third

He guides me
my commander and
collaborator
coaxing the engine within
until it churns with the
mechanical velocity of
rage
fiercely generating a heat
that threatens to consume
not just me
but all of Us
His hands
slow mine
teaching, training
painful pleasure amplified
by anticipation

left to my own devices
my impatience
the reckless ache
of my need
might rip her to
pieces
but bound against my
eager exploration
He controls us both

His whispers in my ear
instructions
which somehow slow my blood
but roar through me
like a freight train
vibrations that pass
through us
both
and reverberate
out
like the hot
stinging
flush
on her body

pressed into her
by Him
filled to an
unimaginable depth
I find My Power
beneath the
forceful demanding presence of
His
and sandwiched
between
D and s
I explore the rich
intoxicating
fullness
of being
wanted by both

of being
the undefinable
third

Bed Sheets

Love between the sheets by millionmilesofwater via DeviantArt.com
Love between the sheets by millionmilesofwater via DeviantArt.com

Incandescence permeates
the thin cloth we hide beneath
Is it the sunset, or the sunrise?
Or is it us, glowing from within?
I cannot tell how long we’ve been here
Beneath these bed sheets
Wading in and out of
The warmth of each others delight.
It started with the promise of
Your hands, those lovely fingers,
So strong and reaching,
Clinging to my face as you searched…
Your clear, cogent stare seeking
Out the bubbles of doubt and fear
That percolated behind my eyes….
Your sweet, gentle, knowing smile
Popping each one with precision
Until my own hands softened and urged
Those lips to taste away any remnants
Of my trepidation.
And I surrendered.
In potent kisses,
Whispered words,
And gasping giggles,
My body becomes your candle.
You light me, ignite me, melt me
Into a puddle of sighs and pleas that
Dash against you fervently
Warming you from the outside in.
But still, we are incomplete.
Your coaxing and urging turn to
Pinning and taking.
No longer a question,
Submission is required.
And my stinging skin is
Reward for us both.
The last of your will
Lands, glistening, on my flesh.
Salty strands of love for me to
Play in, taste and treasure.
After our skin cools
And heartbeats slow,
You carry me beneath the shower.
Where the water pressure
Is a delicious reminder of
The wicked sin that is our pleasure.
All that you can deliver,
I want it bad
I want it again, and again, and again.
So that when I wake to see
Incandescence permeate these bed sheets,
I can smile at you and
Feel your smile in return.
Just as you are, my sun.

Pressure by Milk & Bone

You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
All that you can deliver, I want it bad
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
I can feel in my fingers all the last inner comfort of your
Bed sheets, your bed sheets
Is this your heart beat?
Or is it mine?
Heavy but slowly,
Save it for now
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
All that you can deliver, I want it bad
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
I can feel in my fingers all the last inner comfort of your
Bed sheets, your bed sheets
They turn with hunger,
Poll soaked with mine
Better and deeper into your mind
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
All that you can deliver, I want it bad
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
I can feel in my fingers all the last inner comfort of your
Bed sheets, your bed sheets

My blanket fort

image

Beneath the
Soft swaths of sheets
In the dewy light
Of morning
Your fingers are slaves
To my skin
Your breath is sin
On my flesh
I’m lost in the
Sweet pain
I’m found in the
Unprecedented
Ecstacy
Playful tickles
Turn to joyous
Surrender as
I watch your lips
Roam
Through the language
Of your passion
And then feel them
As they are part of me
On my desperate mouth
On my sensitive skin
On my slick, wanton flesh
Beneath this canopy
Created lovingly
For the girl
Who never grew out
Of such things
You explore the
Woman
Enraptured in
The adventure
She can bring
But beyond exploration
As you bury yourself
Inside my slippery
Sweetness
And my body sings
Our union
Under the blankets
Of our love
It is not that of
Two souls finding
Each other
But that of one
Reuniting
The pleasure builds
Slowly
Then fervently
Until our bodies
Are embattled
In the loving game
Only we
Can create

Baby Doll

Precious and sweet

Oh, little baby doll

He loves her

He holds her on his lap

He combs through her silky hair

He memorizes her seawater gaze

He traces over her luscious lips

His magic girl

If only she could be real

His Baby Doll

He could show her the world

He could teach her so much

He could mold her into ultimate perfection

He could love her, truly love her

Oh, baby doll

Sweet, baby doll

Be real, little baby doll

image
Everyday by LadyRavenswood via DeviantArt.com

Know me

Darker than you realized
More wicked than you understood
I tried to show you many times
As often as I could

My fantasies are lurid
My desires, deviant
But my love for you is solid
Please don’t say you can’t

Let me test your limits
Let me explore your mind
Let me show you inside me
Please don’t remain so blind

I want you more than anything
I want you to really see
I want YOU to be my fantasy
But you must get to know the real me

Broken Diamond

The dark by EliseEnchanted via DeviantArt.com
The dark by EliseEnchanted via DeviantArt.com

She was as beautiful as a precious gem. She sparkled in the sun and glittered in the candlelight.

The warmth that shone from inside her was mesmerizing, but if you picked her up, she was cold and hard, with sharp edges that made her difficult to hold.

He didn’t mind. He polished and protected her, wrapping her up and keeping her out of sight of others who may admire her beauty and try to steal her away from him.

Had he paid attention, he would have noticed her inner glow diminish, each time he locked her away, blocking the sun from feeding her.

Had he looked closely, he may have seen the tiny cracks that grew, each day, as she was left to try to manufacture her own light, instead.

Had he witnessed them, he might have figured out that she wasn’t the stone he believed her to be at all.

But one day, as he sat polishing and admiring his prize, he did see one of those imperfections, and held her to the light to examine her closely.

The flaws he saw were startling and significant, causing him to drop her to the ground… where she cracked into pieces.

Nothing but a bit of glass. Not created to impress, but molded to fool, ensnare, and hold captive.

And HE was the fool who had kept her, trapped inside, for so long.

Once she was free of her shell, she soaked up the magic of the sun and grew more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

She took on the fiery attributes that fed her, dancing and swirling with such magnificence that all he could do was stare, and wonder at her extraordinary new form. Before looking away, baffled by what he couldn’t comprehend.

“I didn’t know,” he cried in despair.

“You didn’t try to know,” she said softly, watching him sadly for a while, before gliding out into the lovely light of day.

As she skipped and danced and revelled in her freedom, she found a different world around her.

People watched her, others joined her, many delighted in her in a way no one ever had, while she was trapped within that capsule.

She basked in the pleasure of an audience, enveloping herself in it at every turn.

But, when the sun set, the crowd disappeared. And the darkness pressed into her lightness with a fury.

Suddenly, drawn to the edges of the shadows, she was overtaken with need. Some mysterious presence magnetized her, as though the fire within her was molten steel.

Out of the blackness strode a new admirer. Strong and capable, with eyes that she knew could see everything, and a sadness that was almost enchanting, in it’s strange, taciturn way.

He leapt on her, like a beast of the night, drinking in her light and feeding off her power.

She did not fight him, but begged him to continue, to devour her, to reduce her to the quivering, mewling mess she’d never known that she always wanted to be.

When he had his fill, he lifted her and cradled her, whispering sweetness and love, and promising that his darkness would never overcome her lightness. Then he carried her into the sunrise, so that she might feed on it’s magic, forever.

“I am but a broken diamond, flawed and discarded,” she warned, longing to avoid the despair she had caused, once before.

“You are priceless, my precious gem, and I will guide you to see that truth, as you have guided me into the light.”

Dearest Reggie…

This post is a bit of fan-fic dedicated to the amazing Eric Keys who hasn’t written anything in his series Letters to His Mistress for entirely too long because he’s stalled, bored, and/or has been spending time writing stuff he would actually like to make money on, or something. Bad blogger… 😉
In an effort to inspire him to finish, I’ve written this letter from Edith’s P.O.V. (the mistress, who Reggie calls Eden).
If you haven’t read his series, this piece will make little sense (especially the end) and I encourage you to click over to LTHM to catch up. While you’re over there, leave Mr. Keys a message to let him know what you think. If you don’t feel like it, read on anyway, just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Oh wait…
**WARNING – This is not my typical style of erotica, and includes a bit of horror towards the end. 
(For those of you anxiously awaiting new material from ME in Good Girl and Moonlighting, it is my plan to wrap up both in the following week or two. So… no eye rolling or lectures… please? Feel free to give Mr. Keys a hard time, though…)

Dearest Reggie,

I can’t believe it hasn’t quite been two weeks since I last saw you. It feels like weeks, maybe months.  I won’t go into everything that has happened, because I’m quite sure Abe has kept you well-informed.

To be perfectly honest, I’ve been happy to have had him around, several times.

I know you’ve been very busy, dealing with “things coming to a head”. Abe has even made some excuses about you not contacting me, but I will admit to some insecurity. Imagining you with some, young, lovely lady does turn me on, but I’d prefer to think of you missing me as much as I miss you. I’d prefer to think of you lusting after me, alone. You said, “…one mistress is enough. But sometimes, things happen.” I hope they have not.

I certainly have no right to make demands on that issue. But I assure you, sweetheart, I do not plan to find any young stallion to use. My only wish is to use you.

I can’t stop thinking about you. About our last few days together. God, Reggie, my body has never been so alive. I feel an actual, physical need for you. I’ve been masturbating at the rate of a teenage boy. Sometimes, several times a day, to the point of actually making myself sore.

I’ve already stopped once, just while writing this letter to you. I’m crazed with lust for you. I fantasize about you coming to my office and crawling under my desk to pleasure me with that delicious tongue of yours. I’ve only been wearing skirts and dresses to the office in some twisted hope to make that fantasy come true.

I imagine you making me moan and purr with delight. I picture myself climbing under there with you, straddling your face while I take your beautiful dick into my own mouth. The perfection of our simultaneous pleasure would be heard throughout the floor, but I wouldn’t care. After I coated your face in my musk, I’d push you out from beneath the desk so that I could get your legs into the air and have full access to your manhood.

I’d stroke your length while licking and kissing down your balls until my tongue found that soft spot between your sac and your ass. I’d massage it with my tongue and tease your puckered hole until you were wet with my saliva. I’d push inside, driving you wild, then I’d fuck your ass with my finger and take your cock back into my mouth.

Just before you were about to explode, I’d climb on top of you and fuck you like it was the last day of my life. I’d come all over you while you were coming inside of me. And, just to prove I really had you, I’d kiss and lick you all over until you were hard again.

I just had to masturbate, again. I want you so bad, Reggie. I need you.

The dreams have gotten so intense, lately. I sometimes wake more than once, during the night, on the verge of orgasm. When I told you about them, I had hoped to purge myself of them. But now, the rare nights that they don’t appear, I find that I miss them, in a sense.

One of the dreams, last week, was absolutely terrifying. The demons had us both chained, and were torturing me, while forcing you to watch. Your eyes were wide, but your face was set like stone. They cut open my skin with their claw-like fingers. They moved the burning chains around so they could access fresh flesh. They used their barbed tongues and talons on my breasts and pussy, driving me insane with pain and pleasure.

Several times, when I thought I was about to die, I would see your raging, hard cock, and would be suddenly out of my mind with orgasm. Finally, during one of those orgasms, you broke free of your chains and ripped the demons apart before fucking me, wildly, covered in their vile flesh.

When I woke, my husband was screaming at me to stop, because I was writhing and finger fucking myself, right there, next to him. I didn’t stop. Until I came.

He is sure something is wrong with me, because through all of this masturbating, I can’t have sex with him. I can’t even imagine it, sweetheart, because all I can think of is you. I’ve slept in the spare bedroom since that night. He’s barely spoken to me, other than trying to get me to go to church and speak to our pastor, again.

With everything else that has happened, I simply no longer see the point.

The dreams are horrific, for sure. I do not understand why they make me feel like they do. But it is almost as if they are a surrogate for you. I feel more sated from the orgasms I have from those dreams than any, in between. Almost as satisfied as I would be with you.

But I won’t be satisfied again, until I have you in my arms. Please, sweetheart. Whatever is keeping you from me, I wish you’d sneak away.

I need you, Reggie.

Love,
Your ‘Eden’

lipstick kiss

Candy Girl

Miss Gingerbread by Ophelia-Overdose via DeviantArt.com
Miss Gingerbread by Ophelia-Overdose via DeviantArt.com

She’s got it all,

Those red hot lips,
sweet soft tongue,
taffy tits.

She is a doll,

So cute with hearts,
ribbons, and bows,
all those parts.

Her pretty hair,

Like cotton candy,
tied in tails,
smells just dandy.

She’s so fair,

Staring at you,
with lust filled eyes,
what a view.

You’d never guess,

That she’s a witch,
prepared to poison,
with just a twitch.

She’s just a pest,

That sweet little thing,
she’s incomplete,
but so tempting.

She’ll break your heart,

Sex so divine,
she may just leave you,
weak and blind.

Still, play your part,

Your wicked plan,
for you’re her reason.
You are The Man.

And after you’ve,

Tasted how sweet,
desire can be,
where lovely thighs meet.

You could prove,

By holding tight,
kiss her, breathe her,
through the night.

That it is you,

Who is immune,
to her sweet venom,
and she will swoon.

Then, it IS You,

Who will decide,
if she’s just a conquest,
or your candy bride.

Rag Doll

Doll by Smokemysoul via DeviantArt.com
Doll by Smokemysoul via DeviantArt.com

You told me to dress up, make myself look different. At first I thought Barbie Doll, but I could never be her. Of course, I am your Baby Doll, so a pretty, baby doll dress was a clear choice.

I sit at the table and wait, in my sweet little dress, with a satin sash and ribbons in my hair. I look very pretty, but not at all like a real baby doll.

My full, round breasts are barely contained by the pale blue fabric above the fuschia sash, and my legs are coated in white silk and capped in pink patent leather stilettos. My hair is barely restrained in twin braids that hang over each shoulder.

I’m already wet with anticipation, my thighs dampening above the lacy tops of my nylons due to my lack of panties.

I check my makeup in a spoon and nervously fidget with the napkin on my plate.

Then I feel the air change. That electricity that flows between us doesn’t need touch, it just snaps through the air like lightening.

I feel my nipples harden and swallow as you step behind me and lean down, gripping the braid over one shoulder so that you can whisper in the opposite ear.

“Hi, baby doll… You look good enough to eat!”

Oh your voice, when you speak with the power and command that bubbles from inside but that you only allow out in small doses… That thick, deep voice that melts over me and makes me want to rub you into my skin…

I could cum, just hearing your voice.

“I love your shoes, little girl. You like playing dress up?”

I turn as you stand and I smile up at you, I can feel color filling my cheeks. You chuckle down at me and extend your hand.

I take it, and rise, before you slowly turn me in order to take me completely in. I know what I look like and am pleased to find your sad eyes dancing with delight.

“My pretty girl…” you growl, pulling me against you, where I feel how much you like my attire, pressed hard and thick against my hip.

Your lips find my neck while your fingers pull at the cap sleeve of the dress to reveal my shoulder. You sink your teeth into that special spot that makes me convulse then back me against the wall behind me.

You step away and sit in the chair I just vacated, leaning back to look at me. “Touch yourself, sweet girl.”

I grin at you, devilishly before performing the masturbatory seduction I’ve imagined dozens of times. For you, my delicious Daddy.

I lift my fingers to my lips, coyly before letting them trail down my throat and collarbone. Dipping them into the strained fabric barely covering my breasts and pulling down slightly to expose one of my thick, pink points.

I pinch and twist it, gasping and closing my eyes, while my other hand snakes it’s way under my dress. I stroke my dripping lips, still hidden from you, beneath my skirt and moan softly, making you groan and rub your hard cock through your jeans.

I drop my other hand from my breast to lift the hem so you can see. You take in a sharp breath at the sight of my pretty fingers kneading my smooth pussy. As I push my fingers through my slit and into my quivering cunt, you groan again, making my knees weak.

“No panties, baby doll?” You whisper, as you kneel in front of me.

I shake my head, tossing my braids slightly as you grab my fingers and guide them into your mouth.

“Mmmmmm,” you rumble, sucking off my silkiness before guiding my hands to hold the hem of my dress at my hips. “Sugar and spice, sweet girl.”

I moan before you even touch me, your presence is like liquid heat. I steel my knees to hold me up and watch you stroke a single finger over my swollen clit, peeking from between my puffy lips.

Your touch nearly makes me explode. I hum when I feel your breath and watch you touch your lips to me. Your tongue presses flat while your finger slips inside. I’m shuddering and clenching immediately until you growl, softly, “If you cum before I give you permission, I’ll send you straight to bed.”

I whimper and force myself to settle, looking down into your pale eyes. My heart races as your tongue returns to my clit, circling softly, and you add another finger inside me. My whole body shakes with my restraint as I hold myself back from the edge of bliss.

I’m not sure how long I manage to fight the incredible pleasure pushing me to soar, but at some point I realize you are now standing, facing me, working me with your magic fingers and rumbling, low, from deep in your chest.

I open my eyes to find yours flashing, lips curled in a delicious grin and slick with my juices. “Such a sweet girl, do you want to cum?”

I nod, panting and very close to complete desperation when you lean in until our lips touch. “Cum,” you growl, increasing the intensity of your fingers.

I release my dress and cling to your shoulders, knowing my knees will not hold. You wrap your arm around my waist and kiss me while I come apart and freefall into the waves of orgasm. You wring me out thoroughly until I’m bucking and squirming to break free.

But still, you won’t relent. Your fingers are merciless and your tongue demands to dance with mine, stealing my breath, my will and my strength. You turn us both and release my waist, to slide the china off the end of the table to the floor. I gasp, as it shatters, but you only smile that beastly grin against my mouth before kissing me again.

You guide me onto the table and cover my body with yours, but your fingers continue their play inside me. I’m panting, each time you let me up for air, and grinding against you feverishly, tiptoeing the edge of oblivion yet again.

“Oh, please Sir, may I cum again?” I plead against your mouth and you nod before your tongue darts between my lips, once more. Your hunger ignites the blast within me and I convulse, yet again, muscles firing and liquid desire dripping between my thighs to the surface below. I don’t know if it was ejaculate, of if I’m just that wet, but you don’t quit.

“Please, fuck me Daddy, please!” I beg, in the midst of your kiss. You roll off of me to stand, staring down at me, and I can tell that I’m in trouble by the gleam in your eye.

“How many times have you cum, little girl?” Your voice is so low and gravelly, I almost can’t answer as your fingers continue their torment, teasing and light, at the moment.

“…I …Twice, Sir.” I breathe, panting and writhing against your hand, trying to get just a bit more.

Then you jam your fingers inside of me, spreading my thighs and palming my clit. My eyes roll back in my head until I hear you rumble, “Don’t stop it, just let them go… I want them all, baby.”

Your free hand finds my throat, and I climax again. You suck and bite my nipples and I have another. You hum, and growl and tell me what a good girl I am, and take one more.

You tear orgasms out of me as though it were your purpose in life. I can barely breathe and have no idea what has happened by the time you climb on top of me again, undressed, crushing me with your kiss, then pinching and twisting my nipples.

I open my eyes to see you pulling my legs up and staring down at me. You practically roar as you slide inside of me, and within moments, you are drilling into me like a wild animal. I’m too weak and senseless to brace myself, which you quickly realize and grasp my throat to hold me steady.

The mind blowing combination sends me up over the edge in mere moments, and as you continue fucking me with the might of some crazed beast, I can’t tell where one orgasm stops and another begins. I start gasping, which causes you to release my neck, and instead brace yourself by gripping my tits, tightly against my own chest, which still leaves me breathless, but with more pain.

You let go, and I think I have another orgasm. You wrap yourself around me, bucking your hips into me so hard, I think I just might break open, but I cum again, anyway. Flopping about as if there were no bones inside my limbs.

You pull back and I open my eyes to see you grinning down at me, “My beautiful rag doll…”

Your ownership of me is far more than is needed to send me into a million pieces, one last time. And this one grips you fiercely, milking your own climax free, and sending your seed in long, shaking pulses deep inside me.

When you collapse on top of me, I somehow remain conscious long enough to thank you.

You lean on your elbows over me, pulling the ribbons from my hair and snaking your magical fingers through the waves. “Sweet girl, my precious baby doll…” You kiss me with the tender sweetness that coats that inner wildness of yours, that keeps the beast docile and in check.

Oh, how I love those sticky layers of yours, Sir.

And how I love being your rag doll.