Saturday, August 10, 2013

Ghostly Domination

Ghostly Domination
 © Copyright 2003

            Leaves rattled in the wind. Branches scraped ominously against the panes of glass above her bed.  She shivered once and pulled the covers tighter around her neck, her gaze darting about the darkened room.
            The street light cast weak patterns of dappled light across the floor and walls, the moving branches forcing shadows into a macabre dance. Kayla kept her gaze attuned to the movement, watching images form and dissolve over and over. It was a distraction. It kept her from thinking about the silence that followed each reverberating clap of thunder, and the semi darkness following each brilliant electrifying shaft of lightening.
            And with the last flash from the sky, the world turned black.
            Craning her neck to peek out the window, she saw only darkness. The last bolt of lightening must have taken the power with it. With nothing left to watch, Kayla closed her eyes and forced herself to think of something besides being alone in the house with unrelieved darkness, and the constant rustle of leaves and branches outside her window. As usual, forming a fantasy in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.
            She felt it rather than saw it. Something cool flicking across her skin. The blankets had ridden down, exposing her naked breasts. Her nipples puckered and strained as if stroked with a silken touch. Straining, she tried to see through the stygian darkness. She could feel, but could not see, someone…something caressing her skin. Convinced she remained enveloped in her fantasy turned dream, she tucked her fingers beneath the headboard and released her imagination.
            Images crowded in behind closed eyes as sensation invaded her senses. Warm fingers danced along her sides, something wet flicking across the swollen buds of her nipples, alternating, first one, and then the other.
            Teeth closed around a throbbing nubbin and bit down. She moaned in pain, then pleasure as the nipple was pulled outward. Teeth scrapped along the sensitive skin in the nipple popped free. The experience shifted. She felt the alternate nipple captured, the sharp edges of teeth clamping down hard, pulling, raking the skin until that nipple too, popped free.
            When her legs began to spread, she pressed them together and met with strong resistance. Someone…something forced them apart, exposing her vulnerability. Lightening illuminated the room. Kayla remained alone.  She opened her mouth to scream, the realization that she no longer dreamed rampant in her thoughts, but no sound immerged. Pulling her hands from beneath the headboard, they moved only a few inches and stopped, restrained by an unexplainable force. She felt nothing on her face or around her wrists, but she could neither speak nor defend herself.
            The presence, for she understood that something controlled her beyond her own fantasy, drew her knees up and spread them apart. She felt the essence of something settle between them.  Fingers opened her, spreading the folds of her pussy. Somewhere in the confusion she felt the moisture between her thighs. Deep in her belly, the hunger ignited. Warm wetness speared into her, fanning the sparks into licking flames.
            "No, no," her mind pleaded, but no sound escaped her.
            Those same fingers that opened her to exploration now penetrated her, delving into her, pumping, twisting, opening. She couldn't count the number, but the fullness increased. Her body responded to silent entreaty, her hips rising to meet the gentle thrusting, her pussy accommodating the fullness. She felt a thumb caress her clit, then fold away and disappear into her pussy with fingers and palm.
            She'd never been fisted, but the experience was not like she would have imagined. Where she expected pain, there was insistence, pressure, then settlement. Kayla fucked the hand that filled her, dominated her, her hips rising and falling to match the steady restricted thrust of the hand inside her.
            Then it stilled, paused inside her as though the ghostly essence waited for her to calm, her body slowed, and stilled, and the fist flexed. Kayla arched hard. Knuckles brushed and offered pressure against a place she'd never known existed. She screamed behind the invisible gag, her body shuddering with wave after wave of pleasure as the fist twisted and pummeled the inner walls of her pussy. Her muscles clenched, meeting nothing, but the sensation of fullness intensified. Whatever nestled inside her body now found itself bathed in sweet hot honey as one orgasm followed another.
            On the fringes of awareness, Kayla felt the fist gently withdraw and mourned the suddenly empty feeling that washed over her.
            Something or someone lapped at her skin, a tongue sliding between her outer lips to capture the remainder of her climax. She felt soft pressure against the tight rosebud opening of her ass and tensed.
            She'd never been taken there, had no desire to have it be so. But she couldn't deny even to herself that she had not been curious. Something wet and cold bathed her there, then pressure as one finger penetrated. She ground her ass against the bed and squirmed. Gentle insertion continued, as though testing her, and made her hunger for more. She gasped as the finger slid deep, then withdrew and vanished.
       Her legs rose. She'd never felt additional weight shift the bed, yet someone, or something was between her legs, lifting them, higher, until even her hips rose slightly off the bed. Her knees bent, her lower legs suspended in the air. Fingers stroked her pussy, dipping in and out, pausing to tease her clit.
            Without warning, her body was invaded once more, filled to capacity and beyond as what felt like a cock thrust into her. Kayla moaned deep in her throat and tightened her legs against the immovable force kneeling between them. Deeper and harder the presence thrust, driving her downward with each forward thrust. She strained against restraints she couldn't feel, and moaned around a gag she couldn't taste. Kayla panted as the wave blossomed and swelled in the pit of her belly, radiating outward, gathering momentum. With one final, deep thrust, her world exploded around her.
            Stars ignited and exploded in the darkness behind her closed lids and she cried out behind the gag as another orgasm swept her along. Something warm bathed her inside out and trickled down her ass to pool on the bed beneath her.
            Then warmth enveloped her. She could feel dampness smearing her chest. Her legs slid slowly back to the mattress, warm honey sliding across a hot rock.
            Her hands were free.
            The invisible gag...gone.
            The warmth present moments before now missing. Her blankets were drawn over her, tucked gently about her shoulders. Something feather light brushed her cheek. The presence was fading; she could feel the balance in the room change.
            "Wait," she cried out, finding her voice for the first time.
            "Who are you?"
            As the balance returned, the air charged with energy moments before softened and stilled, a soft whisper rippling through that stillness.

Beautiful Saturday morning all,

Rain is held at bay for the first time in over a week. We've had major flooding, lives lost, and busy fire rescue teams pulling people out of dangerous situations. Goddess bless these folks for risking their lives for others in an emergency.

It's been a couple weeks and thought perhaps it was time to post another story. Not quite sure which one yet so everyone, including myself, will be surprised.

Happy doing whatever it is you love doing!


Wednesday, July 31, 2013

I know it's been a while but life happens, right? Last weekend I drove to Hays, KS to meet up with my best friend from high school who'd I'd not had contact with in 45 years. Lot of tears, lot of laughs and a lot of new memories to blend in with the old ones.

Friendship is such a valuable thing, true friendship. It should never be squander or discarded over petty disagreements. Seriously, I've had three "Best Friends" in my life, the kind you know you can tell anything, will keep your secrets, understands your deepest fears and knows your faces and knows when those faces are hiding pain or uncertainty you don't want the rest of the world to see.

This won't be the last time we get together. I won't let her get away so easy again.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

We're starting to get into a rut here; hot all day and thunderstorms in the evening, night or early morning before sunrise. I'm ready for fall.

Friday I will meet up with my best friend from high school. We lost track of each other 45 years ago, and I just found her a couple of weeks ago. I searched on and off for 20 years and couldn't believe it when I finally talked to her on the phone.

So Friday we are meeting at a halfway point between us to spend some time together. I so can't wait.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Corporate Indulgence

Corporate Indulgence
Copyright ©2002 D Fellows All Rights Reserved

“No Kevin! My desk. Eight a.m. End of discussion.”

The cell phone closed with a satisfying click. Emma dropped it into her purse and plopped the purse on the entry table. Leaning against the door, she sighed deeply, her fingers working at the kinks in the back of her neck. “Thank God this day is over.” The words came out more as a groan as she pushed off from the door and crossed to the kitchen, heels clicking against the Italian marble tiles.  Reaching up she pulled at the pins, allowing midnight black waves to cascade down her back and over her shoulders.

She stepped out of her shoes next to the counter and padded over to the fridge.  Wine.  A crystal flute from the rack over the island. She poured; sipped; sighed in contentment.  Wandering toward the bedroom, glass in one hand, the other engaged in fingering the buttons free down the front of her blouse. Tugging it out of her skirt as she crossed the threshold to her bedroom, she let it slip off one shoulder, switched the wine to her other hand and allowed the blouse to fall free and pool behind her.

Settling her glass on the nightstand, Emma moved to stand before the window overlooking the bay.  All manner of ships chugged past.  As she reached back and unfastened her skirt, she imagined the men scurrying around the decks, their skin warm, and slick with sweat. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Her palms grazed the rounded swell of her cheeks as she slid the skirt past her hips. Soon, the air would chill as the sun dropped into the darkening sea, ships becoming no more than flickering pinpoints of light in the darkness.

Her foot cradled against the edge of the chair, Emma slowly rolled a stocking down the length of her leg, loving the smooth soft skin beneath her fingers.  She repeated the process with the other stocking, wadded them into a ball and dropped them on the chair. The garter belt followed, the bra close behind.  Picking up the wine, she rolled the cool crystal across the heated skin above her breasts and let her mind drift; and settle on her last appointment that afternoon.

He emanated dark malignant sexuality. Adam Enders had arrived for his appointment with an attitude of supreme confidence and casual nonchalance. Emma recognized immediately that he didn’t give a damn if he sold her on the project or not. If she didn’t jump on it, someone else would.

Emma sipped her wine, chuckling.  She hadn’t heard two words of his presentation, but she’d heard his voice. Soft, low, commanding. And she’d felt its effect between her thighs. Hot, wet, aching. Her nipples, taut and throbbing, had pressed against the soft white silk of her blouse. He hadn’t missed that; she’d seen satisfaction reflected in his charcoal gray eyes.

Shivering slightly, she finished the wine and set the glass aside on her way to the bathroom. Thoughts still dancing lightly on the memory of Adam Enders, she turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature and pulled her hair back up and pinned it in place. Stepping into the steaming stream, Emma slid the door closed.

The pulsing water withdrew a blissful sigh as she backed into the steam. Cascading heat eased the tension in her neck and shoulders. She had not realised until that moment that Adam Enders had so dominated her thoughts since he’d walked out the door with a firm handshake and quiet promise in his smile.  Raw desire swallowed his parting words as his nails grazed her palm before releasing her hand.

Eyes closed, she slathered her arms and shoulders with rich, creamy lather, the scent of night flowers permeating the steam. Thoughts of Adam drifted into her mind as she lifted first one breast, then the other; the ruffled sponge more a caress than a means to bathing. Her nipples puckered, taut sweet cherries begging to be tasted. Fingers skimmed down over her belly, across her hips.  The fingers were his, long, tapered, strong.  She could feel them graze her exposed mound as they slid along her thighs, sliding down one leg then back up the other. 

A slow fire smoldered in her belly; a fire he’d ignited with that slow rumbling voice and penetrating gaze. The heel of her hand pressed against the curve of her pelvic bone, her fingers curling downward to slide between the swollen folds of her pussy.  God how she ached; burned for release.  Adam had been nothing but professional. She always made it a point not to mix business and pleasure. How then had he penetrated the carefully erected shield and crashed her defenses? How had he contrived to make her want him beyond reason?

A fingertip found the nub of pleasure at the apex of her pussy, rubbing it slowly.  Moaning softly, Emma reformed the image in her mind that plagued her during the drive home. Him; towering over her, predator studying prey. Her eyes closed now, she gave freedom to fantasy. She watched him, methodically removing his clothing, his gaze pinning her in place. His tan, lithe body, honed to hardness, revealed piece by piece.  Devouring him, her fingers stroked faster, slipping in and out of her pussy now, drawing forth the orgasm she craved.

Shuddering she leaned against the shower wall, panting, the hot shower easing the rigidity in her shoulders and back once more.  Slowly her heart slowed, her breathing returned to normal.  But the ache remained, a hunger for more…more of Adam Enders. Without a doubt she knew he could take her to heights of pleasure she’d never known with another man.  Yearning blossomed and took root in the pit of her belly.

She stepped from the shower and wrapped in a thick bath sheet.  Freeing her hair, she wandered into the bedroom, drying her body as she made her away to the bed. The towel dropped behind her as she crawled onto the bed and reached into the nightstand drawer. The throbbing between her legs intensified as she removed a large dildo.  Darkness had swept across the room while she showered.  One light burned at the bedside, bathing her in golden softness.

Legs parted, eyes closed, she called forth the image once more and slid the dildo deep into her pussy, arching into as though arching into a lover’s thrust. Fingers found her clit, pinching and rubbing the now ultra sensitive bud as her hips rocked and bucked against the dildo stroking her inner walls.  Muscles contracted around the thick rubber phallus, shifted now to rub at her clit.  In her desire induced state, it was Adam’s cock pounding into her, teasing the wave building inside, drawing it closer to the point of cresting.

Arching, she groaned deep in her throat as the surge crashed down, tumbling her over and over with each pulsing convulsion. She stroked deeper, wresting every last drop from deep inside.  Cum pooled beneath her on the coverlet as she slowly eased the dildo out.  Eyes closed, she waited for her body to recover.  Soon, she could distinguish the soft swoosh of the ceiling fan, the gentle ticking of her bedside clock, the harsh breathing of….

Eyes suddenly wide, she stared at the shadow leaning against the doorframe, watching her.  With quiet grace, the shadow shifted, sauntered slowly toward her until it became solid man. 

Adam stared down at her with a wry grin as he dropped her spare house keys on the bed beside her, the keys she’d slipped him as he shook her hand before leaving the office.

“You started without me,” he chastised.

Emma grinned back.  “That was just a warm up.”

He towered over her, predator studying prey. She watched him, methodically removing his clothing, his gaze pinning her in place. His tan, lithe body, honed to hardness, revealed piece by piece.

In retrospect...

So in retrospect I suppose I should have given credit to Margaret Mitchell for the title of the first post and do so now. It was a test in the initial set up of this blog. I am new at this concept of blogging so be patient with  me. My sister isn't finished training me yet.

I've been writing, and studying the craft of writing, for years. Content, for the most part, revolved around historical romance, which I do still read and enjoy. I've also toyed with story lines dealing in witchcraft, the west and paranormal.

Then, a door opened, and I wandered into the wonderful world of D/s (Dominance/submission) and BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, SadoMasochism.) It's a beautiful journey. And, as it opened, so did my interest in writing Erotica blossom, fertilized by the Marketplace series by Laura Antoniou.

My foray into penning erotica has so far flowered into two full length complete novels and a myriad of erotic short stories. Initially, this was done so my friends in the lifestyle could enjoy them. There was not as much focus on the mechanics of writing, though I did insist on a beginning, middle and end to each story. The focus, at that time was to make the men hard and the ladies wet. Based on feedback from my readership, I succeeded in that respect.

A three part series, Fifty Shades of Gray, written by E.L. James, opened up a retail market I never considered existed, especially outside of electronic literature. E-pub houses started looking for the next sexy best seller in the genre. Yes, it is officially a genre now. My sister, alluded to earlier in this post, sent me a link.

And so, the polishing of Aimee has now begun.

And apparently that same sister expects me to post the occasionally short story here. Perhaps I will.

"Frankly Scarlett, I don't give a damn."