Fiction – Cream and Honey

I came round slowly , feeling slightly nauseous and disorientated. It took a minute or so for me to take stock of my situation; I appeared to be lying in a darkened room, strapped naked to some kind of bed or couch. The room felt warm and inviting – candles flickered around the edges, and soft music was playing in the background. Moving slightly against my restraints, I smiled and waited.

I did not have to wait long until a door in the far corner out of my immediate line of sight opened and I could hear footsteps and rustling. It was impossible to determine how many people had entered the room – three, maybe four? I shivered slightly despite the warmth, and could feel every hair on my body stand erect, as did my nipples.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the low light levels, I made out four masked figures approaching me, wearing what looked like hooded hotel dressing gowns. They stood in formation, two either side of the bed, and let their gowns fall to the floor. To my right stood two brunettes, one petite, small-breasted and olive-skinned, the other taller, more curvaceous with the most beautiful pale ivory skin. I smiled in recognition, but they both managed to keep their eyes firmly ahead and did not make eye contact.

To my left, a blonde woman with a nipple piercing, unknown to me,  stood next to a curly-haired redhead. They too stared straight ahead, neither acknowledging me or the other women in the room, seeminly awaiting further instruction. Just then the door opened again and another hooded figure entered. My breath quickened and my heart started beating faster as I recognised the familiar build and gait.

He approached the bed and I noticed he too was wearing a mask. He produced a plastic carrier bag and handed out what appeared to be a pastry brush to each of the four women. He then proceeded to produce  four pots of what looked like honey, which he put down on the bed in front of each of the women, gesturing to them to begin.

As each of the women in turn opened the pots, I held my breath, anticipating what was going to happen next. I felt the familiar swelling of the blood rushing to my pussy and almost let out an involuntary sigh. Each of the women dipped their brushes into the pots and started to paint me – starting at the end of each limb. The brushing sensation tickled my toes, and I wriggled, but the restraints that held me to the bed did not allow much escape. One by one the little pastry brushes lathered on the thick, sticky substance – on my toes and fingers, my hands and feet, then along my arms and legs.

All this time I was so preoccupied with trying to see and feel what was happening to me that I had not paid any attention to the man at the end of the bed. I became conscious of the fact that the way my legs were tied to the bed must be giving him a fabulous view of my swollen labia. I blushed at the thought of how he must be able to sense my arousal, for I could already smell the familiar musky scent of my juices myself.

His cock was already firm in his hand as he watched the scene in front of him, growing stiffer and harder as his eyes swept over my naked body, and those of the other women in the room. He stroked the shaft in the same rhythm as the women stroked my body with the hairs of their brushes.

The brushes were reaching the clefts of my limbs now – getting closer to both my naked breasts and the meeting at the tops of my legs. Cupping his balls in his hands, and pulling more firmly on his cock, I could see the tell-tale signs of arousal in the man. I knew the sight of me lying helpless, displaying my arousal to him and to four other women would turn him on so much that he was unable to delay his orgasm.

I could feel my own heart pounding as the teasing, swirling sensation of the brushes around my nipples increased my own arousal. The women had obviously been instructed to stay away from my clit though, for hard as I tried to twist and turn and maneuver myself into place to have them brush me there, they only laughed and pulled away from me.

Yanking frantically on his shaft, the man let out a series of tell-tale moans that announced his coming orgasm. Hot jets of milky cum spurted all over me, and splashed the redhead who was closest to him. The blonde woman grinned, and continued painting my nipples, mixing the milky cum in with the sticky honey. When I thought I could no longer stand the teasing, I felt two brushes finally brush the lips of my pussy. Mixing honey with my juices and the sticky semen, the women laughed and started painting faster.

Suddenly I realised it was not just brush strokes touching my body, as I felt fingers start to trace the outline of my waist and hips. I realised hands, brushes, and tongues were mixing together just like the different substances I was now covered in.They hungrily licked the honey and the cum from my body, spreading it into cracks and orifices, and delighting in removing it again.

I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensation of one mouth on each of my nipples, and different fingers probing and teasing between my legs. The feeling of both my nipples and my clit being sucked at the same time was too much for me, and my body shuddered to climax.

As the women turned their attention to each other, the man -who had stepped back to watch from the shadows – approached me again. Lifting his mask up, he kissed me long and deep on the mouth.

“Happy birthday, darling”

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Don’t put that in your mouth, you don’t know where it’s been!

A little while ago, I watched a documentary about a 17 year old thinking of “giving up” her virginity. Firstly, I have to say I was impressed with the maturity that both she and her parents approached the matter. I certainly made a few notes on how to deal with things for when my kids are old enough. Secondly, however, I have to admit that I did also find her matter-of-factness about the whole thing rather intimidating. I get the impression I spent more time fretting about whether to wear my green top or my pink top on a night out than I think she did on the whole “I’m going to go get myself laid” thing.

Anyway, I digress. We followed said teen at the end of her first “girls’ holiday” to somewhere warm and Balearic. Had she done the deed, asked the presenter? No, came the response, but she did give someone a blow job behind a nightclub – and get this; SHE WASN’T EVEN PARTICULARLY DRUNK.

I have to say I was astounded. To go from nought to blow-job in a week is certainly impressive, but it left me wondering why. Part of me understands the logic of “it’s not sex unless there’s penetration” thinking of it, yet I couldn’t help wondering what possessed an apparently reasonably intelligent young woman to suck on the first random cock that was conveniently near her mouth? There was certainly no mention of the favour having been returned at any point, for example.

Don’t get me wrong, I love sucking on a nice juicy cock as much as the next girl (maybe more, depending who she is), but I couldn’t help thinking that the order was somehow slightly wrong. You see, in my yoof, the general turn of events went something like – snogging, groping, heavy petting/fingering, penetration, and only then oral sex.

To me, there’s an added intimacy to oral sex that would mean I probably wouldn’t dream of partaking in a one-night stand, whether behind a night club or not. (I can’t be the only one thinking SWEATY, UNWASHED cock here either, can I?). Don’t even get me started on the subject of protection…at least you can demand a condom if getting properly down and dirty (and let’s face it, I don’t know anybody who has ever used a flavoured condom during a blow job).

A straw poll of…er…my hairdresser has confiremed to me that I’m not completely alone in this thinking.

Am I missing something, or just showing my age?

Kinky Shoes of the Week- Office Kurly whirly multi snake pu

I am intrigued by the name of this week’s shoe, so I shall attempt to break it down as best I can:

– kurly whirly, yes, I see there is a whirl thing going on with the strap. Interesting spelling – rebellious, I get it.

– multi snake, also reasonably straightforward, different coloured snakeskin pattern, yes

-pu. This one has me stumped. Pu? Do they mean pooh? A favourite of those who have a prediliction for anal sex, maybe? Whatever it means, I hope you’ll agree they are a mighty fine sandal, which is why they are the kinky shoes seal of approval this week.

Fiction – #wankwednesday – Flame

This is my first ever attempt for the #wankwednesday link-up over at Word Ejaculation (so be gentle with me!). It seemed appropriate that wanking was involved for #wankwednesday…

This week’s prompt is Flame.

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Maria showered after work. The sticky heat of that summer made showering twice a day a minimum. As she wrapped the towel around herself and went into the bedroom, she remembered the conversation with her colleague; “I don’t know how you can live in a basement apartment”, Anita had said, “I’d forever be worrying about who might be able to get in”.

Maria had brushed off the comments, it was something she preferred not to really think about. It was not like she had a choice – living in the city was expensive, she had to take what she could afford.

She made her way into the bedroom and dried herself absent-mindedly. As she wiped the towel over her breasts she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Almost from nowhere, she could feel desire building inside her. It surprised her completely, for it had been a long time since her libido had made an appearance.

She lit a candle on the bedside table, and busied herself with getting herself ready for her meeting’s the next day, laying out her clothes neatly on a chair. The sensation of being naked was by no means unknown to her, yet tonight something in the air made her aware of every step she took. As her thighs brushed together, she could feel tell-tale wetness seeping between her legs.

Sitting down on the bed, Maria had the strangest sensation that she was being watched. Glancing towards the window, everything seemed normal, yet she could still sense a presence. The thought did not frighten her, however, instead it only seemed to spur her on. She leant back and spread her legs, enjoying the brief rush of air on her moist pussy.

Closing her eyes, she started playing with her breasts, slowly circling the areola with her middle finger, and gently letting it brush her nipple. “Are you watching this?” she wondered silently to the presence outside her window, pinching her nipples harder now, as she imagined a mouth sucking on them.

As the throbbing between her legs became too much, she delved her hand into the sticky juices, bringing them back up to her mouth and tasting herself. Looking at the darkened window she felt the desire being reflected back, and with an urgency and passion she had not felt in a long time, Maria played and teased, bringing herself closer and closer to orgasm. With a final rub of her clit, she cried out and lay back, exhausted.

After a few minutes to calm herself, she got up, threw on a dressing gown, blew out the candle and went into the kitchen for a drink. The little moth that had been stuck at her window flew off as she extinguished the flame.

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Read all the Wank Wednesday erotic writing for Flame on Word Ejaculation

Fiction – Thursday Rendezvous

The text came at 9.30, just after she had got back from the school run.

My meeting’s been cancelled. Am in the area. You around?

Her heart leapt. Yes, she texted back, Need to go out again at 2.30, so any time before then.

She let him in wordlessly, and they padded to the kitchen, where she put the kettle on and he griped about his boss. They took their tea to the living room, and sat down on the sofa, their legs entwined in a position of ease that surprised her. Over the course of the next half an hour, they slowly sank further into the cushions, until they were lying next to each other. They laughed and joked about colleagues of his and acquaintances of hers, and she ran her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

His hand on her waist, he pushed her top up slowly, stroking the curve of her waist as they finally kissed. “I can’t. Not here.”, she said, trying to resist the electricity in his touch. His breathing grew heavier and he started to unbutton her top, and her resistance was half-hearted. The low-cut bra she was wearing made it easy for him to grasp her nipples between his fingers, and she moaned as he took one in his mouth. She tried not to think about his cock straining against the material of his trousers, but the feeling of it against her leg made it impossible. As he kissed and sucked, she closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations.

Moving his hand lower, he unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slipped his hand inside her soaking knickers. She held her breath as he delved his middle finger into the wetness between her legs. The first touch made her shiver. “Lower”, she whispered, and he smiled, angling his finger into the exact position she demanded. He rubbed her clit, gently at first, then with more urgency in line with her breathing, dipping in and out of the wet juices of her entrance, parting her lips and exploring every inch.

In the end she was surprised by how quickly she came – she couldn’t recall the last time it had been this rapid, or this intense. As soon as the waves of pleasure subsided, she could feel the tears of guilt run down her face.