your need to ravish, to allow your fire to burn, to free your soul to consume, to let the hunger roam free and unbridled.
At quarter til 11 she found she had sunk into the sort of sleepy reverie that assails one after a long day, a tired day, as after several glasses of wine, but it was with a sleepy quiet contentment that she felt her mind slip for a moment into a consciousness of her own body. With a gentle arch of her back, she shrugged her shoulders high, stretching upwards, legs pushing in the opposite direction, limber, but her mind somehow concentrated on every fiber of her being. The sensuousness of her thoughts were sunk into the knowledge of her body as deep as a secret, hidden archaeology of something that would never, could never be discovered even generations later, a sensuous connection of mind and body that could only be ascertained in the present, tapped into, as one might tap into a hidden spring on a mountainside. She delighted in that feeling. She slipped her hand between thighs, parted, cupping her Venetian delta in her open palm, throwing her head back, pausing for a moment before she found that irresistible pleasure-center, that promise (if pursued) of the event horizon that would take one into the deeper, darker returns on the road to blissful oblivion. It was just a touch, a soft caress on the underside of black lace, but the index finger drawn over fleshy lips, middle finger dipping into the already moistening cleft between, and the hard pearl of her clit made promises enough to draw her onward. Head falling back, her lips parted involuntary, and her tongue drew moisture along her lips….first one than the other. This almost unconscious action always produced the very conscious vision of his cock pressing between her moistened lips and so she sighed and sank deeper into the blissful arch towards her wanton, salacious thoughts. Bringing a finger to her mouth, she spit gently on it before sinking it under the lace, immediately and irresolutely finding her already hardened pearl, tilting hips upward to spread herself open with knees parted, giving her own fingers the access required to tease herself towards single-minded pleasure. She was surprised and pleased to feel with her fingertips how quickly her fingers were made dripping wet by her own body, and she pushed her fingers in a little deeper before drawing them up to her lips for a taste, for the scent, for the curious, sensual-minded meandering questions of whether he would find her fragrance desirable, heady, full of the earthiness of her sex, were he here to enjoy her body tonight.
She was on their bed, and even if he was away, she could smell the scent of his skin on the sheets when she fell back against the edge of the mattress. Her head slipped backwards against the outside crease of the mattress, head tilting backwards in such a way that her mouth parted slightly, her tongue again licking lips alive with sensuousness and lascivious need. The scent of his body filled her senses, obliterating everything else so that in her mind’s palpable fantasy she felt him on top of her, her lace panties pulled down, knees parted, his cock finding her and forcing his way into her, almost brutally, the lust and craving so intense. She wanted him to want her that badly, to need to take her so forcibly. There was something about that unbridled lust that, in concert with her fingers bowing against her musical clitoris, as if playing a concert cello, made her body hum melodically and irrevocably towards the tremulous waves of orgasm that she craved. She pushed down, the pressure intensifying the sensations, and she dragged her fantasy along in her mind, picturing his view of her, the way his hands tugged at her lingerie, her flesh yielding, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted, her tongue against his skin as he grasped her thighs and pressed them open, pressed them simultaneously down against the cotton sheets. Fingers rubbed against the outer edge of her clit, pressing, the pressure building, and she laughed a sensuous giggle, delighting in the signals that told her just how aroused she was, just how *close* before she’d hardly even begun. And sighing, she let her head fall back again, lips parted.
With the heart-stopping stillness that overcomes someone when confronted with the sudden knowledge that one is not alone, she realized all at once that there was someone in the room with her. Had the door opened? Had she been so lost, so oblivious as to not feel the draft? It had to be him. It could only be him. But she kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, wanting to feel the slight danger of not really knowing, of being perilously close to the edge of orgasm and so completely vulnerable. In this state of undress and pleasurable sensation, it almost mimicked drunkenness, and she abandoned herself to it, so heightened were her sensations already. Eyes tightly closed, she imagine what he saw: porcelain white skin with the dark black of satin and lace lingerie, suspenders pressing into her thigh and tugging lace-topped silk stockings, her fingers creating a bulge beneath that hid the silky wetness of her spread open cunt, reddened already from her caresses and dripping with her juices. She arched, throat achingly wanting, craving his hands around its exposed, taut curvature. Was this even him? Or was it a stranger who had happened upon her? She trusted it was him but she wouldn’t open her eyes. It titillated her to no end to experience the limbo between questioning the present body and craving him. She felt his hand on her throat. She smelled him. She licked her lips, begging him without words but with pink tongue against flesh, and as his grip tightened and she heard the quiet muttering words of lusty desire, she felt the fleshy head of his cock against her mouth. She complied, opening eagerly. She arched, belying her own neediness, unless it was to be interpreted moreso as a sexual passion continuously seeking pathways to expression. A deep breath filled her lungs and she pressed hips upward, arching backwards into a deeper bend, opening her throat. It surprised her, the force of his cock pushing back into her mouth, despite the fact that she’d been waiting for just such an act. He pulled his fingers through her hair slowly and then suddenly tightened his fist, holding her head against his hips as he thrust in again. Shoulders pushed backwards, downwards towards the floor, she lifted her hips so that her feet were flat on the mattress, so that she could feel her body flowering open all the more, hopefully providing the length in her throat that was necessary. He tugged again at her hair and moaned as her tongue wrapped circles around his cock, lips sucking vigorously at his cockhead as he sped up and slowed his thrusts according to his needs.
Vocal encouragement only egged her on and she bent her body all the more, despite her eyes locked shut, and she gasped and focused on his shaft pressed into her mouth, sliding in and out now, more and more quickly. Pushing back into her, the length made her gag, tears springing to her eyes, but her tongue continued to swirl and work at him, her fingers slapping and rubbing against her own clitoris as he pressed inot her mouth as if it were her own imminently fuckable cunt. She felt the deepening intensity of a body so close to orgasm, her own. His one hand gripping her hair, the other on her throat, he slid the second palm to her exposed breast, tugging at an erect nipple, his voice erupting in guttural, simple proclamations: “those tits”, “fuckable cunt”, “that fucking tongue”, and simple utterances of possession: “mine”, all his primal needs splayed before him.
He thrust again and again into her open mouth and throat, pressing in, even holding her head against him as he thrust, filling her greedy, eager mouth with his cock, the same cock she craved and pined for when he was not with her. He knew this, relished it, and it drove him onward in his own pathway towards release. Her body grew suddenly distracted, rigid, as she abruptly arched towards the wave that crashed through her own body, moaning deeply in a low, visceral moan. But his strokes into her mouth were ceaseless and unyielding as she came, and he did not pause while she experienced her own tremulous orgasm, knowing it only heightened her pleasure to continue to use her, if you could call it that, to his own end. She could feel how hard he was and her hand traveled deftly from her throbbing clit to his balls so she could caress, so she could tease. If he could have tied her wrists together at this point, he would have, so focused was his need to take advantage of this creature before him, weakened by her own climax. And there was no shame in this, the archetypal desire to dominate and fuck and explode into the mouth of the woman before him. He gripped her. He grit his teeth and looked at her while her eyes finally fluttered open to reveal clear eyes, her mouth full with his shaft pressing between her lips. He read everything he needed to from the expression in her eyes. When he pulled out she looked up in surprise, her face melting into a state of sublime abandon when, continuing to stroke his own shaft, white rivulets of cum began to pour from him onto her mouth and cheeks. She flicked her tongue up over her lips, seeking his taste, her eyes searching his face as he clenched in the fits of orgasm, just one deep moan escaping from him. He pulled at his shaft just once more and the bubbles of milky cum burst over her skin to her great pleasure, just finally letting her milk the last drops from the tip, her tongue flicking into its crevice to ensure every last drop had been savored.
He held himself up for a moment, eyes closed, his hands relaxing enough to release her hair and to rest a palm against her cheek. In her mind he was saying “Hi honey, I’m home”, and perhaps he was echoing this in his mind too, and she laughed and pulled him into bed with her.
A low whimper escaped from her glossy lips as she felt the pressure of his hand around her throat. It was the words he whispered in her ear, however, that nearly took her breath away, that moistened her black lace panties, that made her knees grow weak such that for a moment he had to hold her to keep her from sinking to the floor. And then he guided her down. And as his hard cock slid between her lips, her tongue licking them and running down the flesh of his shaft, she felt again a pressure against her throat that she craved just as much, though this time it was from within.
We take a walk in the park during his lunch break, stopping to sit on a bench together, warm in the soft spring sunshine. As I crawl up onto his lap, my shoes drop onto the new spring grass one after the other, and somehow the feeling of shoeless feet excites me and I wiggle up further onto his lap. He smells my perfume, the deeper sensual scent I wear in tandem to the lavender in my hair. As I hug him tight, he nuzzles his nose against my throat and my collarbone, and I feel his hand slide up over my thigh. I press harder against him until I feel that longed for hardness beneath his trousers, and suddenly I am even more excited. Now my mind is fixated on his hardening cock, the precum that could be there, the way his flesh tastes and feels against my tongue. I search for his mouth with mine, wanting to bite gently into his lower lip, to remind him of how much I desire him, how much I ache to be filled by him. The world around us disappears and it becomes irrelevant whether someone could be watching. The whole universe has disappeared except for him and me. His hand becomes everything, sliding up under my skirt, my tongue finding his, bodies swooning and flushing and aching in the sensual intoxication.. He whispers a word I’ve never heard him utter, and moans in my ear as he buries his face in my hair. That hand, that hand, that hand. As I grind against his cock, now rock hard against my pelvis, my legs straddling him now, that hand of his slides up further under my dress until he finds my lace panties. He knows I wore them just for him. He knows the care I take in preparing for him. But now they are inconsequential and only there to be pushed aside, for that finger, or fingers, to slide up into my silky wet cunt, now clenching around his fingers, begging for his cock. Oh, my whole body is begging for him.
I did think I was all alone, Sir. I didn’t expect anyone to find me in a place so remote, but now that you have found me…….
Since you seem to be in such a comfortable position, would you like me to pour you some wine and feed you?
Why yes, i would absolutely love that. oooohh…i love how you draw the cold grapes down over my nipples, making me shiver and moan gently. I can see that only one or two sips of wine and I will be melting into your arms.
It is not just the wine. The air around us is intoxicating. As I inch closer to you on the blanket, your breath…intermingling with the aroma of the wine…is warm and sweet. I notice an errant droplet of wine escaping the corner of your mouth. For a moment, I thought to capture it with my finger before it trails down your chin. Instead, I concluded that my tongue would be the far better choice to accomplish that task.
When your lips meet mine, a soft moan escapes my lips, and my tongue finds yours in an explosion of bliss. Slowly, my hand reaches towards you, touching you gently, and you lower your body over mine. Your lips, in that kissing caress, communicate a sweet tenderness that builds to a passionate urgency. My lips, wine-stained, sweet, soft, serve only to fuel your hunger….and mine.
The moment your moist lips and searching tongue meet mine I am struck blinded by the sheer, immediate passion of our connection. It is not clumsy and awkward like some encounters can be when overcome with such an intense wash of sensations. No. It is as if everything slows down. My lips can decipher the creases in yours. My tongue is alive with every wet and slippery slither as we share how the other feels and tastes. Synapses pop, flash and fire behind my closed eyes. It is like I am about to pass out. You breathe heavily from your nose and I inhale, taking your essence deep inside of me. A shared lifeforce is passing freely and openly between us. Balancing on my left arm, I raise and lower my right hand slowly on to your awaiting flesh. I caress your left breast. Immediately your nipple tightens and hardens. You moan and lightly, teasingly, clamp down on my lower lip with your teeth. You arch your back and raise your pelvis to grind up against me…all of me.
I can feel instantly how my body responds to you, so instantaneously, so readily. I arch to meet the curve of your pelvis with mine, my hips pressing upwards in concert to the coaxing motion of your body. The energy passing through us is palpable, circling through our mouths to the fire in our bellies. Intoxicated by your feverish desire, my legs part imperceptibly, and I unconsciously reach between my milky white thighs, finding the soft river of my velvet cleft. A subtle groan vibrates into your mouth as you kiss me, for I am overwhelmed with sensuality, with need, with the aching desire to fuse now….completely….with you.
Your white hot lust roils off of you and permeates through me and into me. My lips kiss your right cheek and my tongue licks down your neck. I lightly drag my rough chin across your collarbone and down the outside of your breast. My mouth envelopes your right nipple. My tongue licks and teases her to glistening hardness. I gently kiss the valley between your breasts and then give your left nipple the same attention. You writhe beneath me unable to keep still, rapidly loosing the control you are so desperately trying to maintain. Your hands are clenching the blanket, tugging and pulling at it like an imprisoned animal would pull against its chain. You release your grip and attempt to grab my hair. My short cropped style affords no hand hold so you again attack the blanket. I proceed to kiss, nibble and lick down your smooth belly, nuzzling your navel with my nose and tongue.
I am moaning in short gasps as you trail your tongue down along my belly and towards my dark mound. As I acquiesce to your teasing torments, a sensation of delight rises within me, and I find I only want more and more of you. My knees open as you sink between my legs, your body long and lithe sliding back into the grass. I feel your hot breath on my mons, and I watch you as you close your eyes and breathe me in, the scent of this aroused woman beneath you. When your tongue lightly begins to stroke along the sweet cleft of my pussy, opening me and releasing my nectar, I throw my head back, gasping. Your tongue, warm and soft, and wet, is like magic, the feeling every woman craves, the deliciousness of being opened and tasted and the blissful sensations sending sweet shivers up my spine. My throat arched, I squeeze my eyes shut, hands reaching towards your cropped hair, and I stroke your head and ears absent-mindedly, giving over everything to your ministrations.