Garage

Guest writer K offers this:

Again. Not again. It was always at the worst times….

The entire neighborhood, children and dogs included, were in her yard. And here she was…with her son’s soccer coach, in the garage closet.

When he showed up at this party in the usual athletic shorts, she instantly noticed the outline of his manhood under the thin layers of polyester mesh. How his fiancé allowed him to wear those so casually, was beyond her. As soon as each family dispersed into the crowd, they made their respective exits…

His lean body perfectly curved against her as she arched back to kiss him. He wrapped a muscular arm around her torso and cupped her breast, pulling her into him more vehemently.

She braced herself against old mementos and hardware as he pounded into her from behind. They didn’t even want to look into each other’s’ eyes. The shame was almost too much, at least this time, because of the presence of their loved one’s mere yards away. But they couldn’t resist each other; it was inexplicable. The electricity was obvious at the first athletic camp practice this summer when they met. It was palpable, uncontrollable, just like their lovemaking.

The summer heat was nothing compared to the fire that they created when their skin met.

Sweat beaded on her chest as he circled her clit with confident fingers. Behind her, he gently bit her neck and stroked into her until her stomach clenched, on the verge of ecstasy.

Outside they heard excited tones from the party, a reminder that they couldn’t prolong their climax any longer. She put her hand on his, and circled her wetness more furiously. Her legs trembled as he increased his pace, slamming into her firm ass in steady, constant rhythm with their ragged breaths. As her body convulsed into his hard pelvis, her muscles tightened around him. She felt him in her core. They came together, in a rush of sweat and adrenaline. This was the catharsis they both needed after keeping face for so long. Eventually they would have to find a better solution, but now, these rendezvous would have to suffice. 

Opposing Forces

Another guest post from K.  If you are interested in writing a guest post, contact me: mrsterling2010@gmail.com

This was the most intense assignment of their careers…and they were both sleeping with the enemy…sleeping with each other. Lead media liaisons for two viciously opposing political candidates. How they would maintain their anonymity, they had no idea, but the heat between them emanated from somewhere deep, and foreboding.

He slid her conservative sheath dress over her thighs, and onto her hips…just enough to allow him to grip her ass in his strong hands; possessing her body. She loathed and lusted after this sensation of being the object of his desire. The dissonance…the dichotomy… made her body clench in ways that begged him for more. He reciprocated, so determined to make her succumb, and so earnest to please her; to control her orgasm with his essence. He was so enamored by her, by her relentlessness to achieve and lead. She was at odds with everything he considered attractive and appropriate, but oh how he wanted her.

Raising her to him, he pressed her back into the wall and thrust into her, feeling her inner walls clench his rigid member. If anyone caught them here, in this dark supply closet at a very public debate, their careers would be over, and their clients’ rivalry would be cast into ridicule. How can men be entrusted with high office and lack the ability to maintain the loyalty of their most prominent team members? This alliance was doomed. But perhaps that was the exhilaration they both craved in this overly politically correct, charade, of government process.

Her nipples hardened against his chest. She could hardly contain her screams. He filled her, stretched her, and her body craved more. As if he could sense her coming apart in his hands, he pressed into her more firmly, held her to him with one arm, and reached to place one hand over her throat. She could barely breath, her screams were stifled. He pounded faster, and faster, maintaining pressure on her neck. Suddenly, he tilted his head down and bit her nipple through her dress. She lost control. On the brink of losing consciousness, she released, soaking him in her desire. He barely slowed himself, pulsing into her until she hung limply onto his shoulders, and came as her body milked his, as if it were only natural.

He lowered her with a kiss. Her knees were still weak. Clothes disheveled, ties and cuffs undone, they had mere moments to make themselves presentable before they returned to their stations. These minutes felt like hours, and walking into the light of day felt surreal after such risqué encounters. In these moments, they did not feel like bitter rivals, but perfect complements. Perhaps this was a lesson they could draw from these dark places. 

Control

Guest blogger K offers this:

Their bodies twisted, tangled, emblazoned together in fire; in passion.

His tawny skin felt hot, his muscles hard against her soft flesh. The pounding syncopation of their movements was more than she had ever felt with another man. His masculine power reverberated against her inner walls, throughout her body until she felt she may come apart entirely.

He had a workman’s hands. Rough and calloused from years of manual labor. His brute force, the way he pulled her into him as though she had no mass at all, made her succumb to him each time. This affair, torrid as it were, was her escape. In a life of constant control, meticulous organization, with him she did not have to think; she could relinquish all control to him and find all-encompassing ecstasy.

He reveled in her beauty, and cherished each time he was able to lay kisses upon her golden skin. Collarbone to pelvis, she embodied feminine curvature. All sweet scent and taste, he yearned to entice her body to release.

He took her in his arms, gripping her around her ribs and coaxing her legs up against his sides. He pounded relentlessly, denying that this would ever end, that they would have to go away separately again. She felt him throb inside of her, growing in anticipation of their mutual climax. He held the back of her head in one hand, and she looked into his eyes. Whether this was simply passion for her, or something more, was unclear, but he loved the way she looked at him. Her defiance shone through the blue, even though she submitted to him, and it made him crazy. He would see those eyes when they were apart, dreaming of ways to make her come for him.

Their climax happened like a flood, she moaned and he released a deep guttural growl. Goosebumps raised on her skin, and sweat glistened on his broad chest. They lay there, together as one, neither prepared to leave for another several days before they would see each other again. For now, this is what they had, and it satiated what each of them were missing in their own private lives. They would ask no questions; an unspoken understanding was made long before they’d ever shared their bodies. And until they were ready to take control of their own happiness, this is where they would find respite. 

 

 

Unrequited

We lived in the basement at a mission in Baltimore.

We lived in a small apartment near the college where I taught in Ohio.

We practically shared her tiny dorm room.

We were together. Sometimes. Never. Always?

Never.

Touching her hand, I saw it, though. Saw it all.

That no matter where we were, we'd be together. We'd be in love.

Her face sunk when she found out I had a girlfriend. Perhaps I shouldn't have told her ... and gotten rid of the girl.

She sent a concerned email when she met my soon-to-be-wife. Was everything ok, she wondered?

No. Clearly, it wasn't. Because a wedding was planned, but it was not with her.

I'm not even sure I can write this. Or that I should.

I'd open an email from her, and all would melt away.

I'd see her and my heart would leap.

With the benefit of time, I can see events that would have happened.

I can see a future.

And I can see that after I let her go, my life took a path. One I desperately tried to escape. Those attempts at escape. They hurt the most. Leading me in unfamiliar directions -- away from the man who loved (still loves) her.

10 years ago, I had it all worked out. I'd move away. I'd start all over. Even go back to college.

I'd find a way to bring her along. Or, invite her out once I'd been established.

And wasn't that always the problem? Instead of taking a the moment when it came, I had to create the circumstances to make it perfect...and then, the moment never came.

Instead of asking her to marry me right then, the moment I knew, I waited. It wasn't right. It couldn't be right.

I've felt that intensity ...or something very close one other time. Since she left. Just once. There are probably maybe one or two or three in the world for whom each of us has such a connection. So, I've met my second.

But instead of using the lesson of M to guide me... I've become more guarded, more afraid. More careful in my execution of life.

I don't really know why I'm doing this. Writing this. But I keep thinking it. And it haunts me.

Not just because I may have saved her...but because I could have saved myself. Could have been the me I needed to be. Could have been me.

I think she loved me. I feel like she did. Maybe that's what causes the pain. I can never know, now. I could ask her sister, but I don't want to bring up that topic. Though I want to hear those words: M loved you.

But that's selfish. And painful. And won't change the reality.

All I can do now is this: Monica, I love you.

Can she hear me? Does she know?

Midday Cravings

Guest blogger Lexi on some office naughtiness:

The day was tedious…dragging minute by minute…

She was already distracted by the thought of their last tryst. It was completely happenstance that they ran into each other in the seldom used stairwell of their office building. It must have been mutual understanding; when their eyes met, pupils dilated. With little more than a scan of the upper and lower staircases, he pulled her into a corner and kissed her ferociously. She met his onslaught with equal vigor, gripping his crisp button-down in her fists as their tongues entwined.

He ran his hands down her back and cupped her firm ass in his hands before they heard a door click open above them. Startled, but smirking with knowing naughtiness, they smoothed their hair and clothes and went separately, without a word. She knew she would see him again. They were friends outside of work; they’d engaged in innocent flirtation here and there, but only acted that one time…

Now, she thought, should be the day. She sent him a quick text… “stairs…5”

No sooner than she arrived at their spot did he appear. He grabbed her hand and led her to the bottom most stairwell, where there was a generous space underneath in which no one could be seen from the doors on either side of the hall.

Feeling the rush of nervous excitement and the telltale clenching of the muscles between her legs, she knew the possibilities of this encounter would be too sweet. He pulled her into the dark crevice and pressed her front against the wall; she reached out and braced her hands on the cold cement brick. The warmth against her back made her yearn for him. She arched into his groin, feeling his arousal through thin khaki.

His hands traveled around the waistband of her pants, and un-slipped the hook closure, sliding his hand quickly into her lace panties.

She stifled a gasp as he whispered “oh my god, you’re so wet… you feel so good.” His fingers traversed the smooth, wet curves of her womanhood, entering her with 2 fingers as he wrapped his other hand over her mouth.

It felt so forbidden, but oh so good. The adrenaline compounded with his skillful circling motions sent her over the edge. She could fuck him, right here in the stairwell and not give a damn. Of course there was no time for that…surely their 15 minutes was nearly up. She felt herself edging on the brink of orgasm. He kissed the soft spot behind her ear and bit gently into her neck. His hand slipped from her mouth and found the low neckline of her shirt. Gruffly, he reached into her bra and caressed her breast, feeling her nipple harden in his palm. He let out a soft groan as he flexed his hips into her backside, working with the motion of his fingers sliding in and out.

As he tugged her nipple she came. Every muscle inside her clenched and flexed around him, dreaming of his member thrusting into her. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry of pleasure as her head rocked back onto his shoulder.

Looking down at his hand as he withdrew it, she glimpsed at his watch, noticing they only had 2 minutes left before they were each expected back to their respective areas. She re-clasped her pants and wiped the wrinkles and dust from her shirt. She turned quickly, looking from his still prominent erection to his eyes, biting her lip mischievously. Grabbing him in one hand, she leaned close to kiss him on the cheek, and whispered “I’ve got you next time.”

Next time. Oh, there would be a next time.

With a wink, she exited, leaving him to compose himself while she imagined their next encounter.

 

 

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Sydney and Thalia

Guest blogger Lexi writes about an attraction that can't be denied:

Sydney never considered herself a lesbian, even bi-curious. Maybe it was Thalia’s androgyny. Maybe it was her insistence. Maybe it was the way she looked at her like she was starving every time their eyes met.

But part of it... most of it, in fact, …was the sex.

Long after their attempt at monogamy ended, their trysts continued. Neither of them could get enough. As women, they knew exactly what women wanted... and how to stimulate just the right places at the right times. Sydney could only reason that it was a woman's innate knowledge of how another woman's body operated that allowed the two of them to achieve earth shattering multiple orgasms ... Every. Single. Time.

When Thalia texted her, there was always an insistence.

“Come get me when you’re free.”

Unlike a man, everything about her was soft. So the aggressive, brusque passion Sydney experienced with a man was replaced with an equally powerful sensuality that naturally permeates within a woman. Thalia’s skin was soft as her hands ran up Sydney’s ribcage to cup her breasts briefly before giving her a ravenous kiss and pulling her shirt over her head.

She showered soft kisses along Sydney’s neck, from earlobe to clavicle, gently embracing her waist as her lips traveled south to her navel. Goosebumps rose on Sydney’s skin in anticipation when Thalia looked up at her through her eyelashes. She deftly released the button on her jeans with one hand and leaned down to kiss the sensitive spot on Sydneys hip, close enough to her pubis to make her muscles clench. Thalia hooked her fingers into Syd's jeans and panties and swiftly forced them both down and off her feet.

Wearing only a blue silk bra, Sydney lay exposed under Thalia, who looked upon her body as one would look upon Aphrodite. Lust crackled in the air like electricity between them. Almost entranced, Thalia's fingers slid between Sydney’s legs, immediately finding her wet and swollen clit. Sydney released a sigh of relief as her head tipped back and her hips lifted in response to the touch she came to relish.

Thalia circled her bud with skillful fingers, occasionally leaning down to suck softly, coaxing Syd’s body into her own before inserting two fingers inside her. Syd was ready for this; she moaned and moved into her, begging for release already. Thalia paused, her fingers still buried inside Syd’s softness. Her free hand grabbed Sydney’s forearm and gently pulled, suggesting she straddle her. Sydney looked into her eyes, excitedly biting her lip. With a smirk, Thalia began a rapid come hither motion, catching Syd completely off guard.

“Oh fuck” Syd breathed. She threw her leg across Thalia's groin and ground her pussy against her hand. Thalia took Syd's nipple into her mouth and sucked hard, gently twisting her other nipple between her fingers. Syd was lost in ecstasy, writhing against the exquisite friction of bodies and Thalia's relentless stroking of her sweetest spot. The combination sent her over the edge. She was coming apart as Thalia released her, pressed her body down into the seat, and ravenously pushed her knees to either side, wrapping her body underneath Sydney. Abruptly she pounded her fingers into Syd's pussy and pumped, stroking and tapping her g spot each time. She pressed on Sydney's mound as she sucked and licked tight circles around her clit, feeling her core tighten with her mounting orgasm.

Sydney came with a scream, sweat covering her in a sheen across her body. She convulsed as the orgasms rippled through her being; Thalia coaxing and milking her body for its entirety. There was never an abrupt stop, making it all the more savory as she took her lovers' body to the brink, and tenderly cajoled her back. So unlike a man, but oh so satisfying.

 

For more from Andrew Smith, follow @ASmithTweets

 

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Dangerous Pleasures

A submission from a new reader... thanks to K for her work on this:

Dangerous Pleasures

Something about the affirmation, and the risk, and the convergence of male and female energy made her yearn for new male encounters… The static in the air from sexual attraction, and the ignition of a flame when new bodies touched... Everything was new; every kiss, every drop of sweat, every hitched breath was charming – and the risk of mundaneity was null when you commit to non-commitment.

There is something inherently macabre about lovers meeting anonymously; placing trust in photographs and text messages, but finding solace in the fact that they’re temporary, and the enraptured payoff always worthwhile. This is the preference when you are a collector of experiences, and an addict for euphoria.

There was no use for names when she opened the door in her silken thigh length robe. They both knew the arrangement. He was beautiful; a picture of male physique: Broad shouldered, clean shaven, and outwardly confident. She had to wonder how she ever landed this deal; but in truth it was easy…

The drive toward mutual need.

As soon as they were behind closed doors, passion erupted from silence. He embraced her, heat emanating through layers of silk and cotton. As they kissed and familiarized themselves with each other’s bodies, he pulled her robe down over her shoulders and exposed her taut, perky breasts. She felt her nipples, stiffened by arousal, press against the firmness of his chest. He grabbed a fist of her hair at the nape of her neck and kissed her with seductive force. Her vision blurred from the intensity with which the encounter began; she felt tipsy with heady arousal.

Guiding her backward by her hair, he led her to the edge of the bed. Untying her robe, he grazed his thumb over her breasts, giving each nipple sensuous flicks of his tongue. She moans, moist from the aggressive hold on her hair and the sharp sensation of his tongue on her breasts. She needs him inside her. Such a primal need, she squirms against his hardened cock, still enveloped by denim. She feels him throb between her thighs, confirming his desire for her body, for his release.

When he releases her to use both his hands to grasp her hips, she frees herself from the sleeves of the robe, allowing the dim light to cast shadows on her full body. He relishes its newness to him, and stares wide eyed as his lips play into a smirk. When he pulls her to him she catches the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing the concrete slab of perfectly smooth muscle underneath. She starts a light trail of kisses from his left shoulder, down his collarbone and up the side of his neck before gently tugging his earlobe with her teeth. She is brazen now... teasing him with her tongue as she presses her breasts into him and uses her deft fingers to free his belt and then the button fly of his jeans, releasing his throbbing, perfect cock.

As she strokes, she clasps the back of his neck with her free hand, challenging his dominance and looking him in the eyes. His fingers  digging into her hips now; his breath catching as he bites down on his lower lip to will himself to last longer. With a brusque kiss, he drops his jeans and effortlessly lifts her up and onto the bed. Placing one hand on her clavicle, she obligingly arches back, offering an erotic view of her breasts and sex. Still standing, he pulls her to him with his free hand and places his member on her cleft. She is wet, anxious for the release he will give her. He strokes her swollen clit with his cock, making her moan and arch toward him. His hand locked on her throat, making blood rush to her head and send the room into a haze.

Her legs were already shaking in anticipation when he slammed his rock hard cock into her. It was a delectable fullness, with just the right edge of pain. She felt complete when connected so intimately; able to give and receive freely what each wanted so badly. She felt him stroke every hidden bundle of nerves deep inside her. He pounded into her ruthlessly, one hand gripping her hip so tightly she was sure to bruise, the other hand gripped on her throat. She was coming undone…her wetness providing perfect motivation for him to continue. She played with herself for his hungry eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted to see. Circling her clit and gently tugging on her nipples, orgasms were rippling through her body. She could barely hear his moans and animalistic growls as she found her release. This was her nirvana.

He pulled out in time for her to take him in her mouth and milk him completely. She circled her tongue around the head and grasped his balls in her hand. His legs quaked as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and filled her mouth with hot cum. She was thirsty for him in a way he had not experienced with another woman, and it sent him over the edge.

With sighs and gentle moans of ecstasy, they lay together embraced for the last few moments of their encounter, enjoying the silence of anonymity and mutual pleasure and warmth of bare skin on bare skin.

They both knew they would likely never speak again - in fact, had never actually spoken, and the understanding provided a comfortable parting. One last kiss at the door, for gratitude, for memories’ sake, and for trust, and he was gone.