I lay on the bed in the darkness, and I hear your footsteps in the hall. I tremble in anticipation, my skin flushed with the thought of your hands on my curves. I hear you come into the bedroom, and smile as you come to the bed, pulling back the blanket and sheet to find me naked and waiting for you. I hear your indrawn breath, and I hold mine, waiting to see if you will touch me, tempted by what I offer. After what seems like hours, I feel the bed sag beneath your weight and you slip in beside me, then feel the brush of your hand on my shoulder, pushing the weight of my hair of my neck.
Your breath beats against my neck like a butterfly’s wing, a nanosecond before I feel your lips brush my skin. I sigh, and turn to press my body to yours. My legs tangle with yours, and I press kisses over your face, feeling the slight rasp of your not-quite-smooth cheeks and chin against the sensitive skin of my lips. Moments later, your mouth finds mine, and then I am falling into a kiss full of heat and passion. Our tongues twine and tease, tasting and exploring, gently at first, then with greater hunger.
My breasts press tightly to your chest, your arms around me, and my fingers in your hair. I pull back from the kiss and I sigh, and my breath feathers across your face like a caress. Your fingers move over my back, sliding up my arm and over to cup my breast. You trace the tattoo there gently, fingers walking the labyrinth of the celtic knotwork, and my nipple hardens in response, and I gasp. The sound draws your attention back to my mouth, and you kiss me again, pulling at my lower lip gently with your teeth, making me whimper some small, inarticulate sound of desire. The kiss grows deeper, more passionate and hungry with every second, until we break apart, panting, gasping for air.
I rock my hips forward, and feel you pressing against me, hard and ready. I turn in the bed, so that my face is even with your cock, and my hot, wet pussy is inches from your lips. Just as I wrap my lips around your head and begin to swirl my tongue over it, I feel your tongue nudging me open, grazing my clit, and I shudder from the sensation of it. You pull me tighter to you, your hands kneading my ass as you devour my core, and I respond by pulling you deep into my throat and sucking hard, massaging your shaft with my tongue, and then sliding up and down on you in an ever-increasing rhythm. You plunge your tongue inside of me as if it were your cock, then pull back to flutter it over my pulsing clit. Finally, unable to wait any longer, I pull away from you, and turn over onto my hands and knees on the bed. You kneel behind me, taking my hips in your hands, and slide into me in one smooth, powerful stroke, then pull back out again, teasing me with just your head right at my opening. I rock back against you, silently asking for more, and of course, you give me what I need. Long, smooth, slow strokes in an out build the heat until I swear the sheets will singe, and I come around you, my pussy spasming around your hard cock. This drives you wild, and you pound into me like an animal, fast and hard and uncontrolled, making me come again and again before finally the sensation of me milking your cock sends you flying over the edge, shooting into me with hard jerks and satisfied moans.
Afterward, we collapse onto the bed, tangled in each other’s arms, our breathing still fast and wild, our eyes heavy with satiation and our limbs numb in post-coital ecstasy. After a while, our breathing slows, and we curl into each other, your body pressed to the curve of my back, and your mouth nestled against my shoulder. Just like that, we are drifting into sleep, warm, and safe, and satisfied.



The three of us are lying on my bed, laughing, a little drunk. It’s his birthday, and the day has been great. We had a picnic lunch, dinner together, then out to the bar for a few drinks, three young friends just hanging out and having fun. He and she are so cute together, her laughing up at him and him smiling down at her. He kisses her, and she kisses him back, then she’s on top of him, straddling him on my bed. He swats her ass playfully and she giggles. I love watching them together, watching their relationship bloom like some beautiful, exotic flower, full of perfume and promise and beauty. She’s a beautiful girl, but when he makes her laugh, she’s electrifying. We’re laughing and talking, and they’re cuddling and kissing, and I’m so happy I can feel it like heat in my chest- I’ve laughed and smiled so much today that my cheeks are sore. We’ve just walked back to my apartment through a chilly March rain, and my hands and nose are still freezing. I’ve been flirting with both of them all night, shamelessly, all in good fun, so now I reach out and press my icy hand to the strip of his stomach that’s exposed where his shirt has ridden up. He jumps a bit, and says, “Christ, you’re so cold! Do you ever warm up?” I smile and say that sure I do, but he probably doesn’t wanna know what it takes. There’s a pause as she climbs off of him to sit on the edge of the bed by me and takes one of my hands in her tiny warm ones. “Wow,” she says. “You really are cold.” He rolls over onto his stomach, looks at her, at me, grins hugely. “OK,” he says, and looks at her. “Warm her up.” There’s a beat of silence that’s pregnant with meaning as this sinks in. Does he mean what I think he means? You can see that she and I are both thinking it, wondering if he’s serious or just playing. Finally, she looks at him, square in his eyes, and asks if he’s serious. He says he his, tells her to warm me up again, and her eyes shift to meet mine. We both hesitate for a second, her expression unreadable, my mind scrambling to decide if this is really happening, or if it’s some sort of waking dream. I look at him again, and his grin has turned sly, a little wolfish, his eyes a little dark and a little edgy. “Go on,” he says.
I look back to her, so beautiful with her perfect alabaster skin, huge blue eyes, now a little wary, but there’s something else there, something kind of smoky. Her beautiful blonde hair frames her face, her lips are rosy and plump from kisses, and the tip of her tongue peeks out as she licks them a little nervously. Suddenly, I want her so badly I can practically taste her, and I’m not thinking about anything at all except kissing those lips, goose bumps springing up on my arms, desire crackling like electricity on my skin. The air goes thick with anticipation, and the silence is almost loud as I reach out a hand to brush a stray lock of hair off her cheek. She shivers a little as my hand brushes her face, and I see in her eyes that she’s made a decision. “Can’t have you being cold,” she whispers, and her voice is a little husky, a little deeper, and I can taste it rich on my tongue like caramel, explosive like berries. My hand slides from her cheek into her hair, and then she’s leaning into me, tilting her head a little, eyes fluttering shut. My eyes close too, as her lips brush mine, so gentle, the lightest of caresses at first. She and I are feeling our way here, hesitant, careful, and I press my lips to hers a little more tightly, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. I shift closer to her on the bed, angle my head so my mouth meshes more fully with hers, and my fingers tighten slightly in her hair. She sighs, and I can feel her give in and go with it, lips suddenly so soft and yielding, parting slightly on the exhale. I gently trace the edge of her lower lip with the tip of my tongue, and it’s like a dam bursting, and she’s in my arms, kissing me back, full of fire and passion. I can feel the skin on her cheeks flush, her heat pressing against me like a summer breeze, and suddenly, I’m not cold at all anymore. The blood roars in my ears, and the kiss recedes back into nothingness, our lips sliding away from each other as we both sit back, a little breathless, and look at him in unison. His eyes look dark and a little wicked, pupils a little large in the low light, the corners on his mouth turned up slightly, expression simultaneously amused and hungry. She says, “Daddy?” and it’s a question, a request for direction. He looks at me and grins, so handsome and full of fun, eyes twinkling now. “You warm now?” he asks and I nod, then he reaches out and takes one of my hands in his. His fingers brush across the inside of my wrist and his smile widens as he feels my pulse fluttering there, still a little fast. “Oh, yes,” he says, “You aren’t cold anymore. Good girl, Princess. You warmed her right up.”



I am dreaming of you, and it is a passionate dream, full of sensuality and sex, moans of pleasure. I dream that you are meeting me in a hotel room, in town for a visit. I arrive early and wait in the lobby, watching the doors for you. People come and go, and I become moist, anticipating you. I watch as people check in and out, and then suddenly, there you are, framed in the doorway, looking dark and a little dangerous, but maybe that’s just because I know why we’re here. You walk over to me without a word, pulling me up from my chair and pressing your mouth to mine, possessively, as if you could drink in my soul during this first kiss. I whimper against your lips, heat flooding my body, and then you are pulling away, walking to the desk to check in. I walk over and stand behind you, slightly to your left as you complete the transaction. You turn away, take my hand in yours and lead me to the elevator. Inside, we are alone, and you back me against the wall, kissing me again, hand sliding up under my skirt to cup my ass as your lips ravage mine. I feel you smile when you see that I’m not wearing underwear, just as you asked. You pull back, and I am breathless as your fingers caress my thighs. We get to the correct floor, and you unpin me from the wall, brushing my skirt back into place.
You lead me to the room, only letting go of my hand to unlock the door, and then you pull me inside. As the door closes behind us, you pin me to it again, hands tangling in my ponytail, hips grinding against mine so I can feel your arousal pressed against my sensitive mound. I arch my back, wanting more pressure, and you pull away, smiling at me. You gesture for me to stand up straight, and I do, shoulders back, chin up, chest out, but eyes downcast. You smile and nod, pleased to find that I am willing, wanting to submit to you. You pull my shirt over my head, and leave me standing in my lacy bra and skirt in the slight chill of the room. You slide your hands down my arms, and then trail your fingers back up, making me shiver, and my skin breaks out in goose bumps. You walk over to the edge of the bed and sit down, grabbing a pillow and setting it at your feet. I come and kneel in front of you, but you turn me around, back to you. I hear you open your bag, and then you are taking down my hair from its ponytail, brushing it, long slow strokes that feel so good on my scalp and make my hair rain down my back like silk. When you have finished brushing, you set the brush on the bed and run your fingers through it, grabbing a fistful, pulling my head back to expose the length of my throat. You motion for me to stand, and as I do, you grab my arm and drag me across your lap, so that I am standing, bent across your thighs. You pick up the hairbrush and swat me with the back of it, and I jump a little, but you pull me down tighter on your lap and push my thighs apart with your hands, leaving my ass in the air and my pussy exposed. You hit me again with the brush, changing angles and discovering new, sensitive flesh, raising a flush all over my skin. I squirm again, and you tell me to be still, then set aside the brush and caress my ass, soothing all the parts that sting, massaging away the small hurt. You slide a finger down my crack, swirling it around my anus before sliding it deep inside my hot, wet pussy. My muscles clench around you and I push back against your hand, wanting you to go deeper. You turn your wrist so that you are stroking my clit while you have a finger inside me, and I rock on your lap, harder and faster, getting so close to coming. Suddenly, you pull your fingers away and bring your cupped hand down on my mound, a stinging slap that almost sends me over the edge. “Not yet,” you say, and I nod, wanting to please you. You rearrange me so that I am kneeling on the pillow facing you, and then you stand up and unzip your pants, pulling them and your underwear off, so that your hard cock is inches from my lips. I lick my lips, and you ask me if I want you in my mouth. I nod, and you sit down on the edge of the bed. I lean forward and dart my tongue out to swirl around the head of your cock before sucking just the top into my mouth. I lick and suck, gradually working my way down your shaft until all of you is in my mouth. Your hands gently stroke my hair as I build up a steady rhythm, interrupted occasionally when I swirl my tongue around the entire length of you. I begin to bob up and down, letting you slide almost out of my mouth on the upstroke, then sucking hard as I take all of you back in. I lick and suck and tease as I hear your breath get shorter, and I slide a hand down to caress your balls. I can feel then tightening, getting ready to release, and then suddenly, I stop and pull away, leaving you gasping, cock quivering in the air. You stand up, pull me to my feet, and tell me to crawl up onto the bed, then, while I am on my hands and knees, you throw back my skirt and mount me swiftly, sliding inside with one hard thrust.