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Eleven Seconds in Heaven An erotic anthology, brought to you by LELO Acknowledgments & Dedications This book is dedicated to every LELO owner, past, present and future, without whom we wouldn’t be able to do what we do as well as we do it. It’s dedicated to those just discovering their sexualities, and those who have mastered theirs. We would like to thank the team behind its creation, to the team behind the Volonté blog, and to all of our contributors, readers, fans, commenters and the community at large. Keep spreading the word. 2017 LELOi AB All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized, in any form or by any means, electronic or physical, without prior written permission from LELOi AB. Introduction Welcome. Splashed across the following pages like so much passion, you’ll find a selection of eleven searing-hot erotic stories, compiled and produced by LELO. Since 2003, LELO has been the leading name in personal pleasure, striving to bring people closer to their bodies and explore the sensuality. Consider this anthology a ‘thank you’ for coming along with us. Here’s to a future filled with sex, sensuality, pleasure, and sex. Yes, we know we said sex twice. 3 Content 14 8 4 Bound & Blindfolded The Silent Disco Coffee & Cream Meet Me On The Roof Giving Thanks Fire 19 27 33 39 43 46 51 58 Ice If Music Be The Food Of Love When The Power Goes Out First Time Pegged A Night At The Burlesque Bound & Blindfolded And then, it was dark. He sat in the unforgiving, iron-backed, armless chair, and felt his other senses swell with purpose. The silk of the blindfold made him more aware of the strength of the restraints around his wrists, tied behind the back of the chair. Suddenly, the warmth of her body close to his was palpable, and the sound of her subtle breath was deafening. The smell of her perfume, the cool air on his skin, even the sense of his own presence in the room; everything was more intense. Everything but his sight. 5 The chair he was tied to was positioned at the foot of the bed, facing the headboard, and he sat patiently as she restrained him. Wrists first. Then his ankles, tied to the legs of the chair. Then the blindfold. He was permitted to watch his own restraint, but nothing else. His own submission would be the last thing he was allowed to see until she had finished with him. Having not even been allowed to strip, he still wore his tux. “You may not touch yourself. You may not watch. You may not talk. Do you understand?” she asked, running a finger up his thigh. He nodded slowly, suppressing a gasp at the contact. She ran the same finger up his body, over his chest and across his neck and then turned towards the bed. He listened to her walk away, the tap of her heels muffled by the carpet. He heard her underwear slide down her legs and the covers rustle as she reclined on them, shuffling closer to him, and he heard his pulse quicken in his ears as his body began to rebel against his bondage. He wanted her, and she knew it. And she wouldn’t allow it. Not yet. She positioned herself as close to the foot of the bed as possible, propping herself up with pillows beneath her shoulders so she could watch him struggle to watch her. His frustration was her pornography, and she was going to tease him until he could bear it no longer, and then more. She opened her legs wide, resting a foot in each corner of the bed. If he had been able to see, the explicitness would have taken his breath away. He heard the unmistakable sound of skin moving over skin and her breath deepening as she began to explore her body in front of him. His body stiffened in response, his arousal obvious through the wool 6 of his suit pants. She moaned as she ran her fingertip over and around her nipple, then moved her finger to her mouth and sucked it noisily before moving it back to her nipple, her other hand inching further and further down her body. Her moans grew louder, and his desperation grew with them. And all the time she watched him. Her left hand pinched and squeezed her breasts as she finally allowed her right hand to slip down between her legs and seek out her wetness. “Oh fuck…” she murmured, grinning at the effect she was having on him. She lifted her hips and pushed a finger inside, bringing her other hand down to pleasure herself further. He bucked against his restraints as he heard the intensity of her play increasing and she watched, smiling, offering it to him unseen. She pleasured herself long and slowly, speeding up and stopping, writhing, moaning noisily, taunting him, sustained by his frantic sexual anguish. His panting matched hers precisely: he was breathing in time with her because that was the only connection he could forge. His heart thumped in his chest as he heard her inhale, the first convulsion of orgasm seizing her body. She was no longer watching him. Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back. She was going to come to spite him. Still using two hands, fingers working hard within and out, she let the frenetic sensations overwhelm her, her legs wide and taut. Her stilted moans coalesced into one single, long, accelerating groan, increasing in volume as she moved 7 from the calm plateau before the storm into the thundering impact of her climax. The groan stopped for a fraction of a second as all the muscles in her body froze – and then exploded in pleasure. Her orgasm rocked her and then subsided into aftershocks. She lay, devastated and satisfied. She opened her eyes and looked at him, leaning forward, as close as his bindings would allow, his mouth open and a complex look of anger and lust on his face. She caught her breath, glowing and flushed, and smiling she removed herself from the bed. On shaky legs and unsteady heels she walked round to him, and leant down to his ear. She traced a glistening finger over his lips and whispered, “I’ll be back later.” He listened to her step across the carpet, pick up her black silk dress, and then he heard the door close behind her. The Silent Disco Since Aaron and Cara had met in that dimly lit nightclub a year earlier, with its oppressive noise and greasy walls, its energetic lights and its vital crowds packed hip-to-hip facing the DJ like cattle round a trough, they had vowed never to go back. Their dislike for the venue is what had propelled them together; their first encounter was driven by their mutual aversion to the place. Eventually that same evening they had ducked away from their friends and gone home together, where they discovered in one another a voracious 9 desire for uninhibited pleasure. Quickly they began to share something far more fulfilling to do on the weekend than bob up and down like leaking boats in deafening nightclubs that they hated and their friends loved, or at least pretended they loved. They began to explore each other, to test the boundaries of their pleasure, as though they alone were reinventing sex. In the year that they had been together, they had traveled the entire spectrum of sexual adventure, ticking off experiences as though they were studying it. They had attended sex parties, tried toys, read erotica. They had both tested their gender, sexuality and power roles within the relationship. They had broken laws and tested the limits of decency, but at the core if it, it was just them, and just them together. They were sharply defined silhouettes against a blurred background of sexual experimentation, a blend of love, intimacy and barely contained hedonism. And so, a year to the day after they had met in that dim nightclub, they decided to return and push the reset button, to begin all over again. The club was a poorly kept secret in the city. It didn’t really have a name and no one was quite sure who owned it, but it was well known in the social circles that Aaron and Cara circulated in. The entrance was embedded into the street itself, covered during the day but opened after dark, revealing a flight of concrete steps that descended below the sidewalk and into the darkness. As a result, it had quietly accrued the nickname, ‘The Underground’. Thousands walked over it every day without even knowing it was there. When the club was open you could usually feel the tarmac beneath your feet vibrating from the beat of the music like 10 standing over a subway station, but not the night Aaron and Cara arrived for their anniversary celebrations. Tonight, as they descended those hard steps into the darkness below the city, they encountered something close to silence. They exchanged looks, wondering if it was closed tonight, or whether they were late, or early, but there were people around, exiting to catch their breath or smoke a cigarette or fall drunkenly into the back of a taxi. People brushed passed them up the steps, glazed with the tell-tale film of glistening sweat that betrayed vigorous dancing within. But there was no music to be heard or felt. Now underground and inside the building, Cara approached the ticket clerk and paid. She handed over her money and in return was given her change, two tickets, and two sets of what looked like industrial ear defenders: big, expensive, yellow headphones. They made their way towards the main room, the noise within increasingly only slightly: the sound was just enough to signify that people were present and moving, but still no music. They pushed through the doors and were met by 200 or so people, each wearing a set of yellow headphones, grinding, jumping, dipping and writhing in near silence. The only sound that of the fabric of their clothes against their bodies and the soles of their feet shuffling over the sticky dancefloor. At the far end of the room and slightly elevated was the DJ, himself wearing headphones and clearly controlling the sounds everyone in the room was listening to. With nothing more than an exchanged glance, Aaron and Cara slipped their own headphones on. It was the same bland monotonous thudding noises as usual but 11 somehow, through the earphones, it felt more intimate and private, despite the crowd. They watched each other move, getting close to one another, moving apart, then closer again, feeling the warmth and the firmness of the strangers around them. The pressed into each other, the pressure and weight of the people around them forcing them together, their skin glistening with energy. They kissed. They stared at each other. They kissed again. Harder. Aaron ran his hands firmly through Cara’s hair, knocking her headphones off. The sudden silence was almost deafening, like stepping out into a cold night. She broke off the kiss and looked around, the writhing figures around them unnoticing and oblivious to the sexual intensity growing between the two. The danced quietly, only the sounds of their movements audible, like a grey hum in the background. Cara smiled and pulled off Aaron’s headphones. “We can say whatever the fuck we want” she said loudly, grinning, “and none of these people can hear us.” “You are so bad” said Aaron. Cara pressed her hand against the front of Aaron’s pants and gripped him, stroking him through the fabric, feeling him swell in her hand. “FUCK ME. RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW.” As she said it, she undid his fly and reached her hand inside, immediately finding what she was looking for and releasing him. His cock sprung out from his jeans and she enjoyed its warmth and firmness, running her hand over it and teasing 12 it with her fingers. Surrounded by unsighted people deafened to everything but their music, and surrounded by darkness, it would have been hard to notice what they were doing to any but the most perceptive observer. Aaron was already struggling to control his desire. He put his hands on her hips and spun her round fast, lifting the back of her dress to her slender waist and sliding her negligible thong to one side. She bent forward slightly and closed her eyes, waiting. She felt his erection touch her most sensitive flesh and push inside, his hand still on her hip and now another wrapped around his length, guiding it inside her. With one agonizingly slow motion, he pushed inside her, forcing a growling moan from through his clenched teeth and sigh of relief from her lipsticked mouth. Once her body had fully accommodated him, he removed his hand from his cock and slid it up the front of her body, over her breasts and up to her shoulder, gripping her tightly from behind. She began to grind down onto him, both standing almost completely upright now, wriggling and writhing her body like every other dancer in the room, but with the sensations of sex vitalizing them, separating them from the mass around them. Cara slid her hand between her thighs and teased her clit while Aaron firmly but slowly slid deeply inside her, the heat of the other bodies warming her, brushing against her, close enough to touch but entirely distant too. “OH GOD YOU FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD” breathed Aaron. “I’M ALREADY CLOSE.” 13 “CUM FOR ME,” she replied without inhibition. “LET ME FEEL IT.” She teased her clit faster, harder, bringing herself to the edge in time with Aaron’s fulfilling thrusts, her muscles massaging him inside her as her own climax began. Her knees felt like they would buckle as the convulsions of her pussy brought on Aaron’s orgasm too. He threw his hard back and roared, squeezing her body against his own as he came inside her for several long, desperate, primal seconds. Her orgasm began before his and finished after, her body tense and his softening, her own involuntary groans mingling with his in the air above them, dozens of people still dancing around them none the wiser. Eventually, after enjoying their union for some time, she slid off him and smoothed down her dress. She turned and they kissed, swaying together in the afterglow. She leaned against the door frame, sipping her morning coffee as she watched him sleep. He was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, with one arm tucked under the pillow and the other resting low on his stomach under the thin white sheet. A slow smile played on her lips, and she felt her body react to the man in her bed. Images of last night flashed through her mind, her body still showing the marks of his rough hands and teeth. She bit her lip and thought about the things he had done with his tongue. She was not Coffee & Cream 15 innocent by any means, but that had been an entirely new experience, and she had allowed him access to every part of her body. Very willingly and with reckless abandon, she thought to herself. Never before had she begged or screamed so much, or cum so hard. She blushed at how she had soaked the bed, and his admiring praise for her. He had looked at her with such lust in his eyes before he completely destroyed her with his tongue, feeding off her sweet taste. What is this man doing to me? She felt her nipples harden and the familiar tug of desire deep inside of her when she remembered the feeling as he thrust into her that first time. He had looked straight at her and smiled when she moaned his name. He had been so confident, and knew exactly what to say and do to make her agree to every last little naughty, downright dirty thing he had asked for. She kept sipping her hot coffee as her aroused, naked body grew fully alive again. Putting down the mug on her dresser, she walked over to the bed and slowly started tugging down the sheet off his body. She smiled appreciatively as his cock came into view; even in its flaccid state it was impressive. “Hmm, this won’t do,” she whispered into the room. She watched him stir as the warm air caressed his skin. He settled back into his sleep as she positioned herself kneeling between his spread legs. She lightly slid her hands up the 16 inside of his muscular thighs, and she watched him shift once again. The sides of her small hands brushed against his cock, ever so gently. She saw him twitch at the touch of her soft skin against his flesh. She licked her lips as she traced a fingertip along his shaft and saw him harden even further. His hips gyrated almost unnoticeably as she squeezed the base of his cock. Moving her hand up slowly, she grasped him harder and heard a low moan escape from his lips. She looked up at his face as she leaned down to tease his tip with her tongue. She saw his lips part and his dark eyes open as she wrapped her lips tightly around him. She heard his low growl as his eyes connected with hers and she slowly took him deeper into her warm mouth. His jaw clenched as his hand went into her long, dark hair and gathered it in his fist. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to; it was all written across his face. She wanted to give him the same pleasure he had given her the night before; she would let him get lost in the same desire she had given herself to. Her eyes stayed locked with his as she rubbed the head of his cock across her flattened tongue. She was the one in control now; it was a powerful feeling and she understood the confidence she had seen in him last night. A bead of pre-cum coated her tongue, and she moaned as she tasted it. She wanted more. 17 She pulled her mouth away from his throbbing shaft, starting to stroke him fast and hard. She felt the grip in her hair tighten, and his look intensified. She was not ready for him to cum yet. I want to hear him beg. She smiled as she heard him growl when she slowed her pace. He raised his hips off the bed and placed his other hand around hers on his cock, forcing her to start moving faster. She heard his low, deep moan as she felt him get harder in her fist. His erratic breathing and grip around her hand was betraying how close he was to cumming. The pre-cum was trickling out of his tip, and she lapped it up with her eager tongue. He released his hold of her hand, and she wasted no time in devouring his cock. She teased his shaft with her tongue as she took him deeper into her throat. She moaned when she felt him grow against her lips. He is so close. Pulling him out of her mouth, she saw the desperation and flash of anger in his dark eyes. The grip in her hair increased and she knew how badly he needed his release. She licked around the tip and slowly down his shaft. Grasping his cock, she started stroking him as her tongue teased his tight and cum-filled flesh. 18 “Fuck,” he moaned out as she kept teasing him. “Please.” Yes. She looked up at him again, and his eyes were now closed; he was thrusting into her hand. She surrounded him tightly with her lips around him, fisting his cock even harder. She felt him swell moments before the first spurt of heat filled her mouth. Pulling him out, she felt the rush of cum coat her lips and drip down over her now slowing hand. Letting go of his spent cock, she sucked a creamy, cumcovered finger into her mouth as she watched him lying panting on the bed as he looked at her. “Good morning,” she smiled, popping her finger out of her mouth. “How do you take your coffee?” Meet Me on the Roof Poking her head into the corridor, she looked right and then let, trying to stifle a giggle. ‘Coast is clear!’ she hissed over her shoulder. Turning back to aim herself toward the elevators, she added ‘OK, I’ll go first and call the elevator and then…Ow!’ She yelped at the sudden bump that nearly sent her putting her sprawling onto the lushly patterned carpet. Straining against the doorframe to stop them both from toppling out, she looked back at Brian juggling a bottle of champagne, pillows and a blanket. ‘Careful!’ ‘Sorry!’ He grinned at her. ‘Ok you go first.’ She stuck her head back out into the hallway, took a deep breath and then strode out with false briskness. With 10 long steps she arrived at the elevators and pressed the ‘Up’ button with 3 quick jabs of her thumb. At nearly midnight, most of the other guests were already in bed or not due in for a few more hours, but she was still hoping there wouldn’t be any staff or too-drunk college kids on spring break headed to their floor. With a cheerful ding, the elevator arrived, and she stepped in backward, giving a quick whistle back up the hallway toward their room. And then waited. Impatiently, she whistled again and listened. There was the click and mechanical whirr of the door shutting, followed by muted thumps of Brian’s steps toward her. He slowed his steps to a nonchalant stroll as he crossed the tile before the elevators, giving her a serious nod before joining her. 20 ‘So,’ he said mildly as he leaned against the back wall, ‘Are you here for the life insurance conference, Miss…?’ Laughing, she stood on her tip toes to kiss his neck. ‘Caroline. And no, actually. I’m here for my anniversary. But my husband seems to have abandoned me.’ ‘Oh well he sounds awful. Look, if you’ve given up looking for him, I was just about to enjoy this champagne up on the roof if you’d care to join?’ They both grinned at each other as she clasped his hand and nodded. With a ding, the elevator stopped on the 20th floor, and, putting a finger to her lips, she cautiously looked out into the corridor. The floor was dark, the gym and small pool that made up the floor having long since closed for the evening and the pale moonlight casting bizarre shadows through the glass enclosing them. They crept past, Brian copying Caroline’s exaggerated tip toe as best he could with the large bundle in his arms. At the end, behind the fitness welcome desk, they came to a door marked ROOF ACCESS that, though appearing closed, had a folded up brochure tucked into between the frame and locking mechanism. Pushing the door open silently, she held it open with her arm and bowed, ‘After you, my good sir.’ ‘Why, thank you kindly,’ he replied. They crept up the steps to another door, this one propped open with some sort of insurance booklet. 21 ‘Wait, there really is an insurance confere..?’ ‘Shhh, come here!’ Caroline pushed past him and kicked off her shoes, not bothering to pick them up as she made her way to the edge of the roof. Brian followed, suddenly transfixed by the sight of her curvy silhouette against the city glow. She was pushing herself up with her elbows on the ledge, face thrust excitedly into the cool night air, just as she had the very first time, and now in the 10 years since. Depositing bedding on the ground, he walked up and put his arm around her stomach, nuzzling the back of her neck. ‘So beautiful,’ she breathed. ‘Mmm, and the view’s not so bad either,’ he said. Caroline turned around to face him, rolling her eyes. ‘You make that joke every time.’ ‘And I still mean it. Even when you roll your eyes around like that. But now that I’ve torn your eyes away from the beautiful night sky, may I interest the lady in some champagne?’ She tucked her fingers into the front of his pants, admiring his strong jaw line as wrestled the cork from the bottle. Even if she always managed to open them more easily, it was all about these little traditions. With a final squeak and a pop, he tossed the cork aside and gave her his best Sean Connery eyebrow raise. ‘I seem to have forgotten the glasses, my dear girl. You’ll have to open wide.’ 22 She closed her eyes and lifted her open mouth expectantly, bracing for the sharp sweet tang of the bubbles in her mouth. Instead, a few drops hit her lips while a steady stream hit her chin and ran down her chest, soaking the top of her blouse. ‘Brian!’ she gasped, forgetting for a moment to whisper. ‘On it, miss. Many apologies; can’t imagine how that happened.’ Without missing a beat he began unbuttoning her shirt and noisily kissing and licking his way from her collarbone to her sternum. All the way down he followed the middle of her petite frame, now shaking with laughter, until he was on his knees at her feet. She clasped her hands behind his head and looked down into his large brown eyes, which looked more mischievous than usual. ‘Well jeez, now that I’m all wet,’ she began, bending-with just a little-to join him on the ground. ‘Wait just a sec.’ He reached among the blankets and pulled out a small black box. Placing the champagne down, he flicked open box and held it up for her. ‘I’ve got something I’d like to propose.’ In the poor light, all Caroline could see within the box was a thick gold band. ‘Brian, that’s not a ring is it? You remember that we’re married, right?’ ‘While I would marry you again 50 times over, no, this isn’t a ring.’ He looked down and began fumbling with the box. 23 ‘Just let me turn it on…’ He held it up triumphantly as it began buzzing. ‘Someone has been leaving their browser open. I can take a hint.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she started, pulling up her skirt. TIANI24k ‘Mhhmm, is that so? Hmmm’ he murmured, mouth muffled against her soft inner thigh. With both arms cupping the back of her legs, he continued to voice his disbelief; first along her left thigh, across her delicate cleft, and then back down the right. Jutting his chin firmly under her, he looked up into her eyes, half closed with pleasure as she leant against the wall and held onto the back of his head with her other arm. ‘After thorough investigation, I have to find your claims of innocence to be completely spurious ma’am.’ ‘Shhh. Shut up,’ she laughed and pushed his head gently back toward her. His tongue obliged, flat and pushing forward along her, then curling back as he pulled it upward to her clit. She shivered and placed a knee on his shoulder as he delved forward and back, each time pausing longer to suck gently as she moaned and squirmed in his grasp. With the tapered edge of the toy, he began entering her shallowly, each time letting it linger for just a half second longer. ‘Please,’ she said, grasping at his hair with no longer gentle tugs. 24 Obliging, he bit gently at her thigh while inserting it and admired the glint of gold against her tawny skin. He stood, his fingers pressing it in place from within and watched as she writhed against the vibrations. She pulled him close; leg lifting in his grasp to urge him deeper. With her other hand she fumbled around his to undo his belt, grimacing in frustration. He chuckled and released her, undoing his belt slowly as she explored sensations of the toy against herself. She flicked her eyes at his cock, an invitation and a challenge. With a loose grip he ran his hand up and down his shaft, enjoying his show as much as being hers. ‘Turn around,’ his voice now hoarse with want rather than effort to be quiet. She gave a slow, mocking turn and stuck her ass out at him, using her hand now to grind against the vibe with a slow, deliberately taunting. He stepped toward her and lifted her hips, entering her so hurriedly he barely registering her deepened moan. Each thrust seemed to send shock waves down the underside of his cock and throughout his entire body. Their left arms intertwined on the top of the ledge, using it for leverage as their right hands both clasped at her cunt. Their ragged breaths were overpowering the sound of traffic from below, and Caroline’s moans seemed to envelope him in the sensation of her; it was impossible to recognize the existence of anything but himself within her… ‘Hey, are there people up there?’ 25 They both froze, blood thundering in their ears at the sound of a strange voice from below. ‘I think there’re people fucking on the roof,’ came a second voice. ‘Probably just some college kids. You remember being that age.’ ‘Barely!’ Their guffaws faded and Brian kissed Caroline’s neck. ‘They’re right you know. We’re acting like kids.’ ‘Well,’ she murmured back. ‘At our age, I think that calls for champagne.’ 26 Giving Thanks The idea of Thanksgiving had always sat a little uncomfortably with Alice, as a British woman from a Catholic family living in America. She was embarrassed by it all somehow, as though she was somehow personally responsible. But nothing made her feel worse than spending Thanksgiving with a new boyfriend’s family – the first time she had ever met them. Her boyfriend, John, was a good person. Good Christian morals, a 28 decent upbringing, respectful, considerate, understanding… but in many ways distant, unemotional, unknowable. So it came as a surprise to Alice that he had invited her to Thanksgiving in his parent’s lodge in the mountains after being together for only a few months. Perhaps, she thought, he sympathized with her being alone at such an important cultural event. Alice had been nervous on the long drive out of the warmth of the city, John at the wheel, chewing her hair and staring at the landscape blend from concrete grey to Fall brown, and eventually into the white of the snowy hills. The car finally crunched over the fresh snow on the driveway to the lodge, black-grey smoke chugging peacefully from the chimney. It was exactly how Alice had imagined it: all wood and glass, enclosed in trees, chopped logs in a pile round the side, but bigger than she imagined. Before she had stepped out of the car, the front room of the lodge swung open and John’ appeared, waving emphatically and cheerfully. Alice took a moment to brace herself and control her nerves, and then followed John meekly into the house. John was very obviously his father’s son. His father was straight-backed, measured, stern and deliberate. His mother was warmer, but quieter, a little bashful and overwhelmed by the relative size of her husband. To Alice, it was like looking at a reflection of her and John in the future. She was surprisingly happy with it. Inside, the smell of good food hung in the air, and a log fire crackled in the living room. Members of John’ family mingled and greeted and laughed and drank, and 29 Alice’s nerves slowly fell away. It was warm, restrained and grown up. “So how long have you been in the US?” asked John’ sister, June. “Three years now”, said Alice. “Ah, still fresh off the boat, huh? So is this your first proper Thanksgiving?” “Yes,” Alice replied. “As a Brit, I’m never quite sure whether I’m welcome. It seems like you guys have the monopoly on being grateful.” John eyed her suspiciously. “Yeah, well the English don’t have much reason to be grateful. They take without asking, so there’s no reason to be gracious. We’re just a more thankful country than you”, said June, smiling a teasing smile. “You should be thankful. We did give you a country, after all”, joked Alice. “Well, hopefully you’ll find something to be thankful for this weekend,” said June, looking playfully between Alice and John. “We need more logs for the fire,” a voice from the kitchen interrupted. “We’ll go”, called John in response. He stood and grasped Alice’s hand, pulled her to her feet 30 and led her out of the room. When they were out of earshot, he stopped and leaned closer to her. “I’ll give you something to be fucking thankful for”, he breathed, and reached between her legs. Alice jolted at the welcome attention. “But it’s not this”, John hissed again. John led her firmly by the wrist out the front door and round the side of the building, the thick snow crunching beneath their feet. Alice had become small, her shoulders shrunken and her head bowed, her cheeks warmed by a confounding mix of shame and excitement. He had never spoken to her like that before. He had never asserted himself like this. He led her silently to the pile of logs piled horizontally at the side of the lodge and demanded she lay over the peak of the pile. “Say ‘thank you’ every time you’re spanked. Do you understand me?” Alice opened her mouth to respond but no sound emerged. She was stunned, thrilled, paralyzed with desire. “Do. You. Understand?” repeated John, more sternly. She nodded and he lifted her skirt, rolling it up over her back. Without hesitation and almost in the same movement he pulled her panties down and left them halfway down her thighs. He raised his hand to shoulder-height and brought it down in a swift swing. 31 The smack of his palm thudded against her cold ass, causing her to draw in the freezing air with a sharp gasp, the warmth of the impact numbing her to the frost and snow beneath her knees and between her fingers on the logpile. “Th-thank you”, she said through gritted teeth. Has hand swung back again, and then forwards and landed with a smack hard enough to send electricity through her whole body. Another gasp fought its way out as she threw her head back. “Thank you,” she said after a moment. John wrapped a handful of her hair around his fist and spanked her again with his other hand, this time eliciting a wince and a yelp. “Thank you.” She was oblivious to the cold now, the snowflakes quickly melting on her reddening cheeks. She heard him open his zipper and moan as he removed himself from his pants. He was enjoying it so much that he had become the most aroused he’d ever been with her. This was his relief. Spanking Alice was his exorcism. He continued spanking her, she obediently thanked him. Slowly. Deliberately. With measured power he alternated between thudding smacks and self-pleasure, his moans accelerating and intensifying parallel to her yelps and thanks. Eventually she heard the crunch of snow under his shoes as he shuffled around behind her, still bent over the snowy logs. 32 He widened his stance and positioned himself securely, and then pushed inside her with ease. She hadn’t noticed how wet she had become and her body accepted him without hesitation. He fucked her as he spanked her, roughly, powerfully, growling obscenities at the back of her head, language she had never heard from him before, building and building in ferocity. Everything was becoming a blur for Alice, a heady mix of sensations: hot, cold, pain, pleasure. She was overwhelmed, overstimulated and entirely lost, all inhibition gone, unaware that she was now saying ‘fuck me’ over and over again instead of ‘thank you’. John felt the first waves of orgasm grip him and his pace suddenly increased, no longer able to stop what was about to happen. As the first and second waves crashed over him, his entire body beginning to clench, he ripped himself out of her and pointed his cock down between her thighs, coating her innocent white panties with streams of cum, filling them with his mess. After a moment his orgasm subsided, and he regained his composure, his breath hanging in the winter air. He reached down and slid her now profaned panties up and she enjoyed the warm wetness against her skin. Fire As bland, characterless multinational offices go, Sara’s could have been worse. She had long ago learned to tune out the indistinct hum of printers, copiers, coffee percolators, ringing phones and stifled chatter. It had become white noise, almost therapeutic when she allowed herself the time to concentrate on it. But time was not something Sara had much of any more. Everything was urgent. Everything had a deadline. The office had become her life, and her life had become the office. Her routine was to wake up Monday, 34 dress, eat, commute, work, return, wash, repeat. She may as well copy Monday and paste it through the week until Sunday, when she could spend her free time preparing to begin all over again. Sara had lost her spark somewhere along the way, and she felt it. A vague feeling that she was missing something essential. Every time she left a room she patted down imaginary pockets, a subconscious bodily tick she had acquired somewhere in the last two years, as though she always felt she had forgotten something. That sensation was with her every moment of every day. But it wasn’t her keys she had mislaid. It was something far more fundamental than that. Sure, she had her little rebellions. Every now and then she would slip out for a cigarette and enjoy its badness. Perhaps once a month she would wear something sexy beneath her charcoal trouser suit, something only she could know and touch. Her little secret, her little mutiny. It was only a little thing, but it made her stand taller, walk bolder and smile a little more than usual. She needed to protect it: to rebel to often would be to trample the embers, it would no longer be special. But it was no longer enough. She had stopped counting the months since her last date, let alone her last fling. She wondered what had happened to her. She used to take risks. She used to be spontaneous. She was embarrassed that she had traded it all in for a T-shirt bra and a competitive wage. She wanted more than anything to reconnect with herself, and she knew it wouldn’t happen unless she took a risk and made it happen. Today, though, she did feel special, and she would make 35 it happen whatever the cost. She needed to open a valve and release the dangerous pressure that she’d allowed to build unchecked. And then there was Mark. Mark was new, Sara had interviewed him for the job and had found herself uncomfortable during it when she realized she was flirting with him. She remembered blushing after she accidentally said “oh really…” when he had mentioned he was flexible in any position. At 27 he was five years her junior, smart, clean, arrogant and intelligent. Ever since the interview there had been something intangible between them, an awkwardness that belied attraction. The mature thing would have been to ignore it, maybe even joke about it, and let it extend no further than a misguided kiss at an office party. But Sara wanted a break from maturity and Mark was going to provide it. She glanced at Mark from her desk. He was sorting through papers at his own desk. She brought up her instant messenger and began to type. Sara says: Mark. There is an emergency in the office. Sara watched. Mark read the message and his brow ruffled a little in confused alarm. His eyes shot across the office and met hers. He registered to mischievous smile on her face. Mark says: Hello Sara. What is the nature of your emergency? Sara says: Very soon there is going to be an unannounced fire drill. Mark says: …there is? 36 Sara says: Yes. Everyone is going to leave. Fast. Mark says: so the office will be empty… Sara says: two of us should stay behind to make sure everyone gets out safely. I just promoted you to assistant fire officer. Are you up to the task? Mark says: There’s only one way to find out. Sara stood slowly with a devious smile growing across her face, sauntered nonchalantly over to the wall, checked no one was looking, grabbed the lever for the fire alarm and pulled. The office suddenly became alive with noise, as obnoxious alarms began to screech and people began to clamber away from their desks. “Everyone out, NOW”, demanded Sara over the urgent noises. She stood by the fire escape door, held it open and pushed her colleagues out one by one, like paratroopers from a plane. Mark was last, and before he could leave, she slammed the door closed. It was just her and him in the loud, empty office. She pressed her back against the door and took him by the tie, pulling him to her, and without a word, they kissed hard and urgently. He wrapped one strong hand around the back of her head, gripping her long hair, and pressed his weight into her. The sprinkler system switched on and they were doused as they kissed, as though the heat between them might cause them to ignite. The cool water poured over them, drowning the fragrance of his aftershave and causing his white shirt to 37 cling to his tall, slim frame. With one hand she explored his body, and with the other she unbuttoned her pants and slid her hand inside. Mark stepped back, still holding her hair pressing her against the fire escape door, and watched her pleasure herself in anticipation of him. He listened to her quickening breath and the growing pleasure of her body as the sprinklers drenched them. “We only have five minutes,” she whispered, almost to herself, “before the fire brigade arrives.” They locked eyes. “You need to fuck me, and you need to do it right now.” She slid her suit pants down and kicked them off. She stood in heels, dark lace-top stockings shrouding her long creamy legs, silk suspenders and a lace thong with her hand inside, and her shirt and jacket. With her free hand she quickly undid Mark’s belt and zipper, and found him hard, thick and ready. She pulled it out and stroked it as she stroked herself, and then pulled him to her, lifting her leg to his waist. He held Sara’s leg around him and felt her wetness as she guided him inside her. She gasped as he took control and began to push slowly inside, little by little. She wanted all of him immediately, and she wasn’t prepared to wait. She began to grind up and down him, filling herself with him, holding him at the back of his neck for leverage and the other hand still pleasuring herself, enjoying the firmness of his grip in her hair. Mark lifted her leg a little higher so she was on tiptoes, and stroked long, satisfying strokes in and out of her. Sara could feel his strength, he was essentially lifting her off the ground 38 and pressing her into the door like he was going to fuck her through it. Her legs became weak as a familiar wave of pleasure rolled up her body, and she began to meet his thrusts with her own as she edged closer and closer. The waves of pleasure began to mount and evolve into bodily convulsions that gripped Mark tightly as he entered her, bringing him closer to his own peak. They grips tightened on each other, Sara’s fingernails digging into Mark’s neck and Mark’s fist pulling Sara’s head to one side by her hair. Sara’s free hand worked furiously on herself, her legs weakening further with every flick of her finger. Their faces were both turned up at the ceiling, eyes closed, mouths opened, soaking wet and moaning loudly. Finally, Sara allowed the wave to crash down on her and every muscle seized, hot convulsions shattering her whole body, breathing obscenities through gritted teeth. The convulsions gripped and massaged Mark within her, causing him to lose control, and he released a visceral growl as he climaxed inside her orgasm-wracked body. Exhausted, they slumped into each other smiling under the water still cascading over them, the sounds of the alarms returning as their senses rallied. They pressed their foreheads together and kissed. The fire brigade was arriving, it was time to go. Ice “Who’s there?” she called. “Room service”, came the reply, almost automatic, muted slightly by the weight of the closed door. Laurie rose from the bed and stood, curling her toes for a moment in the thick weave of the carpet, and walked over to the door. She opened it with a smile, and enjoyed a look of shock and embarrassment register on the porter’s face. 40 She stood lithe and tall in nothing but black fishnet stockings and suspenders, black lace panties, a peephole bra, a long pearl necklace wrapped twice around her neck shrouded in dirty blond hair, and nothing else. The porter’s eyes panicked, trying to drink in and record as much of this image as possible before it was snatched away while trying to appear to maintain his composure. Laurie took the tray from the porter and winked knowingly at him, his mouth open and twitching slightly as though a thousand words had become log-jammed in his larynx and each was fighting to be the one that made it out. She turned and flicked the door closed before he had the chance to dazzle her with his smooth and confident wit, knowing he would probably replay the encounter for years, each time trying a new combination in his head that would end with the two of them in an illicit tryst. But there was already someone in the bed, and had the porter managed to pry his stunned eyes away from the semi-naked woman in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder, he would have seen the man was already engaged in an illicit tryst. Lying naked on the huge circular bed in the middle of the expensive hotel room was Paul, restrained by wrists to the iron bedhead and blindfolded, his naked body glowing and defined in the moonlight from the open floor-to-ceiling curtains and blushing with embarrassment at having been seen like this by a stranger. He listened to Laurie approach with the tray and tried to imagine what she might be holding. He heard the scrape of metal on metal as she approached. 41 On the tray was an ice bucket, chilling a bottle of champagne. But Paul didn’t know that any more than he knew the champagne was not for drinking. Laurie approached him, set the tray down, popped an ice cube from the champagne bucket into her mouth and leant over him, pressing her lips against his. He buckled and contorted at the sudden blend of sensations: the warmth of her mouth, the cold of the ice, the surprise of the complexity. His face hardened for a moment and then softened to a smile as she drew away, leaving the ice cube to melt on his tongue. Still leant over him, watching his face closely, she fished another ice cube from the bucket and held it in her hand, the melting water already beginning to roll over her fingers. She placed it on the center of his chest, pressing firmer as he struggled against it, and began to slide it down his torso. He begged for relief, she smiled. She slid it down, further and further, brushing her hand against his erection, enjoying how rigid and tense his body became as she trailed it over his thigh, before throwing it away onto the thick carpet and taking a fresh one. She paused and waited for his anxiety to build before wrapping her hand, still holding the ice in her palm, around his cock. The intensity forced an agonized groan from between Paul’s gritted teeth and his back arched up. She took another cube in her other hand and wrapped that around his length too, making him buck even more against her. She stroked them up and down until his heat had melted them into a glistening puddle all over him. He was breathing 42 deeply now, recovering from the sensations and preparing for the next, his body taut and close to orgasm – and Laurie could tell. Now she took the champagne bottle from the bucket, allowing the freezing water to drip all over him, and took a swig, filling her mouth, spilling it over his erection as she did so. The bubbles crackled against his sensitive skin before fading away. She took an ice cube in each hand and wrapped them around his erection again; he bucked less this time, desensitized to the cold. And then, without warning, she lowered her champagne-filled mouth down and wrapped it around his cock, stroking him with both her freezing hands and lapping the liquid around his length with her warm tongue. The blend of conflicting feelings was more than he could take, the fire and ice, and she worked him faster until a primeval groan that seems to start in his legs and roll up his body was given voice by his mouth. He lifted his head and directed the groan at the hotel room’s ceiling as the orgasm overwhelmed him, and the warmth of his climax melted into the champagne in her mouth. And somewhere downstairs, a porter leant against a wall and smiled dreamily to himself. If Music Be the Food of Love On one of the few moments my apartment was quiet, I lay, lightly fingering the track pad. There were documents that needed my attention for work, others for my thesis. Instead I looked back at the very beginning of my playlist. I’d passed the stage where so much social pressure rested on my playlist; I was happy to have remnants of my very first pirated albums from the 90s languishing on my computer. I found a song; a cover of a cover that nevertheless struck memories of a time when I thought it was so cool 44 to listen to a song with a 3 minute intro. I picked up my vibe, cupping its round form in my palm and letting it begin its subtle purr to the beat. He was my first good lover, the boy who introduced me to this song. Not in his car, as clichéd as that would be. Though, we definitely enjoyed it there too. I thought of his self-serious expression when describing micro-beats, almost betrayed by the careless curl of his hair and crafted bronze muscles of his arms, describing the work that went into the sound that now dictated sensations. The vibrations thrum as the beat picks up, and I buck instinctively. It had felt so good to rest casually on floorbound mattresses, really listening to music, if only because everyone stopped talking, expecting you to. His mouth found mine so easily, so earnestly. ‘Listen to this,’ he’d say, wanting to share the thirst and appreciation I didn’t quite share, but was sure existed if only because of his enthusiasm. And my body filled in the blanks of the rhythm, as it did now, rising to meet and shy away from tantalizing feelings that my hand knows to press forward. You can’t help but open yourself to the experience, the thoughts encapsulated in a five-minute song urging you to feel something so deep and personal, yet communal. It takes me over, the vibrator now insisting and intense, and I find it with almost comic ease, that meaning that was gushed over by everyone else. It comes to you and makes you be part of it, feelings and now sensation engulfing you 45 and saying, ‘Come, feel, be a part of it.’ I’m being urged along by the vibrations emanating from my hand, the beat of which now overpowering my perception of the song it’s mimicking. ‘The best part’s coming up!’ he’d say, every time. And it does, the crescendo peaking suddenly with a rush, and me with it, exhaling the breath I didn’t know I was holding and releasing every muscle in my body. As both the music and vibrations subside slowly, sensation echoes along with the memories of every time I’ve ever heard that song, and I press ‘repeat.’ When the Power Goes Out As he flicked aimlessly through TV programs, she looked at her phone again and sighed. It had been silly to order in with the snow as bad as it was, but they had already eaten the last of anything shy of its expiry date from the fridge. Her phone pinged. An apology from the restaurant, their dinner would be another 40 minutes. Sighing again, she turned and watched his blank face as he flicked, paused, flicked, paused through the channels. With dark features and strong brow, it 47 seemed like he was deeply considering whether to watch sport fishing or the Christmas episode of Friends. And then silence. The blue glow of the screen that had been lighting the room went dark, as did the porch light outside. ‘Oh for fuck’s…’ She got up and looked through the window at the dark houses along their laneway. From behind her came a yellow glow and she turned to see him holding a single candle in a glass holder. ‘I didn’t think we had any candles.’ She inhaled deeply. ‘Kinda chocolate-y.’ ‘You won this as a door-prize at Ellen’s bachelorette thing. You were very excited about using it to give me a sexy massage. Then you started puking.’ ‘I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she sniffed in mock offense. He placed the candle on the coffee table and lay back on the couch, arm behind his head and pouting his lips in a deliberate but only half-sincere model pose. ‘You can’t imagine ever wanting to give me a sensual rub down? I’m hurt.’ ‘Never.’ She leant over the opposite arm of the couch and crawled over to him, holding herself above his body until her lips were just barely brushing against his cheek. ‘In fact, I wouldn’t even be on this couch if I wasn’t worried about freezing to death,’ she murmured. Tilting her head to gauge 48 his reaction, she saw his eyes were half-closed and his face slack with lust. ‘Can’t have you freezing to death on me. It’d be ages until the ambulance could get here,’ his voice rumbled, travelling more through his chest than his throat. He pulled the blanket over her while she scooted forward, seating herself firmly onto his lap. ‘There we…’ he started to say, interrupted by a deep moan as her teeth found his ear lobe. ‘Mhhm?’ she asked, letting her tongue and teeth walk their way along the outer shell of his ear. His grip tightened on her waist and their hips met with sudden urgency as he lifted himself up beneath her. She sat up and unzipped her sweater, now not noticing, or at least not caring about, the coldness of the zipper against her bare chest. He slid his palms up along her body to cup her breast and ran his thumb across her nipple gently. ‘Pants off,’ she directed, and they both complied in unison, wiggling so as to stay as much under the large comforter as they could. She giggled, flustered with the effort to help him slide down his jeans. His cock tented the thick flannel boxers reserved for cold months and she wrapped her hand around the outside of their flap to bring it her mouth. With a flat tongue she circled the tip, moving wider around the head as she slowly and rhythmically engulfed him completely. His moans seemed to echo in the house, silent of the usual hum of electricity. 49 He clasped her hands around the base of his cock and thrust upward toward her face. She extricated her hands from his and used her thumbs to put pressure on either side of his pelvis, pointer fingers tucked behind his balls to find his sensitive spot. ‘Up,’ he rasped. She lifted herself above him, and using her right hand against his throat to steady herself, paused against the shock of his tip against her body. She waited. His eyes widened, then screwed shut in frustration. ‘Please?’ Tightening her grip against the sides of his throat she started to lower herself onto him, then gasped sharply as he entered with more urgency than she had anticipated. She flexed her thighs against his hip bones in an effort to slow him down but he bucked in response, throwing the blanket off her shoulders. ‘Hey!’ she exclaimed, giving him a sharp smack on the cheek. He smiled indulgently and wrapped his arms around her back and shoulders, pulling her head close to his chest with her arms pinned to her side. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered, not slowing. She wriggled ineffectively against his tight grip holding her captive against her body, and dug her nails into his ass. With a cry of mixed pleasure and pain his grip loosened momentarily, but only to flip her underneath him. ‘Happy?’ 50 She pushed his mouth onto her nipple and pushed against the warm piled of cushions beneath her. With her other hand she circled her clit. ‘Almost.’ Having completely abandoned any cover, he straddled her, using on leg to push against the floor as they panted in synchronous. Everything became indistinct in the flickering glow of the candle and the heady rush of sensation as their pulses raced one another’s…and then sudden convulsions as control was finally wrested from both of them by orgasm. Their ragged breaths bled into sighs as they lay there intertwined, taking in the scent of sweat quickly cooling and the creamy fragrance of candle, now low in its holder. The snow had stopped, and no doubt the power would be back on within the hour. She sighed, lifted her head to place her chin on his and looked thoughtfully into his eyes. ‘Yes’m?’ he smiled. ‘You know it’s your turn to get the door when the delivery guy comes, right?’ Tim and Katy shared the same birthday. For the four years they’d been married, they had alternated between who gets spoilt each year, each taking turns, instead of sharing the day. This year they both turned 30 and, since Katy had arranged a threesome for Tim last year, it was Katy’s turn to be spoiled this year. First Time Pegged 52 At nearly 6’3, Tim was an imposing presence, and he loomed large over Katy’s 5’2 frame. That was part of what attracted her to him when they first met. They had instant chemistry, and it never looked like fading. They both exuded sexuality. Katy had plans for this particular birthday. Although their sex life was generally equal, Tim was generally in charge in the bedroom. She was more sensual and better at rationalizing the sex they had, but he was bigger and stronger and more selfish. He liked to be pleased, and she liked to please him. In that sense, and only in that sense, their relationship was conventional. In every other respect, they were progressive, liberal, and adventurous. Today, she wanted to turn that on its head, and she was going to be in charge. She was going to fuck Tim like he fucked her. That evening, Tim took her to dinner, a quiet restaurant with unobtrusive waiting staff. He had bought jewelry: a necklace, bracelet and matching earrings, and perfume. She oohed and aahed, but it wasn’t glitter and glamour she wanted. Her mind was already on going home and getting started. After they’d eaten, they got a taxi home. Katy was quiet the whole way back, chewing her lip in nervous anticipation. Once home, Tim pushed to find out what exactly Katy wanted for her real treat. “So, what’s next?” he asked, sat next to her on the sofa. “Well, I know it’s breaking protocol, but I got something for you,” Katy replied. 53 “But tonight’s supposed to be about you,” said Tim. “Believe me, it will be,” she said cryptically. Katy disappeared into another room and returned with a box, wrapped in pink paper and topped with a ribbon bow. She handed it to Tim. “Awww you shouldn’t have,” he said, while beginning to unwrap the box. He opened it and stared down into it. Inside was a twisted mess of what looked like straps. Tim looked at Katy, confused, and then back into the box. He fished it out, and it had an unexpected weight. He lifted it out and recognized what it was. The tangled straps were attached to a panel. From that panel hung a long, slender dildo. It curved slightly upwards and had ridges and bulges along its beautiful length. Tim turned it from side to side in front of his face. “You… you want me to wear this?” he asked. “No Tim,” she replied with a glint in her eye. “I’m going to wear it. And you’re going to take it and beg for more.” “…wow. This is new,” said Tim, beginning to break into a wicked smile. “You’ll address me as Sir. Now undress me,” Katy said, coldly. She stood in front of him and he lifted her blue satin dress up her body, revealing the lace tops of her black stockings, and up over her hips, where he discovered she had not been 54 wearing panties all night. He ran the dress up her torso and eventually over her head, until she stood before him naked but for stockings and heels. Tim sighed with lust. “Now,” Katy continued, “strap on my cock.” “Yes Sir.” Tim straightened out the straps and wrapped them around her hips, and tucked the final one between her thighs. Her body flinched at the pleasurable contact, and Tim took a second to test if she was wet. She was. He licked his finger. “Greedy boy. Are you hungry?” Katy demanded. “Yes Sir,” replied Tim. “Then eat this.” With that, Katy pushed Tim to his knees and slipped the dildo between his lips, gripping the base with one hand and his hair with the other, as he had done to her a thousand times. She pushed it deep into her mouth and he struggled and gagged very slightly. She swung her hips back and forth obscenely, and moaned loudly. “Does it taste good?” she asked, cocking her head to one side mockingly. “Mm-hmm,” came the muffled reply. She stopped thrusting and instead used her hand to move his head back and forth instead, smiling, now with his hands obediently behind his back. 55 “Stand up and strip for me,” said Katy. “Slowly, Sir?” Tim asked innocently. “Yes, let me watch you, make it sexy for me.” Katy flopped down onto the couch and began to stroke her dildo while Tim began unbuttoning, stripping, and then blushing with self-consciousness. His awkwardness only turned Katy on me as she sat with her legs wide apart, for fist sliding up and down her appendage, still wet with his saliva. She barked orders, telling him to turn around, to slow down, to speed up, until he was naked, his erection twitching in front of him. “Good. Wasn’t that fun?” Katy asked sarcastically. “Yes Sir,” he said. It was almost automatic by this point. His hand reached down for his cock. “NOT YET,” snapped Katy. “I’ll tell you when you can touch.” Tim grimaced, disappointed. “Kneel on the couch. On all fours,” Katy said. Tim obeyed, kneeling down and leaning forward, his chin resting on the back of the couch. While he positioned himself, Katy quietly added lube to the dildo she was wearing, sliding it up and down until the entire length was slick. Tim knew what was coming. He wanted it, but not as much as Katy. “That’s a good boy,” Katy soothed, stroking his back as she 56 positioned herself behind him. “Is this what you want?” “Yes Sir.” “Beg.” “Please Sir, please fuck me Sir. I need it. I need you inside me.” Katy gripped the base of her dildo and guided the tip between his cheeks. And slowly, slowly, she teased herself into him. Tim was not used to the sensation and his body resisted at first. Katy was patient, but firm, listening closely to his breathing, allowing him to relax. With every exhale she pushed in a little further. And with every push, the grooved base of the dildo’s harness rubbed a little more against her clit. But soon, she had slipped inside him, and his body had acclimatized. She began to fuck him. Long, slow strokes at first, moaning with every sensation. Tim moaned louder, and louder, the curve of the long dildo pushing him in new and breathtaking ways. Her pace quickened. Katy’s eyes were closed now, her head thrown back, her hands gripping for anything and finding flesh, and hair, and squeezing whatever it was she found. She fucked him roughly, and slid a hand into the front of the harness, running her fingers over her wetness. She was close. “Now you can touch yourself,” Katy moaned, on the brink of climax. Without hesitation he wrapped his hand around his erection and almost immediately let out a primal noise as he brought 57 himself to orgasm, his body gripping and convulsing around Katy’s dildo, and with every convulsion he squeezed harder on her. His orgasm triggered her own, and as she watched him cum on the end of her dildo her body was wracked with pleasure, every muscle in her body tense and energized, one hand wrapped around the base of the dildo and the other on her clit. Their orgasms subsided and they were breathless. “Thank you Sir,” panted Tim. “Thank you.” A Night at the Burlesque Imagining Rebecca lying in my bed was just like watching porn as a teenager. I had to hide my sexual fantasies in the morning shower, just as I hid those x-rated videos within folder within folder in the deepest recesses of my computer’s hard drive. We’d been close colleagues, even work friends, from the start, although I had technically become her managing boss more than 3 years ago. Imagining Nick kissing me was something I couldn’t dare give myself the luxury of; he was my boss and I 59 had a boyfriend who loved me. But, nearly every night my dreams defied me by showing me images of Nick, with his face and his sweaty torso on my breasts, and the sensation of him inside me…until I’d wake with a start. Rebecca had immediately been impressive when she joined his team; bright and funny, hardworking and able to handle herself ably at an office where stress (and tempers) can run high. She was the kind of woman you immediately thought about as part of your future, one that would be the kind of partner you’d never be tempted to stray from and would share your professional goals, but also wit and warmth. The woman who, when you need it most, makes love without stopping. And even more dangerous, the kind of woman that ignites these sorts of fantasies and more at all hours of the day and night… The houselights went down and the curtain parted to reveal three voluptuous and glittering female figures. Two lay with fans at the edges of the curtain and another stretched halfnaked on a sofa. I wanted to see the reaction on Nick’s face, but as the music started, the audience shifted for a better look and I lost him in the crowd. Startled from my daydream, I groaned. I knew it was a bad idea to bring the whole company to a burlesque show as soon as it was suggested. But, Christmas dinners are already complicated to plan, and expensive, not to mention how many people drop out when they realize their attendance isn’t mandatory. So, here we were, drinking much more quickly then we all should, just to get over our initial, joking discomfort. 60 In fact, I thought I could already note the disappearance of a few pairs. My mind flicked back to Rebecca, but I didn’t need the clink of my wedding ring against my glass to remind me that these thoughts could never move from fantasy to fact. I let the three dancers relegate Rebecca to the back of my brain, and ordered a second, and then third Old Fashioned. The opening number, which had been lighthearted, ended, and was followed by a two dancer performance that employed latex corsets and moodier music for a much kinkier display. As one feigned at spanking her partner, I imagined joining them on stage for a demonstration… It seemed like the crowd had thinned a bit, with people wandering to the upper balcony for the privacy afforded by watching the dancers without the head of HR at your elbow. I saw Nick then, and he looked fully absorbed in the show. No wonder, even my blood was reaching boiling point as I watched the dancers slowly reveal more of their skin while playing at seduction with each other. I imagined myself up on stage, clothed in the same shiny black corset and thigh high stockings. Then wiggling playfully out of a black mini skirt to reveal not-very-much of a thong. …And then Nick, pushing that down my hips with his hands… And, all of a sudden, those images evaporated when my cell phone vibrated; another message from Lucas to say his business dinner was as boring as expected. I silenced my phone and buried it deep within my bag. I tried to focus on the show, but I kept catching glimpses of Rebecca watching the dancers intently, sometimes 61 whispering to a coworker beside her. Now, it wasn’t a curvy blonde I saw on the stage but her lithe frame and black hair… I imagined sitting center stage with my drink in hand, watching transfixed with lust as Rebecca gave me a private pole dance. She’d look at me with that challenging look of amused confidence, then wrap herself around the pole to reveal every part of her body I’d imagined in agonizing detail… As the performers came back out for final bows to thunderous applause and some hoots and hollers, I turned to return to the bar, sitting at the side so I could continue to mull over my fantasy. It would be so simple; just sit at the side of the bar and have a drink with her, talk about the show and shake our heads, then to brush my hand along her thighs… to hold her by her thighs, those gorgeous thighs, and rip off her panties and lick and suck until she cried: “Yes, Nick, fuck me! Fuck me like I’ve thought about you fucking me every day!” “Looks like you sure enjoyed the show, eh Nick?” I said, while giving him an exaggerated wink. “It was less of a disaster than I expected, yes. You want a drink before they cut off the tab? I feel like company generosity might soon run out, unless you think there’ll be an encore?” I said; motioning at the bottles not yet opened behind the bar. “Another time, I just wanted to say goodbye before I took off.” I smiled at Nick, then turned and fished out my phone to text Lucas to be waiting and ready for me at home. Thank You If you enjoyed this, visit lelo.com to find your perfect reading companion, and visit lelo.com/blog for more erotic fiction!