Vote Your Heart Out!

The poll is up! Long live the poll! At least, long live until May 30th at midnight. So vote your heart (or your liver or your spleen) out (and tell your friends, too)! This contest was sponsored by Atelier Frost. I am in love with so many of her designs... I can't stop running my cursor over the pictures.

Entry #1: French Quarter Fingering

The sun went down hours ago, but it's still hot. We've splurged on a balcony that overlooks Bourbon Street, throngs of drunkards, women who will show their tits even though Mardi Gras is over (the beads trickle year-round here). I'm so absorbed in the debauchery that I don't hear the click of handcuffs until it's too late. I'm trapped, my wrists locked to the railing. You reach around and unbutton my shirt, pull it open; I'm as exposed as the women in the street. You start to fondle my nipples, pinching and pulling; I let out a tiny squeal as I come.

“I know you can do better than that.”

Then you pull my skirt down to my ankles, leaving my rhinestone thong on display. You go straight for my clit, making no secret about what you're doing. My knees tremble and I pull against the railing as you rub me, making more noise, drawing more attention. I start to feel the release of orgasm and moan softly.

“Louder, or I won't let you finish.”

I give in to you as well as my body, screaming out into the humming, drunken night. When I finish, I hear applause, looking down to see people enjoying the spectacle of my pleasure. You pull my skirt back on, button me up, but leave me cuffed. The night is still young.

*****

Entry #2: Green Apple

She was doing it on purpose to torture him. A grown woman wearing a headband, with a delicate apple green bow on it. Everything else she was wearing screamed, “Fuck me on the green grassy hillside.” She was barefoot, her naked toes asking to be kissed. Her sundress was thin lime green cotton, and he knew she wasn’t wearing anything under it. But the headband said, “Innocent, pure, don’t touch.”

She snuggled into his lap and asked if he was having a good time. He kissed her neck, and as she tipped her head back and sighed, he slid the headband out of her long, dark hair. With that deceptively innocent accessory gone, she now looked like what she was, a naughty wood nymph, hungry for his lips and hands.

She bit her lip as he caressed her inner thighs. He stroked her bare pussy underneath her skirt, feeling her become as wet as the forest floor covered in morning dew. He slid two fingers inside, teasing additional moisture from her. She moaned and wiggled her ass against his groin, eliciting a groan from him in return. He slipped a third finger inside, moving them back and forth faster until she called his name and squeezed around his fingers. When the ripples stopped, he removed his hand and kissed her. They undressed. She laid back and welcomed him between her thighs, with the bright sunshine above and the hard earth beneath her back.

*****

Entry #3: This Way, That Way

Alita leaned over, her hands on the back of the chair, and swung her hips first to one side, then the other. She dipped down, keeping her upper body straight and bending slightly from the knees then moving up to one side, trailing her hands across up her legs and over her butt. It was a little strange without music, so Bob found himself humming to himself in time with her movements. It was a folk tune, something from his child hood. What was it now? Oh yes…
“Did you ever see a lassie go this way and that way? Did you ever see a lassie go this way and that…”
“You’d better be getting that washing up done,” Alita warned without looking up. “Not just watching me practice while you polish the same damn glass over and over. I know you.”
“It’s done,” Bob assured her, watching as she executed a sexy head roll. She turned towards him, leaning to give him a great view of her mocha breasts.
“All of it? You’re ready for your reward then?”
“Yep.” He struggled to sound casual.
“So how do you want me, then?”
He moved behind her, placing his hands on her thighs and tracing the path hers had taken across that firm, muscular ass.
“This way.” Then he slid a hand down again, reaching around to her crotch and pressing firmly against the soft mound he felt there beneath the cloth. “Then maybe that way as well.”

*****

Entry #4: Opportunity
-----------

I saw the pretty little thing hanging behind the bar with an easy smile and blond hair. She also wore a sheer white shirt and a short little skirt purely for larger tips.



With a smile on my lips, I strolled behind her. She tensed, feeling my intentions, but committed to serving a martini to the drunk woman on at the bar. The second the glass slipped from her fingertips, I reached out and took her hand, pulling a black cuff around her wrist closer.

"This is lovely," I purred into her ear. At the same time, my other hand slipped down and tugged up on her skirt. Her dark-rimmed eyes opened wide and I could hear the tiny gasp over the din of glasses and conversations.

She struggled with words. My fingers delved up along the stocking clad curves of her ass. A twist of the fingers created a new opening and two long fingers wormed their way between her thighs, enjoying the heat and pressure that caressed my senses.

I tapped her left foot. Her soft breasts rose up through the thin fabric but she spread her legs just enough for my finger to run along the suddenly wet folds.

"Where did you get it?" I said, keeping up appearances as two fingers parted her pussy, running along her lips to find the deeper opening.

When she didn't answer, I drove the two fingers up into her, enjoying how she gasped loudly and clutched the bar.

*****

Entry #5: Textile



I was about to go home, out of the cold, when the girl at the craft stall caught my eye. Auburn curls, flashes of red-gold sparkling, framed a flawless, delicate face, luminous eyes, rose-petal lips. She smiled at me, when I touched the wool on the table, stroked her jewel colored, handmade creations. She wore one wrapped around her throat, red against the pale, paper-silk skin of her jaw.


She took me home, to an attic apartment, white, like a loft in miniature. The clean walls were hung with wool and felt in rich, glowing colors, the art that spun from her tiny, delicate fingers; vibrant reds, blues, turquoises, indigos. I waited for her to approach, naked except for the splash of soft red wool still at her throat – and little rings of wool on all her fingers that she stroked over my skin, ran up my arms ‘til she had me stretched out, and bound with lengths of thick wool that pulled taught and strong when I tested them. She showed me a long felted strand, blood red and scarlet against her white fingers, the white sheets. Deftly, she wrapped my balls, my cock, just tight enough, she tied me. And sucked and licked, and teased me with her hot, wet mouth until I begged.

‘It’s important to keep each other warm,’ she said.

And then I watched my cock, red and adorned against her white face, like the scarf against her skin, her art on the white walls.

*****

Wow, right? What a wide range of sexy, sultry stories! Get your vote in early! And then take off for the rest of the day. Oh, wait, is it Saturday? Already? What am I doing at my desk, then? Heh.

XXX,
Alison