Sunday, October 12, 2008

Starstruck

A wee bit of fiction inspired by one of Alison Tyler's contests:

I stood in the corner of the club, hidden by smoky shadows and watching Jake as he prowled around the stage. For those few hours, he belonged to the crowd, but after the show—he was mine. That knowledge made it easier to absorb the sight of him singing to and flirting with big-breasted blondes. Those girls thought they had what he wanted, but they couldn’t be more wrong.

Jake wasn’t one for the quick backstage blowjob. The other guys in the band, however, were only too happy to accept these tokens of admiration. And I can hardly blame them. I wouldn’t have turned them down either. No, what my Jake wanted was entirely different.

After the final encore and the bartender’s shout of last call, I took Jake by the hand, leaving his smirking bandmates in our wake. By then they knew the score. They knew what I wanted—and what he needed.

We weaved our way through the crowd and headed out the back door to the club, where we stood in a trash-filled alley which was half-illuminated by moonlight. I shoved Jake up against the brick wall, and he gasped as I tore open his leather pants to reveal the black satin panties that he always wore during his gigs.

I dropped to my knees, mouthing his hard cock through the satin and inhaling the earthy scent of leather and sweat. Jake looked down at me, his wide brown eyes seeming even more pronounced from the eyeliner and mascara that he’d donned for his show. His breath came in irregular gasps as I teased his dick through that slick barrier, not really offering him any relief, but simply making his cock swell and his hunger grow.

I stood and looked him in the eyes—thanks to my four-inch heels we were nearly the same height. I pushed down on his shoulders, and he immediately dropped to his knees. “You know what to do,” I told him, and he wordlessly unzipped my pants. With shaking hands, he parted the denim and pulled out what he’d been waiting for all night: the purple dildo that I’d strapped on before I dressed for the night.

I placed my hands on his faux-hawk, tugging his gel-stiffened hair to bring his face closer to my dick. He eagerly opened his lips and slowly took me in. I rocked my hips back and forth, slowly feeding him more with each thrust and enjoying the sensation of the toy’s base hitting my swollen clit. I was tempted to let him take me all the way as he knelt in the dirt amid the cigarette butts and crushed beer cans, but I had a better plan.

When Jake had gotten the toy slick enough with his own saliva, I pulled him up and made him face the wall, so I could pull his leather pants and satin panties down to his knees. I spit onto my fingers and brought them between his cheeks, teasing his rear hole and making him groan as I stretched him out. When he seemed ready, I slipped the toy between his cheeks and eased it inside his back hole. Jake let out a slow, wordless moan as I penetrated him. As soon as he was used to the sensation, I started fucking him fast and hard. I’d already arranged for the bouncer to ensure that we had total privacy, but Jake didn’t know that. I knew in the back of his head, he was worried one of his groupies might sneak out back for a smoke and see me drilling him from behind. And I knew that fear was turning him on.

The toy was pushing deliciously up against my clit with each inward thrust. I wanted Jake to come as hard as I was going to, so I reached around and started stroking him in time with my bucking hips. I won the race, coming first with a shout, and he soon followed me, decorating the trash at his feet with his release.

After we straightened our clothes, Jake turned around and looked at me. His eye makeup was smeared and a single tear trailed down his cheek, but he had a sublime smile on his face.

I knew right away—that night was in our own personal top ten.

Gonna Grab Some...

afternoon delight
Wow! I'm beyond thrilled that my story "Chloe's Confession" is going to appear in Alison Tyler's Afternoon Delight. It's a fun little piece that features two of my favorite things: panties and spanking! Here's the awesome line-up for this collection, due out in March 2009:

After Midnight by Nikki Magennis
Early Birds by Rachel Kramer Bussel
Breakfast in Bed by Andrea Dale
Country Pleasures by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Forbidden Fruit by Ric Amadeus
Nooner by Bella Dean
Afternoon Delight EllaRegina
Chloe’s Confession by Sophia Valenti
Back When by A. Silenus
Popsicle in the Library by Zaedryn Meade
Morning, Noon, and Night by Alison Tyler
Welcome to the Neighborhood by Ariel Graham
Disco Queen by Sommer Marsden
StraightLaced by ADR Forte
To Feel Sexy by Jordana Winters
On Island Time by Kristina Wright
View of a Room Jason McFadden
Date at South Station by Xavier Acton
Knit One, Purl Two by Jacqueline Applebee
Matinee by Quinn Gabriel
Black Light by N.T. Morley
Night Shift by Rita Winchester
Square Loophole by Craig J. Sorensen
The Awakening by Jayne Pupek

How delightful!

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Who I Did on My Summer Vacation

Below is a slightly longer version of the summery sex tale I posted last week in the comments section of Trollop with a Laptop—the blog of the super-sexy Alison Tyler, who is sending me my very own copy of Rubber Sex! Thanks, Alison! She’s gifting little treasures from her porn closet all month, so stop by and visit. But, you know, nothing’s ever free. So be prepared to give as good as you’ll get. Spill your own sizzling secrets and dirty dreams. Come on, you know you want to.

Need inspiration? Close your eyes, breathe in the sweet scent of pine trees, sunscreen and…that cute coworker you’ve had a crush on for weeks:

Winner Spanks the Loser

During one summer break in college, I worked as a camp counselor. It was enjoyable, but the real fun happened during the last few days of August when only the adult counselors were left on premises. There was no one left to supervise and little work to do. We spent those days eyeing each other, searching for the opportunity to act on the attractions that had been simmering during the past twelve weeks.

On one of those sultry nights, I was hanging out in the rec room with Miranda, another counselor who was my age—we were both headed into our senior year at different universities. We were playing Ping-Pong, each round punctuated by tequila shots. I found myself staring at her butt each time she bent over to retrieve an errant ball. Her low-rise short-shorts hugged her ass in a really sexy way, and the top of her tiny thong poked out of her waistband every time she moved. Okay, maybe I was a little sloppy with my shots because I liked watching her chase that little ball all around the floor. Her curly hair bounced as she ran and left a fragrant trail of sweet perfume lingering in her wake. Soon the whole cabin smelled like a tempting mix of Miranda and coconut suntan lotion.

After the first game, we started making bets: the loser had to finish the other’s paperwork or carry her luggage to the bus—things like that. But as the night wore on, I was having trouble coming up with chaste suggestions. Swinging that red-rubber coated paddle was giving me some seriously dirty ideas. I couldn’t stop imagining bending her over that table and swatting the haughty little rear of this Ivy-league honor student.

And from the way Miranda began looking me over, I got the idea that she was thinking the same kind of naughty thoughts as me. So when it was my turn to call the stakes again, I suggested that the winner spank the loser. She quickly agreed. In the end, I won. I’m not entirely sure she didn’t throw the match, but as soon as she lowered those shorts and wiggled her butt at me, I didn’t care.

I’d expected her to thrust her bottom out at me playfully and take a swat or two, but that wasn’t what she was after. Grabbing the edge of the table, she encouraged me to spank her hard, and I did, enjoying the sound of the rubber slapping against her skin and the sight of her pale ass going from pale pink to cherry red. The color looked even more intense when compared to the white thong that was nestled between her perfect cheeks. Before long, she was moaning loudly and swaying her ass back and forth, offering me a more tempting target. When she spread her legs slightly, I could see the fabric of her panties was starting to darken as it moistened with her honey. Every swat made me even more turned on.

When the sight became too much for me, I tossed the paddle aside and knelt on the floor at her feet. I yanked her panties down, extricating them from her wet cleft. She moaned again when she felt the cool air hit her wet skin. Miranda bucked back toward me, and I dove in hungrily. I began licking her puffy clit and fucking her sweet hole with two overlapped fingers, making her shiver and come in no time. As she shook through her orgasm, her knees grew weak and her pussy mashed against my lips as she lost control. I lapped up all of her juice until she finally caught her breath and pulled away from me, demanding to return the favor.

I perched myself on the edge of the table, and Miranda raised my skirt above my hips, smiling when she saw that I wasn’t wearing any undies. My mind kept replaying the sight of her blushing ass and the sound of the paddle smacking her defenseless behind. Those memories, combined with her rapidly flicking tongue, soon sent me over the edge. My cries of orgasm echoed throughout the empty cabin as I ground my pussy against her pink lips.

I never saw Miranda again, but since that night I’ve never looked at a Ping-Pong paddle the same way again…