by Mick Collins
She walked into the office, her heels clicking as she walked. As she reached me we kissed.
“God it’s good to see you.”
“Shhh” and she put her finger over my lips. She turned around and closed the office door. As she walked back she took off her jacket
and tossed it on couch. She pulled out the chair in front of my desk and sat down in front of me. She had a tan skirt that crept up past
her knees as she crossed her legs. My eyes trailed up her legs to her white blouse that was unbuttoned just enough to see a little. A
little higher up I notice she was smiling at me. “Like what you see?”
“Of course I do.”
“Show you what?”
She leaned forward and said deliberately. “Show. me. that. you. like. this.” Her manicured hand traced a line down her shirt and popped
open another button.
“Uhh… um, how do you, I mean, what can I do to show you?”
“Drop your pants.” I glanced at the door. It was shut, but not locked. “Go on…”
I slipped my shoes off and undid my belt. I unbuttoned my pants and they fell to the floor. Standing there in front of her in only my
boxer-briefs she could clearly see my erection.
“NOW I know you like it. The cock doesn’t lie.” She stood up and walked around me. Standing behind me she whispered in my ear. “take
them off.” I swallowed hard, closed my eyes and slid my underwear down my legs. She reached around and slid her fingers down my
erection. “Mmmm… I like that.”
She walked around back in front of me and turned around. Looking over her shoulder she said “Unzip me.” I quickly reached out to unzip her and she quickly slapped my hand. “What did I teach you last time? What’s the proper way to undo my zippers?” I blushed furiously and knelt down so that her ass was right in my face. I reached out with my teeth and grabbed hold of her zipper and pulled down. Her skirt fell around her feel revealing her red panties.
She kicked the skirt away and while turning around slide her blouse off. I was now kneeling in front of her while she stood there in only
her red lace bra, matching panties and red heels. I could feel my heart pounding. I kept staring at her panties, knowing what was
underneath that thin layer of lace. She reached down and lifted my chin so I was looking at her face. “Go ahead… I know you want to.”
I reached up and slid her panties down.
She sat down in the chair and spread her legs wide. “C’mon, I don’t have all day.” I crept forward and starting gently eating her pussy.
She pushed her hips into my face and I started eating her out more enthusiastically. God I loved the way she tasted. “Mmmm… well I’ll
say one things for sure… I’m damn glad I kept you if for no other reason than this…” I was proud of how well I could please her.
I continued to lick her pussy for a few minutes. Her breath started getting ragged and she wrapped her legs around my head keeping it in place. She didn’t need to. I loved it, I wasn’t going anywhere. I slipped two fingers inside her and that drove her over the edge and I
could feel her pussy clamp down on my fingers as her legs squeezed my head. Finally she let go and fell back on my heels.
She put her foot right in my chest and with a quick push with her red stiletto I was flat on my back. She stood up and stood over me.
“Let’s see if that cock is as good as your tongue.” She lowered herself onto my hard cock. My cock was enveloped in her hot wet
pussy. She rode my cock for just a minute or two. Between seeing her this way and then eating her out I couldn’t wait much longer.
Suddenly she stopped. Breathlessly she said “Nononono… not yet… that’s not your cock, that’s MY cock… and I’ll decide when it cums.”
She dragged her nails across my chest as she clenched onto my cock with her pussy. I couldn’t believe how much control she had over it.
I could feel my cock throbbing inside of her.
Finally after a minute or so she started her fucking again. Riding my cock like it was a sex toy. I lost count of how many times she pushed
me right to the edge of cumming before denying me. Might have been 3… might have been 4. Each time she’d stop and snicker at me. The
desperation on my face was plain to see. “What’s the matter, baby… something you want?” I nodded vigorously. “C’mon… tell me… tell
me what you want.”
“I wanna cum…” I whispered.
“What? I can’t hear you…”
“Please… please let me cum…” I said a little louder.
“Let you cum? Who’s cock is that?” she dragged her nails across my chest, this time a little harder leaving slight red lines.
“It’s yours. Can you please let your cock cum? please…” I felt her pussy grip my cock… her cock. Squeezing hard she started her
fucking again and I couldn’t last any longer.
“Cum for me baby… cum!” Her cock shot its load inside her and my body went rigid. She layed down on top of me. Kissed me and then
While I was recovering I saw her putting her skirt and blouse back on.
I literally couldn’t move. She picked up her jacket and slipped it on. Then she reached down and picked up my underwear… “You won’t be
needing these… Here…” She dropped her panties on my face… “You can wear those over my cock.”
She turned and walked out the door. I finally stood up and looked at her panties. Sighing I slipped them on and got dressed, knowing I’d
never stop thinking about her so long as I had them on. I didn’t really mind.
I have a love for black and white erotic photo’s, sometimes just suggestive ones but on occasion, mood depending, nothing hits the spot like a graphic image. As a tumblr addict I enjoy hours of surfing through blogs finding the images that appeal to me and as the months go on I am getting fussier and fussier about what I choose to reblog; I appreciate that my taste is my own and I’m no expert, just sometimes the smallest detail can put me off a picture even if it appeals to me generally.
I do love a picture to tell a story so my mind can reel a little fleshing out the details, I started a tumblr to reblog pictures which explicitly suggested further storytelling merits to me, it’s like a place to file images for future reference.
But it isn’t where it started. A lovely friend of mine introduced me to Tumblr earlier this year and I have never looked back. I created my own personal smut fest now called The Darker Side of a Lady.
I’d always been very disappointed in porn previously, with a very few exceptions it really isn’t produced for women, or at least not for me. I find most of it trashy, the storylines are terrible and the Stupid Noises some of those people make EEeeewwwww!!
Since I discovered tumblr though, I know I can watch porn and get ‘off” on it. “How?” you ask – easy, I turn the contrast to black and white and the sound down… this works for me 😉
I love mixing black and white photos in with beautiful vivid colour shots, often tumblr is best viewed in archive mode, it gives me a sense of balance to trace colours across a mostly black and white screen.
and then sometime in my quieter moments certain pictures really hit the spot.
Or make me laugh…
or just take my breath away!
Everyone should have a Tumblr or 5!
Tell me, Where is yours?
I’ve been asked;
Is it the thought of sex or sex itself that is more powerful for you?
It’s an intriguing question, one which I have spent a fair amount of time considering.
The thoughts of sex?
I do think about sex a lot, sex and entanglement, of emotion, of desire. The flirtatious firsts, kissing, touching, words spoken, body language, the unwritten signs, sexual chemistry. The inner workings, thought patterns, lack of thought patterns. Deeper still; the movement, texture, smell, sound. At some point during everything I write I pause and think, what is she thinking, did he like that, is this working…
What turns me on, what turns me off…
Scenarios of sex play through my mind, stories need to brew until they over boiling from my head. I actually find it hard to write to a prompt or on a specific day, for personal reasons writing erotica on a Friday or at the weekend is much harder for me. Which is why I try extra hard to join in with the prompted time related writing – it’s the masochistic streak in me.
Words fill my mind, I find a lot of writers don’t read, to a degree I’m guilty of that too, I have my favourite blogs that I try (and usually fail) to keep up with, they are not all erotic blogs, often human interest – people intrigue me, will she, won’t she, has he? These thoughts are ultimately about sex (or money.)
I have a deep passion for carefully constructed seductive words. If I find an erotic writer who articulately expresses their writing in a way that makes my mind reel and body react I will read everything they write. Words go through my head and my body follows. The way to my passion is through words. I appreciate their danger like so few others.
Thoughts of sex are extremely powerful. In my head sex is exciting and positive, enthralling and beguiling. Nothing ever turns me off because I won’t let it happen, it’s all rose tinted and perfect even when it’s messy and squelchy, dirty and nasty – it all flows perfectly.
Is fabulous, it contains everything my kookie mind dreams up because I do like putting my thoughts into actions, my other half is open to suggestions but to be honest he is just as good at coming up with ideas and feeling how he goes as I am.
Putting him aside for a moment and considering the question from the angle my friend wanted to know about.
Sex actually can be hard to get right, so many things can let you down. New partners although exciting a prospect do not flow like holywood movie stars, not everything will click, whilst this can be fun to fathom out it can also be difficult if you don’t know how to communicate your need, how do you say ‘actually that isn’t working’ in the full throng of fellatio ;-0
Someone says the wrong thing, misinterprets your mood, bodily functions interrupt the atmosphere. There might be too much light, not enough light, the music isn’t getting you off, you drank too much, you didn’t drink enough!
As I have said before, I’m a Venusian and things on Venus are much more refined then on Mars, or Earth for that matter, can a woman who dreams of perfect ever expect that to happen in real life with all it’s uncomfortable limb entangled, misunderstanding, farting, coughing, finding a stray pubic hair in your mouth mess that is REALITY??
Well, it has happened so why should it not happen again *smirks*
Now whilst you might think this answers his question and the thought is more alluring then the act I’d like to add that my friend also asked me:
Is the thought of having an affair…. the daydreams… fantasies….. better than the real thing…. in the long run.
and to be honest with you my dear I have no idea… Is having an affair a good idea at all? Would it not be better off being in the open? A consensual arrangement between partners of an acknowledged physical need for variety? In my dreams…
Some would say no. Because of the emotional attachment that seems to get involved, the longing, the desire, the haunting feeling that comes of not being able to have the one person you want. The futility of knowing what you have however good it was before may never be right again, not to mention living with the guilt, the betrayal.
Some would say yes. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline, the discovery of a new person, the potential of fulfillment….
Sexual utopia for me would perhaps be a place where experimentation with other people is permissive IF the parties concerned were able to separate their feelings from the act, in my experience this is a rare occurrence.
I can’t help thinking that the more I think about sex and having sex, the thought of lovers and being the object of someones desire , of being wanted, held and loved for the sake of the moment the more questions I find I have…
To my friend who asked the question I’d say that any conclusions I may ever reach on the subject – and finding a conclusion is not looking good – would only ever apply to me in that moment. I can’t answer this for you.
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