Resolution

Content Advisory: male/female with light BDSM and oral sex

I open the door to the hotel room with a smile on my face and mischief on my mind. Revelry and laughter tinkles its way into the space, up from the function hall downstairs. The curtains are drawn, the lights are dim and I’m dressed for a private party.

A party for two. New Year’s—a time for celebration. Out with the old and in with the new. A time for promises and resolutions.

This is it... A New Year, a new start.

Pete strides into the room in a cloud of self-assured ego and Hugo Boss aftershave. He plants a perfunctory kiss on my cheek as he pulls impatiently at the bow tie around his neck, then throws his keys, phone and wallet on to the bedside table.

As always, I cannot prevent blinking at the sheer beauty of the man. From the start of our relationship, his utter splendor hypnotized me; rendered me helpless under his spell. In the beginning, I needed him just as much as I needed oxygen, or water... or the money my job provided.

“I only have an hour,” he says, shrugging out of his dinner jacket, “and then I have to get to the office party.”

“I know—I arranged the office party, remember?”

“And have I told you recently just what a phenomenal P.A. you are?”

“Not today you haven’t.”

His voice deepens and he crooks a finger in my direction. “C’mon over here, Sweetheart t, I knew he was married. I knew it was wrong. I knew screwing the boss was the stupidest thing in the world to do. I’d love to report he pursued me, chased me and hunted me down. Or he had been relentless in his attention... like a voracious predator, which could not be stopped nor denied.

But my tortured conscience knows the truth. No pursuit, no chase, no hunt—merely the brush of fingers on a desktop, a jolt of static, an inhale of breath, an eyebrow raised in question, the licking of a lip in reply. Nothing vocalized, but everything said.

Our first kiss went deep, almost bruising, and tasted of coffee and yearning. Paper clips and legal files scattered as hands fumbled and groped. We pushed aside moral dilemmas and clothing, stroking flesh and fanning the fires of lust.

Right now, Pete’s finger is still crooked in my direction but I don’t walk toward him. I dip my eyes and gaze back at him under my lashes. I hope he can’t see the tremor in my hands that threatens to expose my nerves. This man has seen my most primitive and base being. I’m sure there is nothing I can say or do that will shock him. Perhaps I’m worried about shocking myself? I take a deep breath.

“I brought some toys and have a fantasy I’d like to try.” The lump in my throat makes my voice sound hollow and strained. Dear God, do I look sultry or silly? My stomach lurches as I gather courage to continue.

“My oh my, toys and a fantasy?” His smile turns feral and his hands drop immediately to the remainder of his clothing. He sheds his suit in record time, completing his metamorphosis from lawyer to lover.

My treacherous body liquefies at the sight and I can feel my hormones humming in happy expectation.

“What do you need me to do, Sweetheart?” His voice sounds as excited as his cock looks. Just the hint of kink and his evident arousal screams to be attended to.

Saliva pools in my mouth. I mentally slap myself to bring my attention back to the purpose of today’s rendevous; My New Year’s resolution—to take control.

“I plan to tie you down, blind fold you and tease you mercilessly.” I sound confident. Like I want to be in charge.

Pete reaches out and pulls me against his broad chest. The masculine scent of him fills my senses while the thud of his heart beats against my cheek. A hand languidly strokes my hair. My nipples chafe against the lace of my bra, responding to the heat of his erection nudging against my stomach.

“Sweetheart, I can think of nothing sexier than being at your mercy. Although, I would like you to promise me one thing.” His hazel gaze meets my own and he kisses the end of my nose.

“Yes?” I’m curious.

“Please don't just tease—there are parts of my anatomy that need... more.”

I smile. But the smile gets stuck at my lips. I avert my eyes before he sees the lack of laughter in them.

In the beginning, I loved his jokes and witty conversation. I thought him sophisticated, educated, even clever. I’m still shocked at how quickly a viewpoint can change.

One wonders, how could something so obvious be concealed in plain sight?

I keep my eyes downcast and let my hands do the talking. Steering him backward to the bed, I gently shove him on to the cushioned comforter. I open the bedside drawer to pull out the cuffs hidden there earlier. Without preamble, I grab his wrist and encircle it with steel, then secure the attached circlet to the bed post. He grins at me.

“Do you like the thought of being in control, baby?” He offers me his other hand, and before he can think better of it, I cuff the wrist and lock it to the other bed post. Not waiting for objections, I slide a sleep mask over his eyes. Shutting out the light. Cutting his vision - forcing him to rely on his other senses.

Now I smile and this time the smile reaches my eyes.

“I love the thought of being in control,” I purr, tracing an idle fingernail down the center of his chest, skimming his navel and gliding over the slick head of his cock. Pete jerks his pelvis upward with a groan. “Tonight, I want to be the boss.”

Once, we fucked frantic and frenzied. He felt like a drug I couldn’t get enough of. Like all addicts, I came back for more, not realizing the price of addiction nor the toll it would take. I believed his endearments and his justifications. I felt special, flattered. Like I was helping his wife by revelling in the sex she was so revolted by.

I swallowed his explanations and platitudes hook, line and sinker... the same way I swallowed his come. In my orgasm soaked euphoria, oblivious to morality or ethics, I thought if a little was good, more was better—therefore too much would be just enough. I could barely breathe through the ecstasy of our relationship. Until the day I came back early from lunch.

I forgot to take in my dry-cleaning and popped back to grab a skirt that became a spattered victim in one of our sexual exploits. I overheard him talking to a fellow partner of the firm—another family man. Another fine, upstanding pillar of the legal community.

“I can’t believe you are screwing this one too. Doesn’t Maggie have anything to say about it?”

“Maggie and I have an agreement – as long as I am discreet, she won’t feel the need to… kick up a fuss.” At this point Pete chuckled, as I stood unseen in my office, my knuckles whitening, clutching a stained skirt. “You just gotta know how to pick ‘em,” he continued. “I’m an expert at it now. Let me know when you’re next interviewing for a P.A. and I’ll sit in. We’ll pick you a good one too.”

I slunk out of the office and ran down the corridor, the sound of their laughter, barking and snapping at my fleeing feet.

In the weeks that passed, I wanted to scream at my stupidity. I wanted to shriek at him for his selfishness. I wanted to wallow in self-pity and drown in despair. But I did none of these things.

Like all good Personal Assistants in the face of chaos, I kept calm and carried on. Never a victim in this scenario, but a willing participant, it still galled to be played the fool. 

Now it was my turn to blow some minds.

“I have some paint.” I said to my hand-cuffed boss.

“Paint?”

“Yeah, chocolate body-paint.”

“Were you thinking of painting bits of me and sucking them afterward?” The feral grin returned. His pulse leapt at the base of his throat.

“No, I want to write filthy words all over you,” I pause for effect, “and then I want to lick them off.”

His breathing becomes ragged. A flush colors his cheeks and I know if I could see his eyes, they would be feverish with desire. The mushroom flared head of his cock shines with pre-come and his hips undulate in a silent plea for satisfaction.

“What sort of words?” His voice sounds guttural.

I bring my lips close to his ear and whisper, “You choose. Something dirty. Words that make you so horny you could explode.”

His lungs labor, as if from physical exertion. He opens his mouth and closes it again. His lips curve into a smile.

“‘Cunt’. I want you to write ‘cunt’,” he sighs. “I love your pussy. The way it tastes, the way it smells... the way it grips my cock. I’m a slave to your slick snatch”.

“Perfect,” I say.

In the dim light of the hotel room with the stench of stimulation and provocation weighing heavy in the air, my traitorous body responds to his words and I want nothing more than to rub the musk of my pussy all over his lips or sheathe his organ and grind myself brutally to fulfillment.

Instead, I take the brush, dip it into the thick chocolate paint and with a circular stroke paint a large C on his upper chest. Straddling his waist, his thick length rubs against my damp crotch and neither of us can help gyrating, the friction drawing groans from us both. Pulling air deep into my own lungs, I try to keep my mind on task. Sitting up, I take my weight on my knees denying us both the sensations that are so inflaming. Pete grunts his disapproval.

The squishing of the brush repeatedly plunging into the warmed chocolate reminds me of other wet and sweaty encounters with this man. Up against walls, flesh slapping against flesh. In cars with tinted windows, spurts of come dribbling down my chin as he thrusts into my mouth. Again, I have to shake my head to clear it from these unwanted distractions and I finish my painting with artistic flair.

I stand up to survey my handiwork. Pete lays there, his arms pinned wide, his chiselled chest decorated with chocolate profanity and his dick swollen and straining. There is a light sheen of sweat on his limbs.

“Are you gonna start licking it off yet?” His plaintive and needy tone, music to my ears.

“Where would you like me to start?”

“My cock.” The words are a command. Like he is in control.

I can’t stop the derisive snort of air from my nose. His blindfolded eyes miss my sneer of disdain.

But his request suits my purpose, so I lean close, letting my hair drag over the swollen heat of him. His hips jerk upwards seeking more. I allow the tips of my fingers to drift over the sac pulled up taut between his thighs. His pelvis twitches.

“Oh God, please, Sweetheart...I’m begging you…”

Taking him in hand, I slide him into the warmth of my mouth and allow his desperate thrusting, deep into the back of my throat. My rouged lips reach the base of his cock, ringing him in red. My throat objects to his careless lunging. My eyes water, and I gag. Pulling myself off him, I cough and drag the back of my hands over my leaking eyes. Not quite done, I dip my head again and plant three firm kisses up the underside of his shaft, leaving ruby red evidence of my ministrations.

Now I’m finished. No more games. I have him where I want him.

I am in control. I am the boss.

I reach for his phone where he abandoned it earlier on the bedside table, and cradle it in the palm of my hand. I swipe the pads of my fingers over its face with ruthless efficiency until I have found the function I need. Standing upright I survey my boss in all his lewd, painted glory through the camera lens of his phone and press the shutter closed. The moment captured with a with a quiet mechanical click. Pete freezes.

“What the hell was that?” his voice not much more than a whisper.

I can see by his wilting erection and pale features, his predicament and vulnerable position dawns on him

“Just taking a photo. A little something to remember you by.” He pales even more and beads of sweat form on his brow above the blindfold. I remove the mask and his eyes screw up hard against the light. I wait for his face to smooth and his vision to clear. He blinks and I meet his gaze. He looks wary. His nostrils flare.

I step back so he can see what I am doing. My fingers are dancing across the face of his phone. His brow furrows.

“What are you doing?” he snaps. I notice he no longer calls me Sweetheart. With a final flourish of my fingers I give the screen one last tap. Smiling, I replace the phone on the bedside table.

“Texting and e-mailing everyone in your address book a festive photo, wishing them Happy New Year.” I watch the confusion on his face clear, seeing the exact moment when he realizes what I have done. The exact moment he realizes he’s been played for a fool.

I slide into my coat and grab my bag as I head to the door of the room.

“Would you like me to text your wife or your mother to come and get those cuffs off you?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Turning, I see his manacled fists are clenched, his face is puce with anger and his stare is pure venom.

They say revenge is sweet but the bile in my throat tastes bitter.

“You may want to look for a little docility in the next P.A. you interview, Pete. Happy New Year.” I open the door and step into the hallway.

Revelry and laughter tinkles its way up from the hotel function room downstairs. New Year's—a time for celebration. Out with the old and in with the new. A time for promises and resolutions.

This is it. A New Year, a new start.

***

Greta is next posting on 18 February 2011 – post a comment suggesting sexy hotel liaisons you’d like to read about.

Copyright © 2010 Greta Goddard

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Dao That To Me One More Time

Content Advisory: Sexually graphic artwork and language.

    The billowing clouds surged and swelled over the sharp peaks of the jutting mountains, caressing their tips like a lover. With a thunderous clap the vaporous mass heaved, letting loose its essence to drench the beloved earth with its wet, quenching kiss.

Chinese metaphor of the Heaven (men) making love to the Earth (women), as interpreted by Boone Brux.

Modest, discreet, and humble, the Chinese people have carried this persona for centuries. So it may come as some surprise that early Taoism, or Daoism, produced what can only be referred to as the superheroes of the bedroom.

With its emphasis on balance, ancient practitioners of this philosophy strove for a harmonious marriage between sex and spirituality. It was their belief that when sex was performed effectively, the male was rewarded with not only better health and control over all disease, but immortality. Needless to say, many Taoist males dove into the practice with their jade stalk cocked and primed, ready to prove their worthiness to live forever.

But fear not ladies, though heavenly rewards were bestowed to men, it was the women who won all the earthly delights.

Yin and Yang played an important role in the mating ritual—opposite forces comprising the body, nature, and the universe.

Portrayed as the black swirl, Yin represented the woman, weakness and passivity. But it was she who held the key to the man’s immortality. Without her and the life-giving essence she kept locked away, a man was unable to reach the state of everlasting life.

Whereas a woman’s reservoir of yin was vast, a man’s yang was believed to be limited in quantity. The longer he could remain penetrated within her and the more of her essence he absorbed, the stronger his Yang became. In a nutshell, she had it and he wanted it. As such, it was man’s job to keep his yang, or semen, while making his partner give up her yin, or come.

Yep—you’ve got it. If a man gave the woman an orgasm without ejaculating, he was rewarded. Some may consider this common sexual courtesy, but for the ancient Tao practitioner, this was one step toward eternal life.

Treasuring his jing or essence was imperative to the Tao male. To treasure was to refrain from ejaculation and wasting his semen outside his body.

Different methods prescribed by the Taoists were used to control ejaculation. First, the man could pull out before his orgasm, thus staving off his climax. Talk about strength of will.

Second, he could apply pressure to his perineum, or “taint” as it’s referred to in present day slang. Some modern teachers believe the potential dangers of this practice are too high and it shouldn’t be performed.

Another method is for the Taoist to master separating the impulse to orgasm from the impulse to pump and physical release. At the point of orgasm the man can halt his movement, remain inside his partner, and clench his pelvic floor. By doing so, the initial prostate contraction stops. At the same time the Taoist enters a meditation like state that redirects the life energy of jing the semen stores, and sends it up his back and into the center of his brain.

The man may still have an orgasm, but will not ejaculate, and will not lose his erection. He is then advised to climb a ladder of increasing orgasms while maintaining his meditative intention. In this way the man cultivates and stores massive amounts of jing. If done correctly there should be no blue balls, semen in his urine, and he should garner many health benefits. This practice is believed to be one of the keys to immortality.

To hold his semen once, a man was rewarded with strength. If he accomplished this feat twice his vision and hearing were enhanced. Three times he conquered disease. But if a man could hold his ejaculation ten times or more, he became immortal. As they say, practice makes perfect.

Though every Chinese woman must have been clicking up her heels, one can’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for her deprived partner. What happened if he did come? Would he have to start all over on his quest for perpetuity? Would his vision and hearing diminish? Would he become weak again?

Perhaps performance anxiety helped the Taoist male in his eternal pursuits. Have an orgasm or become immortal? Have an orgasm or become immortal? You can almost hear the question warring in his mind. The pressure must have been enormous.

The best sexual partner to aide in the Taoist male’s quest was a virgin. Many took teenage girls, believing the young women possessed the most potent essence because they had not yet been contaminated by pregnancy.

Zhao Liangpi and Zang Sanfeng instructed the men through sexual texts that girls aged fourteen and under were best for a man’s purpose. Though today men may not receive eternal life by undertaking this practice, they may get ten to twenty in the state penitentiary.

Zhang expanded his explanation by dividing women into three groups.

Highest Ranked: 14 years and under

Middle Ranked: 16-20 years (menstruating virgins)

Lowest Ranked: 21-25 years

And if you were 26 years or older, you weren’t a contender in the Life Everlasting Olympics. Sorry ladies.

Saddled with the task of enticing a young virgin to relax and enjoy her sexual experience enough to orgasm, men turned to Pillow Books. Unlike the porn magazines of today, these books were revered as medical texts and used as guides by couples.

But in keeping with the gender bias of ancient times, the manuals were written mainly for the head of the family. Though the purpose of the Taoist practice was to make a woman give up her essence by having an orgasm, never were the texts written for her benefit. Women’s pleasure was the focus only in as much as it aided the man.

The sex treaties instructed couples on how to have healthy children, and how to live long and happy lives by practicing harmonious sexual relations. Many times a Pillow Book was given to the bride as a wedding gift to ensure she fully satisfied her husband. For this reason, the books were kept by the bed and were consulted in times of love making. One never knew when a shy partner might need a little coaxing.

Who’s to say whether this practice truly achieved immortality for its practitioners? Dedicated and single-minded, it’s a pretty good bet many died trying.

If you enjoyed today’s piece, be sure to return on January 26, 2011 for a more in-depth look into the Pillow Books of Ancient Asia and on January 12, 2011 for my next fiction piece—Pumpkin’s Great Escape (Part 2).

vBoone Brux v

vAmazon a   Website  v Twitter  a Facebookv

Resources: Taoist Sexual Practices-Wikipedia

History Channel-The History of Sex (The Eastern World)

The Art of Sexuality in China- China.emperadoramarillo.net/art.html

Copyright © 2010 Boone Brux

Winter Retreat

Content Advisory: Erotic; Ménage - Male/Female/Male

Today marked day three of the Bracker company retreat. Carmen Rowe actually looked forward to the group hike planned for this evening. Cabin fever set in and she was tired of the lame mixers and being hit on by balding, fifty-year old executives. She stuffed extra socks in her knapsack along with a bottle of water and her thermal blanket. Carmen laced up her boots and pulled a white knit cap over her blonde hair.

She joined the crowd in the lobby of the makeshift resort and blew out an exaggerated breath. Their itinerary outlined a hike into the woods for a campfire, storytelling and a light dinner. None of which appealed to her but at least it would be a different scene. She half listened to the guide with the annoying voice and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What’s up?” Damon appeared beside her and grinned.

She looked up at his face. He always made her a little weak in the knees. He was, by far, the hottest guy working in the IT department. She wouldn’t mind crawling into his sleeping bag.

“Nada mucho. Hoping things get a little more exciting. Maybe a bear will chase that little shit up a tree.”

Damon put his hand on his broad chest and laughed a deep chuckle. “Damn, Carmen.”

She laughed, too. All the girls in the office had a hard on for Damon and he knew it.

“What’s so funny?" Jared walked up to the other side of Damon and leaned around him to look at Carmen.

“Never mind, J. You had to be there,” she answered and tucked her hands into her jacket pockets.

“I always miss the good shit.”

The guide walked toward the door and held it open as people began filing out.

Carmen followed suit and stayed close to Damon and Jared. Once outside, the guide explained that he wanted everyone to be in groups of three and to always know where their buddies were. Carmen looked at Damon and Jared and raised her eyebrows. “You two wanna be buddies with me?”

Jared’s mouth broke into a smile. “Hell, yeah.” Jared, the office clown, had a quick sense of humor, which made up for his lack of physical appeal. He wasn’t unattractive, just average. Damon, in contrast, seemed a God with his shaved head and solid body. He had an I don’t give a fuck attitude and a smile that could melt a girl’s panties right off.

“I’m game.” Damon adjusted his beanie and put his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s do this.”

They followed the guide into the thick copse of pines. The sun began to set and a chill settled in the air. Cold filled the forest, but no snow lay on the ground yet. Snow didn’t fall in Arkansas until mid to late January, and they lucked out with it being late December. Carmen pulled on her gloves, adjusted her pack and fell in step between Jared and Damon.

After an hour of walking, Carmen felt completely disoriented. They twisted and turned through what seemed like ridiculously winding shortcuts. There appeared to be no discernable path and the thought of dropping breadcrumbs crossed her mind.

“Oh, shit,” Jared said, stopping and looking around the forest floor.

“What?” Damon asked.

“My cell phone is gone.” Jared started walking back the way they came.

“Hold on, dude. I’ll call it, and then we can listen for it.” Damon pulled his iPhone out of his pocket. He stared at the screen. “Fuck, man. No signal up here.”

“Damn. I have to find it. It’s full of my business contacts and my calendar.”

“It should all be on your computer. You synched it, right?”

Jared raised an eyebrow. “I was meaning to do that.”

“Are you fucking serious, Jared?” Damon glared at the other man.

“Don’t start fighting, you guys. Let’s take a look around.” Carmen checked her cell phone to make sure she didn’t have a signal and they started backtracking.

“Are you sure you brought it with you?” Damon inquired.

“Yeah. I had it in my jacket pocket. This sucks.” Jared walked ahead of Damon and Carmen.

“What about the group?” Carmen asked.

“We’ll catch up with them.” Damon hooked his arm through hers.

Two hours later they were lost and still hadn’t found Jared’s phone. Darkness had descended and the only illumination was from the backlight on Damon’s phone. Carmen’s phone was dead already.

“I need to rest.” Her legs started to cramp and her mouth was dry. “I need a drink.”

“Okay. We’ll stop here.” Damon unrolled his sleeping bag on the ground and they all sat down.

Carmen shrugged out of her knapsack and brought out the bottle of water. They all took a drink and she leaned forward, putting her forehead into her hands. “What the hell are we gonna do?” The first inkling of panic slithered up her spine.

“Honestly…I think we should just bundle up and wait for the sun to come up. We’re never gonna find our way out of here in the dark.” Jared said.

“Do you have a sleeping bag in that contraption?” Damon asked Jared, eyeing the pack the other man set on the ground.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, unroll it. If we huddle together on top of my sleeping bag and cover up with yours, we should be warm enough until dawn.”

Carmen looked at both of them while pulling her blanket out of her bag. “I don’t like this. I don’t camp.” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and a shiver swept over her. Her stomach growled loud enough for both men to hear. “Sorry. I’m starving.”

Damon unzipped his pack and brought out a package of trail mix and a sandwich. “I’m not a fan of hot dogs, so I brought my own dinner.” He set the open container in the center of the sleeping bag and tore the sandwich into three pieces. “Eating should help keep us warm. I have another sandwich, but we should save it. Just in case…”

She ate her part of the sandwich and was nibbling a handful of trail mix when she heard the first howl. Carmen didn’t know what it was but the shrill cry chilled her to the bone even more than the biting wind. Her teeth chattered.

“You know…we should strip down to our underwear,” Jared began. “Our bodies will generate and retain more heat if we are skin to skin.”

Damon chuckled. “Nice try, dude. But Carmen is not gonna get naked with us.”

“Actually, I think I’ve heard that before.” She wasn’t completely sure but at this point she felt willing to try.

Jared peeled off his jacket and folded it into a pillow. The forest almost sounded alive with the noise of zippers, buttons, and the rustling of clothing.

“Something is out there.” Carmen peered into the dark as another sharp howl bounced off the trees. Clad in her underwear and socks, Carmen kept a hand over her breasts and fought back the fear that threatened to consume her. She stood up. Her breathing grew ragged and the only thing preventing her from crying was the lump in her throat.

“We can’t stay out here. What if whatever that is comes for us?” She searched both men’s faces, looking for reassurance.

Damon’s hands rested on her bare shoulders. “Carmen, calm down. We won’t let anything happen to you. Right, Jared?”

“Of course not.” Jared’s voice sounded behind her.

Damon gently pulled her into his embrace. “Everything is gonna be fine, sweetheart.”

She snaked her arms around his torso and held onto him. His warm chest against her cheek calmed her some.

Damon’s hand smoothed her hair and massaged her neck and Jared moved in close behind her. His hands trailed down her back and settled on the soft curve of her hips.

“Come on, Carmen. It’s freezing out her. Let’s lay down.” Damon backed out of the embrace and sat down on the sleeping bag. He gripped her hand and pulled her down beside him.

Jared followed them and pressed his chest to her back, covering them with the extra sleeping bag and her blanket.

She looked into Damon’s dark amber eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from kissing his mouth softly. Her hand reached back and touched Jared’s thigh, keeping him close.

Damon’s tongue snaked into her mouth while Jared’s breath came fast and hot on the back of her neck. She was safe, cradled between their warm bodies, they would protect her. A burn started in her stomach and spread slowly through her body until the winter climate was no match for the smoldering fire between her legs.

Carmen closed her eyes and let herself float within the moment; Jared’s lips on her neck, Damon’s hand cupping her breast, strumming her nipple with his thumb. Her back arched, pushing her ass against Jared’s erection. She recoiled away slightly, but he pulled her back to him and reached between her legs. His fingers glided over her panties, grazing her clit, while Damon’s mouth trailed down to circle around her other nipple.

It occurred to her that she shouldn’t let them do this to her, with her, but she couldn’t stop it. She didn’t want to stop it. She let them envelop her. Nobody said a word as animal instinct took over. Her panties were slipped off and strong hands parted her thighs. Fingers touched her pussy, parting her lips. She looked down to see Damon crouched near her knees, his eyes staring at her.

She bit down on her lip when he pushed a finger inside her. He spread her lips open and applied his mouth to her; his tongue teased her clit, beckoning it out of hiding.

Jared played with her nipples, pinching and pulling the sensitive peaks. He held her breast in his hand and closed his lips around her, coaxing her nipple to a tight pebble. The sweet pull of his mouth sent an electric current straight to her pussy.

Damon sucked her clit and finger fucked her with slow, deep thrusts. The gentle sweeping motion of his tongue curled her toes and her legs trembled.

Her vision blurred and tiny sparks of light erupted in the dark. With one hand, she pressed Damon’s face against her pussy and dug the nails of her other hand into Jared’s shoulder. Her cries echoed through the woods as her body convulsed and her cunt sucked Damon’s fingers deeper. All the heat in her body liquified and pooled in her center. Her clit throbbed against his tongue as she came. He kept a light suction on her until her hand released its hold on his head.

“Turn over, Carmen,” Damon demanded. He was clearly calling the shots for this escapade, and she gladly let him.

She did as he asked and, on her hands and knees, came face to face with Jared’s cock.

She looked up and he cupped her chin and ran his thumb down her jaw. His blue eyes shone dark with desire. The laughter usually on the tip of his tongue was absent, replaced by wanton lust.

He leaned down and kissed her, biting her bottom lip. His tongue slipped inside and slid over her teeth. He straightened back up and stroked his dick.

Carmen watched his erection grow larger in his hand. She opened her mouth and took him in, sliding her tongue around the velvety, smooth head. Pulling his hand away, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his thick shaft and started a steady rhythm in tandem with her mouth.

Jared’s hands tangled in her hair as he helped her set the pace.

Damon’s fingers caressed her pussy, spreading her silky fluid around her opening and up to her swollen bud.

Carmen couldn’t form a coherent thought. Her pussy ached to be filled and she really wanted him to fuck her.

Finally, his cock rubbed her slit as he teased her with just the tip. He pressed in a little then withdrew.

She pushed back against Damon, silently begging him to impale her while she continued to work Jared’s cock, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum on her tongue.

As if reading her mind, Damon slid his full length into her, stretching the walls of her pussy and she softly bit down on Jared.

He groaned and started fucking her mouth with earnest. She held her lips open for him and he plunged deep, touching the back of her throat with every thrust. The muscles in his abdomen tightened and he moaned, shooting his thick warmth down her throat.

Jared held her head in place for a moment before rocking back on his heels and ran his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, Carmen.”

Damon’s hands gripped her hips as he slowly pumped in and out of her. She looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with him for a second. Keeping one hand firmly on her hip, his other hand crawled up her back and grabbed the back of her neck, pushing her down against the slippery fabric of the sleeping bag.

His cock slid over her G-spot on every upstroke and she whimpered his name. His pace increased until he was slamming into her, his balls smacking against her ass. He groaned and took hold of her elbows, pulling her upright then down on his dick.

Jared moved in and sucked a nipple into his mouth while his hand reached for her clit.

Carmen held onto Jared’s shoulders while Damon bounced her on his cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby. Are you ready?”

“Oh, God,” she panted, feeling the pressure build in her pelvis every time his shaft hit that sensitive spot inside her. She was going to come again.

Jared’s mouth on her nipples sent shockwaves to her lower body detonating her climax. Her pussy clenched and she screamed, her clit pulsing against Jared’s fingers.

Damon grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back while he drove deep and growled into her ear. His cock throbbed, spilling his hot release inside her. His forehead leaned on her back and he kissed her there.

She collapsed against Jared’s shoulder and he put his arms around her.

Completely spent, the three of them slept soundly, their nude bodies nestled together. When the sun broke through at dawn, they gathered their belongings, dressed, and started out to find their way back; the tall, hulking Damon on her right and the sweet, funny Jared on her left. There was a silent understanding that what transpired in the cold, dark of last night, would be forever kept between them. They held her hands while they winded down the mountain and she spotted the smoke spiraling up into the air from the chimney of the lodge.

Look for Melissa's next short story on January 21, 2011.

~~*~~

~ Melissa Ecker ~

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Copyright © 2010 Melissa Ecker

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Lord of Shadows Part Two

Lord of Shadows is an ongoing serial story.

Content advisory: m/f sex

Recap: In part one, Sarah went to Tierney’s home. One the way she realized she was being followed. She ditched the man, an employee of her father’s, and went to Tierney. After she proclaimed her love for him, she gave him her virginity.

Tierney stood below Sarah’s window. He had to see her and no one was going to stop him. She hadn’t returned to his home since the night she’d given up her virginity to him over two weeks ago. He’d loitered in the shadows outside her home every night for the last three days hoping she would come out. He was tired of waiting.

Was she avoiding him? Or was her father keeping them apart. A growl rumbled in his chest. His bet was on the latter.

Warm golden light glowed at Sarah’s second floor bedroom window. A balcony ran the length of the house and at least three bedrooms had a door leading outside. Only about fourteen feet from the ground, reaching the balcony would be easy.

He grabbed onto the brick wall and easily climbed to the balcony where he leapt over the railing, landing silently. On cat-quiet feet, he sidled to the window and peeked inside.

Sarah sat at a delicate vanity table, brushing her hair with long strokes.

He tapped on the glass.

No response.

He rapped harder.

She spun around, eyes wide with alarm. Then she sprang from the little bench and hurried toward the door.

He caught his breath. Dressed only in her sleeping garments, her curves were a feast for him to visually devour. Then she yanked open the door and snatched at his arm, urging him inside. She shoved the door closed and pulled the drapes. “Was anyone down there?” she asked, fear in her eyes.

The blood in his veins chilled. “I didn’t see anyone. Why?”

She slipped into the protective circle of his arms. “Someone has been patrolling around the house every night since I went to your home.”

“Why?” he asked though he really didn’t need to.

“Father knows I was gone most of the night when I was with you.” Her hand tightened on his arm. “He did everything short of striking me to find out where I was and who I was with.”

“What did you tell him?” His heart thumped hard.

“I told him that I couldn’t sleep and thought the night air and a walk would help me. I don’t think he believed me.”

“Why is that?” Though he was pretty sure he knew what she was going to say.

“Because I’ve never done anything like that before. It was totally out of character for me.”

He stroked her silky hair as his gaze darted around the room. Done in peach and cream, with delicate furniture, it suited her.

“The next night I noticed a man kept walking past the back of the house. Just like clockwork,” she said.

“He wasn’t down there tonight,” Tierney said.

“Maybe he went with my father. He left earlier in the day and he isn’t home yet.”

“Don’t worry. I’m careful.” He’d be extremely careful the next time he ventured back. If she couldn’t get to him. Wilkes was a dangerous man but so was he. And he had advantages Wilkes didn’t. He also had limitations Wilkes didn’t.

“I missed you so much. Kiss me, Tierney.” Her hand slipped around his neck and burrowed into his hair.

With her rose scent filling his senses, he bent and claimed her soft lips. His fangs lengthened in response. Her tongue nudged at his lip. Moaning, he opened and her warm tongue slid into his mouth, deepening the kiss. She tasted like sweet berries. Her tongue touched his fang, drawing a groan from him. His hips thrust forward, pressing his hard length against her. Indulging in the warmth of her skin and the silk of her gown, his hands moved over her back in long strokes.

After breaking the kiss, he moved to the cool column of her throat and pressed his lips to her fluttering pulse. A moan slipped from deep inside her. Excitement burned through him and he scraped his fangs along her skin. He pushed his cock harder against her. He needed her clothes off, needed to touch bare skin, needed to see her unwrapped and on display.

“Tierney,” she moaned.

She was going to get him killed if he wasn’t damn careful. He was playing a dangerous game and no one knew that better than him. And yet he had to have her.

How would she feel if she knew he’d been stalking her father when he first saw her? Avenging his best friend had been the only thing on his mind until the fateful moment he saw her on her father’s arm. And as bad as he wanted John Wilkes to pay for that death, he wanted her more. He’d promised himself that Matthew would be avenged.

He scraped his fangs over her throat again. Now he was in a position to make Wilkes hurt worse than he had. That fact hadn’t been lost on him, but it wasn’t what he wanted, because he would have to harm Sarah. And that would never happen. Not by him. Nor could he kill the dirty bastard. Not now.

He licked her skin, drawing a long whimper from her. She tasted faintly of vanilla and smelled like roses. She was a delight to his senses. A morsel to savor, relish, and devour. How lucky he’d been to find her. There was nothing greater he could ask for or want. She had very quickly become the center of his universe and his reason for being.

His hand slid up and cupped her breast, while his thumb fluttered over the pebbled nipple. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts higher.

Her hands caressed his back in delightful strokes, sending little ripples of pleasure over his skin in waves. He could not live without her. That was the frightening thing. He needed her just as he needed blood to remain alive. And sooner or later, he would have to make a decision. He knew that, and somewhere deep inside her, she probably already realized it too.

Then what? Right now, with her in his arms, it would be easy, probably for both of them. But it could never be done that way. This was something she would have to think long and hard about when the time came.

He lifted his head and gently pushed her back. “Sarah, do you really love me? I know you said you do, but. . . Have you given thought to our long term relationship?”

Gazing into his eyes, her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. “I know you think I haven’t thought this through. But how couldn’t I? My father would butcher you without remorse.”

She pressed her head into his shoulder. “I know you’re good, your heart is beautiful.” She hesitated. “I know you have to hunt, and I’m not stupid, I’m sure you’ve killed before, whether you intended to or not. I know vampires are predators. And none of that is enough to make me give you up.”

She stroked his back. “The first time I saw you, I was enthralled. I had to have you, Tierney. You’ve been nothing but wonderful to me. And yes, I love you. More than anything. More than my father.”

She pressed into him again, rubbing against his length.

Unable to stop himself, he groaned long and deep.

Then her hands were on his chest, working the buttons on his shirt loose. She pulled his shirt free from his britches and shoved the garment off his shoulders. It dropped to the floor. Her warm hands caressed his skin, sending pleasure through him in rolling waves.

She leaned forward and her tongue swirled over his nipple. A shock of pleasure went straight to his balls. His head kicked back and he groaned when she moved to his other nipple. Her tongue fluttered across the hard little bud while her hands massaged his biceps. She almost had him purring with pleasure.

One soft hand disengaged and slipped over his skin, easing inside his pants. Her warm fingers touched his cock, wrapped around it and squeezed gently. Her hand slid along his dick in short, smooth strokes until his hips bucked forward.

“God, Sarah, that feels so good.”

She lengthened her stroke, pulling a groan from him.

After long moments she eased out of his pants and stretched up to kiss him. Their tongues twisted together in a dance of passion then they broke apart.

He maneuvered her backward toward the bed until her legs bumped the mattress. After another honeyed kiss, he hesitated then said, “Want to try something different?”

A slow smile curled her lips.”What?”

“I want to take you from behind. I can go deeper that way.”

“You mean. . .the way animals do it?”

He laughed. “Honey, animals aren’t the only ones who do it that way.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Will you try it?”

“Yes.” She flushed bright pink.

He kicked off his shoes, undid his pants, and dropped them to the floor. Her eyes fastened on his erect cock. She reached out and took him in her hand, stroking slowly down his shaft then back up.

“You make me feel so good,” he said.

“I’m glad.” She rewarded him with more slow strokes until a crystal drop formed at the tip.

He gently extracted himself from her grasp. “My turn, let me give you pleasure now.” He caught her hips and gently turned her until she faced the bed. The mattress sat at an almost perfect height. “Brace yourself on your forearms.”

She positioned herself with her rear slightly elevated, perfect to receive him. He grasped the blue silk of her gown and hoisted it up around her waist. She was bare beneath.

He ran his hands over her firm rump then slipped one hand between her legs. His fingers slid into moisture. He rubbed her nub, stroking it with a light touch until her hips began to rock. He applied more pressure and greater speed. Her hips gyrated faster in response. Moments later she wailed and ground on his hand.

When she stilled, he slipped a finger inside her and pumped in her wet channel. He added a second finger. Groaning, she leaned back into his thrusting fingers, taking him deep inside. Her clenching walls gripped him tight.

He withdrew his fingers from her slick heat and moved behind her where he grasped her hips. His cock slipped between her legs and slid along her wet folds. Moaning, she pushed against him. He pulled back then slid forward, rubbing himself on her skin.

“Tierney,” she moaned. “Stop teasing.”

Her pleas poured over him like hot honey. He eased back once more then drove forward until he was at her entrance, then he pushed into her, not stopping until he was balls deep in her wet heat. Groaning, he reared back, then thrust forward, ramming deep.

“Please. Faster,” she said as her hands fisted into the sheets.

Growling, he drove with hard, fast strokes that pushed her forward with each thrust until she cried out and shoved back into him. Shuddering, she clawed at the bed as her pussy milked him with tight contractions. When she stilled, he withdrew from her clenching heat.

“Up on the bed,” he said, urging her to reposition on the mattress. “I want to lie with you face to face to finish.”

She crawled up into the middle of the bed where she propped herself on a stack of pillows. A mischievous smile spread over her face as she drew her legs up then spread them, affording him an unobstructed view of her glistening sex.

With his cock hardening even more at the erotic sight, he prowled up the mattress and eased between her open legs though he didn’t position himself to enter her. Instead, he kissed her navel, swirling his tongue in the little indentation. Then he blazed a trail of kisses up to her breasts. His tongue laved over the taut peak of one while his hand caressed the other.

Her gasp spurred him on. Drawing the tight bud into his mouth, he suckled on it until she arched her back, mewling in pleasure. He lavished attention on the lovely mounds until she brought her legs together, squeezing him between them.

He lifted his head, meeting her hungry gaze.

She relaxed her legs and thrust her hips up, pleading wordlessly.

Her need gouged deep into him and his own answered. Rearing up over her, he fitted himself fully to her. His cock nudged her entrance then filled her. Her hips pushed up, taking every inch of him. Now he slid easily in her tight confines, unlike the very first time he’d taken her. Their motions were smooth, perfect, in tune with each other.

He gave and she took. Their moans blended, became one. She gave and he took. Locked together, working together, he sought to bring her to new heights of pleasure.

“Tierney! Harder,” she cried.

He drove harder, faster.

He claimed her lips in a searing kiss as he thrust into her. When he broke the kiss, he said, “Sarah, I love you with all my heart. I want you to know that.”

Her arms tightened around him. “I know. I love you, too.” Digging her nails slightly into his back, she turned her head. “Take from me, Tierney.”

On the verge of orgasm, fangs aching to do just that, he didn’t need a second invitation. His fangs pierced her and blood filled his mouth. Swallowing in greedy abandon he lost track of everything except driving into her and taking her blood.

She released, pushing up to him with a soft cry.

Tierney worked harder. His balls tightened and then he exploded with a grunt of pleasure. He rode out his orgasm, filling her with worthless seed.

Groaning against her skin, he continued feeding.

A moan slipped out of her, penetrating his blood fogged mind.

He jerked back with a horrified yelp.

Her eyes mirrored confusion.

Blood ran from the twin punctures and slid down the pale column of her throat. She reached for him.

“Sarah,” he cried. “Oh, God, forgive me.” He gathered her in his arms.

“I’m okay,” she said and caressed his cheek.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen. . .I. . .I lost track of how much I was taking.”

She caught his face between her hands, her gaze meeting his. “I’m okay, just a little weakened.”

“I promise you. I’ll never let that happen again.” His insides quivered with nausea. He’d almost lost complete control. A few more minutes and Sarah would have been taken too far. Then no choice would have remained for either of them.

He rocked her gently, murmuring words of love and remorse.

“It’s all right, my love.” She rallied in his arms and pressed her lips to his as his arms tightened possessively around her.

A door slammed down on the first floor followed by heavy footsteps and muted voices though he clearly heard every word.

“That one died hard,” a strange voice said.

Chills pimpled Tierney’s skin.

Her father laughed. “Not nearly as hard as that bastard who’s been sniffing around my house is going to die. He must be thinking of striking first.”

The other man snorted.

“If you hadn’t lost him the other night we would have dispatched him today instead of that fledgling,” her father said.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah said.

“Your father knows I’ve been coming around here at night.”

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. “You must be careful. He’s dangerous.”

He kissed her gently. “Don’t worry. He isn’t going to catch me.” Saying he would have to be more careful was an understatement. It would be easy enough to go downstairs and kill Wilkes. And if he was smart, that’s what he would do. But how could he kill Sarah’s father and keep her love?

No matter how much she loved him, it wouldn’t survive the death of her father. And he knew it.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

Now if he could just make himself believe it.

~***~

Please return 1/31/11 for another installment of Lord of Shadows and 1/17/11 for the next installment of Shades of Crimson.
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Copyright © 2010 Nickie Asher

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.