Dec 31, 2010
Dec 21, 2010
Family holidays are such a tiresome affair. Without fail I have to drive for ninety minutes to my sister's place where I suffer through the four or five hours of her and my mother's prattling.
There are a few things to enjoy at these gatherings. The food is always good and I love my niece and nephews. It's been wonderful seeing them grow up from the pipsqueaks they were when I met them to the nearly-responsible adults they were turning into.
When my nephew pulled into the circle driveway my first instinct was to panic. Seeing him behind the wheel of an automobile still seems strange as I just can't get used to him being north of 16, much less 22. And to see him get out of the car accompanied by a young lady just didn't compute for me either.
This was an auspicious occasion; Robert was introducing the family to his girlfriend, Cassie.
Wearing tight blue jeans and a college sweatshirt, there was just something about her that left me gob smacked. Maybe it was her long, blonde hair or her toothy smile. More, I think it was the way she seemed to size me up immediately at the front door when I welcomed her with the rest of the family. She wasn't unfriendly but, still, I felt like she looked down on me even though she was half a head shorter. Her smile bordered on a smirk and I wondered if I was the only one who could see that.
I shook it off, thinking that it must have been a trick of the mind, and tried to keep my eyes off of her as we all sat down for some small talk. A chilly Michigan afternoon, everyone fought for seats closest to the fireplace. The unlucky, like me, Rob, and Cassie, ended up on the couch farthest away from the warmth. My sister-in-law tried to remedy this with an over sized quilt but I was still fought a chill.
Rob sat on one end while I sat on the other, with Cassie between us. I listened as the rest of the family interrogated her; what was her major, where she grew up, what year of school was she in, how she and Rob met. I tuned out just about everything except for her. I wasn't even hearing her voice. I sat looking at her mouth as she talked, the way she pushed her hair over her ear, the swell of her breasts under the sweatshirt. I was thankful for the blanket as I felt the stirrings of a hard-on. I was feeling like a dirty old man.
And then I felt something else.
I felt the exploring fingers of a hand, like a hungry spider, crawling over my knee. Cassie kept right on talking as if nothing happened and I worked hard to keep the questioning look from flooding my face. But, undoubtedly, she moved her chilled fingers over my jeans, heading into my lap.
I thought I was saved by the bell when the oven timer went off, summoning my sister, brother-in-law, and mother off to the kitchen. Rob's attention turned to the football game on TV while Cassie's hand continued its movement towards my crotch. Before I could do anything to stop it, her fingers grabbed on to my erection. I turned my gasp into a cough and tried to move away from her but she held on tightly.
Looking at her, you'd never know what she was doing and I began to doubt that I was truly being groped, that it was all just some kind of hallucination. I felt her hot breath on my neck as she leaned over to whisper, "If you want more, meet me upstairs in fifteen minutes." With that, she released me, threw back the quilt so it piled onto my lap, and left. I watched her ass wiggle under her skirt as she walked away.
Rob continued watching the game as I suffered through trying to get my erection to subside enough to go visit his girlfriend. There should have been guilt but I felt nothing but lust mixed with frustration and impatience. I watched the clock and waited fourteen minutes before walking quickly to the stairs, trying to not raise suspicion.
I found Cassie waiting for me in Robert's old bedroom. Though he'd moved out to college years before, my sister kept it ready for his rare weekend visits. She remained clothed in her black leggings, heels, skirt, and red sweater. She stood at the window, her back to me. She didn't say a word as she turned to me and approached. I tried to speak but she shushed me, her hands busily undoing the buttons of my shirt. Though she kept her eyes towards mine, she continued looking through me, a wry grin playing across her lips.
Her hands found my belt and my pants hit the floor seconds later. I stepped out of my shoes and pants in two quick moves before she took down my underwear. I felt a little odd being naked in front of her while she remained clothed but was turned on enough not to care.
Her eyes finally focused on mine and I knew something fantastic was about to happen. She put a finger in the middle of my chest and pushed me. I wasn't sure what she wanted but she did it again... and much harder. So much so that I took a step back. She stepped forward and pushed me back again. We did this several times until I felt something against my back. I took a glance over my shoulder to see that she was pushing me into Rob's armoire. I cocked my head and she nodded; another push and I was in, the door was closed, and I looked at her through the cherry wood slats. I heard a click and her form moved away.
I pushed on the door only to find it locked. I pushed again, harder, and knew it'd take a lot to break the lock. Before I could do anything I heard a voice.
There are things that I never want to see and I witnessed one of them that day when Cassie began to strip my nephew. She sat down on the bed, across from where I was hidden, and took off his clothes, revealing his young, handsome body. This was the kind of boy that should be with Cassie, I thought, not an old worn-out man like me. She threw her hair back over her shoulder, allowing me to see her face clearly as she hunched forward and took him into her mouth.
I knew she was putting on a show for me. I don't know if Rob had ever had her perform the way she did that day as his frequent cries of "Holy shit!" seemed full of surprise. Cassie worked him, occasionally casting a glance back to the armoire, trails of saliva following her mouth. I couldn't help myself. I began stroking my erection, my knees weakening, as I watched her.
With one of these glances, she kept turning, moving toward me. I held my breath, afraid she'd unlock the door and expose me to Rob. Instead, she stood in front of the slats and removed her skirt before shimmying out of her tights. Beneath she wore no underwear. The downy blonde hairs of her pussy were trimmed into an inverted triangle
She backed away from me, her eyes staring straight ahead, defiantly. She stopped at the bed and crawled up onto it, getting onto her hands and knees, presenting herself to Rob. He didn't need any prompting; moving up behind her and pushing himself into her. She grunted, sucking her bottom lip inside her mouth and biting it. She looked from over her shoulder back to me, thrusting herself onto Rob as he fucked her. Little passion played across her face. Instead, she looked angry and determined as my nephew enjoyed her.
He moaned, he groaned, he practically squealed while she answered each thrust with a little grunt, sweat springing from her forehead and wetting the hair at her temples as she kept her looking at me -- or where she thought I would be.
My knees had buckled and I knelt inside of the armoire, my hand flogging my cock as I watched Cassie move up and down on my nephew's cock. I watched her breasts, still under her red sweater, swaying, slightly behind the pace of her hips. I worked hard to keep my breathing from getting to hard and loud as I abused myself.
Then, without warning, he came.
He withdrew, grabbing a handful of tissues from the box next to his bed, and looking back down at her as if he'd done something wrong by making love to her. He glanced at the clock radio next to the tissues and his eyes got wide. "I gotta get back to my family. Shit!"
He began pulling on his pants. Cassie reached out her arms, lowering herself onto the bed, rolling over slowly while crossing her legs. "You go ahead," she told him, "I'll be a few minutes."
He nodded. I don't think it'd have mattered what she said, he was determined to leave. By that time he was back together. I heard the door open and close quickly.
From the bed, Cassie reached across and unlocked the armoire door. It swung open slowly and I panicked. I didn't know whether to pull up my pants or not. I grabbed them, yanking them up around my waist, my hard on resting between the teeth of my zipper. I wanted to show her that she had aroused me and I hoped that she'd help relieve me of my erection.
I stumbled out of the armoire and she watched me as I moved around the bed to her feet. She uncrossed her legs. When I started to crawl onto the bed, my hard on zeroing in on her glistening sex, she shook her head.
"Go down," she commanded.
I gulped. Her inviting sex had turned to something abhorrent. She wanted me to lick her vagina with my young nephew's spunk dripping from her, slicking her legs. I looked at her, drinking her in, lust coursing through every nerve of my body. I went to my knees and tentatively licked her vagina. The unmistakable flavor of female was there, countered with a sickly sweetness.
I couldn't help myself. I began to lick her, cleaning her, plunging my tongue into her, supping up her wetness and Rob's cum. As I licked her she began to moan and mutter, "Eat it all up..." I found her clitoris and began playing my tongue against it. She pushed my head down away and said firmly, "Not until you've eaten every drop."
I did as she wished, licking and slurping at her pussy like a pig at a trough. It seemed that the more noise I made, the more excited she became until just a simple brush from my tongue against her clitoris threw her into hysterics.
I felt her legs pushing against my face before I realized what was going on. She was crossing them again, pushing me away from her and moving back. "That's enough," she said, turning around and climbing off the bed away from me. My blood racing and my head swimming, I watched incredulously as she worked her tights and skirt back on. She walked around me to the door where she slipped on her shoes, giving me a quick glance over her shoulder. "You'd better hurry up before they miss you. Dinner starts soon."
I tucked my erection into my pants, debating about masturbating before going back downstairs but Cassie was right; I would be missed if I wasn't at the dinner table on time.
I arrived just in time for grace. I stood between my sister and mother, taking their hands while my step father said a prayer. I looked around the room, seeing Rob and Cassie with their heads bowed. My cock twinged when I looked at them and I felt overcome with guilt, getting turned on while everyone muttered "amen" and took their seats.
Dinner was uneventful until Rob got up to refill his water glass and asked who else needed more to drink. "How about some pineapple juice, Uncle Louis?" he asked me. It was such a strange question that I stammered my ascent.
He set down a glass in front of me and I took a sip. It had the same sickly sweet flavor that I tasted when I went down on Cassie. That's when I realized that Rob had been aware of everything that went on. I tried to control the look on my face and not express the shock that ran through me. Rob walked behind me, back to the fridge, giving me a firm pat on the back as he went by. I looked over to Cassie who gave me a smile. That's when I knew that I'd be visiting my nephew and his girlfriend at college very soon.
Nov 16, 2010
Two beautiful women. Twenty five feet of rope. Leather cuffs. A leather whip. All the ingredients for a wonderful night, right?
Not if you're me.
I was the object of a run-through for a sexology class. One of the women, Fraulein, would be teaching a group of college kids about BDSM with the aid of a friendly dominatrix, The Lady Dahlia Black. Fraulein lectured to an invisible audience while Lady Dahlia and I answered questions.
Why do I feel the need to be abused and humiliated? What pleasure do I get out of being spanked? Why does being tied up become a turn on?
I had no problems answering these questions. I got into a very cerebral place, pontificating about BDSM (one of my favorite things to do).
But then things changed...
The classroom faded away and the atmosphere shifted. Suddenly the questions became more pointed and I found myself completely tongue-tied.
Class was over but the rope, the whip, the cuffs, and the two beautiful women remained. What now? What did I want to do? Lady Dahlia demanded that I craft a scene to be played out. I stammered. I stuttered. I got flustered.
I outlined me tied up on the bed, spread eagle, and defenseless against the whip. But that's where I stopped. I couldn't bring myself to say what I really wanted. And, do you know why? Because I didn't want to offend anyone.
Yes, there I was, my cock turning purple from the CBT Lady Dahlia had been demonstrating, but I was afraid of being rude. I wasn't sure where the limits were and I didn't want to start spinning a tale only to find that the reality would be far less than the fantasy. I hate to be disappointed.
What did I picture in my head? I imagined Lady Dahlia whipping my cock while Fraulein sat on my face in a pair of white panties, my mouth so close but so far away from her sex. I'd be squirming under her and she'd be pinning me down, telling me not to be a baby, like a mean older sister. Lady Dahlia would stop on occasion, blowing on (and I mean blowing ON, not performing oral sex) my poor tortured member, touching, teasing me. And, later, one hand would be freed and they'd lie on either side of me, mocking me, coddling me, maybe allowing me a breast to suckle while I masturbated, ensconced between two beauties.
But did I say that? No. Did I hint at it? No. Did I want them to take charge of the situation? Yes. I didn't feel that it was my role to dictate things, even if I was being asked for my input. I just couldn't bring myself to say these things. I wanted to go over the top, I wanted to eat them both out. I wanted one to leave so I could make love to the other. I wanted all these things. But the one thing I didn't want was to be told, "No."
I'm petrified of "No." I suppose it comes from my "training" I got with my ex-wife. The constant let-downs, turn-downs, and frustration. It took the will out of me. It played into my terrible desire to please, to keep the boat on an even keel. I go to great lengths to avoid any kind of rejection -- living that life of quiet desperation we've all heard about. At least, that's how I am in the bedroom.
And how did the evening end up?
I was tied down and whipped until I finally said my safe word. Lady Dahlia prompted me about a half dozen more times to confess what I really wanted but I stayed mum on the subject. I could tell she was disappointed in me. I was disappointed in me, too.
Later, in the darkness, I gave myself permission to fantasize about Fraulein and Lady Dahlia as I masturbated with a hollow feeling in my gut, wondering why I couldn't put my desires into words.
Nov 2, 2010
This just in... the winners of the Fetisch Film Festival 2010:
Directed by Michael Simmons
Erotic mystery-thriller in lingerie, inspired by David Lynch and Eric Kroll.
in MISTRESS SUPERIOR
in MISTRESS SUPERIOR
Directed by Caeser Pink
Directed by Saara Aila Waasner
Documentary about two prostitutes and a dominatrix
BEST SHORT DOCUMENTARY:
Directed by Sini Anderson
Ex-Dominatrix visits the places of her past
BEST MUSIC VIDEO:
Directed by Francis Lawrence
BEST CONCERT CLIP:
BEST WEBSITE OF FILMPRODUCERS:
The Other World Kingdom (OWK)
Oct 31, 2010
If this story seems familiar, it's a rewrite of another one that's been expanded a bit and changed in one other important way.
As I raised my glass to toast my coworker’s departure, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Setting my drink back down, I scanned the room and found that a man at the bar was staring at me. He took my breath away. His jet black hair and dark suit only helped emphasize his pale skin. He was well over six feet tall with eyes that defined the word violet. They were the kind of eyes that I could get lost in and those eyes were focused solely on me.
It was as if I was the only person who saw him. No one around him seemed to pay him any attention. Seeing how striking he was, I thought every eye in the place—male and female—would be on him. I excused myself and went to him. As I drew closer I could smell his cologne. There was something underneath it; a sweet sourness that I had smelled before but couldn’t place. He didn’t say a word as I took the empty bar stool next to him. I thought about pinching myself to see if I was dreaming and might have if he’d not laid his hand over mine, his exquisitely manicured nails reflecting the light as he did.
I offered to buy him a drink but he shrugged it off. The intense din of the bar made conversation almost impossible but, when he finally spoke, it sounded as if his mouth were pressed against my ear. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. I nodded and followed him outside.
“You drive,” he said as we walked into the cool night air.
He sat close to me in the car. I thought he must have had a chill as I couldn’t feel the warmth of his body despite his proximity. His nearness made concentrating on the road and heeding his directions nearly impossible.
We headed out of the ‘burbs and into what used to be farm country. It was still the haven for some of the old estates and the occasional ant colony condominiums that besmirched the landscape. He lived in one of the older homes. I suppose the only word to describe it was “Gothic” with its ornate woodwork and looming façade. I couldn’t see all of it as we pulled up—the sun had finished going down as we drove—but the light from the lamps outside gave me a feeling that it was huge.
I parked in the circle drive and followed him up to the front door, watching his wonderful behind as he took the stairs. I normally didn’t pick up guys or allow myself to be picked up at bars, but there was no denying this one. I couldn’t believe how lucky I had been to meet such a sexy man.
Rather than the warm, cozy interior I expected, the entire first floor of his house was a single room; completely austere save for the stairwells and a single raised dais, illuminated from above by an unseen light source. It looked like a stage in an empty cabaret. As we got closer I saw that the dais was about three feet above the floor on some kind of solid base. It looked like granite or marble. More than a stage, it looked like something out of a morgue. The slotted grill set into the stone didn’t help dissuade me from this idea.
I found that I had stopped dead in my tracks. He took me by the hand. The shock of his cold finger startled me. Pulling me forward, he looked back and me and smiled. It was meant to be reassuring but it put me on edge even more. His white teeth caught the low light of the room and seemed to be illuminated from within. He led me to the edge of the dais before he turned me around and began undoing my shirt buttons.
I fell into his eyes again. The only thing I could hear was the faint rustle of cloth and the pounding of my heart in my ears. Yet, somewhere in the house I could hear a faint scratching. I wondered if he had pets and where they could be kept in his austere abode.
His hands went to my belt. I realized on some secret level that if I had wanted to move, I couldn’t. My cock strained against my pants and I longed for him to free it. He did. I was naked in front of him while he remained fully clothed. I reached up to remedy the situation. He took me by the wrist and lowered my hand below his waist. I felt the bulge of him beneath his pants and couldn’t wait to get at it.
I went to my knees, quickly unzipping him. I pulled his cock from his pants. Like the rest of him, it was pale, perfect, and oddly cold. My fingers wrapped around him, barely able to contain his girth. I took him into my mouth. Though his cock was rock-hard, his skin was ice cold. It was like was suckling an icicle. I half-expected him to melt in my mouth. I moved my head slowly down his shaft, opening as wide as I could to take more of him.
I took my mouth from his cock and moved it to his plump, pendulous balls. I lapped at them, feeling something unusual under my tongue. I took a peek, finding two red scars there, circular in shape and ragged around the edges. Before I could look closer, his fingers closed around my hair, pulling my head back up to his cock. I took him in my mouth again, deeper than before. He kept his fingers fisted in my hair and began slowly fucking my face.
I moaned around his cock, enjoying him pushing deeper and deeper into me. I felt him getting larger in my mouth. His hands gripped harder, pulling me away from him and to my feet. He pushed me back onto the dais where the cold stone chilled me to the core.
I found myself moving into a depression that my body filled perfectly, as if the stone had been carved with me in mind. He climbed atop me with a speed I didn’t think possible. He straddled me at the waist, pushing my hard cock up against my body. He looked down at me and smiled again. It was only then that I saw the menacing sharpness of his incisors.
When I looked from his face down his body I saw him fully undressed. Impossible! I had felt the material from his suit on me only seconds before but now I was seeing his cock resting against mine, feeling the pulse from my heartbeat echoed back from his manhood.
His chest hair was the same dark color as the hair on his head. It stood in stark contrast to his alabaster skin which was, like the stone beneath me, cooler than it should have been. He slid down, parting my legs with a knee, and grasped my cock in his hand, wrapping his elegant fingers around me. Quickly, I felt the familiar pressure against my bottom as he readied himself to enter me. I wanted him. I had since the second I felt his eyes on me. I heard myself moaning and pleading for him.
He thrust his hips and was inside me. He opened me wide and I cried out. The delicious pressure of his cock made me moan with pleasure though I was still disconcerted by the chill of his flesh.
He bent over me and I could smell his scent stronger, his sickly sweet odor. His smile of pleasure turned to a leer that filled my vision. He lunged at my neck and I could feel his cool lips on my hot flesh. And then I felt his tongue.
He wasn’t licking me so much as he was tasting me. His tongue was cold, dead. Like a piece of meat from the grocery store deli case being dragged along my neck. I shuddered though my cock didn’t falter as he squeezed it again, his hips still thrusting his cock deep inside of me.
I was trapped beneath him, yet, I didn’t care. I wanted this. I wanted whatever he did to me, more than life itself. I wanted him deeper, harder, faster.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight. His breathing filled my ear. His moans became grunts. I felt him grow larger inside of me as his grunts became a growl, low and mean. I shuddered as I felt a chill fill me from the inside. He raised his head and howled an unholy scream as he came, pumping me full of his numbing seed.
He removed himself from me and I went to adjust myself. I found my legs paralyzed. My arms were the same way. Only my eyes could move. I looked down to see his teeth flashing as he took me into my mouth. I felt my heart beating faster, fighting against the paralysis that struck me.
Lust overcame fear. My cock disappeared into his wanting mouth, taking me deeply. His tongue flitted about me, massaging my sex in a way I’d never experienced before. It felt like an invisible stone rested on my chest; I could barely breathe. I heard my heartbeat pounding in my ears, getting faster as he took me farther and farther along the precipice of passion.
And then… my breathing… came shorter… until… he pushed me over that edge. And with that pleasure came an intense pain. In the instant, the seconds slowed. With a blink, he moved from my cock to my balls, opening his mouth wide, displaying his hungry maw. He sank his teeth into me, tearing my flesh. I was cumming, my cock jerking, but nothing came out. Instead, he was draining me, feasting upon me. The world became the sucking sound he made as he drained me while I underwent the longest, most satisfying orgasm of my life.
He leaned back, howling triumphantly, crimson-colored cum streaking his chin. The sound that came out wasn’t human or like any animal I’d ever heard. Worse, whatever had been scratching before joined in his cry.
I must have blacked out after that. When I awoke, even opening my eyes proved a struggle. Everything looked like I was looking through cheesecloth. I felt my life draining out of me, my blood flowing out into the slotted grill in the stone. I heard those same scratching sounds from earlier and they were much closer now...
Sep 12, 2010
I've been remiss in blogging for the last few months. Sure, I could make excuses... and I guess that's exactly what I'm going to do.
I've had dry periods with this blog before and I'm going through another one. Maybe the next time I get out of this kind of rut I'll have the wherewithal to look back and see if the droughts have anything in common.
I've definitely been lacking in inspiration of late. Yes, I had some fun over the summer but I was also pretty stressed. I got laid off from my day job in May (and not laid much otherwise). I'm back to work now (as of August) but haven't had much of a chance to breathe since then. Even a year ago I would have taken the time to have a little fun after work, usually by hiring a girl for an hour or two of fun, but I'll be playing "catch up" with my pay checks for the next few months (years?). Plus, I've got a new book out -- nothing dirty -- and that's been keeping me busy as well.
It's strange to think that I'll be hitting the road on a book tour in November and not planning on finding any strange while I'm out there. That's not like me.
I've got a few stories brewing but nothing coming fast. If you have any words of inspiration or sources of perspiration, I'm game. Just know that I'm very aware that I've not given the world much prurient material (other than pictures) of late.