Passion's Invocation, Romance, Tuesday Teasers, Tuesday Teasers

07/29/2014: The Hard Way

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The Hard Way

Jazmine stared out the window reviewing her actions of late. I’m new to being His slave all the time, she thought, He should have accounted for that, but even she couldn’t let herself off that easily.

Sir Reginald had been patient with her, at first. Their first twenty-four hours had taxed her more than she expected. Still, Jaz was disheartened that he’d been so courteous their first night. He turned down the bed, snuffed out the candles and laid her gently on the bed. She lay in expectant anticipation imagining his large, rough hands seeking all the places that pleasured her beyond measure… until she heard him snoring.

She suffered through the next day with nerves causing her to lock her jaw. Sir Reginald was kind that she had slightly over-cooked the meal, which she served as graciously as she could, but he noticed her stilted gait and clipped responses through clenched teeth. He tried to explain that night, but she was strained beyond recovery,

“I wasn’t neglecting you, Jaz. I meant to give you much-needed rest,” He said without guilt.

“Rest,” she questioned with a screech, “You! You! You!”

Before she could find an appropriate expletive, He scooped her up and banished her to an empty room.

Even now she cringed, picturing herself lifting the milk pitcher and hurling it against the wall behind him. Milk splashed him, soaked the walls and shattered glass scattered, sticking to him and littering the floor. She knew this would take a grand apology.

“Total subservience. Absolute obedience,” she whispered to herself, moving to the door he had turned the lock on, “He must forgive me.”

She knelt leaning face-down prepared to accept her fate, knowing she deserved whatever he would do for punishment, I learn the hard way, but I do learn.

 

By Wildfire8470

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Passion's Invocation

Soft Summer Rain

Soft Summer Rain

Soft Summer Rain

There is a soft rain falling tonight and all I can think about is what I would love to do to you, with you, if you were here with me.

 

I would start the evening by bringing you several Wild Turkey shots, not enough to get you drunk, just blissfully relaxed. Then I would pull you up, full length against me, to kiss your lips softly until your hands were in my hair showing me how you want it.

 

I would take both your hands in mine and pull you out onto the steps and into the rain. Gently, I would push you down to kneel before you. I would massage and kiss the back of your neck sensuously, taking the time to inhale you with all of my senses.

 

Slowly, I would kiss your neck and shoulders, from back to front, listening to your breathing so I would know everywhere and every way that you like to be kissed.

 

Once I had taken in the feel and scent of you, I would pull the shirt from your hard chest, suckle your tiny nipples, and kiss you down the length of your abdomen. Lightly, I would run my nails up and down your crotch and zipper until I must strip them from you. I would tear the buttons to your jeans open with my teeth.

 

I would move to brush your lips with mine and then briefly pull you up to strip your boxers off. Then I would move away slightly, to admire your muscled physique in the moonlight, wanting to memorize every inch of you. I have always believed that a woman should know her man intimately, with her whole being, sparing not one tiny detail about him.

 

After drinking you in with my eyes for a long moment, I would drop to my knees to kiss and nip the insides of your firm your thighs; starting on one side and working my way up, meaning to mark you, but just a little bit. I would take my time, lightly bruising the tender flesh there, which would elicit soft, expectant groans from you.

 

Then I would pause, just a fraction of an inch from the apex of your desire to breathe heavily against your hard, thick cock, and let you hope for more. I would smile devilishly in the darkness, knowing that I have only just begun; that I intend to torture you for as long we both can stand it.

 

You would pull my long hair down across your strong thighs to wrap it around your hardness, in that gentle, provocative way you have about you, titillating your cock and balls as I take you between my lips and nothing more, just holding you there with my lips wrapped tightly around you.

 

As I would breathe hotly against your pulsing need, I know you would be torn between the need to fuck my mouth hard, and the desire to obey my unspoken command. Finally, you would opt to be still and wait for me to make the next move. Making love is, at times, a power struggle between us that we both delight in. I would make no sudden movements, just slow, deliberate actions that would lead you to the impossible heights of your longing need and darkest desires.

 

I would feel, squeeze, and knead your full, firm balls with my fingers and palms, massaging all of your most sensitive places, until I am compelled to taste you. I’d run the tip of my hot, moist tongue up and down the entire length of you, making you wait, forcing you to slow to my pace.

 

Then I’d claim the long, thick girth of you with my whole mouth, pushing you down my clutching throat as deeply as far as I can take you, and always pulling back to the very tip of your throbbing cock; so ready, so strong against my tongue and filling my mouth. However, I would be in no hurry this night.

 

I would continue my pace for hours, for tonight, forever, sucking you more deeply into me, in an agonizingly slow rhythm, tightly forcing my ravenous lips down over your steel-hard shaft to pull back even more slowly, over and again, until you could barely stand to wait. I would pleasure you just that way, repeatedly, until you would be moaning my name, with your guttural groans filling the night sky and still I would show you no mercy.

 

I would be pushing and pulling my lips up and down the steel-hard strength of you, always to pull back with unbearable suction, and then force my tight lips down over you, all the way down, until you are balls deep in my mouth. I would set a pace that would drive you mad, fill you with lust, and make you beg for release.

 

Just when you were sure that you could stand no more, I would release you from the sweet prison of my mouth to stroke you, softly at first, with my hands, fingers, and palms. Lightly, I would trail my fingertips up and down the thick, hard length of you, even as a fiery, torturous, ache begins between my own thighs.

 

Finally, I would trap you with my lips, sucking both of your exquisitely tight balls into my hungry mouth, suckling them with my tongue wrapped around you. I would be lost in the rapture that we create and share, together, while you groan, squirm, and buck.

 

We would be so lost in each other, in the beauty of us that is our all-consuming love, lust, and passion, so deeply that we would not care who might spy us from the nearby street and homes. I would only care that I mean to have my way with you for the entire night.

 

I would envelope you wholly, to please and tease, pleasure and titillate, torture and tantalize you, starting and stopping over and again, to take you to the ultimate edge of orgasm and force you wait. My only desire this night, would be to please you more profoundly than ever before, and to make you cum harder and longer than you ever knew you could.

 

When you do hear voices close by, you would gently try to squirm away, to voice your objections still trying to make yourself heard, but your halfhearted complaints would be ignored. I would cover your mouth with my own, kissing you deeply, intensely and passionately, to make you forget yourself.

 

Soon, the voices would fade as others take shelter from the rain, so I would return my lips to your delicious, straining  erection that seems made for me. I would begin sucking you up and down the sides of your luscious cock, kissing and laving your balls in frenzied white-hot need. Again, I would mouth fuck you fiercely, knowing that I would be frenzied with want of you.

 

Eventually, both of us would be gripped by the wild abandon of our animistic desires and I would show you untamed  abandon and all of the emotions I feel, but cannot voice.

 

Finally, I would lavish suckling kisses there as you close your eyes and growl softly into the night sky. The scents and sounds of your exquisite pleasure would urge me on, so I would lower myself to kiss you between your legs, and down over your thighs while I stroke your hardening cock. I would alternate between hard and fast to soft, sensual slowness, doing anything to keep you off balance so that you could not guess my next move.

 

I would leave small hickeys on your thighs and capture your balls in my mouth to suck them hard as I stroked your throbbing member until I feel your pre-cum begin. Then I would move to lick, taste and kiss the head of your hard, aching desire, sucking you into my mouth deeper and listening to your breathing. I love that your moans and growls always tell me what I need to know.

 

When your breathing becomes fast and shallow, I would tip my head back and swallow your iron need all the way down my throat, moving my head to push and pull you into and out of my throat as it clutches around you.

 

You would hold my head in your hands and slam your balls against my lips while I stroke you with my tongue and wrap it around your turgid length, forcing you to push and pull your hardness through my moist, velvet tongue.

 

As I could feel how close you are getting, I would suck you even harder until you finally explode, with your steel-hard length deep inside of me. Your throbbing girth against the walls of my throat would shove me over the precipice and my soaking wet pussy would contract violently around your desperate need.

 

Then I would suckle you softly, ever so lightly, until you were entirely satiated and completely spent. I would not move to release you from my warm, moist mouth until you were completely and utterly satisfied.

 

At last, I would pull you up to crush you to me and kiss you lovingly, letting the rain soak both of us, and I know I would already be thinking of how much fun we would have drying each other off.

 

 

By Wildfire8470
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© January 4, 2017 at 6:33 AM – All Rights Reserved


 

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Tags:  DesireErotic RomanceExhibitionFellatioFemDomHomeLetter to her loveLong-Distance LoveLove And StuffLove LetterSex In the rain

Passion's Invocation

Half A World Away

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Half A World Away

 

Ava knew that he was surrounded by photos he had enlarged to grace the elegant walls of his home. He had been to everyplace she could see in the paintings and pictures behind him. She also knew there were scads of women who would kill to be his girlfriend, his lover, or even just the recipient of his attention for a short while. Most of all, Ava knew she was one of the many… but, perhaps, a special one to Master Kane.

 

They used Skype almost every night. Though he was half a world away, she wanted to know everything about the personal world he lived in, and wished to re-experience Piccadilly and its shops with him. Once, he had lifted the camera to show her the view from his window. The neon signs and lights had her mesmerized and longing to be there.

 

They met at Shaftesbury Monument Memorial Fountain. She was unaware that she was the subject of several photos he took that day, and had no clue about what he longed to do to her then and there. He had mailed her the photos just today; their one year anniversary of meeting.

 

They met when Ava was in Westminster on vacation. While she had always known that her’s was a submissive nature, she knew nothing of the BDSM world. Over the past year, Master Kane had shown, and taken Ava to, places she had never dreamed existed, but the place she liked best was in his arms. Still, she admitted to herself that subspace had been one worth revisiting over and over as well.

 

Though he had introduced himself as Dillon Kane, he was Master since their first night together. He had made it clear that theirs would be a Dominant/submissive relationship. She definitely hadn’t expected to be wearing his collar, but he had collared her in their first week together. Ava was fascinated by all of it, her surroundings, the sounds and smells, every emotion he awakened in her, until she had made the mistake of calling him Dillon.

 

He had arched one brow, ordered her over his knee, and hiked up her skirt without ceremony. Then he grabbed her red, plastic hairbrush and spanked her until her bottom nearly matched the hairbrush. Even as tears fell, Ava was filled with a heat that rushed from her cheeks to her center, making her beg for orgasm.

 

Master Kane had toyed with her then, dragging the flat side of the brush over her burning ass cheeks, making her wait and wonder while he asked,
“What do you call me, my sweet sub?”

 

“Master,” she whimpered, “Master Kane!”

 

Slowly he caressed the inside of her thighs until his fingers found her wetness. He drove his fingers into her with one hand, while the other smacked her red cheeks hard with the brush. Then he wound an arm around her waist to bring her down from tiptoes as he drove into her tightness more deeply. Finally, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. They made passionate, incredible love all night long.

 

Ava sighed, picturing the disappointment she had seen in his eyes that night. She set up her camera and adjusted the Skype settings, knowing that she would give anything to even just have that single night back again.

 

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2013-03-15 04:25:27 – All Rights Reserved

Wildfire8470 Digimarced

Abuse, Dangerous Women, Violence

Done!

2-7-2013 Done!

Kimberly lay across the edge of the tub, half-drowned and too exhausted with his abuse to care anymore. She lay as though dead, amazed she was able to think at all. He had nearly killed her this time.

“One hour late from girls’ night out is not call for this,” she raged with no ability to move. She wondered how or why she had survived for this long as she stared into the mirror across the room, her makeup running down her ashen face, almost wishing he had succeeded tonight.

Everything inside her was screaming,

“I’m done with this fucking shit!” Done! DONE,” but she had no energy to utter a sound.

She couldn’t even summon the strength to strip from her sodden dress and dry herself, but the voice in her head wouldn’t stop. Not this time…

DONE! FINISHED! OVER! THE END! DONE!

On nights like this, she used to wonder why she had married the bastard. Now, she only contemplated ending it.

She closed her eyes and really thought hard this time. She hit extremes without fortitude to put plans into action, so she lay there drenched, gasping for air… and plotting.

Finally, a quiet strength encompassed her as an actual plan took shape.

Kimberly knew she couldn’t divorce the asshole. She had inherited millions when she lost her parents,

…and I’m not going to lose it to him, she fumed angrily, I’d end up supporting the lazy bastard too!

Thoughts of losing house and home to him were nearly unbearable but the money she inherited from her parents was non-negotiable.

No! That is NOT going to happen, she railed at him mentally while realizing she would likely get stuck with paying alimony too.

Then her weakness began to subside. Kimberly knew now that she had options.

Okay, no attractive options, she surmised while rummaging through her thoughts, examining each of them one-by-one, but do-able, she stated to herself determinedly.

She pushed herself upright and every bone in her body ached. Her lungs hurt from fighting him for tiny amounts of oxygen. Kimberly wondered how many hours she had struggled with him tonight. With arms weak and limp at her sides, she succumbed once more,

Why didn’t you just do it this time, you fucktard? You could have spared both of us this, she yelled without sound at the blue light of the television flickering through the doorway, knowing he was passed-out drunk in front of it.

Kimberly slipped from her precarious perch on the edge of the bath tub to the cold, tile floor.

What the hell am I thinking, she questioned herself as she sat in a heap of wet clothing with limbs askew, Am I really thinking about… but she couldn’t finish that thought.

She crawled to the cupboard beneath the sink, opened the small door and reached inside, fumbling in the unlit interior until she grasped the items she sought.

With trembling hands she extracted his straight razor and his old, rolled-up belt. A small smile claimed her lips and she found renewed vigor. Kimberly placed the items in the sink and pulled herself up by the surrounding vanity.

Suddenly she realized that she was still in her stiletto heels. Kicking them off, she thought of how far away the night of fun and gayety with her friends seemed to be.

That was maybe, eight or twelve hours ago, she thought, staring at her haggard appearance in the mirror more closely, Seems like it’s been years.

At twenty eight years old, Kimberly looked forty years older than that and her rage was renewed.

“I – will – not – let – him – do – this – to – me,” she whispered haltingly at her reflection.

Grabbing up the razor and belt, she tucked them into her elbow holding them close to her side, and raced quietly past the bedroom where he sat, exactly as she knew he would. He was sprawled, with his head dangling to the side of the easy chair, with beer cans and a whiskey bottle strewn about the floor around it.

She stared at him for a second thinking, So unlike you. You’re gonna make this easy for me. Aren’t ya, dickwad?

Knowing she would lose her nerve in a moment of pause, Kimberly raced out to the garage and collected a large coil of rope and cut off a length of duct tape. She stuck the tape to her upper arm and got into the truck she had so carefully parked only hours before. She backed it into the driveway making sure to leave the keys in the ignition.

In a moment, she was standing in the soft glow of the porch light with her heart racing. She leaned down to grip her knees focused on slowing her breathing. When she realized that her dress was still damp, she was enraged anew.

In a shot, she was back at the bedroom padding in quietly, even knowing that dynamite wouldn’t wake the drunken shit. She laid the utensils on the ground, nearly tripping over an unseen bottle of half-empty Tequila, and set about the task at hand. Quickly, she wrapped the rope around him, effectively binding him to the La-Z-Boy recliner and bound his legs with the leather belt. She almost snickered, thinking,

Boy, you really missed your calling, you lazy fuck! You should have made commercials for La-Z-Boy!

She stifled a hateful smile and gingerly peeled the duct tape from her arm, then pressed it to his mouth and firmly anchored it behind his head.

He stirred from his alcohol-laden sleep to find himself immobilized. He struggled and tried to yell, as he had when he was trying to drown her. Kimberly bent down resolutely and picked up the straight razor. With a final, wounded-animal cry, using every ounce of pressure her tired arms would exert, she dragged the razor across his throat unleashing all her years of pent-up rage, screaming,

“Dooonnneee!”

By Wildfire8470

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Stories That Need A Home

Slow Burn

Slow Burn

 

Slow Burn

 
 
It is too hard to think of when my slow burn began, too hard to focus on fact while I lay next to you letting thoughts of you and me, secret thoughts of us, drift into and out of my consciousness.
 
 
Wrapped into your embrace, I am musing silently beneath the star filled sky. It is that amazing time in the early morning, far before the garish sun is near to claiming the night; where I can close my eyes and inhale you… breathe you in with all of my senses. It is that perfect hour where I can let myself walk the too-thin line between anxious thought and deep, dark emotion.
 
 
I lay there, lazily dreaming, lost somewhere between salacious desire and intense, raw-emotion, the place I never dare to approach in my waking world. But the breeze brushes over me gently and your fingers run slowly up and down my back, as I realized that you are lost in your own world of half-asleep thought.
 
 
I watch you, here in the darkness, conflicting features crossing your face, while you think you’re most personal thoughts, believing that you are safe in the night, unaware that I am taking in everything. Every crease around your beautiful eyes, soft smiles that come and go, the occasional frown that saddens your expression, and I realize that I have the desire to take all of your worries from you, but wonder if I have the ability.
 
 
I lay back on the blanket you brought for us and stretch languorously. Finding myself too close to my own fearful thoughts, a shiver runs down my spine, so I hold you a little more tightly to me, snuggle into you more closely, and close my eyes as I finally close the door on lingering fears; fears that you are fast-eclipsing here, in my heart.
 
 
It is the one place I dare not examine too closely, but then I remember that you have always been twenty-five kinds of patient with me. I smile to myself as I gingerly touch my lips to your cheek, dreamily picturing the day you asked me out, remembering how I stammered and stumbled nervously in all of my uncertainty;  knowing how long I have been wanting you but paralyzed in the breadth and depth of my residual pain.
 
 
I was overwhelmed by your confidence and larger than life personality then, and I picture your rugged handsomeness on that day.
 
 
“Have coffee with me,” you said as you approached me.
 
 
I scanned the spaces beside and behind me, wondering if you were actually addressing me. I stood rooted to one spot, rummaging through any number of replies that I might have choked out, but my still-wounded heart leapt into my throat so I just stood there, mute in your gaze.
 
 
“Never mind,” you stated firmly, “Make it adult beverages, girl. Seems like you could use it.”
 
 
I stammered something unintelligible which thankfully, you did not hear.
 
 
“Pick you up at eight,” you said, over your shoulder as you turned to walk away, but then quickly turned to flash a grin at me that crinkled your eyes, and I was hooked. I was completely and utterly taken, and then I knew… this is where my slow burn began.
 
 
Unaware that you have been watching me this night, I am completely unguarded in re-experiencing you, and this is where your lips meet mine, startling me out of that not-so-long-ago moment. I drag my errant thoughts back to the present, into the here and now of you, into the profoundly sexual kiss that is steadily heating up.
 
 
Slowly, you let me come to you, and I returned your passion two-fold as I let you part my lips. Your hand lightly cups the soft, warm globes beneath you as you graze my unexposed nipple with just one finger. You stroke me tentatively through the fabric of my blouse, and deepen the kiss gently, yet firmly demanding of me, not making any sudden moves but deliberately exploring me with maddening slowness.
 
 
You entwined your tongue with mine and press deeper, forcing my lips and mouth open to you. Knowing how much I want you, you let me know that you will determine how this goes.
 
 
You slow my actions with a gentle hand to my shoulder and will not give in to my urgency. Ever so slowly, you knead my taut breasts squeezing my nipples slightly as you undo my buttons, all without ever breaking our kiss.
 
 
Your hands are gently seeking, feeling, softly rubbing and stroking until you suddenly stand and pull me to my feet. With my body pressed full-length against you, locked in your muscular embrace, you loosen your grip slightly to remove the last of my clothing and yours.
 
 
Not letting go for a second, you stroke my long hair and move your hand to caress my cheek. You press your steel-hard need between my legs. Your cock is my scabbard, springing to life from its dark patch of hair.
 
 
I am aching for you to fill me, aching for you to make this slow burn blaze into unrestrained passion. But you lift me gently into your arms to gingerly lay me down upon the blanket and, in so-doing, lay waste to my inhibitions; the content of my wounded soul.
 
 
As you lay atop me with your firm, broad chest pinning me down, you crush me to you with your devilish eyes locked on mine, almost daring me to utter a word of protest, but I cannot.
 
 
Instead, I wrap my legs around you, trying to pull you closer still, finally let me melt into you. I give into the mêlée of riotous emotion that only you can make me feel. Your every touch is searing white-hot flames upon my skin, branding me your own.
 
 
l let you trail fire down the length of me, as you drag your fingertips down my stomach, past my abdomen to find the nexus of me and I cry out into the night at just the tips of your fingers touching me there.
 
 
Sizzling, electric-heat shocks me, leaping from synapse to synapse, culminating in the core of my womanhood while this slow burn threatens to consume me; to incinerate my very soul and I am suddenly assailed with terror.
 
 
I am unprepared to feel this deeply and intensely, ill-equipped to fall face-first and headlong into the all-consuming fire that constantly torments my waking and dreaming hours. I am writhing, squirming and pushing; fighting you, fighting me, and then begin begging you,
 
 
“Stop! Wait! Stop! Please! Please stop!”
 
 
But you do not let me go, will not let me run. Knowing that you are plenty strong enough to hold me down, you just hold me gently in your firm grip. Again, you pull me to you hard, letting me panic, writhe, and fight to push you away until my terror gives way to tears.
 
 
I am weeping in silence, tears streaking down my face, while you hold me tighter than you ever have, murmuring loving words into my ear, letting me retreat and die, to be reborn into your arms; the girl all but gone and a woman in her place.
 
 
Then finally, we both move, kissing frantically, wrapping ourselves around each other, rolling over and over again, both of us finding “our rhythm.” Then you push up from the ground to kneel between my thighs while lightly fondling my clitoris. You stroke me softly there with the full, firm length of you deep inside of me. You continue your sweet, sensuous torment until my breathing comes fast and ragged.
 
 
You begin a quicker rhythm, slamming into me hard and fast, as you stroke my most intimate secrets. I feel the slow burn become tumultuous as both of us push harder and faster. My hips meet yours, matching you, thrust for frenzied thrust, our crescendo building hotter, wilder, your fingers stroking my sensitized womanhood while you fill me with your steel-hard length, your unrelenting girth impaling me and letting my orgasm build.
 
 
Soft whimpers and longing moans escape me as I am twisting, thrusting, and aching to explode with you just as your deep, guttural growl fills the air, matching my soft scream that splits the stillness of this night. Finally, I let myself fall into our mutual fulmination, into flames that are borne of you and me. Our simultaneous orgasm rocks us through and through.
 
 
Then, at last, I am lost in you; in feeling your pulsing member sheathed within my hot wetness while I contract almost violently around you. I let our torrential lust and love consume me as you fall into my arms. I so love the culmination and completion that is you… and me… that is us… wholly and only us… and just the thought sets me back on a slow burn.
 
 
 
  

By Wildfire8470

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©October 16, 2016 – 05:26 PM – All Rights Reserved

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