Come Into My Bedroom

Earlier this week, I shook out the sheets and fluffed up the pillows. Four fearless writers pushed back the covers to offer these silky stories. Read them and vote, please. You know the drill by now. I found these fabulous buttons, which I'm trying to secure for the winners—and I may search my linen closet for a fabulous grand prize, as well.
*****


Entry #1: Watchful Eyes

The front door clicks shut. She sighs. Trembles a bit at the sound of his leaving. Her foot starts to gently stroke the tangled cream sheet beneath her. The tips of her fingers trace the whorls of the gray velvet pillow, reliving the feel of the silver hairs on his chest. She buries her face in the silken space he left behind—breathes in deep the sober scent of his essence, captured in ivory silk. Dizzy from the smell of him, she trembles again. Closes her eyes and remembers:

“Let me watch you, baby,” he whispers. She slips the slate-colored pillow under his head for a better view. Her tongue teases his nipples to attention before she kisses and licks her way down to his balls and brushes her lips lightly across them. His violet eyes gaze hungrily at her as she gently tugs at his cock with her mouth, rousing it from its bed of skin—licking and sucking and milking the sweet pre-cum until she hears, “It’s time, baby.” Time to cover his hard cock with the soft pink folds of her cunt, burying him deep within her, the bronze sheet covering them with shimmering light as their bodies move in rhythmic climax.

The sound of his Saab fades away. Streams of cum trickle out, wet and cold. The night drizzles in; the chilly stain on the sheets spreads beneath her. She shivers, pulls the covers up over her body, hugs the black bolster tight, and weeps.
*****


Entry #2: My Lust

He has left me here. Dammit. Tied to the bed. Facing the wrong way. Ankles bound to the intricate headboard, wrists at the footboard. Crisp white sheets and total order regard me. He‘s whistling in the kitchen.

I try to move. Try to roll. No good. I want to cry. I want to scream. But mostly I want him to come back and fuck me.

“Stop trying!” he calls out. I hear him laugh.

Bastard.

But I squirm and test my bonds just one more time. Surely this time they will be loose. Nothing.

I put my head on the white valley of cotton, breathe in his laundry detergent. Lavender and sandalwood. The smell of him. The smell of my lust.

I cry a little. Twist and turn. And then I still.

He’s in the doorway.

“You have no patience at all.”

I glare and he laughs. At the foot of the bed, he pulls down his zipper. Pushes his warm, hard cock to my mouth. Presses. “Open.”

I shake my head. He runs the silken tip along my lip and presses. “Open.”

I cave, opening my mouth, sucking him deep. Body pressed to the mattress. Pulse pounding in my cunt. He tells me all the things he’s going to do to me. All the things I want to hear. The things I beg for.

He rides my tongue harder, forcing just the right pressure. I sigh and he yanks my hair. Comes. I swallow the taste of my lust.
*****


Entry #3: Moved By Art

They hoped something would rub off on them. Been checking them all out. They wanted to fuck in one of the writers’ beds. You know how it can be with people of their ilk. Writers. They can be so weird.

They were both very horny. All those sheets, all those erotic thoughts soaked into the thread counts.

“Back to the gallery” came the whisper.

They entered the space. In the center was a bed, as if onstage. Their bare footsteps echoed against the white walls.

“You sure you want to do this? I don’t know what time the gallery opens.”

“Nobody will ever know. It’s already messed up. Besides, the thought of fucking with art kinda turns me on.”

“Wear the slippers for me?”

“Whoa, that’s kinda kinky.”

Soon they were tangling in the sheets. Tied their hands together with the pantyhose they found – one leg for each set of hands. That made it hard to move, but that just made them hotter. No fingers into orifices, it was just mad grinding going on. At one point they almost fell off the bed.

“Oh baby that feels good don’t stop oh God I think I’m gonna come!”

Just then the lights flicked on. They froze, their legs jutting from under the sheets.

“Would you look at that? Seems every night the artist has to come in here and make changes to the piece.”

“Wow, those dolls do look real don’t they?”
*****


Entry #4: Test Drive

This time, our little ritual may actually get us kicked out. This time you're really pushing it. Usually we just lie down together, bouncing experimentally, making a show of scrutinizing prices and features. The truth is we can't afford any of these beds, but we like to pretend.

But tonight something's gotten into you. Tonight when we lay down on the most plush and pristine floor model in the place, you pulled me close and kissed me lingeringly. You acted like we were home alone, in our own creaky hand-me-down bed. Tonight you teased my nipples, slipped your hand between my legs, made me squirm and shudder. The store was deserted, you said. No one would see.

Tonight when the salesman told us the store was closing, you made me ask how much weight the bed would hold, because I wanted to have two men at once. Tonight you invited him to touch me and watched while he stroked me through my panties. Tonight you pushed my face into the mattress and told him to finger me until I begged to be fucked. Tonight I begged and you shoved your cock into my mouth while the man thrust roughly into my pussy and I came for what felt like forever and I took it all and didn't spill a drop of come onto those clean white sheets.

Tonight we bought a bed and you made sure that tomorrow, when they bring it to our house, they'll send two delivery men.

*****

Poll runs through the weekend (hopefully ending Sunday at midnight, or in the wee hours of Monday morning). I'll have a new contest up shortly, too. I've got ideas brewing....along with strong Brazilian coffee!

XXX,
Alison