Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Blatant Plug Wednesday - Bad, Bad Girl
Here's another wonderful blog I've discovered, Bad Bad Girl. BBG has a number of totally unbiased reviews of the latest adult toys, some wonderful erotica, and a great feature called "Half Nekkid Thursdays" - not to be missed. She is currently running a contest; there's not much time left but I'm getting my entry in! Here's the deets, get on over there and enter. A great way for you to enjoy some anonymous exhibitionism!
Bad Bad Girl's Blog Anniversary Contest
Bad Bad Girl's Blog Anniversary Contest
Drawings
How to get an entry (you can do both):
1. Post the details of the contest on your blog, saying something wonderful about me along with the list/links of prizes up for grabs. You will need this paragraph (from ‘Drawings’ to the last prize). (you must leave me a comment here so I know you did it)
2. Email me a picture wishing me a happy blog anniversary I will post it on my anniversary. badbadgirlx (at) gmail (dot) com (Nudity is greatly appreciated)
See, I’m easy. (As if you didn’t know!!) I MAY add a third way half way thru, stay tuned for that!
Here’s the things up for grabs and the fantastic vendors who are supplying some of the best, coolest and my favorite items.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
An Unexpected Evening, Part 3
Reaching down the bed I unclasp each of your ankles, your legs closing ever so slightly in relief, your thighs tremoring as they savor their new found freedom. Reaching above your head, I uncoil the ties around your wrists, noting that they were for show only - you could've escaped at any time. I will correct that soon. I give you a few moments to recover before I take command again.
"Take off that... thing. I want to see your tits."
You comply without a word, sitting up on the bed and reaching behind you to release the various clasps, sutures and loops that holds the bodice so close to your ribcage. As it releases you fold it in across your chest, hold it out to the side and let it fall to the floor. In an anachronistic show of modesty, you fold your hands across your breasts, awaiting my next instructions. They do not come.
As quick as I can I grasp both your wrists and pull them back above your head, pulling you back down to the bed as I do so. I find the ties that were so recently wound cosmetically around your wrists, separate them, and loop them around your hands and wrists. Within moments your hands are truly tied above your head, firmly wrapped about the wrists, the knot facing away from your fingers. If I placed a pair of scissors in your hands, I doubt you could manage an escape.
You test the bonds playfully, and I hear your breathing quicken when you realize how tight the ties are this time. For the first time this evening, you are aware of your commitment, the possibilities descend on you like a swarm, and your arms go limp. Before now, you were captain-in-absentia of this little scene, now with one well placed knot you have become a passenger in steerage.
Stepping back to the bathroom, I rummage through drawers, making no effort to conceal the sounds of my search. I yank a drawer out to its stops, then slam it closed just as quickly, until I find the tool I seek.
Dental floss. Waxed and mint flavored, to be precise.
I return to the bed pulling a long strand of the taut, slick thread from the container. At the very end I fashion a slipknot, and breaking the line on the handy steel cutter built into the lid, I feed the string back through itself until I have a small lasso tied into the end. Working quicker now, I prepare a second coil of floss in the same manner. As I work, I watch your face flush and blanch, over and over, as your mind tries to reconcile the sounds you can pick out.
With my garrotes in hand, I walk along the side of the bed, dragging my thigh against the sheets so that you'll hear my approach. I reach down and grab your left breast firmly in my fingers, gathering it up into my fist, until all that remains exposed is a stiff, elongated nipple. I slip the loop of one floss lasso over the peak, and roll it down to the base. I smile as I pull it tight, watching you grimace ever so slightly. Circling the bed, fingers trailing on the sheets, I repeat the performance on your other nipple, snapping it a few times to get it hard once again.
With your nipples lassoed, I slide my fingertips down across your stomach and lower, just glancing across your lips before tracing down your inner thigh, across your knee to your calf, stopping at your instep. I clutch your foot firmly in my hand and bring it up, bending your knee in the process. I continue until your leg is pressed into a z-shape against your chest, your knee nearly touching the nipple I most recently secured with the floss. Before you have a chance to object, I pick up the lead of floss, and wrap it around your little toe two, three, four times. I close it off with a quick knot, then press up on your calf to test my work.
Your leg yields for a moment, until the motion takes all slack out of the line and your nipple, nay, your whole tit is lifted in the direction of your foot. You have perhaps an inch and a half of slack between how tightly you can clasp your knees to your chest and when your toe begins to yank on your breast. I pull your foot upward until you squeal, testing the strength of the slipknot. Satisfied, I come around to complete the tie on your other side; knowing what's to come you resist, refusing to bend your knee. I reach across and tickle the foot that's already hanging in midair, and as you try to escape you pull the cord tight again, your giggle turning into a yelp. You raise your other foot without comment, pulling even tighter to your chest, and I complete my rig.
I stand up at the foot of the bed and admire my work a moment. Your hands secured over your head, blindfold still in place, you are now at my mercy. You carefully work out how much you can relax each leg before the pinching becomes unbearable, and I'm pleased to see the distance for each leg is fairly close. With both legs up in the air, you are entirely exposed, from where I stand the crotchless panties provide no cover at all; any erogenous zone I could want is splayed open to the cool, dry air of the bedroom.
Fetching my jeans from the floor, I tug out the thick leather belt I've had for years. I wrap it, buckle first, around my hand, and loop until only a foot or so of strap extends beyond my clenched fingers. Without word or warning I bring the strap down across your ass, now pointing nearly straight out off the bed.
The result is immediate, a small squeak bursts from your throat, hangs in the air for a moment and is lost beneath the rush of air as you gasp hurriedly. On impact, your instinct was to hide your backside, and your legs attempted to straighten out. As they did so, the line securing nipples to toes was stretched to its max, and your feet attempted to take your breasts with them. Recovering from the blow, your chest heaves, and I can see that both slipknots have dug deeper into your tender flesh. I raise my arm above my head for another stinging slap.
You have learned now; while each stinging blow elicits a fresh convulsion, your feet do not stray from your chest. Even without your hands, you keep your knees pressed tightly to your breasts, exposing yourself further to the sharp, taut leather, sacrificing your most sacred offerings so that the tight string not bite any deeper. I revel in it for a while, the strap licking back and forth, until I'm satisfied with the hue of your thighs and ass, and realize that you're not going to move your feet again no matter how I tan your hide.
I drop the belt to the floor, and crawl up on to the bed until my head hovers just over your weeping sex. Up close now, I study the telltale lines the belt has left behind, counting how many slightly raised welts extend off the curve of your ass and into the luminous white flesh of your inner thigh, the quivering border of your outer labia. Gently I press your lips apart, grin at the surplus of moisture that lies beyond. Curious, I slide two fingers deep inside you, they glide knuckle deep without resistance. As I extract them a small river of wet breaks its headwaters, trickling over your exposed pucker and down between your ass cheeks. I stare, unable to help myself, until it's crept out of my sight.
I replace the fingers with my thumb, and run the pad up the length of your lips, right and left, pressing firmly on your clit as I pass it. Three more times my thumb slowly probes your sex, until it comes to rest just below your canal, tugging it open to the night air. My middle finger slides up the back of your crevice, finding natural lubrication, and stops just above your ass; my mouth, half-open, descends from above, aiming for your clitoris.
As I make contact with my mouth and my thumb presses more urgently, I can hear you blaspheming at the head of the bed. You strive to hold your legs still, the floss still tethered to your toes just above my head, as my tongue laps up and down, around and across your clitoris. The scene has had an affect on you, you are clearly very close to cumming again, but I grant you no mercy. Each time I find a particularly good spot, your legs twitch, and your moan becomes a gasp as you pull your feet in tight again. I slide lower, tonguing the entrance of your canal, pressing in as far as I can and pulling back out, fucking you with my mouth. As I feel you begin to shake, I lift my thumb from your asshole and let my tongue drift down instead. As I run the tip of my tongue across your rosebud, I raise my hands and clasp your ankles to my head tightly, anticipating the reaction as you crash over the edge.
You scream wordlessly as you crash into your second orgasm, and from the looks of things this one is far more intense. Your feet crush against my head, pulling me down further into you, I fight a moment's panic as I fear I might drown. Instead I press more firmly with my tongue, shaking my head vigorously, determined to make your climax as memorable as it was complicated. I slow my onslaught to soft, languid circles as your convulsions come further and further apart, I release my hold on your ankles, leaving you to again control the tension on your nipples. You ease the clamping force on my head and I withdraw, breathing hard myself, I sit upright and observe the predicament I've placed you in.
I grab my pocketknife out of my jeans and disconnect your toes. Carefully I loosen the slipknots on your nipples and cast them aside. Reluctant to take the knife between your toes, I settle for using my teeth, loosening the floss from around your pinky toes and watching the blood flow back into them. As you stretch your feet back out down the bed, knees still bent and thighs still wide apart, I see and then hear you begin to laugh. It starts off as a twitch, but quickly grows to hysterics.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
Your reply came between fits of laughter. "I was genuinely afraid that you were going to hurt me! The last thing I expected was to come twice before you'd so much as fucked me!!"
-- To Be Continued --
"Take off that... thing. I want to see your tits."
You comply without a word, sitting up on the bed and reaching behind you to release the various clasps, sutures and loops that holds the bodice so close to your ribcage. As it releases you fold it in across your chest, hold it out to the side and let it fall to the floor. In an anachronistic show of modesty, you fold your hands across your breasts, awaiting my next instructions. They do not come.
As quick as I can I grasp both your wrists and pull them back above your head, pulling you back down to the bed as I do so. I find the ties that were so recently wound cosmetically around your wrists, separate them, and loop them around your hands and wrists. Within moments your hands are truly tied above your head, firmly wrapped about the wrists, the knot facing away from your fingers. If I placed a pair of scissors in your hands, I doubt you could manage an escape.
You test the bonds playfully, and I hear your breathing quicken when you realize how tight the ties are this time. For the first time this evening, you are aware of your commitment, the possibilities descend on you like a swarm, and your arms go limp. Before now, you were captain-in-absentia of this little scene, now with one well placed knot you have become a passenger in steerage.
Stepping back to the bathroom, I rummage through drawers, making no effort to conceal the sounds of my search. I yank a drawer out to its stops, then slam it closed just as quickly, until I find the tool I seek.
Dental floss. Waxed and mint flavored, to be precise.
I return to the bed pulling a long strand of the taut, slick thread from the container. At the very end I fashion a slipknot, and breaking the line on the handy steel cutter built into the lid, I feed the string back through itself until I have a small lasso tied into the end. Working quicker now, I prepare a second coil of floss in the same manner. As I work, I watch your face flush and blanch, over and over, as your mind tries to reconcile the sounds you can pick out.
With my garrotes in hand, I walk along the side of the bed, dragging my thigh against the sheets so that you'll hear my approach. I reach down and grab your left breast firmly in my fingers, gathering it up into my fist, until all that remains exposed is a stiff, elongated nipple. I slip the loop of one floss lasso over the peak, and roll it down to the base. I smile as I pull it tight, watching you grimace ever so slightly. Circling the bed, fingers trailing on the sheets, I repeat the performance on your other nipple, snapping it a few times to get it hard once again.
With your nipples lassoed, I slide my fingertips down across your stomach and lower, just glancing across your lips before tracing down your inner thigh, across your knee to your calf, stopping at your instep. I clutch your foot firmly in my hand and bring it up, bending your knee in the process. I continue until your leg is pressed into a z-shape against your chest, your knee nearly touching the nipple I most recently secured with the floss. Before you have a chance to object, I pick up the lead of floss, and wrap it around your little toe two, three, four times. I close it off with a quick knot, then press up on your calf to test my work.
Your leg yields for a moment, until the motion takes all slack out of the line and your nipple, nay, your whole tit is lifted in the direction of your foot. You have perhaps an inch and a half of slack between how tightly you can clasp your knees to your chest and when your toe begins to yank on your breast. I pull your foot upward until you squeal, testing the strength of the slipknot. Satisfied, I come around to complete the tie on your other side; knowing what's to come you resist, refusing to bend your knee. I reach across and tickle the foot that's already hanging in midair, and as you try to escape you pull the cord tight again, your giggle turning into a yelp. You raise your other foot without comment, pulling even tighter to your chest, and I complete my rig.
I stand up at the foot of the bed and admire my work a moment. Your hands secured over your head, blindfold still in place, you are now at my mercy. You carefully work out how much you can relax each leg before the pinching becomes unbearable, and I'm pleased to see the distance for each leg is fairly close. With both legs up in the air, you are entirely exposed, from where I stand the crotchless panties provide no cover at all; any erogenous zone I could want is splayed open to the cool, dry air of the bedroom.
Fetching my jeans from the floor, I tug out the thick leather belt I've had for years. I wrap it, buckle first, around my hand, and loop until only a foot or so of strap extends beyond my clenched fingers. Without word or warning I bring the strap down across your ass, now pointing nearly straight out off the bed.
The result is immediate, a small squeak bursts from your throat, hangs in the air for a moment and is lost beneath the rush of air as you gasp hurriedly. On impact, your instinct was to hide your backside, and your legs attempted to straighten out. As they did so, the line securing nipples to toes was stretched to its max, and your feet attempted to take your breasts with them. Recovering from the blow, your chest heaves, and I can see that both slipknots have dug deeper into your tender flesh. I raise my arm above my head for another stinging slap.
You have learned now; while each stinging blow elicits a fresh convulsion, your feet do not stray from your chest. Even without your hands, you keep your knees pressed tightly to your breasts, exposing yourself further to the sharp, taut leather, sacrificing your most sacred offerings so that the tight string not bite any deeper. I revel in it for a while, the strap licking back and forth, until I'm satisfied with the hue of your thighs and ass, and realize that you're not going to move your feet again no matter how I tan your hide.
I drop the belt to the floor, and crawl up on to the bed until my head hovers just over your weeping sex. Up close now, I study the telltale lines the belt has left behind, counting how many slightly raised welts extend off the curve of your ass and into the luminous white flesh of your inner thigh, the quivering border of your outer labia. Gently I press your lips apart, grin at the surplus of moisture that lies beyond. Curious, I slide two fingers deep inside you, they glide knuckle deep without resistance. As I extract them a small river of wet breaks its headwaters, trickling over your exposed pucker and down between your ass cheeks. I stare, unable to help myself, until it's crept out of my sight.
I replace the fingers with my thumb, and run the pad up the length of your lips, right and left, pressing firmly on your clit as I pass it. Three more times my thumb slowly probes your sex, until it comes to rest just below your canal, tugging it open to the night air. My middle finger slides up the back of your crevice, finding natural lubrication, and stops just above your ass; my mouth, half-open, descends from above, aiming for your clitoris.
As I make contact with my mouth and my thumb presses more urgently, I can hear you blaspheming at the head of the bed. You strive to hold your legs still, the floss still tethered to your toes just above my head, as my tongue laps up and down, around and across your clitoris. The scene has had an affect on you, you are clearly very close to cumming again, but I grant you no mercy. Each time I find a particularly good spot, your legs twitch, and your moan becomes a gasp as you pull your feet in tight again. I slide lower, tonguing the entrance of your canal, pressing in as far as I can and pulling back out, fucking you with my mouth. As I feel you begin to shake, I lift my thumb from your asshole and let my tongue drift down instead. As I run the tip of my tongue across your rosebud, I raise my hands and clasp your ankles to my head tightly, anticipating the reaction as you crash over the edge.
You scream wordlessly as you crash into your second orgasm, and from the looks of things this one is far more intense. Your feet crush against my head, pulling me down further into you, I fight a moment's panic as I fear I might drown. Instead I press more firmly with my tongue, shaking my head vigorously, determined to make your climax as memorable as it was complicated. I slow my onslaught to soft, languid circles as your convulsions come further and further apart, I release my hold on your ankles, leaving you to again control the tension on your nipples. You ease the clamping force on my head and I withdraw, breathing hard myself, I sit upright and observe the predicament I've placed you in.
I grab my pocketknife out of my jeans and disconnect your toes. Carefully I loosen the slipknots on your nipples and cast them aside. Reluctant to take the knife between your toes, I settle for using my teeth, loosening the floss from around your pinky toes and watching the blood flow back into them. As you stretch your feet back out down the bed, knees still bent and thighs still wide apart, I see and then hear you begin to laugh. It starts off as a twitch, but quickly grows to hysterics.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
Your reply came between fits of laughter. "I was genuinely afraid that you were going to hurt me! The last thing I expected was to come twice before you'd so much as fucked me!!"
-- To Be Continued --
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
An Unexpected Evening, Part 2
As my fingers worked the buttons my mind raced with the opportunities before me. Every bit of fetish, hardcore and BDSM porn I'd ever seen flashed through my mind. In my jeans, the monster was already awakening, straining against the tight bonds of denim. Yet as it swelled, so too did my gratitude, that you would put yourself out like this, take such a risk, and do so with such grace and confidence.
As I pulled my shirt back off my shoulders, I begrudgingly acknowledged that I needed a shower. Well, I'll keep it short. I glanced back at you again, still prone and spread-eagled on the bed, and was struck by an idea. If I had to make you wait another minute longer, I could certainly do something to spice it up. My eyes traced your body once again, at last coming to rest on the cuffs circling your ankles.
"So, these cuffs - is there some way to use--"
"Look under the bed," you replied, smiling mischievously. I quickly dropped to my knees and lifted the bedskirt. Tied around the bed leg was a length of strap, with a spring-loaded hook at the end. I pulled the strap out from under the bed and marveled at you once again. I felt a sudden sense of urgency and grasped roughly at your ankle.
I pulled your leg out until it met the hook, snapped it on, then cinched the strap up tight to pull your leg out even wider. Circling around the bed, I found the matching strap and did the same to your left leg, relishing your gasp as I tugged the strap even tighter. Your legs were spread very wide now, your feet almost as far apart as the king bed was wide. I admired my work a moment, and then set off for the closet.
Quickly I fished out our toy box, pulled open the folded cardboard flaps, and found your rabbit. I held it tightly in my hand and pushed a button, relieved when it pulsed to life that I wouldn't have to go searching for batteries this time. Returning to the bedroom, I snatched a pillow off the bed, and then climbed up and kneeled down between your wide-open thighs.
The lamp in the corner played with the contours of your mons, soft ridges were nearly white in their brightness, before shadow crept in as your soft skin folded down to your lips. Already, without my having touched you at all, the inner lips were a darker pink than the rest of you, and they seemed thicker than normal. At the very top, I could make out just the very tip of your clitoris, a smooth pink orb like a pearl, and it seemed to me as though it was calling my name.
Unable to resist, I dipped my head and exhaled across your lips, then let my tongue trace a long, slow line from the very bottom of your slit, slowly and firmly, until your clit popped out from underneath it and I felt your whole body twitch. I savored both scent and flavor, their telling me that you were enjoying this as much as I, and in fact, probably had been for some time. You seemed to tense in anticipation of the next stroke, but I had other plans.
I brought the rabbit up between my face and your sex, and held it just above your lips for a moment. Then I inserted it into you, your quick intake of air filling the room, pressing firmly but not too fast, until the ears were just below the apex of your labia. Grabbing the pillow, I pulled it up between your legs, then adjusted the angle and depth until the rabbit ears slid beneath your hood, clutching your clitoris between the two silicone probes. I pressed the pillow underneath your thighs, fluffing the middle and pressing it firmly against the toy. It probably wouldn't last, but it wouldn't need to either. A mischievous grin swept over my face.
"I need to take a shower," I said, clicking the toy onto low vibration, "but I didn't want you to be bored." I pressed the button to begin oscillating the pearl-filled cock deep inside you. "I won't be long," clicking both buttons up in intensity, "don't go anywhere!"
As I climbed off the bed and unbuttoned my pants, I watched as your hips moved almost imperceptibly up and down. "Don't move," I announced intently, "if that falls out while I'm gone there will be consequences."
I shuffled out of my jeans and freed myself from my boxers, freshly marked with a moist spot of pre-cum. I watched you as I stepped into the bathroom, and turned on the water in the shower to let it warm up. Quietly, I stepped back into the room, leaned over the bed and pressed the vibration up button one more time. As I heard you mewl, I jogged quickly back to the bathroom, overjoyed at my good fortune.
As I rushed through my shower, the soft scent of soap and steam swirling around me, I thought of what to do next. I finished showering in record time, shut off the water, and as I opened the shower door I heard you begin to gasp and moan. I hurried to the door, nearly slipping on the tile, to catch the last throes of your first orgasm of the evening. As your breathing settled, you intimated in a near whisper, "I think it fell out."
Softly I padded to the bed and looked down at the rabbit. It had indeed slid out, but at least 2" of the shaft were still pressed inside of you. Your face was bent into a sexy pout, and I was overcome by a wave of affection.
"It slipped out. But not all the way," I said sternly. "You're safe. For now."
I reached down and removed the pillow and the rabbit from the bed, my cock straining as I noticed the moist trail of passion that had slipped from your crevice and begun to darken the bedsheets below. Emboldened by your blindfold and safe from judgment, I licked the shaft of the rabbit, lapping up the sweet and tangy evidence of your pleasure.
Setting it aside, I prepared myself for phase two.
-- To Be Continued --
As I pulled my shirt back off my shoulders, I begrudgingly acknowledged that I needed a shower. Well, I'll keep it short. I glanced back at you again, still prone and spread-eagled on the bed, and was struck by an idea. If I had to make you wait another minute longer, I could certainly do something to spice it up. My eyes traced your body once again, at last coming to rest on the cuffs circling your ankles.
"So, these cuffs - is there some way to use--"
"Look under the bed," you replied, smiling mischievously. I quickly dropped to my knees and lifted the bedskirt. Tied around the bed leg was a length of strap, with a spring-loaded hook at the end. I pulled the strap out from under the bed and marveled at you once again. I felt a sudden sense of urgency and grasped roughly at your ankle.
I pulled your leg out until it met the hook, snapped it on, then cinched the strap up tight to pull your leg out even wider. Circling around the bed, I found the matching strap and did the same to your left leg, relishing your gasp as I tugged the strap even tighter. Your legs were spread very wide now, your feet almost as far apart as the king bed was wide. I admired my work a moment, and then set off for the closet.
Quickly I fished out our toy box, pulled open the folded cardboard flaps, and found your rabbit. I held it tightly in my hand and pushed a button, relieved when it pulsed to life that I wouldn't have to go searching for batteries this time. Returning to the bedroom, I snatched a pillow off the bed, and then climbed up and kneeled down between your wide-open thighs.
The lamp in the corner played with the contours of your mons, soft ridges were nearly white in their brightness, before shadow crept in as your soft skin folded down to your lips. Already, without my having touched you at all, the inner lips were a darker pink than the rest of you, and they seemed thicker than normal. At the very top, I could make out just the very tip of your clitoris, a smooth pink orb like a pearl, and it seemed to me as though it was calling my name.
Unable to resist, I dipped my head and exhaled across your lips, then let my tongue trace a long, slow line from the very bottom of your slit, slowly and firmly, until your clit popped out from underneath it and I felt your whole body twitch. I savored both scent and flavor, their telling me that you were enjoying this as much as I, and in fact, probably had been for some time. You seemed to tense in anticipation of the next stroke, but I had other plans.
I brought the rabbit up between my face and your sex, and held it just above your lips for a moment. Then I inserted it into you, your quick intake of air filling the room, pressing firmly but not too fast, until the ears were just below the apex of your labia. Grabbing the pillow, I pulled it up between your legs, then adjusted the angle and depth until the rabbit ears slid beneath your hood, clutching your clitoris between the two silicone probes. I pressed the pillow underneath your thighs, fluffing the middle and pressing it firmly against the toy. It probably wouldn't last, but it wouldn't need to either. A mischievous grin swept over my face.
"I need to take a shower," I said, clicking the toy onto low vibration, "but I didn't want you to be bored." I pressed the button to begin oscillating the pearl-filled cock deep inside you. "I won't be long," clicking both buttons up in intensity, "don't go anywhere!"
As I climbed off the bed and unbuttoned my pants, I watched as your hips moved almost imperceptibly up and down. "Don't move," I announced intently, "if that falls out while I'm gone there will be consequences."
I shuffled out of my jeans and freed myself from my boxers, freshly marked with a moist spot of pre-cum. I watched you as I stepped into the bathroom, and turned on the water in the shower to let it warm up. Quietly, I stepped back into the room, leaned over the bed and pressed the vibration up button one more time. As I heard you mewl, I jogged quickly back to the bathroom, overjoyed at my good fortune.
As I rushed through my shower, the soft scent of soap and steam swirling around me, I thought of what to do next. I finished showering in record time, shut off the water, and as I opened the shower door I heard you begin to gasp and moan. I hurried to the door, nearly slipping on the tile, to catch the last throes of your first orgasm of the evening. As your breathing settled, you intimated in a near whisper, "I think it fell out."
Softly I padded to the bed and looked down at the rabbit. It had indeed slid out, but at least 2" of the shaft were still pressed inside of you. Your face was bent into a sexy pout, and I was overcome by a wave of affection.
"It slipped out. But not all the way," I said sternly. "You're safe. For now."
I reached down and removed the pillow and the rabbit from the bed, my cock straining as I noticed the moist trail of passion that had slipped from your crevice and begun to darken the bedsheets below. Emboldened by your blindfold and safe from judgment, I licked the shaft of the rabbit, lapping up the sweet and tangy evidence of your pleasure.
Setting it aside, I prepared myself for phase two.
-- To Be Continued --
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
An Unexpected Evening, Part 1
"Hi honey, how's you're day going?", she seems fairly chipper.
"I've had better. It looks like we're going to be stuck here pretty late. How about you?".
"Pretty busy here too, not sure if I'll be home before 8. Wanted to let you know, we should probably just grab our own dinners on the way home." .
Perfect, she's going to be home even later, now I seem like a whiner. "Sounds good, I'll grab a burger. See you tonight, don't work too hard."
"I won't if you won't!"
The day wore on as expected. I finally got out around 7:15, fetched a burger and headed for home. I didn't see your car, and figured you might not be back before 8:30. With a beer under the crook of my arm, I grabbed ketchup and a couple of paper towels and headed to the couch. When MythBusters was over, I started to wonder where you were.
I called your cell phone and it went straight to voice mail. I quickly repelled the sudden onslaught of terrible thoughts that crowded my mind by reminding myself that I should really get you a new battery for that phone. I decided I'd go wash up and then, if I really felt it necessary, start calling every police station between here and the county line.
As I opened the door to the bedroom, I noticed the nightstand lamp was still on, and groaned at the expense. Then I groaned at how I've become my father. At first I looked right past you as I turned to the bathroom. On the second, I froze mid-step. My brain having activated the emergency alert system, every synapse in my body braced for the distorted voice soon to follow with life-saving instructions. But this time they were remarkably clear and concise.
"Turn to your left. Immediately."
Wearing the lingerie set I'd bought for you just two weeks before, you were lying on your back on the bed. A rope leading up from the middle of the headboard wrapped around your wrists. Across your eyes, a silk scarf was fashioned into a blindfold. On your neck, a velour choker with a D-loop in the middle. And on your ankles, cuffs to match the choker.
Before I could gather my wits, I heard you purr, "if that's not you, I'm in a whole lot of trouble".
I laughed, hard, my surprise at seeing you on the bed swept away in a river of laughted and tears. I thought of how long I spent on the couch eating my dinner and watching T.V., and all the day's stress drained out, pouring from my back, legs, and feet as I doubled over and struggled not to collapse. When finally I had caught hold of my breath and sobriety, I heard your voice again.
"It sounded like your day kind of sucked. I thought you might like a present." As you spoke, you slowly rubbed your legs together, stretching your toes outward, and then slowly parted your thighs. As I stood transfixed, your legs opened before me, and I could see the smooth, shimmering delight that you had been keeping warm for me for over an hour. The matching crotchless panties quickly became my favorite undergarment in your collection.
"I'm yours," you continued, "for whatever you want, until you are finished." I began to laugh quietly, as flashes appeared in my head of all the things you'd ever declined before, "no, don't say anything," you continued. "Don't tell me. That's what the blindfold's for. Don't question it, I won't do this often. Just, go."
I began to unbutton my shirt.
---To Be Continued---
"I've had better. It looks like we're going to be stuck here pretty late. How about you?".
"Pretty busy here too, not sure if I'll be home before 8. Wanted to let you know, we should probably just grab our own dinners on the way home." .
Perfect, she's going to be home even later, now I seem like a whiner. "Sounds good, I'll grab a burger. See you tonight, don't work too hard."
"I won't if you won't!"
The day wore on as expected. I finally got out around 7:15, fetched a burger and headed for home. I didn't see your car, and figured you might not be back before 8:30. With a beer under the crook of my arm, I grabbed ketchup and a couple of paper towels and headed to the couch. When MythBusters was over, I started to wonder where you were.
I called your cell phone and it went straight to voice mail. I quickly repelled the sudden onslaught of terrible thoughts that crowded my mind by reminding myself that I should really get you a new battery for that phone. I decided I'd go wash up and then, if I really felt it necessary, start calling every police station between here and the county line.
As I opened the door to the bedroom, I noticed the nightstand lamp was still on, and groaned at the expense. Then I groaned at how I've become my father. At first I looked right past you as I turned to the bathroom. On the second, I froze mid-step. My brain having activated the emergency alert system, every synapse in my body braced for the distorted voice soon to follow with life-saving instructions. But this time they were remarkably clear and concise.
"Turn to your left. Immediately."
 Voyeur by Adam Rhoades | I did so with some concern. While there was no panic in the instruction, I saw no reason for anyone to be in our apartment yet. As my head swiveled, my body following slowly, I came to gaze upon you. |
Wearing the lingerie set I'd bought for you just two weeks before, you were lying on your back on the bed. A rope leading up from the middle of the headboard wrapped around your wrists. Across your eyes, a silk scarf was fashioned into a blindfold. On your neck, a velour choker with a D-loop in the middle. And on your ankles, cuffs to match the choker.
Before I could gather my wits, I heard you purr, "if that's not you, I'm in a whole lot of trouble".
I laughed, hard, my surprise at seeing you on the bed swept away in a river of laughted and tears. I thought of how long I spent on the couch eating my dinner and watching T.V., and all the day's stress drained out, pouring from my back, legs, and feet as I doubled over and struggled not to collapse. When finally I had caught hold of my breath and sobriety, I heard your voice again.
"It sounded like your day kind of sucked. I thought you might like a present." As you spoke, you slowly rubbed your legs together, stretching your toes outward, and then slowly parted your thighs. As I stood transfixed, your legs opened before me, and I could see the smooth, shimmering delight that you had been keeping warm for me for over an hour. The matching crotchless panties quickly became my favorite undergarment in your collection.
"I'm yours," you continued, "for whatever you want, until you are finished." I began to laugh quietly, as flashes appeared in my head of all the things you'd ever declined before, "no, don't say anything," you continued. "Don't tell me. That's what the blindfold's for. Don't question it, I won't do this often. Just, go."
I began to unbutton my shirt.
---To Be Continued---
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