Archive for November, 2017
Another post inspired by Exhibit A’s erotica prompts. Breakups are terrible, but breakup sex can be a powerful experience.
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He opened the door and took her in with his eyes. The idea, as far as he knew, was for her to simply collect her things and be on her way. The ensemble she prepared did exactly what it was supposed to do – he traced the outline of her body with his eyes the way he would with his tongue and fingers if this was any other occasion. Instinctively, he pulled her into a hug. Before he could remember their circumstances and pull away from her, the perfume she’d selected danced into his consciousness and his eyes closed. His mouth found the curve of her neck, and she invited his lips to brush against her. She tilted her head back slightly to give him the full access he craved and he fell into the trap she set. She closed her eyes and exhaled heavily into a chuckle.
“Is that the bag over there?” She ran her hands down his arms and back to her sides, making sure to just graze the bottom of the skirt so that her ass was wrapped in the flowing fabric and the stockings were visible. He could feel himself harden as he remembered the last time she wore this outfit, and how easy it was to bend her over in the metro car and have his way around her lips with his tongue. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s all yours.”
She walked over to the bag on the floor – of course it was on the floor. Why wouldn’t it be? She walked over to it and crossed her ankles for stability, bending down to pick it up. She could feel the circulating air flowing over her body. As always, she wore nothing at all under her skirt, and the breeze was energizing.
“Thanks for the stuff. There was something else I wanted to make sure you got to keep.” She kept her eyes on his and walked over to his bed. From her purse, she pulled the toy they often used together. It was a simple shafted vibrator, but the ways he used it on her made it one of her favorite toys. “But you sit there and don’t move.” She gestured to the chair that sat in front of his desk, and she positioned herself on her knees on his bed.
Her hands began by brushing some hair away from her face. He watched her fingers delicately dance down her neck and over her breasts. She moaned as she breathed, soaking in his watching her to fuel her confidence. Still moving down, she tugged at the waist of her skirt. It slipped over her ass and fell to the bed around her. She adjusted her position to move her feet from beneath her and leaned back on her elbows. As she did this, her knees naturally fell apart, presenting to him to enjoy how ever he saw fit.
He moved toward her with hesitation. This wasn’t what this was supposed to be. But he was drawn – pulled into her by something he couldn’t identify. He approached her and paused to take in what he could. Sights, temperature change, and finally taste flooded over him as he landed softly. Her eyes closed and her head craned back – this would never cease to catch in her chest. His tongue knew exactly where to go and how to massage every part of her. He pulsed against her steadily and she felt her face get warm. Gentle beachy waves of pleasure lifted her from underneath him, and she pulled his face up to meet hers.
He cradled her head with one hand as he tugged at his belt with the other. If this was the last opportunity, he wanted to make sure to feel everything he could. After what seemed like an endlessly complicated belt and button combination (were his pants always this unreasonable?) he finally broke free. In one fluid motion, he moved into her and felt her warmth and wetness surround him. He didn’t notice the constraints of his pants, still wrapped around his knees, or the fact that he was beginning to think of all the things that would be missing after today. Instead, he focused on the moment and enjoying each other as much as possible.
Sunlight poured in from the window behind them. Each moment, each kiss, each finger laced in the others seemed limitless and momentary at the same time. She noticed that her cheeks were warm again, but this was not flush with pleasure. Tears streamed down her face and mixed with their kisses, breathless and desperate. But this was the way it needed to be. It just wasn’t going to work, even though they wanted it to. Their hips found each other and moved in unison. Usually, they staggered orgasms so each of them could focus on the other. This wasn’t the way today would go. He kissed her and she pulled him into her, feeling the light building inside her. She put his face in her hands and opened her eyes. “Stay with me…” she said, trusting his eyes to hold her safely over the crest of each wave. He trusted her, too, and he couldn’t keep his own waves from crashing with hers in a never-ending cycle of hands and bodies and kisses.
She stared at the ceiling for days, weeks, but probably only minutes. It was time to get up and move on with reality. He was sound asleep. It was better this way. She could slip out of his room, out of his view, out of his consciousness. She got dressed, gathered her things, and left. When she closed the car door behind her, she sat reflecting on everything that had been said and done, but mostly what was still unsaid. She pulled the visor down to check that she wasn’t as scarred on her face as she was in her head. To her great satisfaction, through all the pain, her eyes stayed blue.
Recently, the ever-inpiring Exhibit A Unadorned gave the challenge of composing erotica set to music lyrics. I love this idea, as a music lover, an erotica lover, and a lover in general. Without further ado…
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It wasn’t that the sex had become stale, exactly – it was actually excellent each time. It’s just that it had become rather formulaic. He would say this, she would do that, and it would always be satisfying, but never unexpected. She decided to change this.
She kissed him goodnight, as she always did, but this time, she put the slightest bit of strength behind it. He couldn’t roll her over as he usually could. It was clear to him that she would take the control now, and he wasn’t sure exactly what to do with it. She pressed her mouth into his and overtook his attempts to take control of her. It wasn’t his turn.
She moved her hand to his growing cock. He wasn’t used to this side of her, but he was far from not enjoying it. She usually hid herself and her pleasure from him, and he needed to actively seek it out. Tonight, he would need to keep particularly aware of himself in order to assume the roles they were used to. He began to doubt he could. When her hand wrapped around him, it was firm and with intention – she was going to work him until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
She began with slow strokes, bending over him and allowing saliva to drip down to cover his head. She alternated between her hands and twisted them over his shaft in opposite directions, slipping over each other in unpredictable patterns. She kept her eyes locked on his the whole time, seeing every movement register on his face. After a few minutes of stroking him, she bent her head down and took him completely into her throat once, then lifted her mouth off of him. It was synchronized with her hands, and it caught him off guard as she continued to do it. He could feel the pressure building up, and was ready to explode over her face and tits, as he was accustomed to doing.
She stopped.
He opened his eyes and tried to catch his breath. “Stroke your cock for me.” She sounded certain and full of purpose as she directed him.
When he looked at her, she had removed her hands from his body and instead was rummaging in the drawer of the nightstand next to her side of the bed. “Oh, good,” he thought, “She’ll get her toy out and I can finish her right.” She did pull out her favorite toy – a double-headed glass dildo that was kept in a black velvet case. She also pulled out a bottle of lube. “Odd…” he thought, since he was certain that she had more than lubricated him to be able to glide in and out of her with very little effort at all.
“I don’t recall telling you to stop. Keep your hands gliding over yourself until I tell you not to anymore.”
He assumed the familiar position and pace, stroking his full shaft. She had done such a complete job of getting him to this point that he was closer than he thought to cumming. His breathing increased as he brought himself to the edge.
“Stop. Not yet”
She pulled the velvet bag off of the dildo and applied a generous mountain of lubricant to the head. He was still on his back, and she lifted his knees.
“What are you doing?”
“You always make it clear that you want more anal in our repertoire. I’m giving it to you.”
She spread the lube around the head of the dildo, and then some excess around his ass hole. She had been there before – for all of his machismo, he loved having a tongue swirl around his ass hole, and she was happy to help him. She had even gone so far as to slowly glide a finger in and out of him, if he was up for it. She knew he would happily inhale the anxiety and allow her to completely penetrate him.
She started slowly – rubbing the slippery tip of the dildo around his ass. She could tell he was excited – possibly a little bit nervous. “Don’t worry – you know you’ll love a nice thick dick up your ass. You love it when I slide my fingers in there – think about what this will feel like.” He relaxed. She decided to help him along. She reached up and wrapped her hand around him again. She was right – he was more excited than nervous. His cock was harder than she remembered it being in recent history, and it pulsed and twitched at her touch. Perhaps she had done her prep work *too* well.
The inhale as she pushed the ribbed bubbles of her toy into his ass came from a different place inside of him. This was anxiety, pleasure, relief, and surprise all intertwined together as one unmistakable noise. She slowed down, but only to check on him before she continued again. She syncopated her long strokes on his cock and the long pulses with the dildo.
“Was I right? Do you love it?”
“I love it.”
“Excuse me?” She stopped both.
“I love it, ma’am.”
“I know you do. Why do you like it?”
“Because you’re in control, ma’am.”
“That’s right. I’m in control right now. I say where you get fucked and when you cum. Where’s my toy?”
“In my ass.”
She stopped. “What did you fucking say?”
“In my ass, ma’am.”
She began to rotate the dildo as she pulsed inside him, and it glided over the spot she knew would make him explode. His stomach tightened.
“I’m going to cum… “
“Good. Get yourself filthy.”
She kept working him on both ends as he came. His brow furrowed, and with each exhale, he let out more and more animalistic noises. He was completely out of control of his situation. The pleasure, the pain, the tightness, the release – they were all hers to own. His back arched the opposite direction and she slowed down in his ass. Although she loved being in control, she wanted to make sure he landed softly and (most importantly) with the desire to do this all again. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it for grounding, and eventually he opened his eyes again. Between his heavy breathing, he trembled as the remaining waves of pleasure washed over him. She could see in his face that he was completely vulnerable – not a place he was used to being after one of their sessions.
She moved around his body and pulled his mouth to hers. He sank into her, safe and satisfied in her control. They lay for several minutes before finally emerging to clean everything up, but they both knew that this unexpected detour off of their path had changed their course permanently. From here, they would write new history with each other. And it would be mind-blowing.
the devil's in the details 