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The poetry
in Erotic Tales is beautiful as well as arousing. Here is a sample
poem for you:
“Masterpiece”-Mia
Jennings
Skin; smooth as silk, unadorned for the artist,
Fettered limbs with rope as if a pencil sketch,
Submissive body, taut, much like a canvas stretched;
Awaiting patiently for my Master’s kiss,
My soul’s on fire when I hear him hotly hiss,
My body writhes when I feel within his fingers etch.
His hands are rough, yet, careful, like a first draft,
Deeper we dive into Imagination’s abyss,
”Please, my Master, just one more kiss?”
Being naughty has become my craft;
Wishing to feel within his ascendant shaft,
To deeply sense his stroke of anguished bliss.
Now silenced by a piece of tape,
His muse stands guard in the twilight air,
His whispers sound as if an eerie prayer,
Pain defines me in this erotic scene-scape,
Candle wax drips hot, there’s no escape!
And his eyes burn into me as they stare.
Floggers aesthetically deepen the scene;
Whips stain my flesh with welted red,
Limbs taut, fettered to my Master’s bed,
My mouth is silenced, I cannot scream,
My nether-lips thick, laced with cream,
Sweet, sweet adrenaline intoxicates my head.
Posed am I, trapped deep inside a frame;
Aesthetic for the eyes to see,
Our passion shapes this sinful theme;
The paint’s the pleasure and the pain,
Endorphins race inside my veins,
As my need grows strong for him to kiss me.
My body’s trembling, my muscles strained,
Desperately wishing for some relief,
My lips so swollen, ravenous for a feast;
A wild emotion I can’t explain;
The covet for pleasure. Oh! The pain!
”Your submission,” he spoke, “is my Masterpiece.”
Mia
Jennings is also a wonderful artist see her work at
http://home.comcast.net/~Mia.j
The
stories in Erotic Tales range from romantic to raunchy, something
for everyone's taste.
Here is a sample
story for you:
“Toys
for Two”- Lucinda Baker
The flickering
light of a dozen candles casts a shimmering glow over his body, as
he lies, sprawled against large, fluffy pillows, one arm thrown
carelessly over his head as if he means to feign nonchalance. I
lounge next to him, running a finger over one leanly muscled thigh
as he presses a hand to the small of my back where he lightly trails
a finger of his own over the soft triangle of flesh there. Long and
lovely, his cock lies nestled between his legs as I continue to
journey over cool naked skin, raising goose bumps and eliciting soft
sighs of contented pleasure from his barely parted lips. Dipping my
head, I touch my tongue to his nipple, which hardens as he inhales a
shaky breath and gently, playfully, I nip and bite, moving from one
nipple to the other, careful to give each the attention it deserves.
The rich fiery halo of my hair cascades across his stomach tickling
and teasing the places my fingers have not yet reached. How I love
touching this man, I marvel. After more than a decade of marriage,
there is not one inch of him that isn’t familiar to me yet I am
always surprised to find that I feel the same tremor of excited
discovery - as if it were the first time I’d ever touched him. My
fingers reach their destination and I feel him harden beneath them.
All pretense of indifference has vanished. Playtime is about to
begin.
”Fuck me, baby. Finger my ass….” I lift my eyes to
meet his, their color rivaling that of a lushly verdant Oregon
forest, and press a finger to his lips, silencing his petition
though I never tire of hearing it. Giving in so easily isn’t part of
the game however so I pout ever so slightly, just enough to make him
think I might not comply.
”Fuck you? With just my finger?” Whispering the
question into his ear, I wrap my tongue around the lobe, pulling it
into my mouth before releasing it with a flirtatious nip. “Oh Daddy,
I think I can do better than that.”
Like a cat on the
prowl, I slink on all fours to the foot of the bed where I survey
the array of toys and lotions displayed there - vibrators and butt
plugs and bottles of scented and tasty oils, all designed to make
playtime that much more fun. Again, I pretend to consider his
request, taking my time with my selection and prolonging his
deliciously nasty craving for it’s the part of the game he most
enjoys, watching hungrily as I tarry over the goodies we’ve laid out
together, anxious to see what I’ll choose.
”Hmmm”, I murmur, wiggling my butt just enough
to tempt and invite. “I don’t think I see anything you’d like.”
Thwack!
Though I knew it was coming, I can’t contain
the tiny yelp of surprise as he smacks an open hand to my ass once
more, causing it to burn with a tantalizing tingle. Placatingly, he
pets the spot, soothing and relieving the sting, as I wriggle into
the caress.
”Maybe this will help you decide.” His breath,
like his tongue, is hot and moist as he begins lapping at the folds
of my pussy, gently prying the already swollen lips apart to reach
inside me while strong, calloused hands slither up my sides where my
breasts fill his palms as he alternately kneads and pinches the
nipples. I’m delirious with the exquisite agony of it.
”Mmm, that’s it sweet daddy,” I purr, savoring
the heavenly feel of his tongue as it caters first to my throbbing
pussy, licking it with tentative catlike tongue strokes before
moving to my ass where he circles the rim before plunging deep
within me.
The toys before me blur and I’ve just begun
rocking in time with his tongue when I’m pulled from the brink of
climax by his retreat, leaving me whimpering and panting in
frustration. Gradually, the display comes back into focus and my
breathing becomes less labored but there will be no relief for the
insistent pulsing between my legs, I know, until I submit to his
appeal. I plan, however, to take my time getting to it.
Selecting one of the oils, a sour apple
flavor that warms to the touch, I turn to find him once again
reclining against a multitude of pillows, his open legs an
invitation that prompts me to kneel there between them. Lifting his
slumbering rod, I lightly touch my lips to its head and feel his
dick awaken beneath my kiss, flushing a dusty pink and flaring its
velvety hood as I strengthen my grip around its base. His cock
begins to swell, lengthening and expanding, growing thicker, fat and
filled with creamy nectar. I long to linger there but don’t, knowing
that if I do the game will be over before it’s really begun. And
so, with great effort, I lift my head, tipping the bottle of oil
until its contents flow, drenching that savory cock in bright green
goodness. Hooking his arms under his knees, my lascivious lover
pulls his legs back as we both watch the oil glide languidly down
the shaft of his cock, over my fingers and onto his cleanly shaven
balls to dribble, finally, into the crack of his ass. Methodically,
I trace the oil’s path and, with feathery fingertip caresses, I
mercilessly tease the back door opening where it pools. Longing, so
palpable it breathes with a life of its own, smolders behind his
half closed eyes.
”Fuck it, baby.” The words are murmured almost
reverently but I ignore them.
”Not yet, lover, not yet.” I soothe before
dipping my head to partake of the candied delicacy I have created.
His cock is long and I love to lick the sides of it, taking my time
as I make my way to the top where I flick my tongue into the hole
there, wiggling inside of him in an attempt to taste the goodness as
it rises to greet me. You see we have trained this beautiful cock,
he and I, to erupt multiple times in small spurts of warm stickiness
that gratify my efforts and encourage me to press on to the grand
finale.
”God, I love watching you suck my cock.” One
hand reaches down and pushes back the flaming mane that obstructs
his view as I continue to lick and suck and lap greedily at the
entire length of him. Knowing that he’s watching adds to the
excitement and together we begin to moan in mutual pleasure. For a
moment I’m carried away, lost in the musky smell of his sex as his
yearning for release increases but, again with some difficulty, I
stop, punishing him for his earlier abrupt retreat by slapping his
cock against my tongue one last time before his deliverance can be
realized. Sitting back on my heels, I reach for a jar of body butter
from amongst our playthings, setting it between his legs and
ignoring the protest I see about to erupt from his lips. This time
he silences himself, content to watch my preparations and stroke the
steel hard pole I have abandoned while I stoke the fires of
anticipation even more by placing a pillow on either side of him
before easing his knees into them so that his splayed legs rest
comfortably. I retrieve the jar with one hand while the other glides
lightly over his thigh, to the cock he still plays with. The jar’s
contents are cool and I swirl one finger in the thick lubricant to
coat it while wrapping my other hand around his. Lovingly we stroke
the length of him until the tiniest bead of come bubbles to the
surface where my tongue is waiting to lap it up. I move to fondle
his balls before cupping the sac, heavy with un-spilled juices then
lift them to expose the seam hidden there. Trailing the
well-lubricated finger along this secret seam, my inventiveness is
soon rewarded with shuddering spasms that give away his body’s
delight even before I reach the mouth-like opening of his ass where
my finger loiters for a few brief yet evidently agonizing seconds.
Tenderly I plumb the soft, puckering hole, encouraged by the
increased rhythm of his hand. His balls pull tight and he melts into
the pillows, sighing. It is this moment he has hungered for yet it
will all be over much too quickly if I allow him to continue at the
pace he has set his hand to. I touch my hand to his and he eases up
on his cock strokes while wiggling his hinny appreciatively as I
begin to finger fuck him with delicious dalliance.
”That’s it, baby, nice and slow.” His words are
unnecessary as I have no intention of hurrying since I have promised
much more than mere finger fucking and I want to ensure he’s ready
for the delights yet to come.
Leisurely, his hand roams the blue veined shaft
of his dick, massaging green oil into every luscious inch. Tweaking
his own nipples, already hard and erect as the rod he so lovingly
fondles, causes low moans to escape his lips and fall softly about
the flickering, candlelit room. I want to touch him and do,
delighting in the warmth of his skin, the feel of muscles rippling
just beneath the surface as I run my hand over his taut belly.
Somehow he finds the bottle of oil I discarded and tips it on end so
that, once more, a flood of green gushes over his cock so that he
has to use both hands to contain it. Then, ministering to his balls
with one hand, he pumps his cock with the other as I wiggle my
finger deep inside him until he’s writhing with nothing short of
pure hedonistic bliss. Watching him, I’m struck by how beautiful he
is at this moment and, as always, I’m touched by the absolute
openness he displays for me alone. It is at these times, when he is
sharing all of himself, holding nothing back, that my love for him
threatens to be my undoing and I want to shower him with even a
small portion of what he shares with me.
Not wanting to break the spell that seems to
have ensnared him but desperate to extinguish the blaze his abandon
has fueled within me, I gently coax his hand from his balls,
bringing it to meet my own where it continues to mine the tender
threshold of his ass. No further persuasion is needed. Two of his
slick fingers slide easily inside where they match the rhythm of
mine and fill his playhole deliciously full. Reluctantly, yet
purposefully, I remove my finger, encouraging my self-indulgent
lover to continue playing - which he does - while I turn my
attention back to the colorful array of goodies at the foot of the
bed.
For the first time I’m in a hurry as I hastily
choose two items before scampering to the head of the bed where I
relax next to my masturbating lover, ready for some playtime of my
own. My intent is clear and he turns to watch as I spread wide my
legs, resting one knee next to his, and fill my palm with a generous
glob of body butter before slathering it over the substantial shaft
of the purple vibrator I’ve chosen for myself. I slow my hand,
deliberately mirroring the easy touch he uses on his own, equally
impressive tool before reaching down to expose my clit, which, to my
intense delight, is standing at attention and virtually quaking to
erupt. I can’t resist touching it.
”It’s beautiful!” Wonderfully warm flutters
shimmy through me, filling my body, my mind, so that I barely hear
his hushed exclamation. Deftly, the tips of my fingers pressed
against the plump rosy mound, I move my hand in a leisurely circular
motion, closing my eyes and sinking deeper into the pillows beneath
me. I’ve all but forgotten, it seems, the toy I so eagerly prepared
as I’m carried away on a billowy cloud of rapturous euphoria. A warm
and sticky hand covers my breast and I open my eyes to find that my
playful bedmate is now sitting up, his legs crossed and his cock
rising from the middle - a gorgeous sentinel, erect and alert.
Sparks flash in his green eyes as they bore into mine, seeing, it
seems, to my very soul and I feel his hand cover mine, guiding it
and its occupant to the emptiness I hadn’t noticed until that very
moment. Instantly, I am filled.
He returns to his cock, sliding that same hand
up and down the lengthy shaft while I begin languidly pumping my
pussy with a rhythm that heightens and intensifies the rush of heat
engulfing me. With a flick of my thumb, the vibrator hums to life
and I wriggle my hips in concert with its twisting dance while
continuing to polish the pink pearl of my clit. His hand flits from
one tit to the other, pinching and kneading the rock hard nipples
and his cock strokes become more frenzied.
”Slap it, now! “ There is frantic eagerness
in his voice and I obey immediately, alternately slapping and
massaging my clit with the tips of my fingers until…
”That’s it, shoot it, baby, shoot it.” He can
contain his fervor no longer as it spurts from me then, a white-hot
stream that arcs just slightly before disappearing into the shadows
of the bed. Quickly he scrambles to kneel at my feet, his mouth open
wide, thirsty for my body’s milky ambrosia. I cannot deny him and
wouldn’t even if I could for my need to quench his thirst is just as
strong as his craving to drink.
Soon, his face is shiny and wet and we
laugh as I plunge the shuddering vibrator deep inside me and slap my
clit until steamy juice squirts and gushes, soaking us both and the
silken sheets beneath us. Burying his face in me, he swats the still
buzzing vibrator away as if it were an offending insect and begins
to drink, lapping and sucking voraciously at the fountain of my clit
until my body quivers and trembles in the throes of its release and
my screams of orgasmic abandon fade to soft mewling of contentment
as feathery soft, wet kisses flutter across my stomach, over my
breasts, along the sides of my neck. He covers me, then, with his
come slickened body, placing his lips on mine. His kiss is deep,
tasting of pussy and our tongues entwine like long lost lovers. His
cock, tireless and demanding, pushes through my slit and, for a
moment, I am transported, caught up and dizzy with renewed desire.
He moans against my lips and instantly I am reminded that he has yet
to be delivered of his own, by now painful need. Yet, I must prolong
it a few excruciating moments more. After all, hadn’t I
promised to do better than his simple request to be finger fucked?
”Wait, sweet daddy”, I coo, breaking the kiss
and miraculously finding the toy I had earlier chosen just for him
still lying next to me. “I have something for you.”
Eyeing the neatly strung beads I dangle
before him, he grins and rises, turning as if to lie on his back.
Wordlessly I stop him, guiding him, instead, to stand so that he
straddles my body as I push myself up to sit against the headboard.
Dipping the string of beads into the still open jar of body butter,
I make sure they’re well coated before enclosing them in my hand.
”Now, use the headboard for support and squat
down so that I can suck you.” I prompt. His cock has softened a bit
but quickly hardens as I begin lovingly licking its sides and
stroking its head with the pointed tip of my tongue.
”Mmmm,” He croons, “That feels good.” His hips
begin to rock as I take his cock in my mouth, sucking and slurping
loudly, my own muffled moaning rising to unite with his. Gently I
knead his balls, move to cup his buttocks, petting him there just as
he did to me.
Thwack!
His hips thrust forward as my open hand
lands against one rounded cheek and I’m rewarded with a thick stream
of come that splatters against the back of my throat before gliding
warmly to my tummy like steaming, marshmallow filled cocoa.
Continuing to suck him, I reach my arms around his hips where I
gently ply his ass, still dripping with lubrication. The beads slide
in effortlessly as, one at a time, I push them in, slowly and with
deliberate care, until only a bit of string with a ring attached
remains, swaying between his legs. His hip thrusts become faster and
the tip of his cock tickles the back of my throat. I suck with
relish, pulling him to me so that my lips brush his balls as they
tighten and draw up into themselves. I wait for just the right
moment, twining my finger around the ring that peeks from beneath
his sac as he steadies himself against the headboard. Instinctively,
I know when that magic moment has arrived, the moment he is about to
come and I begin pulling on the string of beads, reveling in his
cries as each one is freed and he shoots his load in great heaving
bursts that slide, hot and thick, down my throat.
His legs shake and his hands are still
locked tightly on the headboard as I tenderly lick him clean before
he collapses next to me, pulling me close so that our bodies touch
and my head rests on his still heaving chest. No words are necessary
as we lie together, listening as the candles sputter out and our
breathing returns to normal. This is my favorite part - the
closeness the follows such sharing and trust with one’s inner most
fancies. Again, my longtime love presses his lips to mine, kissing
me tentatively at first then with more ardency. It is a kiss of
gratitude as much as love and I return it with impassioned zeal for
this man who has entrusted me with his soul’s secret desires.
Eventually, we sleep, waking in the pre dawn
hours to make love, tenderly and without the accessories of that
evening’s earlier coupling. It is, instead, a merging of two bodies,
each intimately familiar with the other so that instinctively we
know where to touch, how to move, when to surrender.
Later, in the days and weeks that follow, we are
drawn to one another again and again, reinventing rather than
reliving what we now fondly refer to as ‘The Headboard Incident’.
Lucinda Baker can be reached at
eorbylucinda@aol.com
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