Hunted

To look at him you would have never guessed it. Those captivating eyes with a majestic gaze, tanned skin, and sculpted frame. He had his pick no matter where he went. Over a dozen women fell prey to his charms before he was discovered. There was an evil that lurked inside of him. Normally, I would worry about him and his actions. Normally, I would chalk things up to fate. Until he picked the wrong women. My sweet, sweet Marlie she never done anything to anyone. Now, his soul better belong to Jesus, cause his ass belongs to me.  

Famished - Restructure (WIP)

Author note: This is a segment of my current erotic project. Like so many of our stories it started with a picture. A very talented writer sent me a short take on the picture. From there, I was able to conjure up this tale. Like I always say ... sometimes in the words of others, when can sometimes find our own. I hope you enjoy it

“Honey, this is Silvia. We were together a long time before I met you.”

“So this is the woman you left for me?”

Sophia smiled warmly, “Yes, honey this is the woman. “

I sat there for a few seconds before answering. I thought about my good fortune and suddenly I felt the warmth of pride swelling in my chest.  

“It is lovely to meet you, Silvia”

She smiled, “It is lovely to meet you as well. I always wondered who was the gent, who stole my girl?”

I began to chuckle and the girls joined me. We sat there talking about our lives and the things people talk about while they are in public. Sophia, hand taken my hand and scooted closer to me.  A waitress came by and took our order. Then it started,

“So Sophia, Yusuf must have an impressive cock.”

Sophia blushed, as she sipped her wine, “Yes he does.”

“I figured as much I remember well how you loved to suck a nice cock. So much in fact, I often wondered if you were into women at all.”

 Sophia looked at me for a second, “I believe I demonstrated my commitment.”

“Yes dear, you have quite the talented tongue. I am getting moist just thinking about how well you used it.”

I completely understood what Silvia was expressing my cock had begun to stiffen in response to the conversation. Sophia’s face was crimson. Her eyes sparkled and she rubbed her hand up and down my thigh. Before long she had reached my erection and smiled. Silvia watched us and spoke

“Tell me Yusuf, is this talk about her tongue exciting you?”

I nodded no, but Sophia quickly corrected me.

“He is as hard as rock.” Sophia explained

“Be a darling, and suck it for him.” Silvia suggested

Sophia eyes sparkled at Silvia’s suggestion. Her hand continued stroking my cock through my pants. If I didn’t get relief soon I was going to explode. Perhaps, I could excuse myself to the restroom and rub one out. It was too risky I could get caught. Sophia slowly unzipped my slacks and pulled out my cock. She stroked it slow and deliberate. I leaned back my head enjoying the sensation when I heard Silvia speak up.

“Sophia, you are stroking his cock, aren’t you? … you naughty bitch”

Sophia smiled and continued pleasuring me, “There was a time when you enjoyed my naughty side.”

Silvia licked her lips and drop her hand between her legs, “I still do, love.”  

I hope you have enjoyed this taste of my work...Below is a link for much more talented writers 

http://thursdaytasters.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/thursday-tasters-7-may-2015

Castles and Dreams

I desperately needed a vacation. My truck had broken down on the interstate and I left my wallet at home so I could call AAA. So I called my girlfriend. She rescued me 20 minutes later. Once we returned home I sat on the couch and started thumping through a travel magazine. Oh, how I wanted to me barefooted walking through the ocean of grass. So relaxing. My girlfriend cleared her throat, then I noticed her breasts were out called to me. My member began to stiffen, as took her nipple into my mouth. Now I just needed the castle. 

Eruption was eminent

Our friction continued to build as she leaned back. Her hands gripped each side of my torn shirt. We hadn't taken the time to get fully undressed. Sweat splashed in my face from her drenched hair slinging side to side. She rode me harder and harder with each pump. Our breathing was definitely labored, but neither one of us cared much.

For at this moment we were trapped inside a breathless gasp of ecstasy. Her body tightened as she rose up nearly coming completely off my cock. Letting out a shriek of passion....I could feel the warmth of her orgasm glide down my cock. I pulled her hips down on to me thrusting relentless hoping to intensify her orgasm. I suppose she could feel my cock begin to swell because began riding it harder and faster until I couldn't hold back anymore. I plunged my cock deep inside her. Our bodies stiffened and jerked until the orgasm subsided. Slowly she removed herself off my cock, lowering herself from between my legs. First, I resisted spreading my legs because I wasn't sure if I could handle anything more. She covered me with gentle kisses and light licks that could have parted the Red Sea. She slowly worked her way to my sac and began to massage them. Quick, light licks on each ball made my body jerk. I was torn between wanting her to stop, but I so desperately needing her to continue.

She lifted up my cock and slowly licked its length. Her eyes locked on mine. I began to drown in the sensuality of her gaze. I shuttered as her lips moved to gently touch my cheeks, nose, and earlobe, as she stroked me. The warmth of her breath sent a surge through every orifice of my body as she seductively whispered her intent in my ear. My pounding heart skipped and my breathing labored as her tongue traced the outline of my ear. My lover’s strokes continued with meaning and purpose. Each stroke took me closer and closer to the brink. I could see that she was biting down firmly on her bottom lip. Groaning and exhaling through her nose as she stroked slow and deliberate. Pre-cum had begun to form and my resistance was dwindling each moment. Her tongue began to dart and flicker all the head of my cock. Eruption was eminent…

The Haze

The darkness rolled in with a fury on the backs of the clouds. The wind began to howl, rattling the windows and slamming the shutters against the house. The scent of rain filled the room, but nay drop fell. The flame of the candle flickers in its aqua container, illuminating the room with its aura. His books stacked perfectly, each one resting on another, interlocked forming a barrier around him. Their spines spoke the tales within. Each tale blends with the next, filling his mind, filling his soul, like a lullaby. Slowly he begins to drift off into a haze, slowly he becomes its passenger, and slowly he becomes its spectator. He feels the warmth of her breath on his face, so soothing. He feels her soft, wet lips gently press against his cheek, pressing him deeper into the haze. A strand of her hair brushes across his brow, wiping away the doubt. Deeper he drifts. Deeper into the haze. Sometimes in the words of others, we somehow …somehow we find our own 

Nothing

I was young when I learned the Quill controlled me, I didn't control the Quill. We would sit and silently stare into the nothingness. A smile slowly creeps onto our face, a woman standing on the isle. Her body and soul captured in the melody of the sea that surrounds. We are dreaming the things we dream in the daytime. Our lover walks into the room, watching us smile and asks “What is it?” We are slightly startled because we didn't hear them come in. With a slight smile, as we’re pulled back from our special world. And simply say, “Nothing.” 

A Kiss

It was about an hour to get to her. An about hour I would be swallowing a drove of unspoken emotions I would get each time I took one look at her face. As I traveled across the asphalt ocean, I could see us sitting in the flower garden, talking about nothing in particular, just there spending time together. I longed to have the courage say what was on my heart. To tell her tonight we should surrender to passion. The passion that brews from a kiss. A rogue kiss where our tongues tangled and our lips explore one another.

Whispers Speak

I close my eyes, as the gentle breeze cools my overheated frame. The sun has tucked itself into the folds of darkness, closing the portal to the perception of light. However, it opens another portal to a dimension of undefined sounds and pleasures. I rest in my chair, as the wind brings me a tempting ballad. I can hear desire strumming the chords of a yearning soul. Moaning softly, I run my tongue across my parched lips. I like it when they call to me. I like when I hear the song their lips will never sing. Yes, I love it when their dreams speak....

Upon the breeze of an open window I appear. I see you step out of the shower and wipe away the steam from the mirror. Quietly, you stand there gazing at yourself, wondering if the person you see is really you. You slip into a silk nitey and open a chilled bottle of merlot. Your pour yourself a glass and sit on the edge of the bed. Your thoughts betray you. I moan as they surge through my body, awakening me. Slowly you moisten your lips, as your juices are flowing signaling your arousal is complete…

Guest Author Feature: Angelica Dawson

Will has no interest in women. He thinks them all animals to be trained, beaten. It doesn't take him long to discover his preference for men, but time and error reveal how wrong view toward women is. Before long, he is able to separate the way he treats women, which is still horrific, from the way he regards women, as fellow human beings. 

How does a slave become an equal? What does it take for a young man to see women in a new light? 

In the fourth installment of her Blue Moon House series, Angelica introduces Will, a slave boy from the early nineteenth century. You can purchase Slave on Amazon, Smashwords, and Naughty Nights Press.

Angelica Dawson is the author of Blue Moon House, which has been in the top ten best-selling titles at Naughty Nights Press for over six months. She has also written two short stories, “The Highest Bidder” and “Leave Taking” which were each included in anthologies.

She contributes flash fiction to several blogging collectives and excerpts from work in progress can also be found on her blog. She is active on Facebook  and Twitter.

She has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards – mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.

;

Here is an excerpt from Slave:

Will waited in the room he had recently cleaned. It was earlier than the vampires usually received their clients, but he was already in the house. He was also eager. He had left this room until last, and had put away his rags, mop and bucket, waiting for Nicholas.

“I didn’t hear you leave,” Nicholas said as he entered. “I was tempted to rest longer and make you wait, but I don’t want to strain your trust. Will, take off your clothes. When you are in this room, for any reason other than cleaning it, you will remove your clothes. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” He shed his pants quickly, tossing them in the corner. As usual, he hadn't worn a shirt.

“Good, now put your hands behind your back.”

Will obeyed, closing his eyes and trying to smooth his breathing.

Nicholas moved around him and Will looked over his shoulder but didn’t turn around. He heard wooden doors creak on their hinge, and then felt ropes wrap his wrists. His cock, beginning to elongate from undressing, stretched further.

“You like this?” Nicholas asked, the rope seeming to wind more and more, all the way to his elbows.

“Yes, M-Master,” Will answered, stuttering.

“Good. Now kneel.”

Will had to be careful to get down on his knees without falling on his face. He had no arms to brace himself with. He managed though, and as soon as he had, Nicholas rounded him and attached a small leather sleeve over his penis. He cinched it tight and Will experienced a new sensation. The pull toward his tip, normally steadily met with a surge back, was halted. His penis continued to fill, to throb, but none of his blood could come back.

“Master, I—”

“Silence,” Nicholas said. “Trust me, Will.” He bent over the boy and licked up the side of his neck. 

Will closed his eyes, enjoying the tingle and tickle the vampire’s wet tongue made. He’d only begun to sigh, when a pinch followed. Will cried out at the sudden piercing, then gasped at the fire that sped from his wound to his belly, his nuts, his bound cock.

“Master!” he shouted. “I’m going to explode!”

“No you aren’t, Will. That ring won’t let you.” As soon as Nicholas took his mouth from Will’s neck the fire began to subside. It was just as Nicholas had told him, the heat of passion itself was in their bite.

Circling Will, Nicholas repeated his procedure on the other side of Will’s neck. He screamed out again, the pain in his cock mounting as it tried to release and was unable.

“Soon, Will, soon,” Nicholas promised, smoothing the boy’s short curls, and tilting his head up for a kiss. Will happily accepted that, catching his breath while filling his heart. He might not have an understanding of love, but he was sure this was how it felt.

The Cold

Your skin sticks to metal. The air is so cold, you feel your lungs burn when you breathe. Tears stream uncontrollably from your eyes, but they still burn. The facial hair begins to stick together. The stinging of your lips cracking becomes unbearable. There is no relief for at least for four more hours. You close your eyes, letting your mind go for a moment. You let it travel to a place you nearly forgotten. You see her walking through the ocean of wild flowers. The sun makes her skin glisten and for a moment you forget about the cold. 

Soap (WIP) part 2

I had everything a guy could imagine, a trendy home, a trendy car, and a trendy girlfriend. As long as the books were selling, things were pretty awesome, but when the books stopped selling there went the house, the car, and the girlfriend. That's right, my life was a country and western song. Not even a top selling one, one of those songs that starts out in your mother's kitchen. She's humming while kneading some bread. The song doesn't make it any further than the front porch, while your mother is picking peas, your sister is peeling taters, and you are practicing your whittling with a bar of soap. Yet, I suppose it doesn't need to go any further than that. Because you know deep down, no one will ever sing it the way that Mama does.

The house was one of those country colonials, located in the middle of bum fuck Egypt. The place was supposedly good for writers, you know, serenaded by the silence, listening to the wind, or whatever ridiculous bullshit your realtor came up with before they separate you from some insanely large amount of money, never would you have considered spending just a year ago, back when you were a runny nose away from being homeless. A time when that master's degree in English literature you're so damn proud of; scored you a job making a dollar and quarter more than minimum wage at the local five and dime. It leaves you longing for the nights spent at the all-night diner, how you sat in the corner booth nursing a cup of burnt mud and playing with the loose corner of Formica on the tabletop. The kind of diner where the waitresses remember your order. They are the unsung beauty queens, who couldn't catch a break. You know, they were the actresses and the singers who took this job until they landed that big role or were discovered in a record store singing along to Paul Simon. Yet, they are refilling your coffee with weary crooked smiles fifteen years later. It is there in that same booth that you scribbled the opening scene to the novel that sent you into country living. The country where no one warned you about the enormous winter propane bill, the well water, higher gasoline prices, or the noisy neighbor with droopy boobs. Now, I really don't have anything against droopy boobs on an older woman; gravity and all, but this woman was in her early thirties. Every time I had a conversation with her, I swallowed a delicious desire to scream “Go put on a damn bra!!!”

6th Avenue Heartache

 

The Paradise was the local drive-in that was located at the end 6th avenue and Church, which was the neutral zone. This meant no gang activity at the drive-in. It was the only place in town where you could walk around without worrying about no one beating you senseless for simply being on the wrong side of town. My little brother, Trey, wanted to go see a double feature playing there this weekend. I was 17 and hanging out with your 12 year old little brother when you where supposed to chasing tail, wasn't ideal. In order to get to the Paradise, we had to cross enemy territory. I had knew the 6th Ave boys owed me a few beatings for jumping a couple of them when they got caught in my neighborhood. Trey didn't know anything about my part in the beating, but he had witnessed a few as they happened. 

"Moe?"

"Yeah, Trey"

"Why are they beating that man? What did he do?"

"Nothing, Trey .. Just in the wrong place; wrong time...you know?" 

"No I don't....make them stop, Moe" 

"I can't" 

"Why?"

"It's the world we know"

"It doesn't have to be" 

Soap

This snippet is a portion of on going project that I am writing as a result of wager with a beloved friend. Note to self ... Never bet with her in the future. My poor fingers will forever be strained with ink and there is only so much Lava soap can do.

Everything was wrong from the start, I should have walked away, packed up my tools and got the hell out of there. The endless alarms going off in my head weren't enough to keep me going against every shred of decency in my being. That says a lot. I come from a time the entire neighborhood got a piece you when you acted up. Mothers washed out their foulmouthed offspring with soap. I can still taste the different flavors; Ivory, Dove, and Irish Spring. Irish Spring, in my opinion, was the best because of it minty taste.  Though I can't remember any of my friend's mother doing it them... anyway. As soon as, my boss offered to orally copulate me weekly in order to satisfy her odd craving, something changed inside of me. After a slight pause,(I do mean slight) I agreed. Now, I know on the surface it looks as if I am a shallow opportunistic bastard, but I swear somewhere neath the slime was a genuine concern for a fellow human being. What would you have me do? I very well couldn't allow her out there picking up strangers from the bar, supermarket, or the random hookup in the copy room. I felt I was offering my services of sorts in the name dignity and honor...or at least that is what I keep telling myself. The truth is ... I really never a chance to decline the offer. Before I knew it she was kneeling in front of me engrossed in satisfying her hunger. I must say she was quite skilled. A few groans and a spasm later it was over. My body tingled like I had been stung by thousand lightning bugs. Yeah, Yeah ...before you say it … I know lightning bugs don't sting, you have to admit it a certain ring to it. Sometimes in storytelling that makes all the difference.

Before we go any further, I suppose I should introduce myself. I believe its only fair to have a name to associate the scum too. Son of a bitch, sorry motherfucker, and slimy bastard do have a certain ring to them. Hell, they even roll off the tongue if pronounced correctly. However, like most things in this world,  they tend to lose their flavor with over usage. I am Nathan Gower, award-winning novelist, creator of the Cicero Wafe series. (lifting up my glass of single-malt with a hardy howdy) Perhaps, you have heard of them. No applause necessary, if you have. If not, where the hell you been? Chuck the rock, step out the closet and boost your life. I suppose I should take in account my little gems have been out of print for over fifteen years, but I won't. There was talk of a movie once, but that shriveled up like an erection when my girlfriend caught me banging her lesbian roommate with untamed gusto. My girlfriend was livid, I tried to explain it was my civic duty to convert her roommate back. How was I suppose to know the two of them had a thing on the Q.T. … The Hush, Hush. I begged her not to shut me out with promises lewd, freaky, and if stimulated properly, primal acts in the name of experimentation. I thought I had a fighting chance because we were still quite active, but my girlfriend wasn't hearing any of it. Man, I just can't catch a break.

somebody to love

It was such a alluring sound. The bass thumped back and forth in time with the drums cadence. A blond, a brunette, and a redhead sautered towards him. The redhead made him nervous and the blond had no effect at all. Yet, the brunette was the one his mother warned him about was the greatest temptation of all. 

Go wake Mangus 

Make him heed the call 

He was being chased by kitty's and knew he was about to fall. Tell 'em green hookah-smoking muse has told him the tale. 

this happened to Mangus 

when he was small ...

Just as the patrons of the graveyard get up and guide where to go. He had just smoked some writer's shroom and his mind was moving slow 

Go find MMMMaaaannnnggguuuusssss!!!

I'm sure he knows ....

When madness and darkness release what has been bred 

and the blond is speaking gibberish 

and the redhead slaps the blond head 

Remember what the brunette said ... 

The brunette rips open her top exposing herself 

"Feed the Madness"

"Feed the Madness" 

Don't you need somebody to love ?

  

Missed a Spot (WIP)

You look underneath the desk and there is nothing there. So, you pull yourself back up to the desk and resume working. Then you feel it again...You nearly gasp, but you control yourself as you look around the office to see if anyone has noticed. No one has noticed so you continue to work. Then a message pops up in the bottom left hand corner of your screen. You don't recognize it, but you know it needs to be opened. You can't risk it just yet, your boss is right there and the guy from accounting department is giving you the eye, watching your every move. Suddenly, you feel it again, you drop your head behind the screen of your computer and grip the corner of your desk. You feel his fingers inside you working in and out. You feel his tongue flickering on your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, as you release a silent moan. Then just as suddenly as the sensation appeared; its gone. Slowly, the girls come by your desk telling you its time for lunch, but you graciously hold up a  salad and smile. They return your smile and say "stay with it, girl" and leave. Your boss announces he has a meeting and won't back be until late afternoon. Slowly, the office clears out, except for a few remaining die hards. But, they are on the far side of the office and won't see a thing. Now you can open the icon. 

A window opens and there is a single hand waves across the screen. The room spins round and round. When things settle, you are on a desk leaning back on your elbows and your legs are spread wide open. You feel the sensation of the same tongue licking that you felt before. This time the sensation is stronger ..this time the sensation is real. The smell of exhaust and diesel fill your nostrils. You are trying to figure out where you are, but his fingers and tongue distract you. You sit up and push the head away from between your legs. You stare into the eyes of your bearded lover. His beard seems to sparkle a bit from your juices. You smile as you lean forward to taste his lips. He rises up to meet your kiss. At first, it was just lips gently tasting one another. 

The Arrangment

They had a deal, no emotional attachment. They both had been through the wringer and wanted to feel anything, but the pain they had suffered. At first, it was just conversations on the phone. Then it progressed to late night movies and dinners in private, just the two of them helping each other through the pain. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way she began to matter to him more than she should. Though he was sure she didn't share his feelings, his feelings for her continued to grow. He had given her a key with an open invitation to come to his apartment whenever she wanted, Something he never dreamed she would take him up on. The night had slipped into the arms of the morning. The embrace radiated through the window, wiping away the sleepiness of the night. He walked into the kitchen to begin his morning routine and his life changed before his eyes. On his ratty blue leather couch laid hope, longing and confusion all rolled together in the form of a sleeping beauty. She lay there her back facing him. He wanted to wake her, but she was exposed. He covered her thinking they needed to redefine the terms of their arrangement. 

The Bike

My father's bike sat undisturbed in the garage. Its red metal gleaming in the evening light, as if it was lonely; begging to be ridden. He didn't ride it anymore because he hurt his leg in the war. He promised it would be mine when I grew into it. However, that would take forever. I put my bike in its proper place in the garage and stood there staring at dad's bike. I stepped closer and rubbed my hand along the seat then gripped the handlebars. I wasn't tall enough to get my leg over the bar, but there was a milk crate in the corner. I grabbed it, climbed up and stretched my leg over pressing my feet against the middle bar until I could reach the seat. I held on to some nearby boxes and let my legs dangle from the seat. If I arched my foot, just right I could hit the pedal and make it spin.

Buzz

Buzz!!!

I propped my leg against the boxes so I could put my hands on the handle bars. My small arms barely reached, but it was good enough for the garage. I closed my eyes and imagined riding down the alley towards the park. I waved to my friends as I passed by and they followed on their bikes. I pedaled my heart out, speeding away until their screams became whispers; their faces turned to blurs, and faded into the horizon. The park was a short distance from the neighborhood and all the kids rode there. There was a lake on the far end of the park with a picnic table. I could prop the bike up there and get off. I had a half loaf of stale bread with me and to feed the ducks, as the other riders passed by giggling and laughing among themselves. Soon, my friends would catch up and we could feed the ducks together and watch the sun dance just above the water. I wonder what happens when it touches the water. Does it burns out like fire? is this what happens when the night comes?

"Ollie!" called his mother

"Yes, Mom?" I replied

"Supper" she replied

"I'll be right there" 

What was that ?

It took me a minute to find it, but I did. slowly I walk towards her. From my gaze my intentions were clear. She just stood waiting, subconsciously she moistened her lips. She seemed a bit nervous, but she knew what was about to happen, but not how. Our lips finally met. Our tongue danced as they explored each other's mouths. I could feel her knees weaken, as she grabbed ahold of me. I lifted her and carried her to a nearly table. Our kiss turns searing and passionate. I part her legs and rub her sweetness.  Our kisses breaks, our foreheads touch, as I slide her saturated panties to the side.

My fingers explore the folds of her sweetness. She moaned deeply into my mouth. I felt pressure on my shoulders as she directed me to where she needed me. Happily, I fell to my knees and become intoxicated by her aroma. My tongue teasing her swollen lips and clit. My fingers probed in and out charting new depths. Finally, I wrap lips around her clit, sucking it not too hard, just enough. Her juices coated my fingers and her moans filled my ears. My stiffen tongue replaced my fingers. Her hips grind hard against my mouth. I lap feverishly. I suck relentlessly and wade in the cascades of her nectar.

She panted softly, "What was that?"

My Reply, "tung -po - tiger style"

Let the games begin...

The day had been a particularly long and I was looking a quiet evening at home. I stopped and got some take out before heading home. Once, I arrived I noticed she had beat me home. She met me at door right off the kitchen. She was completely nude and had a couple glasses of wine in her hands. I dropped my work material and took a glass from her. She kissed me softly and asked how my day had been. Honestly, that was the last thing on my mind. Perhaps it was the perfectly sculpted legs adorned with 3’inch pumps. Her breasts were on the small size, but those rock hard nipples were always a vision. Being a breast man believe me something like this can make of the difference. That short authoritative hair cut allowed the fullness of her beauty to be revealed. She the glass from my hand and gently placed it on the cupboard beside us. Then she began to slowly to kiss me softly all over my lips and neck. She skillfully removed my member and started preparing him of the next level. I sighed, thinking let the games begin …

Pillow Talk

She was still taunting me, things continued to sir, as I swallowed hard. From my back I launch a half hearted swing.

“Is that all you got?" she taunted. 

I was caught up in watching her sway back and forth. I begun thinking about nice and naughty things. So I wasn't ready for the combination I received. From the expression on her face I could she was quite pleased with herself. Stupidly, I figured she was going to drop it and I could return to work, then...

Rooomp

Another well placed hit to the head. The shit just got real ...