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The Cozy Spot



4 posts categorized "bdsm"

January 11, 2006

The Good Girl

t goes without saying, in order to look the part so as to snare the apple of one’s eye or radiate appeal, one needs to purchase the right attire. Money here, money there and while one doesn’t have to be a millionaire, one does need a decent pair of shoes, nice lingerie and these things, feature their own price tags.
As I pondered these things, the fluorescent lights illuminated the afternoon batch of homemakers making their way into the manchester aisle. K-Mart, a fun workplace most times, provided a modest income and a great conversation starter and my cousin Joanne‘s kitchen tea. Barry Manilow confessed that he couldn’t smile without me over the speakers and the shoppers continued. I walked through the aisles, picked up towels that toddlers discarded on the floor, tidied up sheets and kept an eye out for potential shoplifters.
Mild, helpful and quiet. These three words summed me up and passersby, each shopper, regarded me with the same nonchalance they offered the checkout operators.
‘How are you today,’ said the operator for the billionth time, possibly resurrecting the juicy details of the previous night’s shenanigans - if there were any.
‘Good, you?’ replied the shopper, with a monotonous tone that translated to, ‘Just scan this shit, I want to go and grab a coffee at Starbucks before the kids finish school.’
The shift gradually ends and I change into my civvies.
Three hours are spent sweating in the gym, then it’s home to say hello to the housemates, take a bath and possibly get reacquainted with myself.
The day job satisfied my friends, many of whom shared the journey through elementary and high school. They didn’t mind the job, I didn’t mind it either but it became a stickling point whenever I turned up at blind dates.
‘Oh he’s a lawyer, a doctor, an engineer…’ my friends exclaimed.
I’d attend these dates, mere smudges in time and place, and ultimately return, alone, to my comfortable surroundings.
‘What do you do?’ they’d purr, in their masculine voices.
‘I work in K-Mart,’ I’d say, and it presents a facet of truth - one facet among many in the iced fiery stone that is me.
A perverted bitch, I got a kick out of their shock and it’s always so much sweeter after they’ve placed the food order with the waiter. It gets pricey in five star restaurants. Each date nods and smiles, their eyes glimmer with frustration. I can picture my friend Cynthia telling them I work in a boutique or as a store representative prior and their infernal ire once the truth emerges.
‘Perplexed, she struggles to comprehend why each blind date fails to get to third base with me. I’m such a prize, healthy and exercised. According to Cynthia, they’re all fruit loops when the reality is that they cannot stomach the idea of being with someone beneath them unless it’s beneath their supposedly manly chest and throbbing cock for the night.


~~

‘You will write it one hundred times on the blackboard Joseph…’
‘Yes Miss…’
He slowly walks toward the blackboard, in his grey shorts and white short sleeved shirt. His bald pate is covered with a straw hat and white knee high socks adorn his muscled calves.
‘I will not speak out of turn. One hundred times Joseph, do it!’
His hand slowly reaches out and his thumb and index finger grip a piece of yellow chalk like pincers. He presses the end of the chalk against the blackboard and it snaps in two.
Whoop-Whoop.

Continue reading "The Good Girl" »

December 29, 2005

Fun to be Bound, Bound to be Fun - Endurance - Part 2

Your skin glides against mine and my tongue tastes the cotton sash between my lips. The fabric between my lips loosens, your hands pull the fabric down and my tongue finally tastes the remnants of champagne on your tongue. I realize, at this point, that you operate on instinct. This realization dawned the moment I felt your hands squeeze my waist on the balcony. Perhaps you realized this as you gazed at my still, silent body. Despite the silence, you also caught a glimpse of my usually invisible barrier that I clothe myself with from time to time. Your lips and tongue slide down the centre of my neck, and began to slowly trace my torso’s every contour, moistening and caressing each hollow and curve as I wriggle underneath your rising heat and rigid erection.

It’s as you gulp down a generous portion of my left breast that each molecule of air exists my lungs and mouth. The sound I hear, a low rumbling groan, belongs to me and this excites you all the more. Rampant caresses follow and my eyes blindly seek an image of your hands as I feel your boisterous, firm hands. Your fingers slide down my torso, reach my hips and stop to briefly and decisively grasp my flesh like pincers. Your mouth leaves mine, as do your fingers and all I’m left with is your musky scent which is tinctured with the minerals from your pores. I’d call out, make a point or ask you what the plan is but you replace the cotton cloth, tying it firmly around my head. My tongue tastes the fabric once against and I almost cough but find I’m distracted as I feel the introductory slide of your tongue along the junction of my right inner thigh and pubis. The moist trail continues, right to the other side as your tongue smoothly feels its way along flesh that screams out for pleasure.
Your panting breath warms my vulva, stirring each minute hair shaft. The warm breeze licks my inner thighs, fanning them for a short interval. I then feel your fingers slowly peel me apart with the same care one reserves for a budding rose. Each warm air molecule escaping your mouth meets my inner damp coat of desire and as you exhale, the now gushing river clashes against each air molecule. As the two meet, they alert the soft skin between my thighs and this soft barrier alerts the next cell, which manages to tickle other electric bundles.
My forearms tremble and my bound wrists slide along the warmed chrome railing. Your serpentine tongue, slick and moist, lubricates the inner groove of my vulva, liberally slathering it with your warm saliva. As you burrow within my inner and outer labia and hum in tune to your sliding motion, your vocal chords reveal your arousal through a series of low rumbling moans.
‘I can tell you’re enjoying this,’ your voice murmurs. The sound seems distant yet closer than close, in fact so near that you’re practically within the needy undulating tunnel of my snatch. Your lips casually brush my entrance while your robust tongue slithers inside me. You’re almost half way inside but are implicitly aware that a shallow slide works best and offers more by way of elevating my core temperature. Each hand grasps my thighs, effectively restraining their need to tremble, run or thrash against the mattress in a bid to tackle the rising white hot inferno within me. Heat breaks out above my lip, along my forehead and between my breasts. This warmth is the precursor of the wet trail that’ll cloak my skin, causing me to shiver as I feel the initial smooth stretch as your fingers take me over and proceed to tunnel their way into me before they slowly slide out, meet the air and remain distant as my pelvis involuntarily sways, gyrates and bucks up and down to unravel a tantrum of febrile proportions just so the pulsating inner walls of my slit can be sated once and for all.

~~


In the centre of the room, a room like any other, I lie on my left side in a semi foetal position. Each tendon within my shoulders feels the stretch as I slowly try to raise my shoulders off the ground to see your handiwork. The skin around my ankles feels the tight caress of brown leather restraints that bind my ankles together. The inner curves of my feet touch and I’m momentarily comforted by the warmth between my feet and thighs. Lowering my torso to the carpeted floor, my head meets the carpet and my eyes slowly close so I can relish my private moments as my mind returns to our first interlude and how you conveniently and deftly loosened the gag as my inner water broke and my brain quaked while the moist inner lining of your lips plundered my hot, bothered, clitoris.
This thought, added to many others, soothes my inner tremor. The door creaks open and I hear the hinges slightly creak and each hair follicle within my skin contracts so that gooseflesh covers my forearms and upper thighs.
‘Here she is…’
Like I’m not in the room.
‘Very nice. You’ve outdone yourself,’ says the first stranger, whose voice dips into a viscous sugary river.
‘Let me see,’ said the second man, somewhat skeptical, with a razor sharp bark.
Shutting my eyes, my ears and skin couldn’t run away to escape the nearing vibrations within the timber floorboards. Both men stopped directly in front of my body while you - my co-conspirator - walked ahead, stopping to stand behind them.
‘You can open your eyes, they won’t bite you…’ you said, your voice jumping over their heads to caress my ears.
I’m sure they won’t but the darker shadow within me hopes they do.

(to be continued)


~~

December 27, 2005

Fun to be Bound, Bound to be Fun - 'Endurance' (Part I)

'Endurance', the second helping along this theme is inspired by the more experienced male. He can be a satyr or anything else, basically someone who's been there, done that and who desires a highly intense interaction that is free from any hint of doubt or taboo. For me, he's the older male whom I shan't name, but he can be any seasoned male who has tasted edgier and/or darker sexual waters.


Fun to be Bound, Bound to be Fun - 'Endurance' (Part I)

It was on the beach, as I lay on my stomach, that I revealed the thought that captured my daily thoughts. Your hand busily applied the last dollop of cream, your fingers rubbing it into the small of my back, slightly above the cleft of my buttocks. I suppose the variety of males on the sand and in the salty blue waves sparked an old desire, the type that served my masturbatory needs. It was time to move onto the next level, or so I thought. In actuality, I sat on the fence.
‘More than one…’ I said, replying to your direct question asking me how many I desired. I couldn’t fix an exact number, but hungered for a continual gravy train of cock.
‘I didn’t quite catch that,’ you said, your fingers shifting down to pinch my left buttock, squeezing the flesh without a break.
‘A group of men…’
You nodded, smiling to yourself.
‘I’d like that very much. It would certainly please me to no end,’ you said.
From someone like you, who trod on the darker keys of desire, the idea lit your inner core whereas for me it resembled a simmering cauldron that released a tantalizing, yet enigmatic, vapor. I felt I had to catch up to you somehow, make you see that there were more facets to the serene female you met at a distant business function.

~~

In the beginning, as the curtain opened, right after the CEO’s thank you speech, your eyes explored the room. Your sultry brown orbs then met mine and I couldn’t turn away despite the dark glimmer behind your gaze. Like a roaring high tide of salt water, your aura commanded attention. I swam and landed in your net and as you extended your large hand, quietly nodding, as the introduction unfolded, my mind knew - as did my skin receptors - about you and where it would all eventually lead.
The conversation unraveled; a rhythmic wave cascaded as you smoothly swallowed the last few drops of your Veuve Cliquot. The celebratory bubbly tickled my nose and my skin buzzed when you set your hand on the small of my back and commandeered me toward the nearby balcony. People milled, mingled or stood, eating their way through nervousness but we followed the velvet black night.

Continue reading "Fun to be Bound, Bound to be Fun - 'Endurance' (Part I)" »

December 18, 2005

Fun to be Bound, Bound to be Fun

“You’ve got something about you
You’ve got something I need
Daughter of Aphrodite
Hear my words and take heed
I was born on Olympus
To my father a son
I was raised by the demons
Trained to reign as the one…
I’m the lord of the wastelands
A modern day man of steel
I gather darkness to please me
And I command you to kneel” - God of Thunder



Prelude:

Beneath his skin lies the sea of sexual magic that can only be tasted once the everyday barrier is removed and transplanted with lustful curiosity. His understated glance, as we sit a short distance apart, doesn’t proclaim any obvious desires or need for gratification. Large dusky brown eyes regard me with a mix of trepidation and probable lust. He’d like to see where it could head but is uncertain as to whether I’ll serve him lascivious dreams on a gilt platter. His nocturnal world is filled with faraway thoughts, dreams and moments filled with arduous raptures he mentally explores. I’m the same, lying or sitting down, traversing the realm that resonates with every erotic synapse within my satin lined pleasure zone.

It’s in the room, a faraway or improbable room but nonetheless a room that represents the world away from the structure of the everyday. It may only be around the corner, or within my house, anywhere that enables the exploration of the darker thoughts, dreams or fantasies that pierce our daily thoughts.


Lights, Camera…

We can smell the chemical concoction of desire and need from the moment we set foot in the room. You settle your sturdy frame on the edge of the bed while I pace the small-carpeted area between the bed and balcony. I think lewd thoughts, you think…
I tell you I want you, your eyes widen and your lips loosen.
‘You find that odd?’ Some things continue to amaze me; one of those things is your modesty or naiveté. You remain silent but your hand strays to your crotch, and like a curious feline who doesn’t miss a beat, my eyes catch the subtle movements of your fingers as they casually brush against your clothed cock.
Your smile, a knowing grin, has the capacity of undoing my structured logic. It’s true, my eyes reveal the very depth of my desire but this wanton need has no association with your stupendously handsome face and commanding body that can if it so desired, pin me apart like a mounted butterfly.
Fucking you, you screwing me is too easy. So say my eyes as they slide over your body. Holding out one hand in wait, I glance at your long tanned fingers and ignore your gesture.

‘Come over here,’ you softly request, glancing at the very mouth you once had the pleasure of tasting for many hours. Time faded back then. In the lunar draped night, our tongues licked away all traces of time, rules and everyday cares. We ran away from our very own desired destination. As I casually eye your blossoming erection, I’m reminded of the hunger and it returns. My groin shudders as you recline, using your elbows for leverage. Your shoulders rise as your elbows meet the mattress. It’s not our bodies, but our eyes that prowl the room, as they stalk each other while the static between us crackles.

Kneeling, hovering over you, my shoulders brush against yours. My lips part and remain thus for a short interval. Perhaps this reveals the pulsating urge that threatens to splinter my psyche. There are no moments before this moment because no one is like you. I won’t verbally divulge this to you but each action will, at best, illustrate the extent of my lust, fixation, obsession or whatever else you care to call it.

Continue reading "Fun to be Bound, Bound to be Fun" »

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