Tag Archive for Written for you

Dressing slutty, a recording

I received a compliment from a new reader this week, and this is my thank-you gift to him. Thanks, sexy stranger, for the inspiration.

This is just as you wrote it, Americanized and with a few edits. Enjoy. 😉

 

Dublin

The Bar

Your birthday

Although I so want it, I’m having trouble visualizing the specifics of this one. Here goes.

 

You sent us the invitation by email, almost jokingly.

“Come meet me,” you said mentioning a nice hotel downtown. “Room 909. I’ll be waiting. Wear as little as possible.”

She and I meet in the lobby. I’ve been sitting at the bar with a glass of wine, wondering if you are watching from afar. Imagining your face.

When I see her – she’s unmistakable – I abandon my wine and head slowly toward her.

We hug, kiss on the cheek, like old friends. She’s in a short black dress, a gray sweater, and knee-high black boots. She’s beautiful.

“Should we go upstairs, or do you want a drink first?” I ask. We are both a little anxious to discover what we’ve gotten ourselves into.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she says, cheerful, breathy. “Room 909, right?” she asks.

I nod. We head to the elevator. I half expect to find you waiting inside. You’re not.

We get out on the ninth floor – You’re not in the hallway, either – and turn right, heading down the hall. The hotel is lovely. It’s so nice that I feel a little guilty for being here under these circumstances.

We find the door slightly ajar. She pushes the door open and we go inside, expecting you to greet us. The room is large, with a huge picture window overlooking the glowing nighttime city. There is a king-sized bed, a desk, a lounge chair in the corner, a mini bar. Music oozes from the speakers. Everything we need except you. You are strangely absent.

I close the door behind me, and we stand still for a moment, wondering what to do next. My phone buzzes, and I find that you’ve texted me.

“Make yourselves comfortable. Get undressed. Pour us some champagne.” I notice the bottle cooling on the counter of the mini bar. Three glasses sit next to it.

“I’ll be along soon,” you follow up. I show her the texts. We smile.

“Weird that he isn’t here,” I say. “After all, this is his birthday celebration.” We laugh. I take off my heels by the door, and briefly check the bathroom in case you’re hiding in there. I don’t find you behind the door, in the glass-walled shower, or in the enormous bathtub.

I head over to the dresser, and take off my dress, putting it away. I leave on my ivory lace bra and panties. She is already undressed, her black bra and lace thong outlining her curves, pronouncing them. She’s left on her boots, and is lying on her side on the bed with one leg at a right angle. She has her champagne glass in her hand. I want to take her picture like that, freeze her.

Just then my phone buzzes: “Put your heels back on,” your text says.

I do.

 

Listen

Listen to my body. Don’t ask me to tell you what I want, what I need.

Lie by me, both of us naked this time. Still yourself.

Feel your breath.

Put your hands on me while you give me your mind. Feel the heat building on my skin and the tension in my muscles. Mirror the heat and tension in your own body.

Run your hands up and down my body, over my calves, my thighs, my ass, my back. Grab my breasts, pinch the nipples. Make me gasp. Brush my pussy, feel its heat. Keep your hand there, still, gathering my wetness in your palm, still. Make me moan.

Drag one finger up inside me and feel how I am throbbing for you. Move only slightly and know that I want more. Mirror my panting. Feel that pleasure building in your fingertip, and feel the invisible cord that connects it to the tip of your rock hard cock. Burn for me as I burn for you.

Pull your finger out, dripping, and run it over my face. Make me see, feel, taste what you do to me. Grab my hands, hard but not painfully, and pin them over my head. Always force me, never hurt me. Listen to my body. It will show you how.

Do you like this position? Yes? Tie me. Do it loosely. I don’t want to hurt. I want to be wherever, however you like.

Return your hand to my pussy. Rub, enter, thrust harder now until I have to move with you. Are you hungry for me? Trust your hunger. Taste me gently, use your whole tongue, flat against my lips, then drag the tip to my clit and press hard. Feel the way. My body will show you. Use your pleasure as a guide. Eat me like you are starving. Cry out. Get lost inside me. Your pleasure is my pleasure.

I’ll be crying out by now; let my cries guide you. Can you hear me with your cock? Is it answering my cries with its throbs? If yes, then it’s time. Move over top of me. Let me see your beautiful body, complete, about to be mine. Hear me shout fuck! Hear me scream yes! Hear me shout your name. Language is almost gone from me but I can manage that.

Answer me with a grunt. Deep, from your chest. Pin my arms again, not too hard. Don’t distract me, only make me know I’m yours. Splay my legs apart with yours and — quickly now, no more waiting — plunge your cock inside me.

Our pleasure will be so intense that the world will be obliterated. Thrust inside me now listening only to your own body. Trust that we feel the same thing. Breaths are gasps, skin is fire, nothing matters but the approaching explosions. Thrust as hard, soft, fast, slow as you like. Trust. It’s good. No, better than that. There will be only this. This.

Look at me. See my eyes, wanting you. See me smile. I’ve never felt like this before. No matter how many times we’ve done it before, no matter how many attempts at repetition, this time is singular.

Know. You. Are. Perfect. For an instant.

Then come. Come hard, don’t hold back. Own your pleasure and give it to me as a gift. Don’t breathe. Don’t speak. Just come. Let me feel your cock convulsing in delicious bursts inside me. And I will answer you with my own orgasm, so complete, so immense that I will shake from head to toe. I will moan and whimper unintelligibly because you have taken my words from me.

Don’t ask. Please don’t ever ask. Only feel. Only do and trust.

You are heavy

You’re the sandbag on my hot-air balloon, weighing me down. Keeping me.

Someday you may crush me.

You’re what I’m not, and you want what I am.

But right now I’m becoming, and I want to stay light. I want to sense you, to feel you. I want to touch you and be burned by your skin. That imprint should redden my hands long after you’re out of my mind. Your salty-sweet-bitter taste should linger on my tongue until you become usual to me, until you are pretzels, ice cream, a salad on a summer night. Your breath should remain hot on my neck until you are a scarf in winter.

I want to see you with my own eyes and know that you are real – see you looming over me, see the sun shining through your hair, see your dark shadow cast on the ground, see your eyes tearing me open. Please show me what I don’t already know. Let me learn from you, with my eyes and my hands. Show me passion’s exterior and trust that I will create its interior for you.

I will return to the earth filled with knowledge, bearing all the signs of you.

In time.

 

Let me

Let me know you or let me toy with you.

Allow me to empty you out piece by piece.

Please me, assuage me, fill me, replenish me.

Show me your desperate desire for me.

I want to own your body and your mind.

To teach you how it’s done.

To use you every and any which way.

I want you to wonder.
I want you to need.
I want you to ache.

Give me everything. All of you.

However I ask it of you, at my every whim.

I may disappoint you. Let me.

Let me fuck with you for fun.

This is definitely a dream of mine.

Wicked Wednesday... be inspired & share...

My toes

I just painted my toenails mermaid green. You’d like this color. While I painted them, I was wishing you were doing it for me. You know, in your undies.

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A hike at night

Returning from a shower at dusk, I hear our friends laughing at something as I approach them gathered around the glowing fire. My hair is still wet, and I’m wearing a knit dress and flip flops. As I pass, I toss my bag on the picnic table and move to join Mark by the fire.

“Let’s go for a hike,” he says, standing and reaching for my hand.

“Really?” I ask, slightly surprised, reaching for my flashlight. Turning to our friends, I ask, “Can you keep an ear out for the kids?”

“Yeah, sure,” Leah says. Mark and I move away from the fire, down the path and out into the purple dusk. We head left down the road, away from the other campsites and toward the grassy hiking trail.

As we leave the campground, Mark wraps his arm around me and pulls me up against him. It’s still warm although the sun just set, yet not so hot that I mind being close to him. We can hear music and laughter fade behind us, and the scent of woodsmoke hangs in the air.

“Where are we going?” I finally ask. It’s not like Mark to want to venture out into the woods at night.

“I don’t know,” he says, with just the slightest bit of mischief in his voice. Or maybe I’m imagining things. I have to admit, I’m in the mood to be surprised.

We walk in silence for a while. The rabbits are out on the path, looking for mischief, too, I think. Our flashlight catches their tails here and there as they lead the way down the path.

We are holding hands now, and Mark is holding tightly. I’m getting excited. Does he just want to be alone together for awhile, or will there be more? I’m hoping for more.

In the darkness we hear the night sounds of the woods around us: rustling, beating, soft hooting. Without presence of sun or moon, nature is strange to me. I’m not afraid but I am darkly curious.

After 20 minutes or so down the path, Mark stops. “Go hide,” he says, aiming the flashlight ahead to show me a small clearing in the trees. “I’ll find you in a few minutes.”

“What?” I ask, then quickly, “okay.” It’s the more that I was hoping for, so I’m in. I reach for the flashlight.

“No, I’ll need that to find you,” he says, serious.

“Alright,” I agree, hesitantly. It’s truly dark now, and the moon is nowhere to be found. I move into the clearing as Mark goes on down the path a bit. Once he’s gone, I walk slowly on the soft grass until I come to a tree with a split trunk, the kind that reminds me of a woman’s legs splayed in the air.

I lean against the tree, my ass in the split. The trunk is hard, its brittle bark scratching me through the thin knit of my dress. I’m alert. The air has cooled a bit and goosebumps rise on my skin, as much from anticipation as from the temperature.

I want this. Oh, do I want this. I laugh because Mark knows how much I want this. The night smells like new leaves, real dirt, and something else–animal. I can’t see, but I can feel the clearing around me, wide open beneath the starless sky, waiting.

A loud cry from a bird somewhere above starts my heart pounding. Here, there is an absence of human sound. Where is Mark, I wonder. Minutes pass. My eyes won’t adjust to this darkness. Small sounds are growing louder, but still no footsteps. The tiny rustling of mice in the brush, the swishing of leaves against each other in the light breeze distract me.

I am excited and I am scared. There’s no sign of Mark’s flashlight. What is he waiting for? To distract myself, I slip my hand under my dress. What else could he want but sex? So I rub myself gently through my panties until I’m wet. Still I don’t hear him or see any light. The tree bark claws at my back and I’m growing impatient.

Another loud caw from above throws me over the edge. Now I’m more afraid than excited. Then I feel him. His hands on my shoulders from behind. How did he find me without me noticing, without his flashlight?

“Are you ready?” he asks, low, his voice a growl. Then, “Yes, you are. I’ve been here watching the whole time.”

“You asshole!” I sort of shout, even though I love this. “I was scared!”

He comes around my split tree, pressing himself against me hard. “What? You liked it. I watched you.” He doesn’t wait. I can feel that he’s hard already, and he unzips his pants quickly and reaches one hand between my legs. He pulls aside my panties, and slips his cock inside me, pressing me even harder against the tree. The combination of the tension, the pain of the bark on my back, and the pleasure of his cock inside me explodes into an amazing orgasm. “Yes,” I moan, loud, and wrap my arms and legs around him. He fucks me slowly, gently, and kisses me. The clearing expands around us until it’s the whole world and we are the only two people in it.

Yes, this is exactly what I’ve been wanting.