Simply Sex

Simply Sex

By Myandra Monroe (naughtywriter2)

She slept soundly beside him.

He watched her silently. 

He eyed her pulse, smelled her skin and heard the steady beat of her heart. 

He gently swept the hair from her neck and kissed it.

He ran his lips along the length of her satiny skin.

His strong hands moved slowly down her voluptuous curves.

She moaned and wrapped eager fingers around his hardness

He exhaled deeply and pulled her closer.

Their eyes met, locked in passion. 

“I want you” She whispered, almost begging.

“I want you more” He answered as he pressed his erection against her body. 

She parted her lips, hungrily seeking his mouth to kiss.

He found hers, their tongues probing in heated want. 

Her thighs parted; a silent invitation.

His hard cock rubbed against her wetness.

He wanted to taste her but her urgency told him it would wait.

He stroked his cock against her pussy, harder and faster

She was so warm and sopping wet.

Her hands clutched his shoulders

“Fuck me now, please.” She pleaded softly.

His hands pressed firmly against the small of her back.

She whimpered and shuddered

He pushed his cock deep inside her with one determined thrust. 

He fucked her harder and harder with each stroke.  

She met each urgent thrust with her own.

Her rounded hips rocked against his narrow pelvis.

He was so fucking hard.

She was so incredibly wet.

His movements turned frenetic, animalistic.

Her response became urgent and concupiscent.

Her fingernails dug into his broad shoulders.

His fingers pressed deep into her supple buttocks.

He felt her vagina flutter and contract against his groin.

Her breathing halted.

His breaths came quicker.

Her clutch tightened against his strong body.

She felt his cock throb, his balls tighten

His groans, virile and intense.

Her vagina clamped around his girth.

His cum filled her to overflowing.

They cried out in unison, depleted of urgency.

Both, simply sated, by sex.   

Max and Miss Ghost

{I wrote this story from a song written and sung by Don Henley. It conjured up a story in my head of a love gone wrong between a long lived vampire couple named Guilianna and Maxwell. In a fit of rage he killed his lover and partner when she refused to let him leave her. He tossed her into a fire and she perished. He spent his time on earth from that moment on mourning her death and regretting his decision to end her life. Max was truly a tortured soul. Guilianna took his mortality from him over a century ago to keep him with her for eternity. The resentment and guilt he felt caused him to revisit her ghost once again.}  

https://open.spotify.com/track/3VTSyQZgz7TTFBv33ZHIJs

Max and Miss Ghost

By Myandra Monroe

It was a cool October morning, just before dawn when Max stumbled through the front door of his stylish loft. He looked at his surroundings through one bloodshot eye. His flat was a very comfortable, tastefully decorated with a defining masculine décor. Filled with antiques, priceless art and things he had collected through the years. Centuries afforded him the ability to live a very good life in a posh high-rise loft in the heart of the city. He felt safe and isolated, the kind of life he had become accustomed to.

A vampire’s life can be very comfortable if he stays under the radar, invests his money wisely and waits for the economy to upswing. He was wise with his money and it had paid off handsomely.

That is the upside of living forever. The downside is, living forever.

Max had changed residences and identities many times in the last one hundred and forty years. The fortune he had acquired allowed him to travel at a moment’s notice if necessary. He had untraceable bank accounts stashed all over the world.  

An immortal man could live in comfort for eternity as long as he didn’t live too extravagantly. Max had nice things, classy but never flashy. Flashy brought attention. That was never a good thing if you’re a vampire trying to live undetected in a mortal world.

The one thing he held onto no matter what, was his name. Maxwell Albert Chatsworth had to change many things in his life but he treasured the name he was born with in London so many decades before. It gave him roots. His history was in his name.   

He staggered over to the antique mirror that hung in the foyer and peered at his own image. All the nonsense written about vampire lore was rubbish. Of course he could be seen in a mirror. Cameras could capture his image too but he avoided them as much as possible. Bram Stoker had done all vampires a favor by putting out those false claims. It gave mortals comfort to think they could separate themselves from the undead. It gave them hope that they could identify and destroy vampires at will before those monsters tore into their throats and drained the life from their mortal bodies. It had to be unnerving to imagine the immortal undead walking freely among the vulnerable living. The hunters roaming freely among their food.   

Vampires don’t require food but they can get drunk and high too, just like Max was at this very moment. They had the added advantage of becoming intoxicated by an imbibed mortal’s blood. They absorbed everything. Emotions, stimulants, depressants, you name it. Whatever a human can take or feel, a vampire can experience it. Tonight it was a bit of all those things. He’d spent the entire evening feeding off Timur’s ladies. A bevy of beauties with daddy issues who sold their bodies as well as their blood to vampires for a lot of money. 

There are many romantic myths about vampires, some of it was the truth and some of it pure hogwash. Vampires do fall in love. God knows Max did, hard. It could be with another vampire or the living mortal. Either way it can be dangerous, usually for the humans whom are often turned or die in the process. Vampires always want to win when they battle for dominance. It’s their feral nature. Power and domination are generally determined by age not gender.

Vampire love can be brutal. In Max’s case it was fatal for the woman who turned him. His beautiful immortal bride, in a fit of rage, he hurled her to her fiery demise. He didn’t want to but she forced his hand. He often wondered if she let him win on purpose. She was nearly two hundred years older than he and more powerful. Guilianna was also miserable at living forever, even more so than Max. She was possessive, suspicious and angry about everything, especially when it came to Max. Her love for him was more of an obsession. It was deadly and destructive. She had always been overly dramatic, bordering on demonic, as long as Max had known her. He was attracted to her from the instant he looked into her dark eyes.  

Max looked closely at his image. His face had not aged a single day in one hundred and forty-one years. He was still that handsome, charming Englishman from Victorian times. Still a healthy, thriving thirty-five year old ladies’ man in the mirror. Inside his heart, he was older than time.

He met his fate of immortality at the hands of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on shortly after his thirty-fifth birthday. She was bewitching, bewildering and more addictive than anything he’d ever encountered in his short mortal life. Had he known his fate, he probably still would have allowed her to take it away from him. He would have given her everything, anything her cold dead heart wanted. All it took was one soul crushing encounter.

All these years and all the women he had known since, not one could ever compare to the breathtaking Guilianna DiGrazzi. She was the daughter of an Italian Count. The sultry seductress had captured his soul with one glance of those wickedly beautiful brown eyes. He surrendered to her and she took his life. She sunk her fangs into his throat one fateful night and he gave up his mortality while he whispered her name.

A gripping sadness overcame him as he turned his face away from the mirror. When he looked at his image, he saw her. He always saw her. The woman he loved more than anything was dead at his own hands. She drove him to madness.

He’d always assumed it would be she that would end his undead reign. He often hoped she would, but she refused to let go. Guilianna denied him his freedom, so he took hers. At the time it seemed to be the only way to bring some peace to both of their tortured souls.  

Max looked toward the copper tiled ceiling as the ghosts began to do their haunted dance around his head. They always seemed to show up whenever he thought about his Guilianna.

Max tried to rub the swirling banshees from his eyes. Why did Timur allow his lovely whores to continually stay hopped up on cocaine and Qualudes. He could hear Timur’s thick Russian accent in his head. “It’s the eighties Max! All the beautiful people are doing it.” Timur was his oldest friend, and by oldest he meant both figuratively and literally. The mad Russian, Timur Bogrov, was nearly a thousand years old. He was a mere boy when he was turned many centuries ago at the age of twenty-six. He looked and talked like a twenty something surfer dude and even more so, he acted like one. Timur was perpetual punk who preferred to be called “Tim”. “Ah dude! The ‘ludes make you feel laid back and the coke keeps you awake to enjoy the high.”

All Max knew was, the Quaaludes made him do stupid things and the cocaine made him aware that he was doing them. It didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t and wouldn’t stay away from them; any will power he ever possessed was gone.  

Cocaine made him horny as hell. He could fuck all night long on an eight-ball of coke and never get off. Yes, vampires can fuck, very well and very often if they want to. It was agony going around with a stiff cock and no way to relieve it. The solution required more coke so he take more and try to remedy the problem. He could go through a stable of hookers and they were willing to endure his high, his hard-on and his stamina as long as he continued to throw buckets of money at them.

Timur had plenty of girls willing to do the deed. Max always got the prettiest ones with the tastiest blood. He indulged them with plenty of drugs and alcohol. It was a convenient way for Max to get high. He simply injected his fangs into their veins and drank their drug and alcohol riddled blood. He liked it that way. He liked it very much. It was always agony when the time came for him to go home.

Going home meant being alone - with his ghosts, his dark thoughts and his self loathing. He hated what he had allowed himself to become. He always blamed Guilianna for turning him into a vampire but when he was alone, he knew the painful truth. It was Max himself, who brought the demons to life.

It had been his choice to take the dark path and drag the monster out from under the bed. He couldn’t bear to walk near the light. Not because he was repelled by it but because it was too painful to face what a train wreck he had made of his miserable existence. His life today was laid out before him like a carefully selected set of funeral clothes.

“Max, do you like your hell? It’s mighty lonely down here isn’t it?” His head snapped, searching frantically for the distant voice speaking directly to him.

“Oh fuck, the voices!” He clutched his temples and whispered under his breath. This was why he stayed out all night and stumbled in towards dawn every single day. It was the only way to cope with these wretched demons before he lapsed into a dead sleep inside his coffin. He couldn’t take the voices anymore. They taunted him and reminded him of what a fucking mess he’d made of his life.

The voices were killing him. His lifestyle was killing him. His overriding guilt was killing him… but he couldn’t die. Not unless he cut off his own head or threw himself into a fire. He didn’t have the nerve to do that. So he worked on slowly killing his memories, hoping eventually there would be nothing left to kill.

People might say - if there were such a thing as vampires, they don’t have souls - but they would be wrong. Another myth for the storybooks. Max had a soul and it was eating him alive. His soul was the only thing left of him that was human. He’d tried to drink and drug it away for many, many years with no luck. It wouldn’t leave his body.

The pain it caused hurt worse with every passing decade. Immortality was supposed to be easier to deal with as time went by but not for Max. It seemed worse. Memories of his mortal life haunted him. The people he loved and lost. The complications with being immortal took stamina and skill. The jobs and homes he left behind to protect his identity couldn't compare to the pain in his undead heart. 

He squeezed his head hard between his hands, trying to still the voices. It only proved to make them louder. The constant chatter of ghosts he could never completely leave behind. Suddenly a voice he hadn’t heard in a very long time. She called out to him. He remained perfectly still, listening, yearning for the sound. Soft moans of a woman, perhaps in the midst of making love or possibly pleasuring herself?

Max knew those moans. He used to live to hear those moans! He rushed to the bottom of the staircase and looked to the top of the steps. A golden sliver of light shined from under his bedroom door. It couldn’t be possible but it he heard the distinctly feminine moans clear as a bell. They became louder and grew with intensity. She was almost there, to that point. He could taste her sweet nectar on his tongue. She was beginning to cum and he wanted to be there to hold her, to be with her when she reached her climax.

Max cried out. “Wait for me Guilianna! Don’t go there without me!” He took the stairs three at a time until he was standing next to door. He rushed through the portal in desperation. There she lay in all her dark splendor, his beloved Guilianna.

She was stretched across his bed, dressed in a red satin gown. Her raven hair cascaded across the white pillowcase in all its blue-black glory. Slender pale arms draped gracefully above her head. She smiled at him, her dark eyes sparkling. The familiar sound, lilting and sweet. “Hello, Max. I’ve been waiting for you all night. What took you so long? I thought you were never coming home.”

Max stumbled to the bed and fell next to the mattress at her feet. “I didn’t think you’d be here Guilianna! I would’ve been home sooner if I’d only known but… I didn’t know. I couldn’t know.” His voice was trembling, almost to point of blubbering. “My love, my darling wife, I can’t believe you came back.”

Guilianna smiled sweetly, her dark red lips parting wide to flash perfect white teeth. Her voice, smooth and honeyed. “Oh darling, you know I’d never leave you behind. I will always come back when you need me the most. After all these years you should know that. We will always be together, even though we’re apart.”

She stretched her long lean frame and pointed her red painted toenails downward as she spread her palms out like fans. She ran her supple fingers slowly up the length of her body, slightly pulling on the red satin gown to show more of her long shapely legs.

Max was dumbstruck by the absolute beauty of this woman. Years upon years and she still took his breath away. He gazed at her exactly like he did the first time saw her in that Paris ballroom in 1873. It was one of worship and wonderment. He lay at her feet this night, looking at her the very same way he did back then.  

“I could hear you darling. The sweet sounds you made when I was making love to you.” His fingertips moved slowly down the side of her smooth calf. His blue eyes fixed on her brown velvet ones.

Guilianna’s laugh was wicked. Her laugh had always been devilishly wicked. “Oh my dear sweet tortured love, you’re hearing things again aren’t you?” She stroked the side of his handsome face. It’s happening more often isn’t it?” She shook her head sadly. “No darling, I’ve been quietly waiting up here for you to return safely home to me. My moans are for your delight only. You know that… don’t you, my love?”

“I’ve been hearing the voices again but this time it was different. I could hear you, all the way from the foyer but I wasn’t sure it was real. None of the others seem to be, are they?” He reached for her fingertips with the tips of his but she slipped them away from his grasp.

“Oh Max, you can be so amusing when you’re intoxicated.” She turned on her side, resting her head on the crook of her arm. She looked down on him and sighed. “You have such a sad distant look in your eyes when you drink.” She narrowed her eyes and peered deeper into his. “I can see inside of your tortured soul Maxwell. The soft center of you is showing and it makes you very vulnerable to the outside world, my love.” She leaned closer, whispering. “You really have to stop punishing yourself Max. You know, the only one you hurt in the end is yourself, don’t you?”

Max's eyes filled with tears. “How do I stop doing that? I can’t seem to forgive myself for all I’ve done wrong. I could say it was your fault but we both know that I blame you for all of my weaknesses. It’s easier to do that.” He pleaded to her through misty tired eyes. “Can you forgive me for being so childish? I’m always so unwilling to take responsibility for my own mistakes.”

She swept her hand across the top of his head and lightly toyed with the tousled locks of hair that fell softly on his forehead. “I don’t need to forgive you Maxwell. I’ve never needed to forgive you. You need to forgive yourself.”

Max rose to his feet and walked to the window. He leaned on the sill and peered out into the darkness of this haunted night. The rain poured down as lightening flashed violently, temporarily lighting up the sky in the dreary darkness. Droplets of rain trickled down the windowpane in sad jagged lines as the tears traced down Max’s cheeks. He wiped them away with his sleeve and turned back to look at his dead wife.

She silently watched Max collect himself. He dropped onto his knees in the center of the floor. “Why didn’t you ask me Guilianna? Why did you take it for granted that I would want this curse? I loved you so much! I would have crossed an ocean to be near you but you didn’t give me the chance to make the decision on my own. You robbed me of being able to choose my fate!”

She didn’t respond but kept studying his face intently. An eerie glow illuminated around her as lightening flashed and thunder rumbled and crashed through the quiet room.

Guilianna’s eyes appeared to tear up but Max was sure he must be imagining it. Lately he seemed to have trouble deciphering real life from fantasy. In all their years together, he could never remember seeing her cry. She would wail when she didn’t get her way but he couldn’t recall one instance where she actually shed real tears.

Max crawled across the floor to be near her once more. He sat on the bed and stroked her face. His thoughts wandered to the life she had experienced when she was first turned many years before he met her. It helped to him understand her better, perhaps to be more sympathetic of her wicked ways. She could be so hard, so cruel and distant. He felt strangely closer to her when he could feel her emotional pain. As a young woman, she had been kidnapped by French pirates, passed around, used and abused before she was turned.

He understood her past was the reason she was who she was but it didn’t make it easier for him to accept her selfish, demanding ways when it came to him. He never mistreated her. He worshipped her. He pampered and spoiled her. There was no other love like the love he felt for her, but it was never enough. She was never satisfied.

She turned him one night while he slept beside her. She never regarded what he may have wanted. She never discussed it with him, just drained him in his sleep and turned him into a monster he was today.

Guilianna always got what she wanted and nothing ever stopped her. He often doubted that she was even capable of love. Perhaps the damage was too severe for her to harbor strong emotion for anyone or anything, even him. Indifference was indeed the saddest emotion of all.  

Guilianna looked into her intoxicated husband’s eyes. “Max, I was wrong. It was a regretful decision for me to make. I admit to it. In my defense, I was so afraid of losing you. I took it upon myself to give you an eternity with me. I couldn’t take the chance that you might leave me or worse stay only to die as an old man in my arms. I did the only thing I could think to do. I was desperate to keep you with me.” Her brow creased. “You may think my motives were selfish but they really weren’t. Careless, impudent perhaps… but not selfish.” 

She leaned closer. Her raven hair tumbled over her pale shoulders. She sighed deeply. “My deepest regret was that I never could convince you of how much I loved you. My only motive was love.” Her voice softened as she lightly caressed his arm. “I have always loved you Max, always have… and I always will.”

“Oh Guilianna!” Max pulled her close and buried his face in her silky dark hair. “I didn’t want to do it! I begged you to back away. I begged you to let me go on my own. I tried to warn you so many times! Why didn’t you listen? Things could have been so different if you’d only listened to me! I probably would have returned to you.” He choked back his pathetic sobs. “I wouldn’t have done what I did. The belittling remarks were the last straw. If it weren’t for you mocking me, pushing me to the edge, it would all be different now.”

Guilianna pulled away from Max and peered deeply into his very soul. Her dark stare was soft, almost doe like as she spoke in a hushed tone. “Max, you did what you had to do and I did what I had to do. No regrets. You simply won the battle." She smiled softly. "It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part. I know I could be difficult at times, most times.” She smiled. “It was bound to happen… to one of us. Your will was simply stronger than mine.” She paused for a moment and looked down. “If it were meant to be, I would have had my way and we would be together right now. I knew what I was up against and maybe I wanted to see if you could overpower me. You did, my love.” There was a smugness in her tone. “I sired my vampire well, didn’t I? The master was mastered. You were my finest achievement Max.”

Max could feel himself turning as the scotch and the drugs began to lose their hold on him. He smelled that familiar feral scent he got before they had sex but something was wrong. He closed his eyes as he sniffed at her flawless alabaster skin. He couldn’t determine what was different.

Max nipped her lightly with his newly sprouted fangs. His groin tightened with arousal. His desire was still as strong as ever for his raven haired beauty, even after so many years.

Guilianna rolled her head back to allow him access to her long slender throat. A moan of pleasure escaped from her dark red lips and her long eyelashes fluttered lightly over ebony eyes. His fangs nipped at her flesh harder as droplets of blood trickled softly down her neck. He eagerly licked them and nipped for more.

Whispering her name over and over, he pressed closer to her supple body. His fangs sank deeply into her firm flesh. He drank the sanguine nectar and allowed its essence to flow over his tongue. His erection twitched to be inside of her once more. Her beauty was intoxicating, her blood even more so. He stopped to savor the taste. Guilianna you taste mortal! You smell mortal! How can that be?

There was a melodic tone in her voice. “Wishful thinking on your part my darling, always your wishful thinking.”

He gently laid Guilianna back and lifted the red satin dress over her head until she was naked for him. Max exhaled slowly as he caressed her lovely form. His index finger circled around the brown nipples until they stood high on top her perfect round breasts. Her pale skin felt like cool satin as the lightening illuminated every angle and curve.

“Do you want me Max?” She seemed to glow in the shadows of the night. He didn’t speak but his eyes said everything he was unable to say. He hurriedly removed his clothes and moved closer to hold her one more time. He kissed her hard, his tongue dancing inside her luscious mouth. She tasted like fine wine.  

He felt himself being drawn into her like a vortex. The kind of trap that only the beguiling Guilianna could pull him into. He couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. She held him captive once again. He needed her, he wanted her, she was as vital to him as the human blood he craved to exist.

He hadn’t taken her life after all! Finally, he could rid himself of this terrible self loathing guilt. He was going to fuck her hard, show her how much he loved her. No arguments, no resentment, just absolute love, adoration and raw animalistic fucking was all he wanted. She watched him silently with a distant, cool stare.

As he thrust his cock inside her, Guilianna’s once vibrant eyes looked sad and tired. The fiery glow surrounding her seemed to dim. Her voice sounded faint. “Do you love me Max?” Her form seemed to be fading away. He desperately grasped at her to keep her there with him. Guilianna seemed to slip further away with every attempt he made to hold onto her.

“Guilianna!” His voice echoed as he called out to her. He tried to cling to her. “I can’t reach you! I can’t feel you! Why can’t I touch you?”

Guilianna’s voice sounded a thousand miles away. “Maxwell, I’ll never let you slip away.” He watched in horror as she disappeared into the wrinkled folds of white cotton sheets. A trace of red satin from her gown was left behind. Max could feel the dampness from his tears on the pillow. Faded drops of blood were left behind instead of red satin. Max’s was covered with blood from his fangs being plunged into his own arm.  

He sat up as the sun peeked through the curtains. Max hugged the pillow tighter and screamed into it. Last night’s excesses seemed to catch up with him once again as he buried his face deeper into the pillow. He curled up in a fetal position and wept silently. Vampires do feel pain. The ghosts disappeared with the light of day but Max knew they would return again.

He wiped his eyes on the pillowcase and crawled out of the blood stained bed to make his way to his coffin.

Another night, another painful visit from Miss Ghost.

The End

Miss Ghost

Written by Don Henley, Stan Lynch, Jai Winding

On a misbegotten, moonless night

I stumbled in my door

Disgusted with my circumstance

Soaked to every pore

When floating from my bedroom

Came a moaning and a sigh

oh, I’ve had one too many

It’s just the wind, says I

I lit up a cigarette

And I poured a good, stiff drink

You see, I needed to compose myself

I needed time to think

No sooner had I settled down

The moaning came again

Drifting through the silence

Like some otherworldly violin

I bounded up the staircase

I went slippin and slidin down the hall

You know, I’ve been around the whole, wide world

But I was not prepared at all

Uninvited visitor, unsuspecting host

well, I see you’ve made yourself at home.

Good evening, miss ghost.

You’re more beautiful than ever

I feel just like a kid

And I commence to trembling

When I think of all the things we did

Skin as pale as marble; lips as red as blood

Imagine my surprise, my dear

I thought that you were gone for good

You look so lovely lying there

All stretched out on your back

But I’m the one who’s strung up here

On old temptations rusty rack

And in the wee small hours

Is when I miss you the most

And I confess it, I have missed you

Miss ghost

I threw open the window

And I howled at the rain

And I cursed the weakness of the flesh

This breath and bone and this brute, reptilian brain

What dirty tricks the mind can play

In the lonely dead of night

When you bump into the shadow

Of a faded love that wasn’t right

Way down beneath the surface

Far beyond the light of day

So many things lie buried deep

And baby, they should stay that way

Oh, my wicked, little habit

We’ve really made a mess

Everything’s been trivialized

In our vain pursuit of happiness

And even though you’ve come for me

I won’t go back with you

To some temporary heaven

Down some empty, dead-end avenue

But it’s been so good to have you here

And I propose a toast

here’s to seeing through you

Miss ghost.

Boss Lady

Boss Lady

By Myandra Monroe

I approached the front door of their home, still apprehensive about coming here to meet her husband. I’d casually mentioned that my wife and I were having marital problems and I wasn’t quite sure what to do about the situation. I love my wife but lately our sex life has been practically non-existent. She had made hints that she wanted something more but whatever I suggested, like sex in different rooms, places or different positions just wasn’t doing it. She found ways to avoid the subject and often any physical contact. We tried counseling but both of us found it ineffective and unhelpful. The problem was becoming serious, almost to the point of considering a separation.  

My female boss, who is about ten or fifteen years older than me, somehow sensed my discontentment so one afternoon, I found myself sitting in her office spilling my guts about my lackluster love life. Pretty pathetic, I know, but I did it.

Mrs. Hunt is the head of personnel and has a reputation for being a real ball buster. She wields a lot of power in the company so most of the men in our department tread lightly around her because they’re scared of losing their jobs. She always seemed to like me, so I was never intimidated by her but I certainly never wanted to get on her bad side either. I’m convinced she could be lethal if she needed to be. 

After our awkward heart to heart, she suggested that I come over to her house and meet her husband and perhaps between the two of them, they might come up with solution to take the boredom out of the bedroom and save our marriage. I reluctantly agreed, especially after she got on the speaker phone right away with her husband and the three of us chatted candidly from Mrs. Hunt’s private office. He assured me that it would be worth my while to come over because he and Mrs. Hunt (he referred to her as Maggie) had solved their similar marital woes through some unique therapy that I might find helpful. I found myself with an offer that I could hardly refuse. After all, she was my boss and she could be very persistent.

I hurried through dinner and told my wife I had a business meeting, which was partly the truth. She told me her girlfriends were coming over and they were planning a baby shower for a mutual friend. It made my meeting a little less stressful just so I could get away from her annoying chatty friends.

So, here I stand looking at the doorbell, trying to get enough courage to ring it. Almost in a trance I find my finger pressing on the button. It’s a soft bell tone. I listen but I don’t hear any movement from behind the door. Perhaps they had second thoughts, I hoped. Maybe there was a family emergency, I prayed. They were just playing a game with me, I’d go for that… then the door opened. My heart was pounding in my ears as Mr. Hunt stood in front of me. He was dressed in a somewhat rumpled white dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up and dark suit pants. I assumed he had just arrived home from work recently.

I realized that I had met him before. He had accompanied Mrs. Hunt, to a company Christmas dinner last year. I held out my hand to shake his. “Mr. Hunt, I’m Ryan Carson. Um… we spoke on the phone this afternoon.”

He chuckled. “Of course! I may be getting old but I can still remember what I had for lunch today. Come on in.”

I was already fucking up. “Oh no, Mr. Hunt, I didn’t mean to imply that… I only meant…”

He shook my hand vigorously and grinned. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Maggie has spoken very highly of you.” He clapped a large hand on my shoulder. “Please, call me Jim. Maggie and I have been looking forward to this.”

We walked into the entryway. Their home was very nice. Sort of Ernest Hemingway style with dark woods, rich leathers and interesting home décor, like they had done a lot of traveling to exotic locations. The lighting was low and classical music was playing softly over the speaker system.

He ushered me into their living room and I stopped dead in my tracks. Before I could utter a word Jim was already explaining. “You see Ryan, as you probably already know, Maggie is a very strong willed woman with a high powered job that requires her to make some tough decisions. All that power can be quite stressful and overwhelming. Sometimes she needs to let someone else make all her decisions and allow her to be who she craves to be, behind closed doors.”

I was speechless. Mrs. Hunt aka/Maggie was standing completely naked with her back to me facing the living room wall. She wore high heels, leather ankle cuffs and a huge butt plug stuffed in her amazing looking ass. This was the same woman who ran a multi-million dollar company making men tremble in their wingtips, standing there like a helpless sex doll in front of my very eyes.

Jim was still speaking but I was having a difficult time concentrating on what he had to say. “I hope you’ll forgive Maggie for not acknowledging your presence but she is being punished at the moment and she’s not allowed to speak until I tell her to.” I think my jaw was still slack on my chest. “In the meantime, can I get you a beer?” I nodded like an idiot.

He offered me a seat on the couch so I could see her from the side. Maggie had a spectacular body. She had a nice full bottom, round and supple. It was obvious that she had been recently spanked. I could see bright pink handprints on her fair skin all across the span of that big gorgeous ass. The butt plug she was sporting was huge. It had to hurt to have that monster stuffed up her asshole. Her tits were much larger than I had imagined them to be and yes, I had more than once pictured her naked. She had lovely long legs which I’d always admired and the heels she was wearing were much higher than what she wore in the office. She was nearly teetering over because of the height of her heels. They had to be at least six inches high. I could see from this angle that she had on nipple clamps with fishing lure weights dangling from them and her leather wrist cuffs were attached to a leather training collar around her neck. Her hands were clasped together in a praying fashion, closely under her chin. A metal chain leash hung down between those gorgeous tits and dangled almost to her knees. She looked straight ahead, never once did her eyes waver towards where I was sitting and her normally shoulder length brown hair was pulled up into a tight, sleek ponytail high on top of her head.

My dick was getting hard sitting there staring at her until I heard Jim’s voice. He placed the ice cold beer in my sweaty palm. “Here you go son.” I wished he hadn’t called me that but he probably was almost old enough to be my dad. He was at least ten years older than my boss. I guessed Mrs. Hunt to be in her late thirties or early forties so he had to be close to fifty, old enough to be my dad.

My voice squeaked as I thanked him. I tipped the beer back and swallowed a huge gulp, trying to get the lump out of my throat. Jim could sense my uneasiness as he sat in a leather chair situated between Maggie and me. I could barely take my eyes off her but I was able to pay attention to what Jim was saying.

It’s very difficult to listen to your boss’s husband while watching your boss being treated like a sex toy, but somehow I managed. Mrs. Hunt always said I was a good multi-tasker and by god I was doing it right now.

“Maggie and I have practiced this kind of sexual dominance for quite some time now. She spends most of her days ordering people around, being responsible for a lot of things, so to balance it out, the majority of time while she’s bossing you boys around, she has a butt plug stuffed up her ass and bears the marks of my belt on her sore bare bottom to remind her that when she comes home, she’s my whore. He leaned over and slapped my knee, hard, real hard. “Maggie and I trust that this little secret never gets out. We can count on you for that can’t we Ryan?”

I stammered and turned to look at Maggie still standing perfectly still against that wall. “Um… yes sir. Our secret. I promise, I would never say a word.”

“That’s good to hear.” He smiled and leaned back to stare at Maggie too. “No need to call me sir, she’s the only one that is required to do that. Aren’t you Maggie? You can answer me now.”

She finally spoke for the first time since I arrived. Her voice was soft and subtle. “Yes sir.” Was all she said. I was completely mesmerized by her submissiveness towards him. It was something I never would have dreamed she could be.  

His voice lowered a notch and he boomed. “Get your ass over here Maggie, pronto.” She scurried over to him in her sky high heels with her hands helplessly attached to her slave collar. Jim spread his legs apart, pulled on her leash and pointed to his crotch. “Get down on your knees.”

Maggie immediately dropped to her knees and looked up at Jim with big soulful eyes. She had done her makeup completely different than what I was used to seeing. Her eyes were catlike and her lipstick was dark red. The sleek ponytail gave her a very exotic look. She looked like a Persian concubine from a harem. Jim grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head back quickly. He roughly kissed her mouth. Almost driving her teeth into her bright red, full lips. He kissed her hard and long, to the point it was getting difficult to watch them any longer. I took this opportunity to take another gulp of beer to quench the dry tight feeling in my throat. I forgot momentarily about my hard on.

Finally when he finished, he growled. “Suck my cock, bitch.” She instantly went to work with those trapped hands and somehow managed to expertly unzip his slacks and pull out his enormous cock and balls. No wonder she was his slave. This guy was hung like a fucking horse. I felt like I was toting around a Vienna sausage in my slacks and I never in my life, ever thought I had a small dick before. It was like he was some kind of mutant.

I sat in stunned silence as this somewhat petite woman managed to caress, suck, lick and swallow the entire length of that humungous schlong of his down her delicate little throat while having her hands attached to her collar. I felt like a kid looking through a candy store window. Wishing it was me she was working her magic on. Maggie aka/my boss could suck dick like a fucking maniac. Jim had leaned back on his elbows and smiled contently as she sucked his cock, licked and sucked his balls, then pulled his slacks down and buried her face into his taint and ass like she was eating pie at the county fair. I could hardly believe what I was watching. What I wouldn’t give to have that woman suck my cock. Jim obviously could read my mind. It may have been because my tongue was hanging out of my mouth and I had absentmindedly grasped my erection through my slacks, leaving a wet spot on the front of them. “Don’t worry son, you’ll get your chance but not right now.” We have other things that need to be done first.

As quickly as he had told her to start, he was now telling her to stop. “Maggie, get up and lay back on the ottoman.” She obediently pushed herself up from her kneeling position by her elbows and walked over to a large round leather ottoman and lay on her back. I watched in fascination as he manipulated her body like she was made of silly putty. He drew up each long leg and attached the ankle cuffs to special rings built onto the side of the ottoman. Her pussy was wide open now, sleek and incredibly wet. She was literally dripping down the insides of her thighs and well stuffed ass. He pulled her hips to the edge of the ottoman until her ass was hanging over the side. He unhooked her hands from her collar and attached them to more rings on the opposite end. The ottoman was so large that her arms were outstretched way above her head. It made her tits stand out but the weights pulled on her nipples that had been extended to a almost an inch long from the force of the clamps. The weights pulled her tits apart and they dangled by her sides just beneath her armpits. It looked painful but so goddamn erotic. I could barely breathe as a Beethoven symphony played sensuously in the background.

Jim standing there, pantless but still in his white dress shirt with the rolled up sleeves turned to me and explained. “Maggie is allowed and encouraged to express her pain by crying, moaning or screaming if need be. I enjoy hearing it but if it makes you uncomfortable I can put a ball gag in her mouth, if you’d prefer?”

I felt like an idiot but a fucking perverted idiot as I answered nonchalantly. “No, by all means let her make as much noise as she wants.” Like I was some sort of assistant director.

Jim pulled out a small riding crop instrument that had a leather flap about the size of a credit card on the end of it. He leaned over Maggie and kissed her again and without saying another word, began to slap the leather flap across Maggie’s waxed pussy lips. She squeaked at first then her squeaks and squeals soon turned into writhing, retching howls of pain mixed with pleasure as her labia turned from a soft peachy tone into a bright flaming dark pink and her clitoris became engorged and erect as he whipped her beautiful cunt over and over again. I had never seen anything quite like it, not even in a porn. I was often tempted to hand spank my wife’s pussy but never carried through with my plan for fear that she’d accuse me of being some kind of sick fuck. Maggie had tears streaming down the sides of her face as she sobbed, then he abruptly stopped.

He dropped to his knees in front of her sore red pussy and began to lick and rub it with great tenderness and care. Her clit had grown twice its size and was standing out from its protective hood, as he lapped up all her juices that flowed profusely from her weeping vagina. He licked her until she orgasmed with a thundering growl, ending with a soft mournful whimper. She tried desperately to cradle his head with her thighs but they were too far apart for her to do so. He pulled a bottle of lotion out from someplace. I never noticed it before but that’s quite understandable since this was like watching a ten ring circus going on in front of my hungry eyes. He rubbed her convulsing, contracting vulva with the cool lotion and she mewed like a newborn kitten as he did it. I have never seen two people so in love at that moment. It was magical. I felt like an intruder but they weren’t even aware of my presence whatsoever at that moment.

Finally, he leaned over and his whole demeanor changed again. He barked at her. “You have been a very, very bad girl all day today, haven’t you?”

She whimpered in a small voice. “Yes sir, I have.”

“So you know what that means don’t you?” He snarled.

“Yes sir. I need to be spanked, because bad girls should be spanked hard.”

He nodded in agreement “And what else do bad girls get?”

In a voice so small I could barely hear her, she answered like a frightened child. “They get fucked up the ass, sir.”

With that he unfastened her ankles and wrists and roughly yanked her by her arms until she was standing upright again, teetering on those sexy black patent stilettos.

He briskly marched her over to a two tiered sort of futon type chair and made her kneel over it with her knees apart. It also had rings on it. I glanced around to see how much furniture in this room was equipped for bondage. More than I thought. Dinner parties must be quite entertaining around this place. I had a feeling she was going to really be noisy this time. He attached her ankle cuffs to the bottom set of rings and then attached her wrists behind her back with her head resting on the upper tier of the cushioned futon. Her tits dangled down precariously, the weights pulling on them and making them sway every time she moved. Her regal ass was sticking up and out with her legs wide apart so we could both look at her pretty spanked pussy. She was already wet again, even after the thorough licking he gave her.

He retrieved his belt from his slacks and doubled it in half as he announced in a booming voice. “I’m leaving your butt plug in for this part of the whipping because you’ve been such a nasty, disobedient girl.”

This part? How many stages of a whipping were we going to have here? I wondered to myself, thinking my poor cock couldn’t take much more. I was just about ready to pull it out of my pants and start pounding my pud. I didn’t care that it looked like a junior version of his gigantic anaconda, my balls were turning blue.

She whimpered in a sob. “Yes sir, I understand sir.”

Without further warning, he swung the belt hard and fast. The cracking sound was punctuated by Maggie’s shriek as her poor bottom received the first painful whack. I even grimaced from the sound. Quickly came two more until about ten or twelve violent swings of that thick black leather belt made contact with her tender ass. She went from wailing, to screaming, to sobbing uncontrollably as he finally finished beating her poor red hot, welted, bruised bottom.

Again, he turned into the soothing, sympathetic caretaker as he rubbed lotion all over her big, round, beautiful butt. The angriness of the welts seemed to subside as he rubbed and kissed her bottom until she was cooing with contentment.

He roughly pulled her head back by her ponytail and kissed her full on her sensuous mouth with so much passion I almost forgot that he’d just whipped her into convulsing sobs. As quickly as he turned into caretaker, he was back to being the disciplinarian. He stated in a flat, cold tone. “Now it’s time for the paddle.”

She shrieked like she wasn’t expecting it but I was beginning to see the pattern of their little playtime. She knew damn well he was going to paddle her ass and she was looking forward to it. The entire scenario was mind boggling, how they could go in and out of being a loving, caring couple to sadistic, masochistic lovers in a matter of a split second. It was all beginning to make sense to me.  

He walked over and pulled a large wooden paddle from a drawer in the table beside them. It looked like a huge ping pong paddle. He stroked her ass with it several times like he was marking his spot before he began the paddling. Then suddenly with one quick motion, he jerked that huge butt plug out of her asshole. She gasped loudly and cried out. I could almost hear her tight little asshole slam shut again. He waited for her to stop tensing from the sudden pain of having it removed. Like he wanted her to enjoy one pain before allowing her to experience another one.  

Without further fanfare he slapped that paddle flat against her already abused ass as her cheeks vibrated and bounced to the blow. I was hooked on watching the jiggle of her plump ass as he paddled her all over the entire span of it. He paddled the backs of her thighs and she danced around as much as she was able to move. I watched on in total wonderment as her tits swung violently from the attached weights as this happy, slappy BDSM couple did this sexy little rumba dance of smacking, jiggling and crying to perfection.

I suspected that the paddle didn’t hurt as much as the belt but the noise it made was horrific. Loud and reverberating with her shrill cries punching through the echoes of sound it caused when it connected with her pliable flesh. I felt like I was in some kind of dream world straight out of a Caligula orgy. I never in my wildest dreams had ever experienced anything like it before and it would forever alter my mindset toward dominant sex as long as I lived.

Jim had stopped pounding her ass and was rubbing more lotion on her again. This time he moved in closer. She was positioned at the exact height of his giant cock which was standing straight up against his flat belly. He took a handful of lotion and used two fingers to shove inside her ass. She squealed with delight as he twisted his fingers around lubricating the entire rim of her asshole to prepare it for that monster cock of his. My jaw dropped as I watched him insert just the tip of that angry bugger. Her ass opened just wide enough to allow him in and she winced and squirmed a little when he pushed too hard, too fast. He slowed down and backed out just a bit then grabbed her by her hips and drilled that big dick deep inside her ass like he was drilling for oil. She groaned with pleasure as he began to fuck her balls deep. His huge purple balls slapping on her now fully recovered spanked pussy. The slapping noise was deafening as he soundly fucked his beautiful wife’s sexy ass, using her ponytail like a set of reins. He fucked her long and hard, like a boss. Like her boss, which he definitely was.

Suddenly with a fierce roar, he emptied his load inside her sated asshole. When he pulled out he stepped far enough away for me to watch this big glob of creamy white jizz flow out of her gaping asshole like lava. She was moaning as cum dripped down onto her pussy and her asshole slowly began to pucker up. He rubbed his cum into her vulva and labia then scooped up a big glob of it and shoved his fingers into her waiting mouth. She hungrily sucked on his fingers and smacked her lips to taste more. Maggie was already purring like a cat in heat.

Jim unhooked her leather cuffs and released her from the confines of the futon. He ordered her to stand in front of him as he released each nipple clamp. She sucked in her breath as all the blood flow came back to her sore, still rock hard nipples. He turned to me then back to Maggie, lifted her chin, looked deeply into those catlike exotic eyes and asked. “So, do you want to suck his cock now, my love?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically and asked in a sugary sweet voice. “Oh yes sir! May I sir?”

Jim chuckled. “Go ahead. You suck him off and I’ll eat your pussy while you’re having fun.”

I was on auto pilot by then. She pushed me back on the long couch and I don’t even remember how my pants got off. All I know was I received the best goddamn blow job I had ever had in my entire life and all the while she was on her knees, sucking, licking and fingering my cock, balls and ass, her husband was right behind her licking her pussy and ass clean of all that cum he had deposited in her. He finished by fucking her happy little pussy with his gigantic dick while she happily slurped away on my forever grateful cock.

I don’t think I ever came so long and so hard as much as I did that night. She literally sucked the sense out of me. The only thing I knew was that I was going home to fuck my wife until she couldn’t be fucked anymore. Then I was going to turn her over my knee and spank her snotty little stuck up ass until it was bright red and burning. Somehow, I knew she was going to love it and there would be no more boring sex in our home ever again. She was going to be my sweet little whore in the bedroom from now on.

Things went back to normal between Mrs. Hunt and myself after that night. It was never mentioned again between us. I wondered every day how many marks she had on that luscious naked ass of hers and how big of a butt plug she was wearing under her conservative suit skirt.

She did manage a smile when the UPS man dropped off a package for me that she had to sign for while I was out to lunch. She recognized the company name on the plain brown wrapper. It was a wooden paddle I had made especially for my submissive little whore who was at this very moment waiting for me, kneeling naked at the front door, with a butt plug shoved up her fine little ass just waiting for me to paddle her tonight.

The End

      

  

Heaven In An Elevator

Heaven In An Elevator

Eric jumped into his BMW and guided it from his parking garage onto the streets of Santa Monica, heading for Ellie’s apartment in Culver City. He checked his watch and if everything went as planned they’d be on time for their meeting with his best friend and most important client, Mark Hanson.

Mark and Eric had met years earlier when he was a young detective for LAPD. Eric had investigated an armed robbery that took place at one of Mark’s investment firms. He quickly figured out that the robbery was an inside job and solved the case in record time. Mark was impressed by how thorough and professional he had been with the investigation. They became fast friends and it was Mark who encouraged Eric to start his own private investigation firm. He offered to pay him a sizable retainer if he went into the P.I. business. Mark also promised to throw a lot of other work Eric’s way. He kept his promise and Eric’s new career took off quickly. Eric quit the LAPD and hung his shingle that very same year. Eric O’Leary, the private investigator never looked back.

Mark had called Eric early this morning and requested a last minute meeting with him and his assistant, Ellie. He wanted them to stop by his office at one o’clock. Eric called Ellie and informed her to be ready by twelve-fifteen, no later. She promised she would be. He was holding her to her word. He hated to be late.   

Mark told Eric over the phone that he wanted them to do a background check on a new telecommunications firm that had requested Mark to allow them to sponsor a benefit fund raiser as a way to get acquainted with the public. They selected Mark Hanson Education Awareness Foundation as their charity of choice to promote. Mark needed Eric to check them out thoroughly before getting involved with any company that came near any of his charity foundations. He’d spent his entire career building his billion dollar babies and the last thing he needed was for Hanson Enterprises Inc. to have the slightest hint of a scandal associated with them. He knew Eric was the best there was at digging up bones and if this company had any buried, he’d be the one to find them. They had to be squeaky clean before Mark would sign his name to any contract. He requested Eric’s girl Friday, Ellie to tag along for backup. She was pretty good at snooping around and a very nice distraction. Besides, Mark knew Eric was carrying a torch for his pretty blonde employee, even if he’d never admit to it. It was a win/win situation for all concerned.

Eric parked in front of Ellie’s building and bound up the stairs to her second floor apartment. She’d better be ready because Ellie knew how much he hated being late to anything. It was a pet peeve of his any time he had to wait for her. He rang her doorbell and heard the clicking of her shoes across the hardwood floor. When Ellie opened the door, Eric was outwardly stunned. She was completely ready. He couldn’t hide the look of shock on his face as she stood in front of him, ready to go. Ellie was never ready to go, ever, but there she stood.

“You didn’t think I’d be ready, did you?” She giggled, aware his eyes were fixed on her. She looked good enough to eat.

Ellie had large, wide set cornflower blue eyes, an inviting mouth and a light spray of freckles across her perfect nose. Her hair was like spun sunshine that framed her beautiful face and a body that curved in all the right places. Ellie was a natural beauty and Eric could never admit to her, just how attractive she was. He assumed she got that all the time from all the other guys. His friends would make over her whenever he brought her around them. He hated to admit it but he didn’t like introducing Ellie to his friends. He secretly feared she might consider hooking up with one of them. He couldn’t bear the thought.  

Eric spotted her for the first time from across the room at a movie industry charity function. She was stunning. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and assumed she was just another beautiful starlet waiting for her first big break.

They hooked up as partners quite by accident. He was hired by the wife of a film studio executive, convinced that her husband was having an affair with a well known adult film star. Ellie happened to be at the same place looking for a celebrity story about this famous couple to blog about. They exchanged glances, small talk and later notes. She had some really good info about the porn star that helped him with his case. The scoop she fed him resulted in the wife getting a big fat divorce settlement because her cheating husband violated the terms of their prenuptial agreement in which she paid a big fat check to Eric. Of course he gave Ellie a generous cut of it.

Eric knew then, she was more than a pretty face. There were lots of those in Hollywood and once he discovered that she had no desire to become an actress, he knew he had to hire her. She needed the money and Eric needed the help. They discovered as time went on that they had a lot of the same interests in common. Two years later, they were still working together. Somehow they had managed to keep their relationship strictly business but it hadn’t been easy.   

Ellie had on a blue dress that matched her eyes with a short flirty skirt and a fitted button down bodice that showed off her perky tits and slender waist. He tried to pretend he wasn’t staring at her but she looked good enough to eat. Her fresh faced, school girl quality made her appear to be positively illegal for him to be having these kinds of thoughts.

He was thinking out loud as he blurted. “You’re wearing heels!” He had never seen her in high heels before. She usually wore jeans, t-shirts and running shoes. Her long shapely legs were exposed half way up her thighs. He swallowed hard, his groin twitched as she leaned back to check the hemline on her short dress before turning back to look directly in Eric’s eyes. Ellie caught him checking her out. She could read his mind.

He stood there blinking his eyes until she broke the awkward silence between them. “Well, what are we waiting for? Don’t you think we better get going? Don’t want to keep Mark waiting, do we?”

Eric absentmindedly nodded his head as Ellie gathered her handbag and sweater. He took the sweater from her and held it up so she could slide her arms into the sleeves. From where he was standing behind her, he could see down the front of her tight bodice. A glimpse of a lacy pink push up bra was visible. It was snugly holding those soft round fleshy tits of hers high on her chest. He wanted so badly to slip his hand down the front of her dress and squeeze them until her nipples got hard but common sense kept him from following his instincts. She quickly moved towards the door, totally unaware of the lustful thoughts he was having about her behind her back.

Eric followed Ellie out and dutifully secured and double checked the lock on her apartment door. They walked side by side in silence toward his car. He opened the passenger door and her short skirt flipped up as she climbed in and took her seat. He couldn’t help but notice she had on a matching pink thong. He pretended he hadn’t seen it but the vision was burned into his head. Creamy, round asscheeks with a ribbon of pink satin running between them. He had to fight to keep from getting a hard-on. He closed the passenger door, took a deep breath and walked slowly around to the driver’s seat, all the while giving himself a mental talking to. They had work to do and he had to constantly remind himself that she was his employee. There was no way he was going to fuck it all up by bedding her down. From past experience he’d learned those workplace affairs never end well. He slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. His eyes darted to his right and slowly traveled the length of her smooth thighs peeking out from her short flounced skirt. He groaned under his breath. Fuck you Eric! Stop looking at her like that!

“Did you say something Eric?” She knew very well she was distracting him. Ellie could read him like a book after working for him so long. She often wondered what he looked like naked. He was incredibly handsome, tall, broad shoulders with deep set hazel eyes and thick wavy hair. She had decided she needed to keep her job worse than she needed to get laid. So she kept her carnal feelings for him to herself.  

Eric was always a gentleman but she imagined him to be a beast in the bedroom. He was always quick with an off color remark and he’d pretend to be apologetic for his dirty jokes but she knew he wasn’t. That part of his personality intrigued her. She delighted in watching him become ever more sexually frustrated when he was around her. Although he always tried to do and say the right thing sometimes the devil came out in his actions. Maybe it was only wishful thinking that made her hope that he was as secretly attracted to her as much as she was to him.  

Their friendship had blossomed into feeling comfortable enough to talk to each other about intimate subjects occasionally. It usually consisted of what types of lovers they preferred or what they liked their partners to do but most of those conversations were short and concise. Interestingly, Eric’s types resembled the very opposite of what Ellie looked like. It made her sad because he seemed to be more attracted to petite brunettes or sassy redheads instead of healthy looking blondes. She always pretended to act like it didn’t bother her but it did, more than she cared to admit. Those types of conversations were usually cut short when Eric would quickly change the subject to something less personal but they could talk for hours about almost anything. They loved the same books, the same music and they had the same sense of humor. He was intelligent and thoughtful. She loved everything about him.   

Too many times he had dropped her off at her apartment after work to go have drinks with his buddies at the bar or sometimes it was a casual date with an old lover who was in town or a female friend. He always told her about them and sometimes went into great detail, describing his past history with the women in his life. Instead of feeling like his closest confidant and friend, it left Ellie feeling sexually frustrated, blue and insignificant. She spent a lot of time doubting her own sex appeal. She knew she was attractive. She had plenty of attention from lots of other men but never enough from Eric. Just a hint from time to time when he’d had a bit too much to drink and it drove her crazy when he’d sober up and go back to calling her his little buddy.  

What she didn’t know was that Eric would often go home and take matters into his own hand, so to speak. He’d imagine what it felt like to touch her beautiful body and bury his cock deep inside that sweet pussy. He’d masturbate while looking at a picture he kept of her. Sometimes it got so pathetic, he’d polish off an entire bottle of single malt in one setting just to numb the thoughts he had about her. The next day after he sobered up, he’d get upset for even entertaining thoughts of having a relationship with Ellie.

More than once he thought about cutting off all contact with her but something always stopped him from carrying through with his threats. He couldn’t imagine not having her in his life, despite his private thoughts being consumed with fucking her. He hated to admit it but he was falling in love with Ellie.

As they drove down Wilshire, Ellie pulled her lipstick out of her clutch and carefully applied it while looking in her compact mirror. “So, what does Mark need us for in such a hurry?” Eric watched her from the corner of his eye as she carefully glided the lipstick tube sensuously around her open mouth, dragging that creamy pink tip across those perfect plump lips. Goddamn, why was every single thing she did so sensual? He pictured her wrapping those pink lips around the head of his cock. He had to discreetly adjust his crotch when she wasn’t looking. She made his dick hard every fucking time he was around her. It was getting to be a real problem.

He quickly pulled his thoughts back on track and his eyes back on the road. “Uh… he’s got this big telecommunications firm that he wants us to check out for him, you know, make sure they’re legit.” Her lightly tinted pink lips looked as though they had been kissed by dew. He wanted to lean over and kiss them but he kept both hands on the wheel and looked straight ahead again, trying desperately not to think about it.

“And he needs me there to…?” She tilted her head slightly in an inquisitive manner.

“He needs you there because you’re snoopy.” Eric gave her a lopsided grin. “You get to ask the prying questions and distract the guy while I do some background work.”

“He thinks I’m snoopy?” Ellie eyes narrowed.

“Aren’t you?” His head tilted downward to look over his sunglasses at her.

“Well yeah… but is it that obvious?”

“Ellie, you’re a reporter! People don’t get into that kind of business unless they’re nosy.” He was genuinely charmed by her frustration at being profiled.

“You’re a private investigator. They’re nosy, aren’t they?” She asked defensively.

“I suppose so but I got into this line of work because I could pretty much pick my own hours and it pays better than being a cop. Besides, I like sleeping in and having no boss to tell me what I can or can’t do.” He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a crooked smile. “I dunno, maybe you and I just make a great team. I investigate and you snoop.”

Ellie punched his arm and wrinkled her nose. Her face was flushed. “Investigator is just another word for snoop!” She crossed her arms over her chest and lowered her chin in a mock pout. 

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” He absentmindedly reached over and touched her leg. She was pushing his senses into overdrive and the softness of her thigh made his mouth water. He wanted her so badly at this moment but he quickly pulled his hand away. He thought about apologizing about touching her that way but he wasn’t sorry, not this time.

She smiled at him as though she could read his mind. “OK, we’ll call a truce… for now.” She laughed, her blue eyes twinkled. His hand felt so good on her skin. She only wished he would touch her like that and really mean it.

They were nearly to Mark’s building near MacArthur Park. Both of them were lost in their own thoughts but they had no idea they were thinking of the same thing. Neither of their thoughts had anything to do with the meeting with Mark.

A strong crosswind came up as the car turned into the opening of the parking garage. Ellie’s skirt billowed up exposing her nearly naked bottom half. Her tiny lacy pink thong barely covered her neatly trimmed patch of blond hair between her long legs. Eric memorized every delectable detail of the vision. The pink gauzy material stretched precariously over that small triangle and the irrefutable outlined cleft of her labia. Her silky skin was exposed on either side of the delicate pink lace of the barely there fabric. He could almost smell her sweet scent. He took all of it in, every blissful bit of it. Ellie had the choice of protecting her hair or her skirt and luckily for Eric, she chose to protect the hairdo. 

“What was that?” Her eyes grew wide as she smoothed down her hair and then her skirt.

“I’d say it was an Irish Blessing. I haven’t had one of those in a while.” He winked at her and added. “A sight for sore eyes.”

Ellie pretended to be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize that an Irish Blessing included a peek at my panties.”

“That’s because you’re English, not Irish.” He threw his head back and laughed. His jeans got a little tighter as he thought of that tiny pink lace triangle that covered her little piece of heaven. The little piece of heaven that he wanted more than anything in the world right now. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he thought about the vision that had been seared into his brain.

He parked the car in one of Mark’s designated spots and walked around to offer Ellie a hand out. As she swung her legs around he got one final view of that little pink thong and he knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. He allowed her to walk slightly ahead of him toward the elevator door. Her light floral perfume wafted behind her and he breathed it in. The steady swish of her skirt and the side to side sway of her hips, hypnotized him. He felt like a lamb being led to slaughter. He knew he was getting ready to lose all self control.

The elevator door quietly slid open and they stepped inside. Enclosed in an elevator with the low lighting, music playing softly and the scent of Ellie’s perfume made Eric a little weak in the knees. The vision of that sexy pink thong between those long legs, hugging that sweet cleft of her pussy so tight kept going through his head, driving him crazy. They stood silently side by side with her looking like a vision in her short little blue dress. Blond tresses fell softly onto delicate shoulders and a pair of soft pink lips he ached to kiss. Standing as close to her as possible without actually touching her, he could take no more. His instincts took over as his hand slammed heavily on the bright red stop button.

The elevator came to a sudden halt as he caught Ellie and steadied her on her feet. She gazed up at him with startled wide eyes that quickly turned into desire as he lowered his eyes and moved his mouth towards hers. His voice was gruff as he wrapped his arms around her waist and crushed his lips against hers. “I need you now Ellie. I… I can’t wait another minute. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

She confessed outright. “Oh, Eric, I’ve felt the same way.” It was all she needed to say. Her arms flew around his neck and she pulled him closer as they kissed and groped at each other like a couple of unleashed tigers. Eric pushed her up against the wall of the elevator and shoved his hands under her errant skirt to squeeze her soft round bottom with both hands. Her cheeks were soft, cool to the touch and fleshy in his palms. He pulled her roughly towards his erection that was ready to burst out of his jeans.

“Tell me you want me Ellie.” His voice was low. He crumpled a handful of her hair in his fist and growled. “Tell me you want me to fuck you, right here and now!”

Ellie had never seen him like this and she relished every single minute of it. “Oh God, yes, Eric! Fuck me here! Fuck me right now! I want you to fuck me so bad!”

A guttural groan came from Eric’s throat as he shoved her roughly against the wall. His fingers found her tight bodice and he was relieved to find out that the buttons were snaps because he was going to rip through them, hell or high water. The front of her dress popped open with a single tug, exposing that lacy pink push up bra which he quickly unfastened. Her perky tits with the most perfect set of pink nipples he could ever imagine bounced and jiggled as he humped her against the elevator wall. Leaning down to draw each hard nipple into his hungry mouth, Ellie hastily fumbled with his belt. There was such a frantic need to be naked that they clawed and pulled at clothing in a desperate attempt to rid themselves of anything that would get in the way of their need for flesh on flesh. Clothes were strewn all over the floor of the elevator.

The only thing left was Ellie’s tiny pink thong. Eric dropped to his knees as if he had found the Holy Grail. His eyes were riveted to that lacy little triangle of satin and lace covering her blond neatly trimmed triangle of hair. He slowly trailed his hands down her sides. Each fingertip spread wide apart as he traced along her ribcage to the tapering of her slender waist to the curve of her soft belly until he was touching the satin band that held the thong in place.  Carefully, he slipped his fingers on either side of the waistband and slowly, sensuously slid the tiny pink lace down her thighs, past her knees until they floated softly onto the floor beneath her high heeled feet. He leaned back on his heels, his mouth open with a look of complete wonder on his handsome face as he stared at the lovely Ellie, standing naked and beautiful in front of him. Her completely smooth pussy lips were eye level and glistening with wet beads of arousal.

She trembled as she stood before him in nothing but high heels. Eric’s eyes turned liquid as he pulled her lovely body next to his face. He brushed his lips across her smooth belly then down to the little triangle of heaven he had pictured so clearly, so many times in his mind. His tongue found her cleft and tasted the drops of sweet musk. Her scent overwhelmed his senses. He groaned as his hands massaged her inner thighs. The primal sound made Ellie shiver as she entwined her fingers through his thick hair, pushing his head deeper between her legs.  

She used two fingers to spread her smooth lips open as his tongue entered deeper into the warm place he had dreamed about for so long. She tasted sweet, hot and wet. He wanted more and more of it. Her heart was beating faster with every stroke of his tongue alongside her throbbing clitoris. She spread her legs wider so he could give all his attention to her hard little clitoris. He fluttered lightly across it at first until the licks became faster and harder. His hands wrapped tightly around the tops of her thighs as he pushed her bare bottom against the cool brushed metal of the elevator wall. Her head tilted back with closed eyes as she whimpered, then cried out as her body shuddered from an intense orgasm. She slid down the wall to the floor along with Eric and his magical tongue. He held onto her tightly as he savored every drop.

She tugged at his hair. “Fuck me Eric, fuck me now!” She whispered gruffly as she raked her fingernails across his broad shoulders, leaving red trails of welts. He slowly stood up holding her in his arms, sliding her body up against the smooth steel wall as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. His throbbing, aching cock slid easily inside her still contracting, wet, warm pussy. He fucked her hard, harder than he’d ever fucked a woman before, shoving his cock into her shuddering body over and over, against the cold wall. He grunted every time he pushed deeper and deeper inside her. She whimpered with delight and clung to Eric as tightly as she could while he held her up by her luscious buttocks. He continued to pound her like his life depended on it until he couldn’t hold back any longer. His body tensed and he lost his breath. He felt like he was cumming from the entire length of his legs up to his balls and all the way through the top of his head. Every inch of his body was humming as he pulled out and let what seemed like a gallon of cum squirt all the way up to her tits and flow slowly down her soft firm belly to her thighs. His fingers dug deeply into her flesh, leaving bruise marks on her pale cheeks as he pushed her hard against the wall. His still hard dick pressing up against her warm smooth abdomen. The elevator literally shook from their frantic fucking.

They collapsed into one another against the cool brushed stainless metal. He slowly slid her body back down until her feet were once again touching the floor, kissing her neck and lips softly as he deposited her safely back on the ground. He gazed into her eyes and smiled as he stroked the side of her face, quietly whispering. “You OK?”

With wobbly legs, Ellie nodded and smiled back at him. She leaned on Eric as he embraced her in his arms. The coolness of the wall pressed against her bare ass and the warmth of his muscular body against her breasts was an exalting sensation. Slowly they pulled away from each other. He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Ellie. She cleaned herself up as well as she could. Eric went about gathering up and separating their strewn clothing.

Eric kept checking his watch. He was back to being the Eric she was used to seeing. He was slightly embarrassed about allowing himself to lose control but not the least bit sorry.  Ellie knew him well enough by now not to be surprised by the sudden about face and back to business nature. She understood and loved him for being who he was. She smiled softly to herself as he silently helped her finish clean up before she put on her clothes.

Eric tucked his shirt back into his jeans and chuckled. “I guess we’re going to be late to the meeting after all.” His sheepish grin reminded her of how shy he could be as he stood there trying very hard to pretend that nothing in particular had just happened between them.

Ellie managed to get her dress and bra back on as she snapped the front of the bodice back up. “How are we going to explain this to Mark?” She smirked in her mirror while combing her hair and checking her makeup.

“We won’t have to.” Eric pointed to the camera in the upper corner of the elevator as he rolled his eyes. “He’s never going to let me live this one down.”

Ellie’s face turned pale and then bright red as she looked up at the menacing lens of the camera. She put her hand over her mouth and mouthed, “Oh my God!”  

Eric shook his head to dismiss her fears. “Don’t worry about it. Mark has seen more action on film and off than an entire flock of porn stars. It’s just another day in the life for him.” Eric waved his hand as to brush away her doubts. “Besides, he’s been trying to get us together for a long time. He’ll just tell me it’s about time. You can’t pull anything over on him. Don’t even try.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Hell, he might even be kind enough to make a copy of the video for us.”  

Ellie didn’t know whether Eric’s casual attitude about his best friend watching their first sexual encounter was assuring or alarming. She sighed and quietly nodded in agreement. “I’ll take your word for it.” There was nothing she could do about it now. She had experienced a first in their relationship and she wouldn’t trade this memory for all the modesty in the world.  

She looked almost as put together as she did before Eric had picked her up at her apartment. He noticed her looking around on the floor of the elevator. “Are you missing something?”

“Yes, I’m missing something!” She exclaimed with a look of panic. “My panties! I have no panties on!”

Eric cocked one eyebrow. “Well, that’s a real shame.” He grinned as he pulled them out of his jeans pocket and held them up in front of her. “Do they look like this?”

She tried to snatch them from his hand but he held them out of her reach. “Yes! Now give them back to me!”

He slowly shook his head and smirked. “You can’t really call these panties. They don’t cover enough to claim that title.” He held the thong to his nose, closed his eyes and breathed in her scent before quickly stuffing it deep into his pocket again. “Nope, I’m keeping it. It’s my little piece of heaven.” She sighed and shook her head in defeat.

He hit the start button and the elevator began its ascent to Mark’s office. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and whispered. “I might think about giving them back tonight after I get you in my bed.” Ellie smiled as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. They stood, holding hands and silently reliving the elevator ride in their minds as they prepared for their face to face meeting with Mark.  

The End

A Beautiful Mess

A Beautiful Mess

By Myandra Monroe

A Beautiful Mess

Sometimes she laughs too loudly

She cries perhaps when she shouldn’t

Her hair’s a tumble of unruly curls

She’s sort of a beautiful mess

Her clothes aren’t all that stylish

Pink nail polish that’s always chipped

She’d be late for her own funeral

She’s sort of a beautiful mess.

She’ll steal all the blankets

Her feet are always cold  

She snorts when she laughs at your jokes

She’s sort of a beautiful mess.

Her eyes might be blue on Monday

They’ll probably be green the next day

Her lipstick is smeared from too many kisses

She’s sort of a beautiful mess

She’ll capture your soul

With one fateful glance

She’ll love you with all her heart

She’s sort of a beautiful mess

You’ll never forget her

Once she leaves your bed

You’ll beg her to stay

But…

She’s sort of a beautiful mess.