Between the Sheets

I squirmed in my seat, trying not to smile.

In this high-end restaurant, with dozens of people around us, he had begun to punish me. Of course, it should be clarified that the punishment was meant solely for his pleasure, and the torture was me trying to deny my own. I looked up at him through my long eyelashes, smiled my sweetest smile, and purred, “My apologies.”

He nodded. But there was no lessening of the buzzing on my clit.

The waiter brought us our glasses, mine full with the dark, rich liquid. I waited for him to sip first, and raised my own glass to my lips. The bitter taste of the wine slid into a fruity bouquet as I swirled it in my cheek, finally swallowing. I smiled in gratitude. He had picked a fine wine, one that wasn’t produced in mass quanity year-round. A special choice. For me.

We made small talk, and I made special effort to please him: I kept my back straight, which caused my breasts to stand at attention; I giggled demurely, and waited for him to prompt my responses; I kept one hand in my lap at all times, to keep him guessing. Secretly, I adored pleasing him, and the benefits were always on my behalf as well.

He ordered fish for me and a steak for himself. When the food was placed in front of us, I made sure to follow his lead and only sample the dish after he had. I told him I was pleased with the choice, and thanked him for choosing something for me. Then, having pleased him thus far, he threw a challenge my way.

He dropped his napkin from his lap, on the floor.

“Get that for me,” he commanded. “Under the table. And I fully expect you to serve me dessert while you’re down there.”

Here, admist the elite of the city, I was being asked to perform fellatio on him, with only a thin linen tablecloth to hide me. And how was I to gracefully slip under a table? And what if I were to be found out? I began to tremble with fear, which he quickly noticed. This caused him to smile.

“Now,” he said. I shook my head, ever so slightly, and then realized what I’d done. His hands, already at his lap, moved to his pocket. The buzzing intensified, causing me to jump. “How long can you sit there, without moaning?” he asked. He was right; the throbbing of my clit was beginning to cause other reactions in my body, and it wouldn’t be long before I wouldn’t be able to contain myself.

“What if someone sees me?” I whispered frantically.

To this, he winked. And the buzzing got stronger. I worried now about my wetness staining the linen seatcover I perched on. Could the people around me hear the buzzing that now seemed to pound in my veins?

Finally, I consented, and began to move gracefully under the table..

public sex, domination, bdsm, fellatio

Oh, what an awful cocktease am I.

I know I promised my lovey readers a chapter tonight that would further detail my humiliation at dinner that fateful (and AMAZING) evening, but alas, I’ll be quite honest: I don’t have a chapter in me tonight.

And I found this blurb, where mrs.giggles discusses her personal boredom with today’s erotica scene:

Where’s the imagination? Romantic erotica is supposed to push the envelope, no? Instead, all I get nowadays are unimaginative nearly-vanilla BDSM scenes that even someone who doesn’t do BDSM in real life like me find dull, unexciting, and often even fake. I’d love to come across stories where the authors describe feelings experienced by the characters as well as what the characters are doing during sex. And it’s not just “explosive climax” - I’m talking about descriptions of taste, touch, everything. After all, sex involves all five senses - we touch, we see, we hear, we taste, and we smell. Okay, maybe I’d rather not read about the smell part. But I’d love to know what the characters are feeling. That’s what makes a good sex scene for me - not just the explicit act, but the explicit feelings.

And I can’t argue with the lady, mostly because she’s right. (But also partially because she has a shirtless hottie smiling at me from her right sidebar.) I think people, my readers in particular, deserve something more scrumptious than “he caressed my love mound.” I think you deserve something more like, “his fingers forced their way inside my pussy, slick with excitement, and the smell of my lust permeated the room.” That’s what you come here for.

And that’s why waiting one more night for the next chapter will be all the more worth it.

A little anticipation never hurt anyone, right?

Till tomorrow.. sweet dreams.

erotica, stories, blogs

I had tried to be such a good girl.

“Table for two,” he growled. I kept my eyes to the floor, and demurely kept two steps behind him. He pulled my chair out for me, and I muttered a quiet but distinct “Thank you, sir,” as I slid into it. I worked to not seperate my knees as I sat, but in the miniskirt he picked out for me, it was difficult not to spread my legs under the table.

I saw him fiddle with his pocket. Tonight was a large test for me. He so desperately wanted to make me crack under the pressure; I was bound and determined to make it through. He smiled as he played with the remote control in his pocket; his smile, although slightly sinister, made me wet.

He opened the menu across from me. The waiter approached us and asked what my drink would be. “The house chardonnay,” I said, before I could stop myself. He glared over his menu. Damn.

“She will have a glass of Boujelais Nouveau,” he said. “I will have sparkling water.” I grimaced. He was tempting me with alcohol; he planned on staying stone cold sober. The waiter nodded and scampered away.

I heard him fumble in his pocket again. I had to be punished for my slip up earlier, when I dared order my own drink. He was in control. It was difficult for a woman who had trouble giving up power. He flipped the switch in his pocket, and it began: the remote-control vibrator he had slid in my panties before we left began to tickle my clit.

It was going to be a long night. (second chapter to follow)

public sex, vibrator, domination, exhibitionism

My readers are FABULOUS.

So I was feeling less than.. yummy at the end of the week last week, and sure enough, I received tons of love notes hoping to perk me up and pique my interest.

Consider me interested.

From Mark H:

I dreamt about you last night. You were wearing a tight corset, and it kept you standing up straight as I fucked you from behind. I pulled your hair, and you liked it. Your breasts bounced every time I shoved my cock up into you. You begged me to cum on your ass. Well, Mark H., it sounds like you didn’t get much sleep that night, did you? I’m glad we had fun together.

From Mistress Lizzy:

i notice that most of your stories are strictly male/female. haven’t you ever wanted to play with a girl? women are so much more intuitive to eachother’s needs, eachother’s wants.. Well, Mistress Lizzy, to be quite honest, I had a tad of “experimentation”. It was drunken, awkward, and mortifying in the light of day. But since I turned, you know, older than 18, I have often wondered how a woman would touch me..

I always appreciate readers’ inputs. Especially if they make me tremble. You can contact me at the link to your right. Sweet dreams, and keep reading!

readers, letters, sexy emails, lesbian, corset

I’ll be quite honest. There are nights when even I don’t feel sexy. And to revv myself up for the night ahead, I often browse this lovely internet to find some steamy passages to get me ready to share with you. Of course, my partner enjoys this as well.

I thought I would give you an assignment this weekend. Try something new, and let me know how it works. You can email me with specifics, since I know several readers don’t like their names being widely broadcast. We can’t all be exhibitionists.

It can be something simple, like trying a new position. (Stretch before getting too adventurous, though!) Or try introducing some light bondage. (I suggest neckties, scarves, or even pantyhose for beginners.. the stretch is safer.) Incorporate food into your intimacies. (Nothing sticky around the groin, please!) Or you could visit an adult store with your lover and go crazy.

Most of all, enjoy your weekend. And be sure to share, so I can enjoy it with you.

bondage, sex with food, positions, sex

Even the most sexual of females, aka moi, still have a problem when intercourse is happening: we want the big “O”, too. This is not to say that we’re sad when it doesn’t happen, or that we feel our time has been wasted if only our partners climax, but who doesn’t cross the start line with hopes of making the finish line?

So gentlemen (and otherwise), I’m going to give you some hints on how you can help me cum.

• Grab my ass. I know that it’s common knowledge that your eyes are there all the time, but when we get naked, for some reason, my supple buttocks are ALWAYS neglected. When I’m on top and riding you like a pony, a firm handful of tush might just be the push I need to reach my peak.
• Feel free to warm me up before we get started with the penetration. I appreciate any effort you make between my legs, and that includes the kind that involves your tongue, your teeth, and your gums. I prefer the “snake” licks right on the target, but that’s too intense for some women. Call yourself a scientist, get down there, and experiment. You might just cause a reaction.
• TALK TO ME. Tell me what you’re going to do to me right before you do it.. know how you react to my inhaling and moans? Your words do the same for me. And hearing “I’m going to fuck you blind” let’s me know that I’m in for a wild ride. But guys, be careful; your lady may or may not be comfortable with this. You should have a pretty good guage of her sexual vocabulary before jumping into this. (But my readers know that I have no boundaries.)
• And guys, don’t be afraid of two very crucial things. Women need two things to climax: lubrication and stimulation. Sometimes, even we need help getting to the climax, which is why we have Astroglide and a “massager” in the nightstand. Don’t feel threatened, don’t be offended, and relax. This is for you too.

  Enjoy, and let me know if you have secrets I haven’t tried.

  masturbation, intercourse, orgasm, vibrator

I was so thrilled to see this in the news today:

A church is acknowledging the fact that people have sex.

And not just even married people. It’s acknowledging that teens are having sex. That couples become frustrated over it. That unsatisfactory sex can end marriages. Quite frankly, they’re acknowledging what everyone has been thinking and no one has said.

This was very good news, following the sex-toy debacle in Alabama. And there is still news regarding that: in one city, an adult store has been fighting the law since it hit the book, and they’ve remained open under a nine-year moratorium that allows them to still sell while appeals are ongoing. Guess what? Clock’s winding down.

And one of my readers emailed me to point out a very strange part of the Alabama law: the ban is on toys specifically designed to stimulate HUMAN genitalia.

The lucky, lucky bovine of Alabama are still happy.

Sexier news tomorrow, boys and girls.

sex toys, church, ban, Alabama

It was a lazy afternoon. My curls were sticking to my forehead as we sat in his studio, trying to find something to keep us busy between jobs. Like any artist, his studio was decorated with the breadwinning jobs: weddings, senior portraits, and sorority functions. They weren’t his passion; he loved doing artistic photography.

He was browsing his portfolio online when he called me over to see a shot he had taken at the recent modeling convention he’d attended. I had been asked to go, but as always, politely declined; it would be unseemly for us to attend together. Unprofessional.

Didn’t matter that there was an unspoken heat between us. Didn’t matter.

The shot was lovely, with a slender blonde silhouetted in a doorway. He had an eye for the curves of a woman, and he had the skill of making any woman feel like she was the only one in the room. Being cut from the same cloth, I knew his mode of operandi.. he was a player. I was too. We were good at what we did.

As he flipped to the next shot, a pop-up invaded the screen, advertising HOT WOMEN WITH LIVE CUM SHOTS AND REAL ORGASMS. “They’re never real,” he sighed, and started to click it closed.

“Wait, wait, WAIT,” I interrupted. “How in the hell can you tell what’s real and what’s not? Especially online?” My eyes met his. That heat bounced between us again. I had challenged him.

“I’ll show you,” he breathed, not moving his gaze.

The mouse opened the pop-up to full-screen, where a woman was spread-eagle on a bed. “Now watch,” he said, moving the pointer to her pussy. “First of all, she’s not even wet.” He circled her clit with the arrow. “Second of all, she’s screaming like a banshee, but do you see any contractions? I see no contractions.” He leaned in, taking a closer look. “Her back isn’t arched at all. She could be sleeping, for all we know.” He sat back in his chair, proud of himself.

“Show me a real one,” I demanded. (more…)

I exited off stage right, and sighed. Another children’s show; this time, I was playing a fairy. I was dressed from head to toe in blue glitter. There was nothing sexy about me. And that’s exactly how I felt.

I entered the offstage hall and took a deep breath. A guy dressed completely in black was sitting back there. He had a headset on. He tried to catch my eyes, but I walked past him. “Alrighty then,” he said.

I heard him following me. “So.. what ARE you?” he asked.

I whirled around on my heels. “I’m a fairy,” I hissed. “What the hell are you?”

He was taken aback. “I’m.. I’m.. I’m working the show next door. George Jones. I do his sound.”

I shrugged. “So I got the better end of life in that deal,” I said and spun back around and kept walking.

“Wait,” he said, jogging to catch up with me. “You look to be about my age.” He smelled like Old Spice, something his father probably introduced him to. He had a few days’ stubble; he was obviously a roadie. “What’s there to do in this town?”

“You’d dare ask a fairy’s opinion?” I asked, and I couldn’t keep from smiling. He had brown eyes that danced. They mirrored my own. “Well, what interests you? Music? Dancing? Food?”

He smiled. “I’m a sucker for blue fairies,” he said, leaning into me. His lips were smooth, surprising for a boy his age, and he had dimples when he grinned. I brushed my lips against his and nuzzled his nose.

“Shouldn’t you be at a sound board?” I whispered as my tongue traced his lips. I felt him shudder. I slid my arms around his waist and felt his thin, young frame tremble at my touch.

Finally, he dove in. His tongue tasted like whiskey, and he bit my lip hungrily. His hands quickly danced up and down my bodice, and a call came over the intercom for the Fairy.

I pulled away, and met his eyes. “I gotta go,” I whispered, nibbling his lip one more time. “Tell George I said hi.”

theatre, theatre sex, rendevous

As documented in both Violet Blue’s site and BoingBoing, today was indeed a dark day in the fair state of Alabama. In short, the judicial court of Alabama has decided to uphold the ban on sex toys.

Admittedly, I have visited the lovely state of Alabama, and I would go out of my mind if I was denied the right to pleasure myself with any toy that I’ve chosen.

Did you know that vibrators were actually marketed in the late 1890s and early 1900s as medical devices? That’s right, folks; doctors believed that manually stimulating a woman’s clitoris to climax would rid her mind of hysterical outbursts. (Although, let’s be frank; if ole doc was doing a halfway decent job, it would RESULT in hysterical outbursts.) Doctors carried vibrators with them to ease the strain on their hands.

Since Alabama doesn’t seem to be far beyond the 1900s in many ways of thinking, why can’t we stick with that rationale? Why must we hide behind the moniker of “marital aids”? I have gone through several toys before I ever considered anything “marital”.

Modern Marvels on the History Channel has also gone so far to show patents created for sex toys that involve high-tech, holographic, interactive sex toys that are on the drawing boards.. are we to be deprived of these too? Because we may, GASP!, actually find pleasure in our own bodies?

Unfortunately, in all the digging I’ve done, I have found no answers or possible recourse available. So take my advice: refresh your batteries, literally and figuratively, and keep it buzzing.. deep in the heart of dixie.

sex, masturbation, sex toys, Alabama, vibrators, orgasm

“House to half.�?

A hush fell over the crowd of people, although a few wiggly children could still be heard, squirming with excitement. The impatience began to hover over the mass, and a collective pulse started.

“House out.�?

Silence now settled into the darkened theatre. Out wandered a fully-grown jester, and the children sat on the edges of their seats, eagerly anticipating what might come next.

He stood perched up on the catwalk, dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt. Yawning, he tried to find something amusing to focus on until he was needed. Adults dressed as animals? Check. Terribly blocked town meeting scene? Check. Parents thinking this was the best production since sliced bread because their children were in it? Check. He yawned again. Yep, he thought, REALLY glad I agreed to help here.

He settled back onto the railing and crossed his arms. The murmur of his headset droned too loudly, so he turned it down. With that buzzing gone from his ear, he heard a soft breathing behind him, followed by soft footsteps. He spun around to see her.

She was standing with one hip cocked, arms crossed in front of her. Although a classically defensive pose, she was smirking broadly. Dressed also in a black shirt and jeans, her pale skin glowed even in the pitch around them.

“You can’t be here,�? he said.

“Okay,�? she said. Her arms dropped to her side and she stepped into him.

“I’m serious,�? he said.

“Okay,�? she said. She slid her hands around his waist and lifted her face to his.

“I’ve got to fly a kid in fifteen minutes,�? he said.

“Okay,�? she said. She let her lips hover against his, and she could feel the moisture on his now-quickened breath. “Then you’d better quit talking.�? She started softly, letting herself remember his kiss, his teeth, his tongue. Finally, she could hold back no longer and she adhered her body to his as she voraciously kissed him. Her hands flew to his head, caressing his face, his ears, his neck, and his hands found her waist and slid up and down the slinky black material of her shirt.

“Dragonfly, you’re up in ten minutes,�? a voice said over his headset.

Her hands were no longer restricted to his head, and she couldn’t move fast enough to the throbbing erection straining against his jeans. She unbuttoned the top button and slid the zipper down just enough to free him, and her hands gladly circled his cock. His head flew back in ecstasy, but they both knew things were just getting started. His hands slid down the front of her jeans to find her wet and pulsing. Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb found her clit and began to rub it. Striving to keep silent, she forced her tongue into his mouth.

Finally, the need was too great. She slid her jeans down to her ankles and he hoisted her up onto the railing. Her legs wrapped around him and his cock found its way into her pussy. They both took a moment to savor the excitement.. here, above a sold-out crowd.. and he pulled out and slowly re-entered her. She kept her mouth to his ear, tracing his lobe with her tongue. The slow rhythm grew into a steady pounding, and she found herself struggling not to scream out. Her back arched with pleasure and she felt the waves of an upcoming explosion start to wash over her. She felt him tense up inside of her and she clung more tightly to him.

“Dragonfly, we need you to start heading up to the catwalk, please,�? announced the voice.

It got to be too much, and she came, her body shaking around him. Her shudders only sent him into orgasm, and she felt him release and explode inside of her. They both went limp and held each other for a moment, then she hopped off the railing and redressed herself. He looked at her with a bemused expression, and all she could do was smile and wink. She stepped to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

As she trotted back down the stairs, she passed a dragonfly holding a microphone. His little eight-year old frame bristled and he said, “You’re not supposed to be here.�?

“Okay,�? she said, grinning.

Theatre, sex theatre, porn, public sex, masturbation

I ran across a very interesting article today regarding how exercise can actually dramatically improve your sex life. I couldn’t agree more; my lover and I actually began working out together at the beginning of the year.

Not only does exercise have the added benefit of you maintaining your remarkable figure for your lover, but getting incredibly sweaty together BEFORE taking off your clothes gets your pulse to a break-neck pace and energizes the both of you.

Men especially benefit from the exercise, and it can result in a decreased risk of erectile dysfunction. So make a New Year’s resolution and choose to get fit..

.. if nothing else, you will appreciate the view from the treadmill.

exercise, sex, sexual health, ED

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Someone in my circle asked today: what is your favorite music to have playing when you and your lover touch eachother?

Personally, I prefer a deep bass line, something with a whailing guitar, and low vocals. I prefer something soulful, something deep. And I prefer it to build to a climax.

Much like the sex I prefer, actually. I prefer my sex to be all of those things and more. Whailing, with deep strokes, and an eventual climax.

Some of my favorites:
“Red House” by Jimi Hendrix
“Yeah” by Usher
“If” by Janet Jackson

Let’s make a deal, you and I. Everyone leave a song before tomorrow night. And check back tomorrow night, before the festivities begin. Take a song you’ve never fucked to, and try a new one. Kind of like swapping iPods, but.. not.

Enjoy and play along!

He slid in beside her and bristled at the cold. “Jesus God, this bed is freezing,” he said. She rolled over into the crook of his shoulder and pasted her body against him. She wasn’t much warmer, but she tried.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” he muttered, kissing her forehead.

“Me too,” she nodded. “You have no idea.”

Even in the dark, he turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “It just sucks. It sucks because you have NO clue what hormones I have coursing through my veins right now, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’ve just got to lay here, pretend like I couldn’t fuck you blind right now, and then pray that you’ll sleep soundly.” She stopped suddenly.

“Sleep soundly?” he asked. She didn’t move. “Sleep soundly?” he asked again.

“Uh, yeah,” she said. She knew that, even in this silence, her tapdancing could be heard a mile away. “I want you to sleep well.” She rolled away from him.

“Why, pray tell, do I need to sleep soundly?” he asked again.

She sighed and confessed, “Because. When you fall asleep on weeks like this, I..” she took another deep breath, “.. you know.”

No movement. “No, I don’t know.”

She shrugged again. “You know. Yes, you know. I .. play with myself. I .. take care of business. I .. alright, alright: I masturbate.”

He was oddly still. “While I sleep?”

She nodded. “You sleep right through it. I use the smaller one, cause it’s quieter.”

No one moved. She began to nervously fidget, and he remained very still.

Finally, he spoke. “Why not while I’m awake?”

Now she became still. “I’m sorry?”

Again, “Why not while I’m awake?”

She turned and looked at him. “I didn’t think you’d like that,” she said softly.

He reached across her and leaned down to the nightstand. After feeling around for a minute, he produced the small white vibrator and turned it on. “Let me be the judge of that,” he said, and handed it to her.

She stared at it for a moment, the quiet buzz filling the room. Then, hesitantly, she slid the bullet down her stomach, under her panties, until it found her clit. She moaned. He moved in closer to her, his mouth nuzzling her earlobe as her thighs spread and her hips began to sway. She felt the lips of her pussy spreading, opening, getting wet as the pulsation washed over her. Her other hand perused her chest, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples as her body began to undulate. Her breathing quickened, and her back began to arch..

.. when, suddenly, she turned the toy off.

“WHAT’S WRONG?” he asked.

“I can’t do this by myself. I mean, it’s weird, with you there watching me.”

He puzzled for a moment and then said, “How can I fix that?”

Her eyes, even in the dark, lit up. “Play with yourself,” she growled.

His hand stirred under the sheets, and the buzzing began again. She felt him caressing his cock until it hardened, and she used a fingernail to tease the tip of it until she felt those precious drops of precum soak her fingertip. With him sufficiently occupied, she returned to her own arena.

She heard him grunting softly as she found her clit again with the bullet. Using a precision envied by surgeons, she carefully manuevered the toy over her pulsing clit until a spot became obvious. Her back arched violently, and she heard his breathing quicken. Her screams found their way out of her mouth, and she heard him whisper, “Oh my God, I’m going to cum.”

“I want you to cum on me,” she whispered, in between moans. And as she felt the warm liquid across her breasts, she spasmed, the incontrollable and satiating waves of pleasure shaking her entire torso. The wetness was everywhere, and she was sure her neighbors were aware of the nights’ activities from her screaming.

As they lay there, both warm in the orgasmic glow, she smiled. Maybe weeks like this AREN’T that bad, she thought.

I’ll admit that I erased a post late last night because I thought that it was less-than-classy, but I’ll have to expound on it a bit today. I was unable to sleep last night when I got home because I was so.. for lack of a better word.. restless. I was also really tired, though, so I thought if I just laid still long enough.. but eventually, I turned to The Rabbit. I attribute it to the fact that I was sitting in between two large, handsome men at dinner, and I could almost taste the testosterone between them.

It was enough to make me crazy.

On that same note, as I was walking between buildings today, I passed a young engineer. He looked at me. And I’ll tell you, because I know you can’t see it, that when I typed that, I was grinning. I could SEE what he was thinking when he was looking at me. I had forgotten what that felt like, but I giggled like a little girl. He was devouring me.

Oh, to be devoured.