Shopping list

I would like to have sex with someone else.

I would like them to lick my spine, from tailbone to nape of neck, to kiss and massage my shoulder blades. I would like them to bite my nipples, to run the lightest of fingers along the join between my breast and body, up the underside of my arm. I would like them to work up from my ankles, to have their body warm against my thighs as they focus on my calves, the back of my knees, fingers scouting ahead as their lips and tongue move along my legs. I would like them to grab my hips as they bury their face in my pussy.

I would like someone else to make my pelvis rock, to make me sigh, to make me yearn for more.

 

Advertisements

E-lust #75: The Denim ad, complicated fantasies, and a lonely back

Kilted WookiePhoto courtesy of Kilted Wookie

Welcome to E-lust #75!

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #76? Start with the rules, come back 1st November to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Is it hate? Am I a fraud?
On Rape Fantasy
Just Breathe

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

sex, surgery, celibacy
Sex, Death, and Squirting

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
On Filth

Erotic Non-Fiction

How I Became an Escort
I’m 2 and 0 for the season
He fights back
Hands On
The foodslut and the semifreddo…
The Photographer
Ex-Nazi girl: my hand on the back of her head
I Belong To You

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Disciplinary Drives
Surrender
On Filth
On sex positivity in public play
Cock Rings 101
A New Scene

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

The Fuck Feast Sexual Literacy Test
Sex Toys in Relationships — Yes, it’s OK.
Negotiating Power
Out of Touch
Don’t catfish: Be you.

Writing About Writing

On Jackie
Trigger Warnings (revisited)

Erotic Fiction

This would be fun
The Fucking Machine
Erotic Fiction…With Aura
A Little Romance
Domination Dreams
My Pretty Dead Ones
Crushed…

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humour

Five Hilarious Pieces of Anti-Sex Propaganda
19 Reasons to Cheat on Your Boyfriend

ELust Site Badge

E-lust #74 (featuring an empty bed)

Ginger nic1Photo courtesy of Switch Studies

Welcome to E-lust #74

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at E-lust. Want to be included in E-lust #75? Start with the rules, come back October 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Machine
She wanted to let the light in…
Reflections on the Male Nude

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Trudy
Is it play acting?

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
Can a Woman be a Good Mother and Write a Sex Blog

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Leaden Heart
Summer awakening
Our Kind Of Monogamy
If You’re Gonna Be A Thot Do It With Grace
Playing at Poly
I’m a-Lousy-Monogamist
Sharing the bed
The Couple and the Coquette
Four Love

Erotic Fiction

All Girls Night
Unresponsive Satisfaction
i don’t want realism, i want magic
A Stranger’s Tale
Motion Capture
Checking Southward
His Slave Heart

Erotic Non-Fiction

Sexy Riding
Relaxing
I noticed without paying attention
Humiliating an ex-Nazi submissive: sex slave
The End of a Rut
Rayne is a Fucktoy Cunt
Mindful Orgasm

Events

Five Reasons Woodhull Was an Amazing Experience

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Sex: Vegans, Carnivores, and Apex Predators

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Location, Location, Location
Seven Dimensions of Dominance
Light That Fire: Motivational Tools

When A BDSM Scene Ends Abruptly

Writing About Writing

You Down With OPT?
Cover Me
ELust Site Badge

The woman behind the mask

A good while ago now, the wickedly wonderful Oleander Plume shared a bunch of her story prompts, throwing down the challenge for us to write something based on one of them.

I was really quite disappointed that Superheroes Engaging In A (Metaphorical) Pissing Contest wasn’t one of them, although that’s more because I have visions of Maria Hill turning out to be me in disguise and offering her services as an impartial judge.

But it was another of the prompts, Backstage Pass, that tied in very nicely with a fantasy that came out of the cocktail- and whisky-fuelled talk with The Chap after my participation in the Brighton Fringe.

So, ladies and gentlemen, take your seats and prepare to revel in The Woman Behind The Mask…


With their masks and carefully styled to match hair, it had been difficult to tell the dancers apart, but Neil recognised Tara from the way she tilted her head and flicked her hips. Wearing the silver and black sequined troupe costume, cut to give the impression of legs up to there and a cleavage about to escape, toying with the crowd, letting loose the performer Neil had only suspected was within her, Cabaret Tara was a hundred miles from Everyday Tara. Those small gestures were almost the only thing about her he did recognise.

<snip>


Yes, there was once a full story here. It’s come down because it’s going to be published! In a book!

Did I mention how brilliant Oleander is? She and the equally fantastic F.Leonora Solomon will be editing the collection, and ohmigod I’m going to be published!

promptedbadge

 

E-lust #71

The Shingle BeachPhoto courtesy of The Shingle Beach

Welcome to E-lust #71

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #72? Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

This Month’s Top Three Posts

Backyard Glory
Bra Wars
Versions of Ourselves

Featured Post (Molly’s Picks)

Disabled characters: who do I write them for?
How Can You Think About Sex Right Now?

Readers Choice from Sexbytes

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
Three

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

How We Started Swinging: Part 2
Notes to my younger self
I am what I am
O-O-O-OMG
Sometimes Submission Requires Standing Up
Tribe
I know how to fix a texting mistake.
Change Is A Four Letter Word
Zero to Sex Pot in 150 minutes
condoms

Erotic Non-Fiction

23 Minutes Of Play
Services Rendered
Depravity’s Communication
Sinful Sunday: The Reveal

Erotic Fiction

No Panties
A Woman’s Experience of Lust
Wicked Wednesday: Three
An Uncommon Case
Misused Petals
(portrait of) desire
Her Turn
A Day At The Beach

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Am I Jaded?
Fury Road’s Furiosa and femdom
Sub power, Domly Vulnerability
In Person I Found You Very Innocent…..
Still A Cherry Tree

Poetry

Catching Up: A Happy Horny Haiku
What You See

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humour

Hey, Feminism? Your ugly is showing.
The Bigger Picture
Naive College Virgin Reads Penthouse Letters
Squirting is Not a Science
Missing “Story of O” scene discovered!

ELust Site Badge

Elust #70

exposing 40
Photo courtesy of Exposing 40

Welcome to Elust #70

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #71? Start with the rules, come back June 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Exposed! My Mom Knows!
Flash Fiction: “A Taste”
I am a Sex Blogger & I Reject Pseudonymity

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

‘X’ is for X…
Give my guilt an erotic payoff? Tell me more.

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Dis-moi…

Blogging

Hidden

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

The Great Outdoors (Or Why I Trust Him)
I’m Reminded You Can’t Force an Orgasm
Yes I am Sexy
Why Choose Monogamy When You Can Choose Every
Would you? Could you?
On Being Haunted

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

A Horse Among Unicorns: Embracing my Straight
Being a Disabled Top in Kink Community
And here I thought kink was all about consent
10 Signs You Don’t Understand Submission
The Answer

Writing About Writing

Sex in Real Life vs Fiction
Terms of Use

Poetry

Six Nine – A Happy Horny Haiku

Erotic Fiction

One Saturday Evening
Cerulean
Stolen Minutes
Taste
Haunting you
Woken
Q is for Quenched
A schoolgirl spanking story 10
Sit Here Please
My Prize

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Fat-Shaming
Spanking, Brits, and what if we didn’t?
“V” is for Virgin

Erotic Non-Fiction

My first date with Lexy – Part 2
Goodnight kiss
How To Kiss Me Like You Mean It
running cold and hot
His cum came out my nose.
Going Down. Honey, Coconut Oil and Cum.

ELust Site Badge

Cerulean

It’s funny: when you tell people you’re trying to lose weight, they all start trying to feed you up. That you’re not drinking for a while, suddenly everyone who owes you a pint is keen to make good on their debt.

Cerulean blue PB35, photo by Stephzzz

Cerulean blue PB35, photo by Stephzzz

Fortunately, I wanted to write more, so I’ve been very happy to see numerous challenges cropping up.

Exhibit Unadorned‘s flash fiction challenge is based on a list of Jade A Waters‘s favourite words, and for those of us crippled by totally unnecessary indecision, he’s been assigning  words as prompts.

He gave me Cerulean.


It had been calling out to her from the shop window for weeks now. It shimmered, like a peacock’s tail, with hints of other colours seeming to come from deep within rather than simply being the result of the changing light and reflections of passers-by.

Hayley had found herself alternately drawn in and shying away from the window whenever she passed – awkward as she went by twice a day on the way to and from work. The first time she’d seen it in the corner of her eye, arranged artfully on a plain, matt black, silk display, she’d only really noticed the colour. Walking back that night, she’d stopped briefly to look more closely. The workmanship was obvious, the care and attention to detail screaming quality and a price tag to match. She knew then, without looking that it would cost more than she could ever really justify. And in a moment of weakness, boredom – and possible stupidity – at work one day, Hayley had gone looking online and had hopes of which she wasn’t aware dashed and her suspicions confirmed. It would wipe out her – she laughed at the term – disposable income for months to come, and there were far more pressing purchases looking likely in the near future.

But after a string of horrific days in the office, she decided she needed a pick-me up. It had been far too long since she’d treated herself, and surely she could cope with living on porridge and baked beans for a week or so if it meant owning such a thing of beauty. Just looking at it made her sigh.

The weather was wet and blustery, not at all like the previous spring evenings that had seen folk spilling out of bars and pubs onto the street. People had their heads down and were marching unseeingly through the rain, determined to get away from work and the weather in equal parts.

The window, for those who paused a moment, had a decadent, lustrous, welcoming warmth to it.

Hayley smiled and felt her stomach flip simultaneously, pushed upon the door, and stepped into a den of dark wine walls picked out with bronze highlights, subtle lighting and display cases full of desire.

Up close, the dildo was all the more beautiful. The sheen was deceptive, the material feeling almost velvety under her fingers. The undulations along its length added further facets to the sky-whale-petrol-teal colour. Hayley could swear it was glowing from within.

“We’ve got it in pink too,” the assistant said, as Hayley turned it in her hands, “but everyone here loves this colour. It’s got a funny name… oh, it was in that film-“

Her colleague looked up from where she was tapping at a screen behind the counter, caught sight of the toy, and nodded in agreement. “The Devil Wears Prada!” she chirped. “Like the jumper!”

Making any kind of connection between the length of silicone in her hands and a purposely scruffy jumper worn by Anne Hathaway seemed like something of an insult to Hayley, but she knew immediately what the assistants were referring to.

“Cerulean,” she murmured. The word suited it.

**

The assistant asked if she wanted it wrapped.

Hayley said no, but paying and getting it bagged still seemed to take forever.

First it went into its padded, millimetres-thick box with the slight grosgrain texture, then that was slipped inside a further, thinner, glossy illustrated box with ends in the same beautiful tone as the toy. Hayley would have gladly taken that, handed over her card, and bolted.

But then there was the heavyweight black paper bag with the bronze detail in the lower corner, and a sticker bearing the shop’s logo placed just so across the lips of the bag, to prevent anyone who shouldn’t see catching a peek. Hayley had kept smiling, but when the assistant produced the bronze wire ribbon from beneath the counter, she had to fight to keep a groan of impatience from escaping.

The card machine couldn’t have worked fast enough either.

Part of Hayley had wanted to keep looking at her new toy, touching it, sharing the love with the girls in the shop, who were clearly as excited as she was about the sale but also seemed – sad? – to see it go.

But now it was safely packed away for the journey home, she wanted to get there, to rip into the packaging and get to enjoy it all over again, for herself this time. Not like that! Well, yes, like that. But not until she’d had the chance to admire it some more, properly, without having to drag herself away for whatever reason.

She wanted to savour.

**

There was half a bottle of something pink in the fridge. Hayley tucked it under her arm, grabbed a clean glass from the draining board – a tumbler, but it would do – and headed for her room.

Putting the bottle down on her dressing table and dropping the bag on the floor temporarily, she shrugged off her coat, shucked off her boots and poured a good four fingers of suspect zinfandel. She picked the bag up only long enough to pull at the ribbon and sticker and rescue the box, before  practically skipping to her bed.

Sitting at the front of her bedside drawer like it was used far more frequently was a bottle of lube. It took up prime position next to the glass of wine. She pulled off her jumper, undid the top few buttons of her shirt, and ran her fingers over the revealed skin.

A sip of wine and she turned her attention to the dildo’s outer box, carefully tugging the flap open and shaking it slightly to release the luxury cardboard. It slid out slowly, landing in her lap. She noticed the embossed logo in the centre, slightly glossy compared to the beautiful matt texture of the card surrounding it.

Prising the lid off, her eyes widened at the sight of the dildo, looking like it had grown in the past 30 minutes, and she grinned. She gazed at it lovingly, ran a finger across its surface and the velvety padding it was nestled in. Then she reached for her wine and made herself comfortable.

Half-propped up by her pillows, skirt pulled up to her waist, she ran a hand over her tights and knickers, following the contours of her body between her legs. Her pussy pulsed gently with anticipation as her fingertips brushed the cotton, her index and third fingers sweeping out to stroke the sensitive creases between her legs and body. Her middle finger traced where her lips met, covered in two layers of fabric but still responding to her touch. Pausing ever so slightly as her fingers moved back up, over her clit, the briefest thrill.

She took a swig of wine, carefully put the glass back on the bedside table. Her tights had to go, but she was too impatient, too keen to touch herself again, to completely remove them. She was left with one hanging from her calf as she returned to her main focus; her two fingers circled gently, grazing the lips above her clit, the featherlight touch enough to start the delicious ache inside her, to start a fluttering sensation behind and in her breasts.

Hayley sighed, closed her eyes in pleasure, felt for the dildo nestled in its box beside her. Not yet. But she wanted to feel it, tease herself with it like a lover would tease her.

She slipped her hand beneath her knickers now, circling incrementally faster, harder, her middle finger pushing between her lips to stimulate the bud below – but still as slowly and gently as she could bear.

She brought the dildo across, trailed it over her thigh and her knickers, up to her belly, resting its curves on hers. Lifting herself just enough to slide her knickers clear, she reached again for the toy, tracing the path her other hand had taken earlier as it continued to play, rubbing slightly harder, slightly faster. She paused with it just outside her entrance, the head nudging tantalisingly between her lips.

Her nerve endings were tingling, on fire, full of anticipation, the feathery feeling inside her breasts, the ache inside growing by the second, tempting her to plunge on.

Instead Hayley stopped completely. Feeling slightly lightheaded, she grabbed for the tumbler of wine like it was a support rail and took a gulp before reaching for the lube and squeezing a good dollop onto her fingers.

She slicked it over the dildo, adding an extra depth and sheen to the glorious colour and contours, then across her skin, through her dark curls, between her lips. She looked down her body, marvelling at the soft paleness of her skin, the contrast with the wiry hair, and the again with the rich, firm, vibrant blue of the dildo as she slid it home…

Cerulean dildo, very close up