Erotic Romance, Fiction, Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance, Thursday Thrills

Hungry

Hungry

 

 

I am agitated, pacing the floor with my skin prickling. I’m thinking of you and I am hungry for you, and constantly remembering; the night I lay in your bed, curled into your back to spoon you, allowing my hands free access to roam.

 

The memories come to me, though I rarely ask for them; the day I tried to swallow your shaft, gripping your sweet, spankable ass cheeks, the perfection of trailing my lips up your hard thighs and caressing you with my tongue, nuzzling and breathing you in. The memories comfort and assault making me hate when we’re apart even more than is usual.

 


My thoughts are too inflamed and tumultuous. I cannot handle this heated torment another second, so I get up to make coffee, mumbling, “Need caffeine by the truckload,” and then pace the kitchen floor, waiting for it to brew.

 

I am walking for lack of any other release. My fingers long to touch and wrap around your long, thick manhood, trying to memorize you indelibly, from my fingertips to my wanting, greedy palms. I can still feel the handfuls that made me spread my fingers just to cup your full, firm balls.




 

Finally I shake my head clear and check the coffee pot. Why is everything taking too long? Everything in my life is hurry up and wait!

 

My home is too small to contain my anxious person and defiant thoughts. The last cock shot was the last straw. I need you right here right now! I bolt angrily from the house to go walk it off.

 

Heading out onto the beach, the moon is punctuated by high clouds drifting across the night sky. I break into a sprint and cover a quarter mile before I am winded. 


Stopping to catch my breath, I bend spontaneously and my hands land on my knees. The feel of your steely shaft returns to me. Your iron cock is burning hot, hard, and ready, as though forged in fire. 


“Stop it! Don’t think,” I scream my impotent aggravation into the salt-sea air, “Walk it off! Go!”

 

I begin again as midnight waves pound the shore with an oddly satisfying Rush, whoosh, and smack.

 For a moment, I am mesmerized, and I pause to watch the sea claim the sand dragging it back to the ocean. Claiming its own love no doubt.

 

Again I shake the thoughts from my mind and focus on running. 


Another mile passes before I drop to the sand exhausted. For a long moment, I realize I have been trying to outrun my own thoughts, but your words return to me as though you are whispering them to me right now. “You’re mine.” Rush, whoosh, smack.



 

I close my eyes letting your voice blend with the waves and the sounds I’ve grown to love. Your mine. Rush, whoosh, smack, and I spread my fingers to feel the forceful ocean reclaiming its own. 


Water and sand trickle through my fingers, lulling me into sleep with its perfect cadence. Rush, whoosh and smack. You’re mine. You’re mine. Rush, whoosh, smack. Mine. Only mine.

 

The call of a night bird wakes me and you are instantly in mind. I open my eyes to take stock of my surroundings.

 

The moon is behind thick clouds now, the beach is still deserted, and daylight is nowhere near. Rush, whoosh and smack. I need you so badly it hurts and I don’t relish the walk back feeling like this.

 


Instead, I turn to lay on my back and ease my zipper down, listening hard for anything nearby. Then I push my jeans off and bend at the knees, enjoying the feel of a summer breeze caressing my nether regions. Rush, whoosh and smack.

 

Conjuring your naked body in mind, I close my eyes and slide my fingertips down my abdomen in between my legs. You’re mine. Rush, whoosh, smack.


 Your voice commands me; a distant whisper that is ever present in me. Just hearing you sends my thighs up in flames as I stroke my hot needy clitoris. Rush, whoosh and smack.

 

With you, I am brazen under cover of darkness. I long to feel your weight on top of me and the picture of us is instant, too easily returning to me as I try to ease my own wanton desires. Rush, whoosh, smack.



 

The first touch is an electric spark and I imagine your strong, masterful hands stroking me with one finger and plunging the other into my aching wetness.


 I’m on fire for you and I need your completion. I am twisting and writhing as you tear off your swim trunks and drive your sword straight into my molten center. Rush, whoosh, smack.



 

A cry escapes me, blending into the night sounds. Rush, whoosh, smack.

 You’re mine now. You were made to be mine, and you slam your iron need into me harder, making me whimper but not ending this sweet torture. Rush, whoosh, smack.




 

“Say it and I’ll give you release,” you taunt, pulling your hard length back so I am barely clinging to the tip of your cock. Rush, whoosh, smack.



 

For a moment, I am defiant but I imagine your stare. You hold my gaze with your own, waiting for my surrender. Rush, whoosh, smack.

 

In another moment, I collapse in fiery, urgent need as you drive your iron cock into me harder than you ever have, and in the moment before you steal my breath, I whisper, I’m yours. Brand me your own.”

 


Finally, you slam into me harder and faster until orgasm claims us, sending both of us tumbling into ecstasy, and my cunt is throbbing hard around your staff, jumping and throbbing in my wet sheath and spilling your seed into me. Rush, whoosh, smack.



 

When I am satiated and no longer trembling I open my eyes again, knowing that I am safe in the night, restored in loving you and in sharing ultimate release, exchanging energy that lends me strength.

 

Finally, I am strong enough to wash and frolic in the waves, to face the long walk back, and to endure the time and space between us, ever hungry.

 


Rush, whoosh, smack.

 

 

By Wildfire8470 

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©May 6, 2018 at 12:32 PM – All Rights Reserved
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected

 

Tags:  #18+ #adult #adultcontent #love #lust #long-distance #longing #relationship #erotic #romance #Thursday Thrills #shortstory #flashfiction #fiction #masturbation #exhibition

 

Dangerous Women, Flash Fiction, Passion's Invocation

Hooked

Jenner

 

Jenner checked her reflection and ran to wait behind the curtain. Looking down at the triangles of cloth that barely covered her secrets, she tried to slow her breathing.

 

No one would recognize me in this wig and makeup, she consoled herself and summoned all her courage.

Suddenly the music stopped and loud speakers blasted her cue into the drunken crowd,

 

“Announcing a little lady who’s going to make you feel Jennerrrific!

 

She bolted onto the stage, surprising her new coworkers, and immediately locked eyes with the first man she saw. He was a troll but he would do.

 

The girls said it would work, she told herself.

 

With a forced smile, Jenner swayed and gyrated to a tune she barely knew. She lowered her eyelids and let herself feel it; the pounding and pulsating sensuality began to sink in. It felt as if someone else had taken her over.

 

She pulled a knot from her hair letting the wavy length fall down her slender back. The men howled, hooted and catcalled. She knew she had them hooked and relaxed into music that enveloped her nervousness. It was heady and powerful tonic and her fears that fell away.

 

Slowly she peeled off the triangles to bare her voluptuous breasts, worked her dance movements toward the man and dipped low before him. Jenner felt primal and surprisingly brazen.

 

With full bosoms dangling before him, she gripped his lapels, pulled him from his stool and kissed him hotly, then shoved him back down, and finished the song with one leg wrapped strategically around the pole center stage.

 

Bills flew onto the stage from everywhere. She was a success. Jenner collected the bills and turned to exit the stage. Smiling genuinely, she thought, I expected to hook them and now I’m hooked!

 
 
 

By Wildfire8470
Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© May 23, 2015 – 06:08 AM – All Rights Reserved
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected Q0VL-X2PL-WXXK-XVI6

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday Thrills

The Night Before

The Night Before 9/11

World Trade Center - Evening2

Jane Marie stood in the window of her new home; their new home. It was finally coming together. She was giddy, excited, and exhausted but happy. She grinned into the setting sun, hugging herself tightly thinking “Happy! Finally, happy and content!”

 

She fixed her gaze on the World Trade Center, wondering about all the people inside, wondering if they were happy; if anyone inside felt as content as she. While lost in thought, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder as a baritone voice said, “Hello, wife.”

 

She turned to smile into Marcus’ eyes. “Say it again,” she said, “I still hardly believe it.”

 

“Believe it,” Marcus responded, “You’re my wife, now and forever. “

 

He joined her in the window, pulling her into his embrace. He cast his eyes on the tallest building saying, “I’ll be there tomorrow. It’s a better position that will secure our future together. “

 

Jane Marie argued, “You don’t need a better position. What if it’s too much for you? I’m being promoted at the end of September. You don’t have to do this for me.”

“Nothing is too much for us,” he said happily, “You work insane hours. I want you to be able to walk away with no need to look back.”

 

Jane Marie thought about her job as a nurse, about her patients and how they looked forward to seeing her. She did too. She tried to compare it to her husband’s happiness, but nothing compared. His happiness was all she wanted.

 

She turned back to the buildings asking, “Which one?”

 

“The tallest,” he said with a grin, “The building with the point on top, just about where the cluster of lights are there,” he pointed toward the top of the World Trade Center.

 

“Magical,” she stated, “The very best one. Majestic, regal, magical… like us, miraculous” she said dreamily.

 

Marcus adored the fantasies his wife could weave from nothing. Grinning wickedly, he stated as he lifted her into his arms, “I’m going to ravage you magically, majestically, and regally! Come woman,”

Then, in an entirely affectionate tone, he said, “Come, my wife. Let us love like there is no tomorrow.”

 

Jane Marie laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling closer to him, sighing “Yes.”

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By Wildfire8470

Passion's Invocation, Thursday Thrills

Broken Jade

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Broken Jade

Broken JadeJade took her first steps on the catwalk feeling like something was amiss. She just wasn’t able to put her finger on it. She was no stranger to the catwalk or the dog-eat-dog world of modeling, but tonight would be unlike any other. 


She joined the rest of the girls in dress change, as usual. In the few moments they had to prepare, everyone was reaching, grabbing, and rifling through clothes, jewelry, furs, and feathers. The rush and tension had dulled her senses to anything outside of being ready in time.

As she stepped behind the curtain to ready herself for her last walk of the night, she noticed a strange movement in the shadowed corner. 

“Probably just one of the girls taking speed or shooting up,” she thought, trying to shake off a feeling of dread. 

Suddenly, Miss Kent, head of the Ford modeling agency, changed the lineup and Jade was at the back of the line. She would be the one to close the show. Jade hated waiting. It made her nervous.

She fell in love with Melea three years ago, two of which they had lived under the same roof. She noticed movement in the corner shadows again and gauged her time. 

“I’m on in about three minutes,” she thought, as she stepped from line to investigate. 

She pulled back the curtain to let the backstage light in, and found Melea between the thighs of a young, new model. There was no time for this now. Jade ran back to the line with Melea calling after her, but Miss Kent hurriedly pushed her onto the catwalk. 

She stepped from the heavy curtain feeling dazed, hurt, dizzy, and enraged. Cameras flashed everywhere as she tried to slap on a smile and wing it, until she was taking her last steps.

She urged herself through it thinking, “Almost there. Almost home. You can make it.” 

Just as she was ready to dissolve into tears, a fashion photographer appeared just inside the curtain. He had caught her raw emotions, rage, and discomposure, in a single shot that could end her career. She could already imagine tomorrow’s headlines.

Jade pushed by the obnoxious photographer and ran for the exit, nearly knocking Miss Kent off her feet in the process. For just a moment, she thought of how many times she had slapped on a smile, and how Miss Kent had direct say about her life, work, eating habits, almost everything. She realized just how public her triumphs had been, but hadn’t expected her failures to be as well.

She ran down the stairs until the stern voice of Miss Kent stopped her.

“Jade! Jade! Unprofessional doesn’t begin to cover it,” she began her angry tirade.

Feeling utterly betrayed, and profoundly broken, pain and anger poured from her lips. In a fit of overwhelming emotions, she screamed, 

“Yea! Yea!  I’ll let you know where to send my last fucking check!”

The last thing she heard was Miss Kent yelling, “You don’t mean that, Jade! You get back here now!”

But this time, she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. With the picture of Melea etched into mind, she raced for the car and pulled onto a highway that may never end. Leaving behind her love and her life, she gunned the engine, heading for anywhere but here.

By Wildfire8470
© copyright 2013-05-21 09:11:17 – All Rights Reserved
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