Skullet

I started writing an article about body hair in response to this week’s Revelations prompt. Then I jotted this line as my thoughts coalesced.

“Maybe something about mullets”

The thought must have been a good one because a story came out of it.

I am not going to lie. The first thing I noticed about him was the hair. “Party at the back, business at the front.” After several years working at a trade college I had seen many iterations of a mullet. Teenagers are all about proving they are individuals by doing things they know adults don’t like but then seeking desperately to fit in by copying the people they think are cool. And so, at a school where hairstyles are not regulated there were some shockers. When I first became aware of the skullet I wasn’t a fan. But it grew on me. Maybe it was the boys who sported the hairstyle or maybe it was just a better version of a bad hairstyle. 

Whatever the reason I seemed to have a soft spot for this particular hairstyle and the one I spotted was glorious. The ‘business’ section looked freshly clipped while the ‘party’ section fell down over his shoulders in a thick cascade with just a slight wave. My palms itched to explore the possibilities of that hair. To tickle my senses with the soft prickles of the number one that stood up perfectly over the top of his head followed by the surge of power as I twisted those long locks around my fingers. 

As I sat with my friends chatting over a Friday afternoon drink I found my eyes being drawn back to the hairstyle more than once. He was sitting with his back to me enjoying the same ritual as myself. A social moment in the pub after work on Friday afternoon. Perhaps a pre-cursor to a Friday night of debauchery. As I made my way to the bar for a second drink he came and stood beside me waiting to order himself another beer. I stole a look at him. This bar, favoured by tradies like him wasn’t somewhere that I would normally hang out but my work friend always liked to go there. And so here I was checking out a tradie who, on closer inspection, was probably not much older than my son. 

“So, you are mates with Adam?” The sound of his voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to look him square in the face and was dazzled by a pair of piercing blue eyes. A part of my brain registered that he was probably not much older than my son. 

“Yeh, we work together,” I replied. 

“Cool,” he nodded before turning to order a beer. “He is mates with my dad,”

Not for the first time I was amazed about the way this little community, a suburb of a larger city seemed somehow like a country town. 

“Fair enough.” I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted to keep talking. Lets be honest. I wanted to rub my hand over the fresh looking crew cut. For a few moments our eyes locked. He seemed to be reading my thoughts. I felt a throb in my groin and a slight trickle of wetness between my thighs. Suddenly I regretted the drink I had just purchased. I wanted drag him off somewhere. Images of that head between my thighs filled my mind. I leaned against the bar to steady myself as I imagined pushing his eager young face against my cunt. 

Instead I made my way back to our table and sat sipping ginger beer and making conversation. My eye, wandered. It seemed so did that of my new friend. 

A short while later I finished my drink and said goodbye. It was time to meander home and investigate dinner. The skullet and his friends no doubt had cool, young person partying to get on with. 

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” His voice startled me. 

I turned and leaned against my car tilting my head slightly to look up at him. Those eyes pierced into me and his hair seemed to frame his chiselled face perfectly. Filthy images welled up in my mind. 

“You seemed busy,” I tried desperately to be cool hoping all the time my face wasn’t giving me away. 

Behind us a ute horn sounded and a group of young men called out, “C’mon, beers are waiting!” 

He handed me a business card, “I gotta go,” the horn sounded accompanied by raucous laughter.

“Bros before hos mate,” his friends were getting impatient. 

Awkwardly he bent and whispered in my ear, “I really want to eat your gorgeous thicc arse,” The stubble of his mullet brushed against my face and then he was gone, loping towards his friends and the promised beers. 

Joined at the Hip

Photo by Felipe Bustillo on Unsplash

They were best friends. “Joined at the hip” her mother would say.  Since they had started having sleepovers in kindy they had slept in the same bed. No one had ever questioned two little girls cuddling down to go to sleep dressed in the matching pyjamas they had always insisted on. They went everywhere together. When the long summer holidays came around they spent almost every minute of every day together enjoying the freedoms of living in a small town they were able to ride their bikes wherever they pleased. One favourite place was a water hole in a creek on Piper’s father’s farm. Almost no-one else went there which made it like their secret spot. One day as they were lounging on the rocks beside the water Hallie made the statement,

“Lets swim naked!”

Piper giggled

“What if someone sees?”

“There is no-one here. If you don’t say anything no-one will know,” Hallie was always the adventurous one.”

“OK,” 

The girls shimmied out of their clothing, leaving their skimpy summer dresses scattered on the warm rocks. Piper stole a glance at her friend standing with her arms up enjoying the warm sun on her skin. High firm breasts stood to attention above her smooth honey coloured stomach. Something deep in Piper’s belly burned as her eyes dropped lower and she noticed her friend’s completely smooth mound. 

“Hallie!” She exclaimed, “Why did you shave your kitty?” 

The moment of sun worship passed and Hallie dropped her arms to her sides as she shrugged. 

“Brett asked me to,” The answer was so carefully casual. 

“Why?” 

“He reckons it makes it feel better when he fucks me.” 

“Does it?” Piper pressed her legs together. The thought of her friend fucking was making her own kitty tingle in that way it did sometimes when she thought about Hallie naked. Usually just before she touched herself, in the dark, before she went to sleep at night. 

“I dunno,” Hallie seemed bored with the conversation. 

With her heart thundering in her ears Piper stepped a little closer to her friend. 

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be with a girl?” Piper couldn’t believe she asked this question. She could feel Hallie’s breath on her face. All she could focus on was her friend’s perfect lips. She ached to kiss them. 

For the longest time Hallie didn’t answer. She looked into her friend’s eyes but Piper couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Piper thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. And then it happened. The thing she had imagined all of those times, in the dark, before she went to sleep. Hallie’s naked body was against hers, their lips were mashed together. Hallie’s hard nipples pressed against her own chest. Piper could hardly breathe. 

Hallie pulled her down onto their towels and clothes. For long moments they lay there beside each other staring up at the sky their arms close enough that they could feel each other’s head but not touching. Piper twitched her finger closer and Hallie’s. Hallie moved her hand so that it was resting on Piper’s thigh. Piper’s mind whirled. Now what? She asked herself. 

Hallie propped herself up and looked down into her friend’s face. She trailed her fingers along Piper’s jawline and down her neck.

“Your skin is so soft,” her voice was hoarse. “I never thought kissing a girl would feel like that,” 

Tentatively Piper reached out and touched Hallie’s nipple. Here eyes widened in awe as the dusky pink bud hardened under her touch. 

“I have always wanted to kiss you,” she felt incredibly shy. More than she ever had with anyone, let alone this person who she spent almost her whole life with. 

Hallie’s fingers trailed down Pipers belly to rest in the wiry hair covering her kitty. “If we do this, things will never be the same.” Her eyes were burning into Piper’s

Without any conscious thought Piper opened her legs further and arched her hips, inviting Hallie’s finger to trail deeper. The clamour of her body drowned out any responsible thoughts from her mind. “Perhaps it will be better,” she gasped as she gripped her friend’s hand and pushed it down into her warm wet slit. 

Piper groaned and writhed as Hallie’s fingers stroked her folds. It felt so much better than she had ever fantasised. So much better than when Nathan Holmes had drunkenly groped her against the shed at her mother’s birthday. She pulled herself up and pushed Hallie down so that she could press her own fingers between Hallie’s legs. It felt amazing, so warm and inviting. For what seemed like forever she watched her friend’s face as she stroked and explored. Little animal noises fell from Hallie’s lips. Piper had never seen her so vulnerable. Usually she was the brash, tough one. But in this moment the roles were reversed. 

Piper moved downwards to lie between Hallie’s legs. With her fingers she pulled back Hallie’s vulva exposing the glistening pink bud underneath.

“What are you doing?” Hallie tried to pull her knees together.

“I don’t know but I promise I won’t hurt you,” Piper was mesmerised by the sight and scent of her friend from this angle. The tip of her tongue touched Hallie’s swollen clitoris. The connection sent a jolt through both their bodies. With little flicks of her tongue Piper tasted all of Hallie, working her way down one side of her pink pussy before dipping her tongue into the deep well in the centre. Hallie’s hands alternated between pushing Piper’s face against her crotch to pushing her forehead away when things got too intense. To Piper reality faded into the background as her friend’s pleasure ebbed and flowed. The final wave came crashing down as Piper was sucking on Hallies swollen clit while pressing her fingers inside her soaking cunt. A small jet of salty juice filled her mouth as guttural groans announced Hallie’s pleasure to the watching bush. 

The two girls lay back on the rock looking upward at the sky, lost in their own thoughts. Piper could feel her own pussy throbbing aching for release. She remembered the vibrator she had bought online, sitting at home in her underwear drawer, hidden from her family. Before she even realised she was imagining how it would be if Hallie used it on her. The thought shocked her a little. Never had she let her lesbian fantasies about her lifelong friend go that far. Heat burned in her cheeks as she wondered how things would be now. Would Hallie be weird with her? Was Hallie having the same feelings the whole time? 

“Piper Malone I hate you right now,” Hallie’s voice broke the silence and made Piper’s heart drop out of her chest.

“Why?” She managed to force the word out of her dry mouth.

“Because Brett never made me feel like that and now I want to watch every lesbian porn movie we can find so we can do all the lesbian stuff together.”

For a moment Piper felt more questions bubbling up. But she decided to push them down and seize the moment. 

“I have this vibrator at home.” 

Friday Flashback – Nice Girls

Photo by Roksolana Zasiadko on Unsplash

She sits across from the table. Perfectly nice. Perfectly innocent. She wears a demure dress with a conservative neckline. Her skirts are never too short or too tight. Her makeup is always subdued and she never wears too much eyeliner or lipstick that is too bright. When you chat with her she smiles politely and looks demurely downwards. Everything about her screams, “Marry me and lets live in a perfect house and make beautiful children”. While you share your morning coffee she laughs at your bad jokes and leans forward as you speak. Touching the pearls around her neck. She makes you feel as if you are the only man in the world.

What never occurs to you is the way she presses her thighs together as thoughts of your cock flit though her mind. You can’t imagine that she would open those perfect pink lips and ram them down over your cock like she was starving for it. That you twisting her hair in your fist would make her suck even harder.  

As you chat and sip coffee in a perfectly polite way you see her eyes dart to the side. At the counter buying a brew is a young man in a suit. The fabric of his pants fits snugly over his ass. When you glance back to her she is sitting perfectly straight looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth but there is an animal look in her eyes. It makes you wonder. 

The young man pays for his coffee and turns towards you. He pauses for a moment to say good morning to her. She gives him the same demure smile that she gives you. Her face is exactly level with his crotch as he stands beside her seat. Her tongue is resting on her lips and you notice that her knuckles have whitened as she grips her cup. For a second you allow yourself to see her differently. You wonder what her arse would look like naked and inviting you to fuck her as she sucked the young man’s cock.

The young man says good bye and she looks back you you all perfect niceness and twin set and pearls. The two of you chat about the weather and the stock market for a few more minutes then you finish your coffee and walk out of the shop together. On the street you go your separate ways. As she walks up the street you watch her neat round ass in her knee length skirt. She is going to her reception desk where she will smile at people all day and talk politely to the customers on the phone. Everyone in her office likes her because she is so nice. What they, and you, don’t for a second realise is that sometimes she sits at her desk with a butt plug in her ass because she likes the feeling. No one knows that she always carries a sleek silver bullet in her handbag “for emergencies” which happen almost every lunch break and sometimes in between.

Nobody at her work would ever know that she fucks at least one guy, usually two, sometimes three and a woman if she gets a chance, almost every other weekend. Nobody would ever dream of her sucking a cock like she was starving for it or putting her ass in the air begging you to fuck her senseless like the perfect slut that she is. Everybody thinks she is a nice girl.  

Power Trip

Photo by Chris Montgomery on Unsplash

I usually keep my “Gemma life” very separate from “Mrs Jones” life. But a situation happened at work recently that prompted this story.

“Hey guys, nice to see you.” The Academic Leader, Simon,  greeted the mug shots as they popped on to the screen. 

“Hey there,” John settled into his chair. After two years zoom meetings still seemed weird to him. Beside him his colleague donned his headphones and logged in to the same meeting. Unlike John Travis was what they call a digital native. He was at ease with this kind of meeting. Even being cheeky enough to work on other tasks during the meeting. 

“They can’t see me doing that stuff,” he explained to John. “The camera sees me at my desk. I can hear what is being said. No loss to anyone and the whole meeting isn’t a complete waste of time.” 

John could never bring himself to do that. Listening to a conversation and concentrating on work was too much for him. So he sat through the stupid meeting and dreamed about retiring. 

“Helllooo everyone, sorry for being a bit late,” The broad tones of a Scottish lass pricked John’s ears. John twitched in his seat as the sound of her voice triggered the same tingle in his lower regions. 

“No worries Rowan.” Simon reassured her before he began his usual spiel. John looked over at Travis typing furiously, responding to emails and constructing worksheets for upcoming lessons. John found Travis’ energy tiring most days. He longed for a quiet life. One where he could go about his life with minimal disruption and be safe in the knowledge that if anything didn’t work in his classroom it was most definitely not anything to do with his teaching but rather his students’ shortcomings. 

The meeting droned on. John stifled a yawn. He really didn’t need to hear most of this stuff. Anything really important would be relayed by Travis. Then without warning there was a change in the tone of the meeting.

“In my experience,” Rowan’s voice remained calm despite the intensity John could feel, “this kind of practise never works for young people. We should be thinking a little bit more outside the box,” 

The familiar tingle increased as John looked at Rowan’s face on the screen. It was so hard to read expressions in the little mug shots but it didn’t matter her voice was what he was responding to. There was a break in the sound of her accent as Simon tried to placate her. But she wasn’t having it. 

“I disagree,” Was that a slight increase in volume? John listened intently to the tones of her voice feeling his own body echoing in response.

 “I know other schools are taking a very different approach and it really works.” John could feel the unfamiliar stirring of his cock. He hoped the meeting would end soon he didn’t know if he could contain his reaction.

Simon managed to shut the debate down even though John knew, and he allowed himself a wry smile at the thought, that the discussion was far from over. This woman wasn’t a pushover. The whoosh sound of everyone logging off from the meeting rang in John’s ears as he removed his headphones. Most of his colleagues had left for the day and he stood beside his desk looking around the empty office. The memory of Rowan’s voice was still strong and he felt a tightening in his pants. 

Quickly he picked up his car keys and exited the office. As he walked his erection grew. He felt as if he could hear her walking behind him. The feeling increased his arousal. Once inside his car he sat breathing heavily. Before he even realised he was fumbling with his zipper, desperate to free his dick. His hand wrapped around his shaft and began an unfamiliar shuffle. His old wrists complained but he couldn’t stop. His dick was harder than he could remember it being for a long time. He imagined her face looking at him as he stroked, demanding him to continue.

He felt the unfamiliar pressure building. The feeling of a dam about to burst. It had been so long but he couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. His breath was hot and hard and his hips bucked against the car seat. Heat surged through him and a dribble of cum covered his hand. Even his ejaculation was out of practise. He sagged back against the car seat breathing heavily. His dick receding back into its usual shell. 

After a few moments his mind cleared and he looked down at the white liquid splashed over his wrist. A string of fluid bridged the tip of his cock with the fingers that had just been stroking it. He looked around the empty carpark. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Wanking in the seat of his car like a dirty old man. He used the rag he kept behind the driver’s seat to wipe his hand clean all the time wondering what his wife would say if she knew. Worse what would Rowan say? 

He squirmed imagining her displeasure. Then his heart sank as he remembered. It would be two weeks until he heard her voice again.  

The Word for Today – Neon

The Unicorn and I are involved in this project together. Or rather she is trying to start a business and I somehow got tangled up in it. We have sewn together for a long time. She studied fashion at school. I just like sewing and have largely taught myself what I know. Now she is trying to start a label that encompasses active wear and alternative underwear. And here I am designing and making boxers and underwear for men that is not really meant to be hidden under pants. Our latest idea is neon boxers that glow under UV light.

Interestingly a group of my friends are planning to travel to the US later this year to be part of a Lifestyle Cruise. One of the themes for the evening is a “Glow Party”. Several of them are interested. My mind fills with thoughts of naked people dancing in a night club covered in bright glowing colours of mesh. As the night progresses the bodies become closer together or small groups of them break off from dancing and find an alcove to explore more. As things get more heated their glowing clothing is discarded and they climb naked into an oversized bed. Their luminescent clothing scattered about on the floor as their bodies grind together in time with the music.

The Shortest Day

This is another flash fiction type story in response to one of the “Bingo” prompts posted in the final instalment of Wicked Wednesday. Although I have not been as regular a participant as I would have liked in recent times I have enjoyed being part of this meme for the time it has been running. Click on the icon below and see who else is playing bingo

“Today is the shortest day of the year. That means it is only going to get warmer from now on!”

The principal’s voice carried across the courtyard to the shivering, fidgeting students.

“Which means I should see fewer of these random hoodies instead of your school jerseys.”

The assembled students grumbled as they stamped their feet in the cold westerly breeze

“Ok guys, you can head to class.” 

Young people straggled off to the building entrance. Relieved to be out of the biting wind but reluctant to be in class. Jennifer wrapped her jacket around her and made her way back to her office. Hugo, the principal fell into step beside her. 

“I don’t think they bought it.” She commented to her colleague.

“Probably not but they still have to lose the hoodies.” Hugo squared his shoulders. Jennifer stole a sideways glance at him. Even though he was slightly shorter than her he was solid and muscly, like a rugby league player. He radiated strength and confidence. Two things that spoke straight to Jen’s core. No. Lower than that. Her cunt. 

“Good luck with that then.” Jennifer turned into her office. Her work day yawned in front of her. Calls to parents, paperwork to sign, emails to respond to and then maybe a class or two. Within minutes she was immersed in her work. 

It seemed as if her day had passed in the blink of an eye when Jen put down the phone from the last call. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her neck before opening her diary to make notes about the call she had just made. Another student to keep an eye on. 

The sound of her office door closing interrupted her. Startled she looked up to see Hugo standing in front of her. From her position it was easy for her to drop her eyes to the suggestive bulge in his perfectly ironed pants. Despite the chill in the air Jen suddenly felt very warm. 

“Hello,” Jen hoped desperately that the flush creeping up her neck wasn’t too obvious. “What can I do for you?”

There was a small pause. Hugo seemed to be sizing her up. 

“You work too hard,” His voice was characteristically calm. Jen felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Hugo moved around her desk and Jen stood up, unsure of what was on his mind. 

“All work and no play makes for a burnt out counsellor.” They were standing face to face, almost touching. Jen could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. She wondered if he could hear her heart beating. Things seemed to be moving in slow motion as his hand reached out to take hers. His eyes bored into hers as he turned her towards her desk and bent her over it. 

Without a whimper she complied resting her warm face against the firmness of the desk. She felt his strong, fingers lifting her skirt and pulling aside the crotch of her panties. 

“You are so wet you dirty girl,” 

Jen heard the sound of a zipper. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She had imagined this very thing so many times. She felt the hard rod of his cock probing at her entrance as he pushed her legs apart before sliding his cock into her slick opening. He gave a grunt of pleasure. 

“You are such a good girl,” his hands held her hips firmly. “Do you want a good hard fucking?”

Jen gave a whimper of pleasure thankful for the desk holding her or her knees would have buckled.

Hugo withdrew his cock holding it at her entrance. She bucked her hips, trying to impale herself on his erection but he held her firmly,

“Do you want a good fucking?” He was insistent.

“Yes,” Jen managed to squeak.

He dipped his cock partway into her and withdrew again 

“I didn’t hear you,” his hands held her firmly, preventing her from backing against him like the dirty slut she wanted to be.

“Yes, YES!” Jen’s voice rang out, bouncing off the walls of her office. 

“Like this?” He pumped in to her, his belly making slapping sounds as it hit her arse. 

“YES, YES!” Jen almost screamed. 

“You are such a dirty slut,” His voice was hoarse with desire. He pumped her hard. She knew he was close, she didn’t care. All she wanted now was for him to fill her. She felt the first hot jet of his cum as his fingers clenched even tighter around her hips. His groan of pleasure filled her office.

A soft knock on the door startled Jen into wakefulness. Slightly confused from sleep she sat up and straightened her dress. 

“Come in.” 

The Office Manager opened the door, “How late are you staying today? I am just about to lock everything up.”

“How late is it?” Jen asked, alarmed that she had fallen asleep at her desk. 

“Only 4.30.” It seems so late because the sun is so low but today IS the shortest day. Rebecca, the Office Manager replied. 

Jen shuffled some papers around on her desk. Fragments of her dream were coming back into her mind and she felt a deep need to get out of here, somewhere she could organise her thoughts and do something about the deep ache in her cunt. 

“Just give me a few minutes and I will be out of here.”

As she made her way down the hallway she passed The Principal’s Office. 

“You work too hard,” he said as he looked up at her. 

“You always say that,” Jen replied desperately trying to keep her voice light.

“All work and no play makes for a dull counsellor,” Hugo’s voice followed her out to the carpark.

 

Friday Flashback – Afternoon Delights

Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash

I know that it isn’t Friday now but I promise I started working on this on Friday!.

Monica slipped the invitation out of the thick cream envelope. Her brow furrowed as she read the cryptic note.  

Your presence is desired at the home of Evelyn Palmer

To share in an afternoon of decadence

Dress; Semi formal daytime wear, heels essential, no trousers.

Her neighbour, Amanda, had mentioned Evelyn’s afternoon teas. She had insisted that they were an experience not to be missed but was reluctant to explain exactly why. Later that afternoon Monica showed Amanda the note. 

“I thought she liked you.” Amanda grinned, “This is going to be something that you will not forget.”

Amanda’s words rang in Monica’s ears as she stood in front of her closet deciding what to wear. 

“It needs to be something very feminine.” Amanda had advised. “Nothing too revealing though. Make sure you wear some noteworthy shoes though and maybe even some pearls if you have some.” 

The dress code puzzled her. Monica had tried to get more information from Amanda but she had been typically vague. Monica began to feel as if she was on the verge of being recruited to some cult like secret society. She expressed her hesitation to Amanda,

“You HAVE to go!” Amanda was scandalised that her friend was passing up the opportunity”I will never speak to you again if you don’t” 

Standing in front of the mirror Monica studied her reflection for flaws. She worried that her dress would not be quite right or that she was wearing too much makeup, or not enough. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table she realised it was time to leave, a surge of nerves rushed through her stomach,  

“Really!” she scolded herself in the mirror. “It is afternoon tea with a group of women. How bad could it be!” She picked up her purse and made her way down the stairs.

Trepidation filled Monica as she stepped into Evelyn’s garden. Six other women were seated at a perfectly decorated table. With the air of a perfectly composed hostess, Evelyn guided Monica to an empty chair and pulled it away from the table for her. Once she was seated Evelyn introduced Monica to the other guests who welcomed her warmly. The conversation began to flow and the newcomer to the other guests. Monica felt herself relax, just the tiniest bit. The other women were like her, a little keyed up but as they made their way through small talk they found some common ground and the conversation began to flow.

“Excuse me, how would you like your tea?” a male voice at her elbow startled Monica. She hadn’t thought that Evelyn would employ staff for something like this. She turned to respond but was she saw pushed all rational responses completely out of her mind, The young man standing beside her, patiently holding a tea pot was completely naked. There was a brief pause in the conversation and Monica felt a blush creeping up her neck. The hum of conversation resumed as if this was perfectly normal. Monica started to realise why Amanda had been so secretive. Following the lead of the other women she took a breath and composed herself.  

“Black with one sugar thanks,” she hoped her voice didn’t sound too odd as she tried to avoid looking at the penis which was just at her eye height. The young man gracefully filled her cup and added the sugar. His actions were perfectly natural as if he served women tea fully naked every day of his life. He moved on to the next guest filling each cup with the same grace. Trying to be subtle, Monica took in the lines of his body. He was athletic but not over muscled. Very pleasant to look at. As he made his way along the other side of the table Monica felt safe to take a look at his penis, It was “in between”. Not completely flaccid but with some shape. It seemed to have a life of it’s own as he moved between the guests. Something about watching him sent a deep warm shiver through her.  

“I love watching them,” Belinda, the woman seated next to her, interrupted Monica’s thoughts. “That is part of the fun, but you must never touch unless Evelyn invites you to.”

“OK,” Monica replied, “Thanks for the tip.” She leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea. The afternoon had taken on a surreal air. Monica was starting to feel as if she was Alice and had fallen down a rabbit hole.  

“Excuse me,” another male voice interrupted Monica’s reverie. She turned towards the voice. If the first server had been pleasant to look at this one was positively pornographic. His skin had a slight sheen to it and she noticed that his nipples were firm. Inside her bra Monica felt her own nipples hardening and a slight throb echoed between her legs. The young man held a tray of treats. With a slight quiver Monica indicated two cakes and the man neatly transferred them to her plate. 

“Thank you” she said quietly. He nodded his head and then made his way around the rest of the table. When each plate was full he set his tray on the side table and stood beside his friend with his hands behind his back. His cock was slightly firmer than his friend. As he stood there, completely exposed, being quietly observed by a group of women dressed to the nines, Monica could have sworn that his erection grew larger. 

The afternoon passed pleasantly, cups were emptied and replenished. More cakes were offered. No one in the group touched either of the young men but Monica began to feel a haze of lust intensifying. Gazes lingered, the ladies touched their own necklines as the servers passed. The air even seemed to have a hint of female musk. Just when Monica thought she could no longer contain the ache in her own cunt Evelyn drained the last of her tea from her cup and placed it upside down on her saucer. 

The two young men stepped forward and stood on either side of Evelyn’s chair. The conversation around the table frittered away to silence as every pair of eyes was turned towards the head of the table.  

“Monica’s shoes are the most exquisite things I have ever seen,” Evelyn commented to the group as if she were continuing the conversation. “Turn your chair out so that we can see them.” she smiled encouragingly at Monica. Embarrassed Monica turned her chair so that her legs were pulled out from under the table. 

“Eric just adores beautiful women’s shoes don’t you?” Evelyn looked up to the pornographic your man who had moved to stand beside Monica. There was a small sigh from the women around the table. “Show Monica how you feel about her shoes Eric.” Evelyn commanded. 

Monica’s heart almost beat out of her chest as Eric kneeled in front of her. Reverently he reached down and took her left foot in his hands. Monica held her breath as bent down and placed his lips on the toe of her shoe. Monica was transfixed 

“Don’t, move” Belinda whispered in her ear. 

Monica glanced at Belinda, her eyes glittered with desire as she watched Eric kissing every inch of Monica’s shoe. 

“Isn’t that the most beautiful thing?” Belinda’s voice was husky, “A man like that adoring you so perfectly.” 

Monica looked down. Eric’s fingers had slipped inside her shoe and were pressing against her instep as he kissed along the edge of her shoe. His lips brushed against the skin of her foot and a shudder went through her. Unconsciously Monica pressed her clenched fists against her pubis. 

Eric stopped kissing and rocked back on his heels. His cock was fully engorged and it stood out proudly in front of him. His hand remained, resting on her foot. Beside Monica, Belinda made a small sound of desire. At the head of the table Evelyn emained impassive.

“If he pleases you,” She spoke clearly and firmly. “You may borrow him for the afternoon. He is quite attentive and will tend to your every whim.” 

Monica felt heat colouring her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Evelyn smiled warmly at her. “Just enjoy yourself. Eric won’t do anything you don’t ask him to do.” 

There was a collective sigh of desire as Eric held his hand out to Monica and helped her stand. Monica realised her panties were soaking but she didn’t care all that mattered was this man and the adventure ahead of her. As she gathered her handbag Belinda whispered to her,

”Welcome to the club, have a fantastic afternoon.” 

Magical Dreaming

Design is copyright of Missy Rose Fabrics

I recently discovered a delicious fabric supplier that is Australian based. I am currently working with the design pictured. When I read the Wicked Wednesday prompt “Magical Power” this weird idea popped into my head.

“If you could have anything in the world what would it be?” The smooth timbre of the creature’s voice broke through the magic of the clearing. 

Sally stirred, turning to feel the sun on her face as it filtered through the trees. The creature nuzzled her neck, making her wiggle against his sift velvet skin. Without thinking she lifted her hands to cup her naked breasts, lifting them upwards as her fingers explored the smooth skin and her fingers toyed idly with her erect nipples. 

“How could I want anything more than this?” Her voice sounded strange in her ears, kind of sleepy but deeper and huskier, and somehow more satisfied than she had been in a long time. 

The creature gave a satisfied rumble from deep in his body. “You are right, how could we want anything more than this?” He moved downwards stroking Sally’s breasts with the smooth skin of his forehead. Sally felt a stirring between her thighs. It was truly magical being here with him, everything about him was perfect. The creature continued his descent over her belly, leaving a silvery trail of desire as he caressed and teased. Sally’s knees fell apart in anticipation. The creature gave another rumble of desire.

“You are such a greedy girl,” he admonished her, all the while moving closer to the centre of her greed. 

“How can I not be greedy when I have something as delicious and perfect as you.” Sally responded, running her thumb over his forehead, smearing the clear fluid of his arousal over his skin before she lifted her digit to her mouth to taste him. She sighed in delight at the sensation on her tongue. The perfect blend of salt with a tiny bit of sweet. She could drink this nectar all day. 

“You know what they say, too much of a good thing is dangerous.” The creature admonished her, his voice slightly muffled as he began to nuzzle between her legs. 

“Never!” Sally’s statement ended in a sigh as he began to work his magic. Warm waves of pleasure travelled through her body and her back arched sending her breasts jutting high into the sunshine. A butterfly fluttered down from the trees and landed nearby watching, mesmerised by the beauty of the woman abandoning herself to the attentions of her creature. Birds twittered softly in the canopy, tittilating themselves with stories of other creatures that lived in this forest and the women who came to visit. 

The little clearing became alive with the sounds of Sally as the creature teased out her pleasure, stroking her folds and sucking gently on the swollen nub at the top of her slit. A stream of juice rewarded him and he drank greedily, pressing his face firmly against her. 

“Please,” her voice was strained with the urgency of her desire, “I need you, all of you.” 

As always the creature responded to her perfectly. His smooth skin slipped deeper downwards seeking out her opening. Sally held her legs wide. She gave a groan as he penetrated her. Diving deep inside her, like he had so many times. She never understood how he managed to be so perfect but he always was. No matter what he filled her exactly how she needed to be filled. She squeezed her thighs close around him, driving her deeper and he responded swelling just a little to fill her out. The sensation of stretching sent another jolt of pleasure through her body. The forest filled with her cries of pleasure. 

Around the clearing other forest creatures gathered, honouring the bond between the woman and her creature. In the trees the birds were silent, watching, committing every detail to memory to twitter to each other later. The movement of the creature became faster, more urgent. He was nearing his own peak. Sally’s fingers worked the swollen nub he had roused earlier. She was waiting for him, he was waiting for her. Together the reached the peak, filling the clearing with the sound of their release. 

As the sounds echoed away and the two of them lay, curled up in the nest of moss the creatures of the forest began to disperse, each inspired to seek their own clearings. In the trees the birds began quiet chattering, the beginning of a new story. 

Slowly Sally’s eyes opened, sun was streaming through the window of her room. Sheets were rumpled around her and her pillows nestled against her body. Between her legs the moisture of her desire remained. She smiled, remembering her dream. 

“Until we meet again my magical creature.” She whispered to the empty room. 

Table

For Boobday on Friday I posted an image of a table I had been restoring. As I was working on this project a germ of a story was planted.

“Look at this!” Shelli exclaimed as she pulled the drop sheet away from the table sitting in the back of the shed. Dust billowed into the air making Pete sneeze as he came to investigate her find. Even in the dim light of the dusty shed the table seemed to dominate. Pete ran his fingers over the wood admiring the solid construction. 

“You don’t see furniture like this anywhere these days.”  

The wood was dark with age and grime from years of use. Years of being part of the family that lived here before the farm was abandoned after a long drought. Like everything here, the table held stories of better days and dreams for a future that never eventuated. 

“This will look amazing in the dining room,” Shelli’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“I agree, let’s get it outside.” 

Together they lugged the surprisingly heavy table out into the sunlight. “Man I didn’t think it would be THAT heavy,” Shelli leaned against the furniture breathing heavily as Pete inspected their find more closely in the daylight.

Despite the dust and grime Pete could see that the timber was unusual.

“I wonder what it is made of,” he mused as he brushed away dust and scratched the surface with his fingernail. A layer of oil mixed with dirt filled his nail but he was unable to make an indent in the timber itself. Close inspection revealed evidence of saw marks indicating that the planks may have been hewn by hand. 

“It is definitely hardwood,” Shelli concurred. 

“I think it is home made.” Pete continued his inspection admiring the solid way the table was constructed. “Whoever made it wanted to make sure it lasted.” 

Over the next few weeks the table became one of the many projects Pete and Shelli tackled as they worked to bring order and life into their new home. They knew a little of the sad story. The farm was owned by an older lifelong farmer who had inherited the property from his own father. He had lost his wife to cancer and continued to live and work in the only place he had ever known until a tragic accident had taken his life. His adult children could not agree about how to continue running the farm or how to arrange finances. In the end a long drought had decreased the value so much that the family had been unable to sell and had simply walked away. They had stripped the house of anything of value and piled unwanted furniture into the shed. Everything else was left where it stood. Fencing wire and old machinery rusted in the paddock. 

As she scrubbed and sanded the table Shelli reflected on the history of the table. She imagined the original owner constructing the table specifically for the dining room of their newly built house. Her mind wandered to meals shared by the farmer and his wife after long hard days of work. Of stories told and games played with children who followed. Of Christmas dinners shared and birthdays celebrated. How this table saw the children grow up and perhaps even bring their own children to sit at the table to be part of family celebrations. Deep inside she wanted to honour the family by following this tradition. To make the table the centre of her own family and her and Pete’s dreams. 

Eventually the table was finished. The dining room was cleaned and painted. Pete and Shelli lugged it up the steps and through the door. Finally the table was back where it belonged. To mark the occasion Shelli cooked a roast dinner with meat from their own cattle. The first beast they grew. The whole evening was symbolic of a new beginning. New life being breathed into the buildings of the old farm. The air was filled with possibility. 

Pete sat at the head of the table. Perhaps the farmer who had died had sat in that very spot every evening. When the meal was finished Shelli cleared away their plates stacking them neatly to ferry them to the sink for washing. There was no money or spare electricity for dishwashers here. Pete’s hand slid up Shelli’s thigh as she leaned forward to remove the salt and pepper. 

“Someone is frisky tonight,” she smiled back at her husband. 

“How could I not be?” He responded with his own grin. “Fantastic meal, beautiful wife. Who is hot as fuck.” His fingers slid under the elastic of her panties. “And I believe she is as horny as me.”

Shelli leaned further forward to retrieve a teacup, “I swear I have no idea what you are talking about.” Her skirt lifted higher as Pete’s fingers dipped into her wet opening. 

“Really?” He asked as he moved his face close enough to inhale the scent of her.

“Absolutely! Unnff,” She collapsed on the table as his fingers stroked her opening. Her legs spread wider as he pushed his fingers deep inside her, finding the places he knew would make her weak at the knees. Groans of pleasure filled the dining room as she writhed in pleasure, completely at his mercy. Liquid trickled down his fingers sending a jolt straight to his cock. 

Without speaking he stood up from his chair and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free throbbing with desire for his wife. With his tongue touching his lips Pete pulled aside Shelli’s sodden panties. There was a sound of stitches tearing but he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was burying himself deep inside her.

As his cock touched her she backed against him eagerly her desire matched his as he gripped her hips pumping hungrily. From the first thrust he knew he would not be able to last. She was so amazing, her arse was so full and round, slapping against his belly. He could feel the familiar pressure of his seed pressing against the base of his cock, clamouring to fill her. He held as long as he could but it was not long. With a loud groan he pumped his load into her. His strong fingers gripped her hips, she held herself against him eagerly welcoming his jizz. 

His body collapsed over hers, a slight sheen of sweat formed on his back as he revelled in the warmth of her body and the smell of their sex. After a few moments he started to worry about his weight on top of her and he stood up to free her. His cock slid out of her and a dribble of his cum formed on her leg. Shelli squeezed her legs together.

“I don’t want to lose any,” she whispered against the tablecloth.

Pete smiled fondly and caressed the line of her back making her shiver, “Why not?”

“I want to grow more than just cows.” She looked at him with a sly look on her face, “This table is too big for just two people.” 

In the Dark

Photo by Krista Mangulsone on Unsplash

Sleep receded slowly as his body became aware of her sliding into the bed beside him. His cock stirred as she snuggled beside him, In the midnight darkness of his room their lips met, his hands caressed her soft curves, cupping her breast and tasing her nipples before sliding downwards to the space between her thighs. Her hand closed around his stiffening cock stroking gently. As his arousal grew his breathing became quicker. Fo so long he had waited for this. Many evenings they had flirted. Once or twice they had caressed and fondled but somehow she had never been in his bed. It was almost like the dream that he had been enjoying.

His fingers slid into her slit. She was slick and wet with arousal and her body arched towards him. Her legs fell open inviting his fingers deeper towards the centre of her arousal. He responded to her invitation, sliding deeper into her folds until he found her swollen nub. He circled the little node with wide gentle circles as she writhed and gasped against him. Her hand covered his pressing his fingers harder against her groin. The sound of her voice increased sending echoes of her pleasure down the darkened hallway to the ears of other people listening in other rooms. He slid his fingers inside her and was rewarded with a jet of warm liquid covering his hand and making a damp patch on the sheets beneath them.

He leaned down and kissed her, he could feel her smiling in the darkness. Pleased with herself at surprising him. She pushed herself upright and straddled his hips so that his cock was resting against her wet opening. She moved her hips so that his cock was rubbing against her clit causing her to shudder in pleasure. Warm juice spurted over his belly dribbling down onto the sheets. The sound of her pleasure filled the room. He reached up and cupped her breasts, delighting in their fullness as she pleasured herself against his cock. In the movement and the wetness his cock slipped inside her. She ground down onto him, pushing his cock deep into herself. A small sliver of dawn light pierced the darkness and he could see her watching him intently as she rocked her hips over his cock. Her cunt was so wet and so hungry that he knew he wouldn’t last long. 

Somehow it didn’t matter. She was intent on milking his climax from him. He allowed himself to ride the waves of pleasure she was giving him. He gripped her hips firmly moving her faster, in time with the rising tension in his body. The orgasm ripped through him making him cry out in pleasure. She held his cock inside her until the orgasm ebbed away and he was lying quietly, basking in the afterglow. Without a word she slipped out of his bed and padded quietly down the hallway taking the memory of his orgasm pleasure back to her waiting husband.