Kinky Sex Link

I bit of literary work…from me this week.

Do you remember the awesome site called Sugasm where one could fins the best round-up sex blogers? Although not the owner it was entirely managed by the fabulous Radical Vixen. She has a wonderful blog of her own and she asked me a while back to guest blog for her Vixen Invites Series. It took quite some time for me to find the right inspiration but when it came it hit hard.

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Playing Cops and Robbers – by Mystress Lady Evyl

In a quiet booth on a quiet Sunday night we are half way though eating our dinner at a local restaurant. I have travelled a long way to be here to give one of my workshops and this man I am sharing a meal with was chosen as a possible good match to play with and serve me while I was touring the local dungeon party circuit. They were right, we were a good match.

Sunday is my last day here and I am spending it alone with him. It’s been a great day so far playing tourist. Before dinner this man asks if we can stop by his place so he shower before dinner, he has not been home since Saturday lunchtime. Once at his home I get the grand tour. It’s a nice house, big, sparse in furniture and clean. The most exciting thing for me actually is a closet in the basement. That is where his police uniforms are stored, real ones. He is not full time but he is on the force. I make a mental note.

As the waiter walks away from our table I say to him “I want you to fulfill one of my fantasies tonight”. He looks up at me quizzically and is very attentive. We had already discussed my little fetish for play fighting and wrestling over the weekend. I say “I want you to put on your cop uniform and we will wrestle with you in it”. He was not expecting that. His eyes grew wide open and he hesitated for a moment. But he agreed willingly once the hesitation passed.

Dinner is finished lasciviously and we make our way back to his place. We chat for a bit and then he excuses himself and goes to the basement. He is gone for some time and I know he is changing. I call out to him after a while to see if all is OK and he answers he is in the bathroom. Yeah, sure! I make way up to the top floor where the bedrooms are. I choose my hiding place behind the door of the guest bedroom. If he is playing the cop well I am going to be the criminal in pursuit. I hear him coming up the stairs. I watch him appear through the crack between the door frame and door. My heart sinks and I melt, he is gorgeous and confident all dressed up in his uniform. He first heads in the opposite direction than the room I am in. Moments later he is back in the hallway with a look on his face that says ‘where is she’. Eventually he comes in the room I am hiding in. His back is to me, he is 2 feet away. I am frozen and hesitant; I just want to watch him. But I wake from my reverie and I attack him from behind.

Now why do I have a wrestling fetish? I do not know. I have never been in a fight and I don’t have siblings. I just know it is exciting and I am pretty smart in trying to find a way out in general. Just before we hit the bed I notice he already has a pair of handcuffs in his hand ready to ‘take me’. Sneaky bastard, I’ll give him a fight. Now of course had I been a real criminal I would have been in handcuffs in no time. He is letting me struggle a bit. But after a while I am on my back and my left arm is twisted behind my back and it HURTS. “Hold it, time out. No pain” I say. He answers “I’ll never get the cuffs on you then without a bit of pain if fighting, that would be normal procedure for an arrest”. “Too bad” I say, “I am the Mistress and I do not do pain, you’ll just have to wrestle longer”. He lets go of my arm and its back to fighting. Since the beginning he has me pinned down in no time but every time he tries to let go one of his hands to try and cuff me that is when I get sneaky and try to escape. I can actually see him getting a little frustrated as to how he should deal with this problem. But we are also giggling and are having so much fun.

Next thing we are falling off the bed and land on the opposite side of the room. This feels like a movie scene a bit and I love every moment of it. We have been struggling a good 10 minutes now. I feel out of breath and I can see the beads of sweat falling off his forehead onto me. Suddenly I feel a route of escape and try to crawl away but before I make my getaway he grabs my ankle. The thing is my pants are loose and I am not wearing a belt so as I keep struggling I actually slip half way out of my pants. He is back on top but I keep fighting…so much so I realize later I have made a mess of his wall with pant marks. I am getting tired and eventually give in just enough for him to get the cuffs on me. The criminal has been caught and is laying face down on the floor with pants around the ankles now. I am helped to my knees and we are both exhausted after a good 15-20 min of wrestling. I feel completely exhilarated and loved every minute of it.

Now he takes out a plasticized paper and proceeds to read me my rights and informs me I have been arrested. His face relaxes and he looks at me with a coy smile “Now it would be a shame for a lovely young lady like you to have a criminal record. If you promise to behave I’ll take those cuffs off and we can maybe come up with an arrangement to wipe you record clean”. OMG I love this guy, he is so creative, playing his role to the very end. I agree to behave and the handcuffs are removed. The role play scene is over. We catch our breath on the bed and are laughing. I ask him if it’s the first time he does this with his uniform on, certain I am not the first to ask. He tells me indeed some have asked in the past but this is the first time he has ever agreed to it because he trusts me. I actually accidentally ripped off a minor accessory of his uniform during the struggle. He picks it up and offers it to me as a souvenir. Although I do take back the reigns of control, I do ‘clear my record’ and leave without a criminal record

Since I have been back home whenever that guest room is brought up in our conversations it is referred to as the wrestling room. Every time I see the souvenir I cherish the memory of that night. I can definitely say that is one of my top fantasies now fulfilled. I have checked it off the list.

Val Fox clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as her best friend, Sarah, goaded her.  “No, I’m not going to the reunion.  Everybody from high school was so stupid.  Don’t you remember?”  Flipping through the pages of the style magazine, she held it below her chin and asked Sarah, “Do you think this hair style would look good on me?”

Sarah shook her head, and Val shook her head back.  With a mocking tone, Sarah said, “They were all stupid back then.  You’re right, but I wonder if maybe some of those assholes have gotten more mature over the years.  We’ll never know unless we grace them with our presence, now will we?”  She fluffed her hair and pointed to the new page Val held against her chest.  “I think that one might look okay on you.”

Val shrugged.  “I dunno.  Don’t you think it’s a little too eighties?”  She flipped the magazine to the next page just as the waiting area of the salon began smelling of perm solution.  “You just want to see Johnny again.  Don’t lie to me and tell me that’s not the reason you’re trying to drag me along to the class reunion.  He’s probably married and has a couple of kids by now.  Why not just have a girls’ night out instead?”

Sarah twisted her face in a fake smirk.  “Just because I want to see Johnny doesn’t mean we won’t have fun.  Ever since starting that fairy business of yours, you haven’t taken enough time to spend with people.  You know, people.  Not the kind who are customers, but people.”  Sarah smacked her bubble gum.  “Besides, you didn’t earn the nickname Foxy for nothing.  Snag a guy at the reunion.  Have a little fun.  I bet some of the men there’ll think you’re a knockout with your red hair.”

Later in the week while at the reunion, Val and Sarah stayed together for awhile until Sarah saw Johnny.  Just as Val predicted, Sarah talked with Johnny Rosencratz all night.  For the first half hour or so Val was left alone.  She was utterly bored, and kept checking her watch.  Most of the other people at the reunion wore fake grins, and nobody spoke with her.  Those who did strike up a conversation were people Val didn’t like in the first place.  Everybody hung out in the same cliques as when they were younger.

She crossed the large auditorium and dipped a plastic ladle into the punch bowl.  Turning to snatch a piece of cake along with the punch, Val saw a man with black hair standing near the entrance to the auditorium.  She didn’t remember him.  Wondering who he was, she carried the punch and cake toward where he stood.  The man was alone, and he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

When she was within earshot, Val introduced herself.  I’m Val Fox.  Although I’m sure you must have attended school here and were in my class, I don’t recognize you.  What’s your name?” she said while balancing the little plate and cake in the same hand as the punch so she could offer the man a handshake.  His palm was sweaty as he gripped hers.

He shook her hand firmly and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Val Fox.  I’m Robert Murrel.  I attended school here, but I graduated from East.  My family moved midway through my junior year, so I went to East my senior year.”  Robert’s eyes darted to a group of former football players across the room.  “I suppose this really isn’t the right class reunion to attend since I didn’t graduate from West, but I’m an insurance agent and figured maybe I could network a little for potential clients.”  He pointed at the lopsided piece of cake Val held.  “That looks good.  I think I’ll have some.”

Val wasn’t sure if referencing the football players was Robert’s way of excusing himself from speaking with her any longer, but he gave her the vibes that her conversation was welcome.  He smiled as she tagged along with him back to the cake table.  She cleared her throat and said, “Whoever cut the cake sure mangled it.”

Robert laughed and grasped the ladle to the punchbowl, fixed himself a beverage, and took a piece of cake before pointing toward an empty table nearby.  “Let’s sit,” he said.  “I dunno about you, but standing in uncomfortable shoes has to be the worst thing in the world.  I finally broke down and bought a new pair, and they’re not completely broken in yet.”  Val ate her cake without saying much because her mouth was full.  She listened to Robert talk about the differences between attending East and West.  He wore an orange polo-style shirt and a pair of khaki Dockers.  Every now and again Val caught herself glimpsing at his black, leather belt.  A kidnapping fantasy formed in her mind.

This was why her relationships never worked out.  Val always fixated on men with nice belts.  She imagined them using a belt on her while she lay bound and submissive to them.  In reality, the men with the nice belts were either too shy in bed to try what she wanted, or they insisted on always slating her as a submissive.  Val was a true switch.  She liked using the wonderful leather on a man as much as she liked being on the receiving end of a good punishment.  Val could handle vanilla sex.  What she couldn’t handle was a man who stuck a label on her and then expected her to always take the same role.  She didn’t care if the role was in bed, on the job, or in the home.  That’s why she started The Fairy Store.  Val needed to create her own destiny.

“Are you okay?” Robert said.  “You’re kinda not paying attention to me.  I just asked you a question.”  His cup of punch was nearly drained, and the cake missing.

“Oh, sorry.  I just got lost in my thoughts for awhile.” Val wondered if her face was flushed.  Her slit was wet with the beginnings of a fantasy with this man.  His belt was still in the front of her mind when she said, “I’m not going to stay here for very long.  If you want to meet up with me later or leave with me and do something else, I’m cool with that.  The friend who accompanied me here ditched me.  There’s nobody else I intend to talk with.  If you want to razzle dazzle some potential clients since you just got here, I understand.  I’m a business owner myself.”

Robert swallowed the last few drops of punch in the paper cup before he said, “I think leaving with you sounds like more fun than talking to a bunch of people I don’t know.  Nobody really wants to be sold insurance at a reunion anyway.”

The first time Robert tried physical intimacy with a woman after Lilly’s curse was when he hooked up with a friend who’d been a former fuck buddy.  “Do you wanna hook up tonight for old time’s sake,” Nadia said during a random phone call one day.

“What do you mean by hook up?  A round of beer?  A night of dancing?  Be more specific,” he said.  Robert loved goading Nadia.

“Hook up, hook up.  I need a good lay.  You know how we used to be fuck buddies before I met Joe.  He and I broke up over six months ago, and I need to release some tension,” she said.  Nadia sounded like she was chewing gum as she talked.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.  You know where to find me.”  Robert wondered if Nadia was wearing anything.  It had been awhile since he last saw her, and she normally meant business when discussing sex.  He wondered why she and Joe broke up, but he didn’t ask.  Why ruin her desire to have a friendly fuck?

“How are you doing?” George Peter asked.  Everyone called him G.P.

“Not too bad,” Robert said as he helped G.P. carve an ornate figurine that would eventually be part of a cuckoo clock.  Woodworking was the only thing he truly enjoyed doing with his father.  They’d never really bonded over things like fishing, hunting, or sports, but woodworking was G.P.’s business.  Ever since Robert was a young boy, he recalled how proud his father always seemed after he’d created anything nice out of wood.  Robert reached across the table to grab a carving tool.

“I heard from what you told your mother that one of your clients attacked you the other day.”  G.P. continued working on his own ornate piece as he spoke.  G.P. wasn’t a man of many words.  Whenever he worked on a project with his son, however, the words seemed to flow more freely.

“Attacked isn’t really the right word,” Robert said as he scraped a light line with his knife into the wing of the cuckoo bird.  Pine wasn’t his favorite wood, but his father had insisted this clock be solid pine except for the gears and other metal pieces.

“Then what would you call it?”  G.P. asked.  He stopped carving and manually sanded a rough spot on the side of the unpainted pendulum.  It would eventually hang from the bottom of the clock.

“My client threw some stuff but she wasn’t violent or anything.”  Robert tried not to sound defensive, but he was pretty sure his efforts weren’t working.

G.P.’s sanding took on a more elbow grease as he said, “A boy like you should take a few classes in conflict resolution.  Going to school is good for a businessman such as you.  I’m sure you must deal with potential situations before the clients get out of hand.”

Rather than argue with his father, Robert continued working the pine into the fully formed bird.  G.P. was usually right about most things, but Robert wasn’t a little boy anymore.  He didn’t like being told how to live his life.  He tentatively agreed to look into the cost of attending a conflict resolution course, doubting he’d actually enroll. Why bother?  Customers would show anger when claims were denied.  No class would change the fact he’d never be able to please everyone all the time.  The customer wasn’t always right, regardless of what customers believed.

Robert held the cuckoo up for his father’s approval.  “What do you think, Pop?”

“Looks good, my boy.  Might be the best bird you’ve carved yet.  It’s really unique.”

G.P. said the same thing every time Robert asked about one of his carvings.  Every one was Robert’s best carving in his father’s eyes.  In G.P.’s overly vocal opinion, Robert’s skills were as good as his own, but Robert knew better.  Carving was only a hobby for him.  For G.P. it was his whole livelihood.  No one would ever be as good a woodworker as G.P.

A few days later Robert munched on a bagel while sitting behind his office desk.  Between bites, he glanced at the clock and continued reading the daily newspaper.  The obit wasn’t anything the average Joe would find eye-catching, but Robert’s eyes were glued on Philip’s photograph as he read about the death.  The obituary didn’t say Philip committed suicide, but there were rumors swirling about town he strangled himself with a rope while away on business.  Within hours, Lilly would walk through the door to the agency’s office and begin the process of reporting Philip’s death, starting the insurance claim.  Robert’s battery powered clock ticked on the wall almost as loudly as his heartbeat felt as it drummed in his ears while anticipating her arrival.  He finished the bagel and wiped the cream cheese from the corners of his mouth before finishing an email to her.  Robert didn’t want a scene in front of the Joneses, so he purposefully scheduled Lilly’s appointment for the last slot of the day.  He had a few good sales leads lined up earlier in the afternoon and late morning.

The Joneses and the Ulbeks led to a few decent commission checks for the month.  Both clients were unusually easy sales, and Robert whistled during the down time between his lunch and the next appointment.  Four o’clock rolled by more quickly than he anticipated while he dealt with the other clients.

After Lilly was twenty minutes late for her appointment, Robert packed up his paperwork from earlier in the day, shoving the sheets into his briefcase.  Everyone else in the office already left for the day, so he was alone.  The thought crossed his mind that he should call Lilly before giving up on her, but judging from the description her next door neighbor, who happened to be Robert’s boss, had given him earlier in the afternoon of her appearance these last few days, he didn’t want to cross paths with Lilly any more than was necessary.  The way he had mentioned her, Charlie seemed to half expect her to foam at the mouth like a rabid dog.  Everyone connected to the insurance company was of the opinion she had killed Philip but staged it to appear like a suicide, including Robert.  She was more than just a fling gone bad.  He feared Philip’s death could ruin his career if she ever were convicted of murder and spewed venom against him in public regarding the circumstances under which the policy was sold.

He rose from the desk, briefcase in hand, when he heard a car-door slam outside.  About a minute later the oak door to the office opened with a violent swing followed by a crisp slam as Lilly stormed into the agency.  Robert was sure the doorknob dented the wall as she flung the door open.  His gut clenched, realizing there was no way to avoid talking to her that day.

“You told me the five hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy would pay out if my husband died.”  Lilly’s mouth formed an elongated, rugged oval as she gritted her teeth at the end of the sentence.  Robert wasn’t accustomed to seeing her lips without her tell-tale burgundy lipstick.  Her entire face lacked make-up, and her skin looked pale even though the tone in her voice sounded as angry as a bull during a Spanish bullfight.  Speechless, Robert stood in the doorway of his part of the office while she shoved him aside to stand flush in the center of the room.

“You haven’t filed the claim yet,” Robert said.  “I can’t tell you whether or not the policy will pay.  You’ll have to complete the paperwork and submit it to the home office for review by our claims department.”

“You lied to me.  You didn’t explain the fine print,” she said.  Lilly’s words rang in Robert’s ears as she spat bile into his face.  What he told her when selling the life insurance policy was correct.  The point of purchasing life insurance was for the policy to pay out to the beneficiary upon a person’s passing.  This particular life insurance policy, however, had a suicide clause stating if a person committed suicide in the first two years of the policy, it wouldn’t pay more than three times the premium paid in.  Robert secretly doubted it would pay the five hundred thousand dollars to Lilly because Philip hadn’t even written out the first check for the premium as far as Robert knew.  It hadn’t even gone into force at the time Philip died.  Neither Lilly nor Philip told Robert he was suicidal when he gave the sales pitch and then later sold the policy.

Without sitting or filling out the claim paperwork, Lilly reached into her purse and said, “I curse you for your lies.  May you lose your ability to fuck women over, you lying sack of shit,” Lilly said.  She threw a handful of a powder-like substance into Robert’s face, momentarily blinding him.  “May you only be able to get aroused when you deceive the woman you’re seducing.”  She tossed another handful of the stuff at Robert.  Her aim was poor on the second throw, and it landed on Robert’s torso.  His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and the powder puffed out onto his stomach.  The room smelled a little like powdered sugar mixed with saffron.  The powder was light orange, and it was the consistency of cigarette ash.

With an animalistic half rubbing and half scratching motion, Robert’s hands touched his eyes in rapid movements.  If he could have flushed them out right away with water, he would have stumbled toward the sink in the break room, but the powder disoriented him.  His eyes watered as if she’d thrown acid in them.  Robert didn’t know what the substance was she’d thrown into the air and into his face, but his eyes hurt like hell.  His skin burned as the substance penetrated the fibers of his button-down dress shirt and suit pants.  He dropped the briefcase until the blurriness in his eyes subsided.  Robert’s vision returned slowly, in phases, as his eyes flushed the foreign material away.  What on earth was in his eyes and on the midsection of his body?

He wasn’t sure what had been in her hand until much later.  Through an educated guess after reading articles on the Internet, Robert concluded months later that Lilly’d thrown fairy dust at him.  After the stinging in his eyes subsided, Lilly was already gone.  Robert rubbed his eyes while contemplating what the ramifications of the curse would mean.  Perhaps it was all an idle threat.  After all, he hadn’t meant her any harm when selling the insurance policy, nor did he think their fling would amount to much of anything.  Lilly was the one who said over and over again she didn’t intend to divorce Philip.  Did curses only work if the person on the receiving end actually meant malice upon the person who uttered the curse?

Chapter One (A Cross Post from jenbluekissederotica.blogspot.com)

“I can’t divorce Philip,” Lilly said as she unbuttoned Robert’s pants.  “We have a prenuptial agreement that would screw me out of just about everything I own.”  She unzipped his fly while looking up at his face; her almond shaped eyes glinted when the light hit her green irises.  “But I can thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”  Lilly knelt at his feet, the insurance policy on the floor next to her.  She raised her hand onto the quad muscles of Robert’s leg while looking up at his slicked back, meticulously styled black hair.

“You’re my favorite kind of client.”  He had given up hope of selling her husband, Philip, a life insurance policy once he found out she wanted to use him to cheat on her husband.  Robert wasn’t sure how, but she enticed Philip to sign the application for life insurance anyway.  Lilly had a power over men Robert didn’t understand, and he wasn’t about to risk a sale to find out how she convinced Philip to buy the insurance policy.  He had never slept with a client before, but there was something about Lilly drawing him to her.  Her long, wild curls brushed against the leg of Robert’s dress pants as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks.  He watched her in the antique mirror hanging above her bed.  The site of her mouth pressed against his pants was dizzying.

“Philip’s your client, not me.  Don’t fear mixing business and pleasure.”  She released the waist of Robert’s pants.  They puddled around his ankles over his newly polished shoes with graceless elegance, leaving Robert’s firm lower abs exposed.  “But I have to admit that you could sell a man his own right hand for a good price.”  She smiled at him from her subservient position on the floor.  Lilly pressed her nose against the cotton of his boxers, nudging his cock.  Robert’s own tanned body in the mirror pleased him.  Just for kicks, he flexed his bicep for her while watching his reflection.  “You’re so vain,” she said, taunting him into punishing her.

Robert imagined the last time he had been with her, and he knew what she wanted.  He finished undressing while she continued to kneel before him.  Using his necktie as a makeshift rope, he tied her wrists so her hands were behind her back as soon as he undressed her.  Then Robert pulled her long mass of brown curls into a ponytail before clipping the end of her hair to the necktie around her wrists.  The effect was that her head was cocked back so she was forced to look up at him while she knelt.  “You shouldn’t call me vain,” Robert said, pinching her nipple.  Lilly closed her eyes as he rolled the tender flesh between his fingers.
A soft murmur escaped her lips.  “I know what vain looks like.”

Bending down beside her, Robert picked her husband’s life insurance policy off of the floor.  Robert wondered how much time the ink had to dry between Philip’s signature on the page and Lilly’s affair with him.  The paper was white, crisp, and unfolded.  Her husband’s signature read yesterday’s date, but he wasn’t convinced Philip really signed it that long ago.  Robert held the papers in front of her face.  “You naughty woman, fucking around on your husband after convincing him to buy life insurance from me.  You’re wicked.  You know that?”  He licked his finger and then nudged it against her pink, moist slit.  She sighed when Robert avoided her clit.

Lilly’s eyes twinkled when she looked up.  He held the insurance contract under her chin with his other hand.  “You’re gonna suck my dick and then swallow every drop I give you so we don’t get any semen on this paperwork, do you understand?”  Robert couldn’t wait to watch her struggle when she took the entire thing in her mouth.

Lilly blinked twice in rapid succession, obeying the rules.  Once she was bound, Robert didn’t permit her to speak.  She opened her mouth in a large O.  He followed the line of her gaze to see what she would see if he denied her his cock.  The antique crystal chandelier above her must have cost a small fortune.  In additional to the gold trim and silver details, the chandelier held ten white candles.  It caught the light in what appeared to be a thousand tiny reflections of their naked bodies.  “Keep your eyes open and look at the chandelier,” he said.  “You know how much I enjoy watching your eyes water as you submit to me in your throat.”

He hesitated to give Lilly his cock.  Instead, he took the signature page of the insurance contract and dropped it onto the floor before scooting it between her knees.  “Your job is to get wet for me, but not so wet that you drip onto Philip’s signature.”  Then he began to finger her clit.  She let out a short sigh followed by a longer one as he teased her little, fleshy nub.  As he touched her, Robert noticed how Lilly had to arch her back as a result of how he bound her hair to her hands with the necktie.  The ponytail clipped to her wrists was the perfect pose to tickle her, but he refrained.  Instead, Robert knelt and then bent over, licking along her slit.  She was already wet from the danger of having to explain the mussed up insurance paperwork.  They were using Philip’s copy.  The company’s duplicate was neatly tucked away in Robert’s leather briefcase.  He liked a little fun, but he wasn’t stupid enough to use the one the home office required.

“Good.  I have to help you by lapping up your juices before we begin.”  Robert licked along her parted pussy lips but avoided contact between his tongue and her clit.  After Lilly’s breathing became heavier, he returned to standing above her.  Holding the first page of the insurance policy under her chin again, Robert worked his cock between her thin, O shaped lips.  Lilly talked incessantly when they weren’t role playing, so he groaned with satisfaction as he pushed his cock past her teeth, past her tongue, and then into her throat.  She didn’t disappoint.  Robert held his cock there until he felt the sensation of her humming on his skin.  The violent, little jerks around his cock as she gagged delighted him.

Robert eased back, allowing Lilly to breathe while he pinched her firm, brown nipple with his free hand.  Her breaths sounded in loud rasps through her nose before he slipped down her throat again.   She only gagged once this time, as her body became accustomed to the intrusion of his solid flesh.  The hair at the base of his cock brushed against Lilly’s nose as he held himself as deeply within her mouth as he could.  Robert wanted his balls inside her mouth too, but she wasn’t capable yet of mastering that skill.  He stopped pinching her nipple to touch her cheek.  The buzzing began around his cock as Robert listened to her muffled request for air.  He held his cock in her throat anyway.

Robert was close to coming.  Not wanting her to immediately inhale what he was about to give her, he said, “I need to stay here a little longer.”

Lilly lightly pressed her teeth against his penis.  She needed air.  Her teeth pressed against the base of his cock a little harder as he groaned.  She would bite him if he made her resort to it.

He retreated into the middle of her mouth.  While listening to the frantic inhaling through her nose, he said, “Be ready for it.”  His cock went down her throat again but not all the way.  He purposely thrust at the area he knew would trigger Lilly to gag.  As her eyes sent tears down her face from the successive gagging, Robert withdrew his cock so that it was barely inside her mouth.  He loved watching her taste his semen.  The sensation of release was priceless.  He wished he could draw the orgasm out so it lasted longer, but his body responded in its own time.

She swallowed every drop.

“Good woman,” Robert said before removing his dick.  He faced her and knelt, kissing down Lilly’s neck to her chest.  Repressing the urge to make a face, he tasted the perfume she must have applied right before the visit.  It tasted like orange peels and caster oil.  He sucked liberally on her nipple while caressing Lilly’s pussy with his fingertips.  She wasn’t on birth control, so he had to be careful what course of action he chose next.  Robert wanted his cock to feel the tightness of her pussy, but he doubted she wanted him to enter her with the pregnancy risk, so he didn’t consider recovering from the oral sex for some real sex.  He wasn’t against using a condom, and the moans escaping her lips while Robert caressed her deeply told him to just continue what he was doing.  “Remember not to drip,” he said, knowing she had no more control over her slickness than he did over his erections.  Robert reached for the insurance paperwork, scooting it away from the direct path of her pussy.  Since Lilly was forced to stare at the ceiling, he deceived her without really ruining her fantasy.

He couldn’t help but think Lilly must really hate her husband.  That thought kept creeping through Robert’s mind as he brought her to climax.  One thing Robert knew for sure was he didn’t ever want to make an enemy of her.  No way, no how.  Anybody who fantasized about dripping on her husband’s life insurance policy had to be wicked.  As her moan progressed into outright begging for him not to stop the caress, Robert wondered if she intended to murder Philip for the insurance money.  If that was her intent, he didn’t want to know about it until after it happened.
Oddly, Robert felt used, like a puppet in some sinister plan.  Plus, he didn’t want any accusations of collaborating with Lilly to commit insurance fraud.  The little voice in his head had been screaming to him ever since he met Lilly not to have anything to do with her, but he chose not to listen to his conscience.  A good insurance lead was a good insurance lead.  Robert knew he had no way of knowing if she’d forced Philip to buy the policy.  He didn’t really know what Lilly and Philip’s relationship was like except that Lilly was having an affair at the moment with him.

I have two categories of sexual fantasy: my own fantasies (whether just to stay in my mind or to act out) and those I write in my stories on jenbluekissederotica.blogspot.com, ravenousromance.com, and in my longer works in progress as a writer of fiction. Both categories of fantasy are fun, but very different at the same time.

In my personal fantasies, I tend to envision scents, textures, and emotions. I set up a scene in which I’m the submissive and usually have to endure something until my master gives me permission to either stop enduring it or to orgasm. Usually there’s lots of pain involved. In real life, there’s also gobs of trust involved in whatever sexy situation I find myself in. There’s always a happy ending in my personal fantasies and very few complications. I don’t spend much time thinking and picturing how long it takes to tie complicated rope work or set up in general, which in a good scene can take a long time to ensure consent and safety.

As a writer of fiction, however, there are other considerations that seldom enter into my own personal fantasies. The chief of these is what can go wrong. Conflict drives good fiction. I like to complicate the sexual situations the characters find themselves in. There are many things I fantasize about when writing fiction that I would never want to have happen in my personal fantasies or in my real life. A few examples:

In “I’m Always So Damned Cold,” there is a scene in which Josia learns that Kevin’s love of using handcuffs on her is deeply rooted in his past while in prison. She has no idea if he’s truly violent as a person or was wrongly accused. This story is posted on jenbluekissederotica.blogspot.com for free. I’m a firm believer in freebies.

In “The Kitchen Table,” which is part of the Ambrosia Anthology available at http://www.ravenousromance.com/modern-love/ambrosia-stories-of-passion-and-appetite.php

there is a scene that involves furniture bondage, spanking, and the protagonist’s ex-mother-in-law. I wouldn’t wish that scene on anyone, but it was fun to write. I like my kinky sex to be quirky.

Just a quick post, got a couple of nice pics to share. I had a bit of fun with my boy, our first session of genital weight endurance.

Here we are testing how much he can take.

Both bottle are almost fully filled with water.

I later weighed them, they were 4 pounds.

Now this is where the fun began…unfortunately don’t have full body pics I can post for privacy reasons. But now that we established a good “painful” weight I moved the game to the next step with a bit of predicament bondage. Here is how I did this game: hands cuffed behind back. Weights are tied to genitals where they touch the floor with legs spread wide but if legs are brought close the weights get pulled off the floor. And for added precaution you don’t want the sub to bend the legs so I attached nipple clamps on the nipples and tied the chain to a rope pulling above his head. So if he bent down this would pull on the nipple painfully.

How does my boy respond to

such treatment from his mistress?

See for yourself

Mystress Lady Evyl

x-post from Lady Evyl

No, I am not talking about needle play. I am talking about another craft gone fetish: Knitting! Yes you read it right. Yes I can knit and crochet. Another way to corrupt my crafty gift.

A member of my Fetlife groug, BDSM Toy Craft Corner, posted about a naughty knitting book coming out and asked if anyone already had kinky knitting projects to share until she recieved her online order book. Well that occupied most of my Sunday afternoon on Google: searching for the BDSM knitting Holy Grail. Let me share some of my finds with you:

Click on the image to bring you to the page with the pattern instructions.

Great for those on the poor side who need to make kinky gifts! Happy knitting

Mystress Lady Evyl