Archive for the Sugasm Category

Gloved

Posted in Erotica, Sugasm on September 18, 2009 by naughtysecretary

glove

She slipped the glove slowly up her arm. It came to rest between her elbow and shoulder. She admired herself in the mirror, her hands running over the curves of her waist, the round of her breasts, the smoothness of her bare mound. The satin felt glorious against her skin.

She turned to him, the fleck of grey in his eyes matching the silver in his hair. He couldn’t take his eyes of her nubile naked flesh, her creamy breasts bouncing with each step she took as she teetered upon her heels. His voice was low and steady as he spoke.

“Come over here, Annette, and stop your parading about,” he commanded. She immediately obeyed him and quickly presented herself for inspection. His eyes explored her body; the ivory lace of her suspenders, the sheen of her stockings glowing in the half light of the room. Her sandy blonde hair framing her face, her blue eyes big with curiosity. Her lips were parted in a half-smile. She knew how beautiful she looked; it was part of her youthful exuberance.

“Take your heels off and climb onto the bed.” She did as he asked, and kneeling, waited for further instruction.

“Now touch yourself. Feel the satin against your bare flesh, run your hands over your skin and feel how the material feels against your own softness.” His rich voice alone sent shivers through her. She continued to obey him and ran her hands over the back of her neck, down past her shoulders and onto each pert breast. She pinched at her nipples through each glove, her own peaks forming and growing in hardness underneath her touch. She threw her head back and moaned as she strummed her own flesh for him, his eyes never leaving her.

“Good girl, good girl,” he praised, aware that his own hardness was begging for attention at the sight of her playing on the bed. He unbuckled his pants and let them slip to the floor, his erection bobbing free as her hands wandered in between her thighs to her waiting cunt.

“Touch yourself, that’s right. Touch yourself. Feel the glove graze against your pouting lips, your engorged clitoris, wetness coating each finger, spilling from you. Touch that beautiful pussy of yours,” he beckoned while he stroked his cock. The look in her face was urgent, maddening. He knew how much she loved to watch, how much she needed it. He picked up his pace, his large hand caressing his smooth shaft over, and over, and over again while she bucked on the bed. He could tell she was close to the edge; she was steadying herself with one hand, the other frantically rubbing at her swollen flesh. She whimpered as she continued to watch him pleasure himself, his cockhead already glistening with pre-cum. He stood and made his way to the bed.

“Tell me. Do you want my cock in you yet?” She nodded enthusiastically, biting on her bottom lip, his hard flesh merely inches from her mouth as she continued to fuck herself.

“Show me how much, Annette,” he cooed, his hands smoothing over her hair as her tongue darted out to meet his shaft. Her mouth felt exquisite against his warm erection, swirling and dipping over the tip of his cock, slipping him past her lips and to the back of her throat. He grabbed fistfuls of her hair and slowly started to fuck her, her breasts swaying with each thrust, her bullet hard nipples rubbing against the soft sheets. She was breathtaking to behold as she sucked cock eagerly, summoning his orgasm to the surface with ease. He withdrew from her, the sensation becoming too much too quickly. He wanted more.

He walked to the other side of the bed and positioned himself behind her, his bare cock nuzzling against her. She was drenched, her juices coating the fingertips of the glove. She continued to masturbate, grunting as he slipped himself between each arse cheek. She wriggled and writhed like a cat on heat, presenting her flesh for the taking with each of his teasing thrusts. It was only seconds before she was pleading with him.

“Please fuck me. Please fuck me and make me come. I want to feel you explode inside of me.”

It was at that moment he pushed into the depths of her, her scream of pleasure immediately bursting into the air. He used his full length to bring her to orgasm, each thrust forward sending waves of pleasure pulsing through her, her velvet heat clenching down around him. She reached underneath and rubbed his balls with her gloved hand as she came, the material damp and smooth against his heavy testes. That was enough to send him over the edge along with her, his cock shuddering, rivulets of his come erupting inside of her. It took a good few minutes for both of them to recover on the bed. He finally broke the silence.

“That will teach you to play dress up in front of me…”

The Balance of Power

Posted in Erotica, Sugasm with tags on March 13, 2009 by naughtysecretary

I was beyond flattered when fellow blogger E.B. Addis asked me to write a piece together. He’s an incredibly talented writer, and the pairing was my complete pleasure. I hope you enjoy The Balance of Power, and please, take a look at his work.
~ NS


Miranda looked Jules in the eye and pushed her arse up against her tied slut’s face. Leaning forward with one hand on the big leather couch, she reached back and held the woman’s hair, her hips rotating and grinding. Her face was losing composure, but her command was clear.

“Mmm, that’s it, pretty pet, now lick my arse.”

A truly submissive moan of helpless arousal came from Adrienne as she lovingly bent to the task of pleasing her mistress. The feel of the stranger’s penetrating gaze upon her trashy behavior left her feeling completely exposed and vulnerable, her sweaty body twisting against her bonds as she trailed the tip of her tongue over the sensitive little bud before her.

Jules sat opposite the women whilst he quietly nursed his drink. Miranda was certainly proving to be a creature with intriguing qualities. She had trained her pet well, and was clearly as turned on by exercising her power as the sensations of that agile tongue. All the while she watched his face and felt his eyes on her. He watched her beautiful bosom heave as she moved, barely restrained by her bra. She saw his eyes travel to her rump, and she rolled her hips for him, pulling hard on Adrienne’s hair as she looked back over her shoulder. It had taken just a few challenging words for Miranda to end up here, within the spectacle before him. Perhaps I should try that more often, he smiled to himself, then corrected the thought. Miranda wasn’t your everyday woman, and the lascivious words he had whispered to her during their meeting would probably fetch him a slap with any other female, and rightly so. She brought out something predatory in him.

“Deeper, whore,” Miranda demanded, meeting his eyes and allowing herself a moan at the look of lust and admiration she saw there. As Jules watched her assertively use her tied companion, her formidable level of lust was clearly visible just under the surface, and he began to imagine that seeing her hit her own limits would be quite a thrilling prospect.

While Adrienne strained against the ropes that held her in the heavy oaken chair, tongue circling, sucking at her tender skin, Miranda pondered how they had come to this situation so quickly. Why did she feel such an intense need to please Jules, a virtual stranger? She had only known him but for a few impersonal meetings. She let out another, longer moan as she felt Adrienne’s tongue drag across her nerve endings with deliberation. Her breath started to quicken. She tried to remain composed while her body threatened to give her away. She looked to Jules sitting comfortably, his long legs extended, the glass balanced in his long fingers. Judging by his composure, you’d think the sight before him was an every day occurrence. Maybe it was. Perhaps it was all of the unknowns of this man that drove her to prove herself, maybe it was the challenge he presented. “I don’t know,” he had responded when she had extended the invitation. “As I have aged I have come to learn my tastes very well. They’re not for everybody.” Now she had him here, and she wondered about his cock, and just how long it would be before she had it all over her cunt, her mouth, deep inside her arse. The idea sent shivers throughout her body as she continued to push down on Adrienne’s eager tongue. She felt certain she would be rewarded for her diligence.

“Do you like what you see, Jules?” Miranda’s emerald eyes shone. They were darker now, brimming with desire and flecked with heat. Her proud nipples pushed through her sheer bra.

Jules stood, setting his glass aside, and walked closer to the two writhing women.

“Do I like what I see?” His relaxed voice replied, as he ran one finger down Miranda’s back, slowly tracing each bump of her vertebrae from her neck to her pulled-aside panties. He pressed down with his palm, bringing a moan from her as he forced her to arch her back further.

“And just what is it I see?” He met Adrienne’s lust-filled eyes and worked his fingers into her sweaty hair. He pushed her head against the round arse, then reached underneath and stroked his long fingers gently over Miranda’s wet, swollen mound.

“What I see is two whores, both eager to be used, neither yet aware of her own depths of desire.”

Miranda moaned and writhed in an attempt to get his fingers to press against her while pushing back on Adrienne’s penetrating tongue. He grabbed a handful of her fiery hair and lifted her head to look at him again.

“So you think you’re in control?” he said, close to her panting face. “I certainly hope you don’t think I’ll look favorably on an orgasm right now.”

A wave of lust coursed through her body at his words, and as he let go Miranda dropped her head and moaned. He returned his attention to the bound Adrienne, pushing aside Miranda’s hand to take control himself. He ground her face against Miranda’s crotch, moving her all around the wet, swollen, open parts.

“Is that how you please your Mistress?” He demanded.

Adrienne could only respond with her own moans, as she feverishly worked her tender tongue at her mistresses’ pleasure. He crouched down, Miranda’s grinding arse right by his face, and looked closely into the slut’s eyes as he guided her mouth to Miranda’s clitoris.

“Give this whore the pleasure you know how to bring her,” he said, his quiet words shocked into forceful command by his cruel fingers tweaking Adrienne’s nipple. Her reaction was extreme, and Miranda’s arousal jumped at the muffled cry into her hungry pussy, bringing out her own cry as her legs began to shake.

“Are you going to bring her climax, little fuckdoll?” he asked, still in complete control of Adrienne’s head, moving her mouth up and down. This commanding man now brought her to serious purpose, and she continued to lick, nip, suck, and probe at her mistress. Miranda felt herself slipping, struggling to hold herself back from the precipice, and quivering, she surrendered to her first climax erupting throughout her body. She threw her head back and howled, backing up to mash her sodden cunt against Adrienne’s face. Both women moaned in unison, Miranda bucking in heat over and over again, screaming with Adrienne’s tongue embedded deeply inside her.

When both women finally grew silent and still, Jules quickly straightened and unzipped his slacks. They fell to the floor with a hiss, both women lifting their heads at the sound as they recovered. He stood, his thick cock resting in his hand. Instinctually, Miranda reached for it, and Jules contemptuously swatted her hand away, grabbing a fistful of her hair instead. Her squeal penetrated the air, so much so that Adrienne involuntarily jumped in shock. He had their full attention now. The first smack against Miranda’s rear was louder than her squeal. The second, third and fourth connection rang out in the big room, one after the other, pushing her body forward with the force. Her squeals quickly turned into gasps turned into moans as the vibrations hit her wet pussy, then suddenly he had two fingers inside her, roughly penetrating her far more deeply than that tongue had.

“Those are for coming without my permission.” The tone in his voice had changed and now resembled a deep growl. He withdrew his fingers from her, his hand coming down a fifth, sixth and seventh time with equal velocity, wet digits slapping against her hot skin. Her body shuddered before his very eyes, her head hanging in blissful exhaustion, her red hair covering her face.

“And those are for being a wanton whore.” He looked down the length of Miranda’s body to find Adrienne’s eyes burning with lust just over the curves of her round arse. Smiling, he licked his lips and winked at her. He hadn’t forgotten about their loyal companion. It was time to put her through her paces. He was enjoying the shock painted on her face.

“I think it’s time for a change of plans,” he announced as he pulled Miranda to her feet by her hair. She stood teetering giddily on her heels. He pushed her down, her inflamed bottom finding comfort on the cool leather. Her face showed a mix of confusion and arousal as Jules walked over to Adrienne and quickly untied her. He returned with the white nylon rope and snaked it over and around Miranda’s wrists, binding them together. She started to talk but his eyes warned otherwise and she halted immediately. With Miranda secured, he returned to Adrienne. His rigid cock bobbed before her face. She wanted to reach out with her tongue, taste his pre-cum, take his length fully to the back of her throat. But she knew better and remained still.

He looked over to Miranda while rubbing his shaft against Adrienne’s soft flushed cheek. “This could have been yours if you hadn’t been so greedy and impatient.”

Anger grew in Miranda’s eyes, yet she said nothing. He circled the tip of his cock over Adrienne’s hungrily reaching lips and painted them with his pre-cum. He rubbed himself against her other cheek slowly as he spoke.

“You thought you had all the power, didn’t you, Miranda?” Jules pushed his cock firmly into Adrienne’s mouth. She took half his length as her tongue swirled over his warm taut skin, her eyes closing to take in the moment. She feathered the underside of his cock, beckoning him deeper. His fingers twisted in her hair as he stroked his cock in and out of her, savoring the silky wetness of her mouth. He enjoyed the sight of her lips stretched around his thick shaft, and sighed as he stroked her cheek tenderly with his fingers. “You want it all, don’t you?” Adrienne opened her throat to his forceful thrust, and responded with a long, low moan.

“My, you are a little service slut. No wonder she relishes your mouth so much.” Jules shoved his cock deeper still, his hands running through her silken locks, clenching fistfuls as he moved in and out of her velvet lips. He watched his length disappear and then reappear, in and out, in and out. Adrienne’s eyes fluttered open to catch his stare, and a pang of lust immediately surged within his belly, his cock twitching in her warmth. He looked over to Miranda, a hot wriggling mess only a few feet away.

“Tell me Miranda, do you like what you see?” His eyes burning bright as his cock continued to slip in between Adrienne’s lips, his grip tightening in her hair. Miranda wouldn’t answer. She sat and watched, her jaw slightly ajar as she watched Adrienne’s head bob. She looked at Jules but remained silent.

Jules twisted his fist tightly around Adrienne’s hair, her yelp muffled as she continued to suck cock. His balls felt heavy, ready to explode as her lips took over gliding feverishly upon his shaft. The base of his cock glistened as the tip pounded into the back of her throat.

“Finger yourself, pretty pet,” he commanded, and Adrienne obeyed. She ran her fingertips into her wetness and then over her clitoris lightly as she continued to suck. She moaned, sending a jolt into him yet again. He was close to coming. He looked at Miranda again. She sat with her legs apart, he pelvis forward, her pussy grinding into the leather. She rocked her hips slightly as she watched, the anger still dancing in her eyes.

“I asked you a question, do you like what you see Miranda? Answer me now or suffer the consequences.” Adrienne moaned as his grip tightened again, his hand pulling her hair down at the base of her neck. Her mouth opened further, and he shoved his cock down her throat with new force. His other hand found his way past her thong, past her own hands and to her sodden cunt, two, then three fingers invading her heat. She was incredibly wet, and it wasn’t long before his hand was covered in her. He wiped her wetness all over her cheek as he continued to fuck her mouth, and it was at that moment of dominance that Miranda answered.

“Yes,” she hissed, rocking her hips, grinding herself again the couch further. “Yes, I love watching you use her like a whore. I love watching you fuck her face, fuck her mouth, fuck her with your hand. I want to see you come all over her face as she comes, I want you to make her scream out in agonizing pleasure. I want you to give yourself fully to her, spend yourself all over her skin, and then come and plunge yourself into me. I want her to watch as I fuck you back, take your cock, milk you for everything you are worth. And I wont be through until you have nothing left to offer.”

And that was all it took to tip Jules over the edge. He felt the surge beckon in his balls, felt the electric swell run down his shaft. He pushed himself all the way into the back of Adrienne’s throat, his seed spilling into her mouth. He then withdrew, rivulets of come streaming across her face, lips and mouth, dripping onto her heaving breasts. It was at that instant her own orgasm hit, and screaming, Adrienne came crashing with Jules. Their moans were enough to send Miranda spiraling along with them, and she came hard writhing against the cool of the couch, moaning like a dirty whore as she slipped over the leather, her hips rocking as the waves of pleasure washed over her body.

Finally, after their gasps subsided, all three were limp and still. Miranda’s laugh was the first to break the silence.

“Wasn’t that the perfect introduction, Jules?” Her imp-like grin beckoned a deep chuckle from him.

Mouth Music

Posted in Erotica, Fleshbotted, Sugasm on December 24, 2008 by naughtysecretary

lipsYou recently confessed that you think about me daily.

That was a bad move on your part.

Why, you ask? Your admission only adds fuel to the already blustering fire, the need within me to make you seethe with an uncontrollable and dire lust for me. So to match yours, Mano-a-mano, I’ll give you a confession of my own.

I think about being on my knees and paying homage to that beautiful cock of yours often, daily in fact. I think about such things in the shower, whilst driving, when I fuck myself slowly on my bed amongst crisp sheets. My hands wandering over my perspiring flesh, my mind swimming with imagery of you. Has my admission started to stiffen you yet, even a little? Can you feel the blood surging down your length to the very tip of your thick prick, the heaviness of your balls begging to be taken in hand while you devour these exact words?

Mouth music.

What if I told you I can still feel the tingle of my own climax pushing through my body right now, this very second, the scent of my own arousal still lingering on my fingertips as I type, the wet of my cunt begging for your attention? What if I confess that only moments ago, I was sent spinning into my own heady orgasm, dreaming of you filling my mouth and pulling my hair as you came hard like a schoolboy deep into my throat?

I’d happily hedge a bet you are rock solid by now, pulsing, wanting, needing more. How I wish you could see the satisfaction spread all over my face. I warned you long ago that I was a temptress, I told you my aim was to seduce you from the beginning. Perhaps you’ll believe me as I up the ante and taunt you with the imagery of my own fantasy.

Let me set the scene: You sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, me nestled at your feet amongst the plush of the thick carpet, my naked reflection mirrored by the expanse of the suite windows in the half light behind me. Not only can you look down between your legs to see the green of my eyes, the flicker of mischief pass my lips. Oh no. Look beyond that and straight ahead. Cast your eyes upon the curve of my back, watch every muscle move and flex as I run my hands slowly up and down your hard thighs, my mouth following their path, my mood dark and my want piqued by the gift of your flesh presented before me. I can almost hear you moan as you feel my breath on the underside of your shaft, ever so lightly hitting the warmth of your skin with warmth of my own.

Oh fuck, you say? Oh fuck indeed. You know your pleasure ignites my own, your gasps only pushing me to make you tremble with raw anticipation further. Can you feel the heat of my lips taunting you yet? Are you stroking yourself now, reading these words, my desire burning through the screen as your cock burns through the fabric of your pants?

God I hope so.

And then to taste your excitement on the head of your cock, my tongue dipping hungrily over your flesh. Perhaps you’ll free your bulging erection then? Run your hand slowly down your length as you think of me finally pressing my soft lips to you, my mouth slipping down slowly around you, my tongue beckoning you to the back of my throat. Look beyond my frame and watch my head languidly bob in the reflection before you in the hush of the suite, the dark shimmering of the city planted before us. Run your hands through my hair and feel the urgency you’ve stoked in me. Let the pace of your hand quicken as you think about how much you want this, how much I want to service you, how wet and lust-sodden you continue to make me time, and time, and time again.

Are you ready to come?

I know you are. I can feel it in the strength of your hand wrapped around my locks, your force pushing me down to the base of your shaft, my mouth taking your length with ease, moving over your taut pulsating skin repetitiously, back and forth, back and forth. Alive with wanton abandon, me fucking you in one of the best ways I know how, you taking what is rightfully yours. Use my mouth, rub yourself all over my flushed cheeks when the sensation becomes too much, fuck me at your pace. What does that look like? Please tell me. And when I decide it is time, watch my reflection draw the ache from you. Feel your body tense as the swell in your testicles rises to the pit of your stomach and through your fingertips. I’ll greedily beckon you to surrender with my voracious lips and tongue, your hand gliding over your stiff cock quickly as you pump, you shudder, you tremble into orgasm, filled with thoughts of coming into my waiting and whore-like mouth as I suck the orgasm right out of you. Scarlet. Open. Ready. Clench down hard as you give yourself to me, a heaving mess, a blur upon crumpled sheets. Lie there and feel the warmth of bliss kiss your toes, your eyelids, as I wash over you and savor every last drop of your come on my tongue. Satiated yet hungry, you fully spent with me on fire beside you.

Mouth music. I play you over and over in my head. You happen to be one of my favorite tunes.

Appetizer

Posted in Erotica, Sugasm on December 3, 2008 by naughtysecretary

It became a weekly affair, one cooking for the other, vying for the crown by a dazzling of the senses and a feast of fucking. He took my coat as I entered the living room, the aromas from the kitchen thick in the air, my nostrils filling with intoxicating scents. I could tell he had been working hard, and I smiled as I kissed him, tasting the familiar warmth of whiskey on his lips. His hands were immediately all over me, rubbing, grabbing, kneading my flesh as his tongue pushed into my mouth.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well hello there,” I giggled. I was always amazed and equally refreshed by his forwardness.

He looked at me and flashed me one of his broad grins. “Well, looking like that, what else did you expect?” He chuckled as his hands automatically slid under the sheer of my shirt, his palms rubbing over my stomach and against my sides. I immediately felt the well-known flush in my face, and I guessed my cheeks were shimmering that familiar rose hue, a shade he seemed to summon with ease. I instantly felt hot under his touch.

“I have some wine for you.” Grabbing my hand, he eagerly leads me into the kitchen. Turning to give me my glass, his brown eyes drink me in over the rim of crystal.

“You look good enough to eat,” he declares, his gaze following the lines of my shirt, the black of my bra barely visible, my cleavage peeking through at just the right angle. My grey skirt cut above the knee, soft and stretched comfortably over the small of my arse. I’m wearing a pair of my favorite black heels, picked specifically to even out the distance in our height. I look over at the shining metal pans on the stove, the gleam of silver bouncing across the black granite surfaces around the expanse of the kitchen. My curiosity is piqued as I watch the liquid bubbling, the steam snaking towards the ceiling.

“What do we have here, then?” I point to the multiple pots and sip my wine slowly, the deep berry of the ChÃ¥teaneuf du Pape exploding inside my mouth.

He hands me a platter adorned with an assortment of cheese, meats and olives, and insists I sample some of the Époisses de Bourgogne, a favorite of his. He pushes a piece into my mouth, the tang instantly hitting each taste bud, the soft of the cheese slowly melting and swirling into butter over my tongue. He points to the home-made stock bubbling slowly on the stove, the wild mushroom risotto he’s already started, the thick red cuts of meat seasoned with rock salt and cracked pepper lazing next to the grilled portobellos he’s already prepared. I can hear the hiss of garlic roasting in the oven. He suggests I go sit on the couch and get comfortable, and I do so without thinking twice. I take my wine and sit, easing back against the cool leather. Peering out through the huge panes of clear glass in front of me, the city shimmers in the dark. I lean back and let out a sigh.

“You know better than that,” I hear from the kitchen.

I open my eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard what I said, you know better than that.” I watch him stirring the risotto, ladling the stock gently into it, his focus never changing, his delectable arse wiggling with each stir. Not once has he taken his eyes from the task to look at me, not once has the tone in his voice changed.

“Take your shoes off.” There’s no part of him that’s asking, and I unbuckle the clasps quickly. I free my feet and tuck them underneath myself.

“Better.”

I watch him grate the pecorino into the risotto and throw fresh parsley into the mix. My stomach is growling at the thought of the beautiful tastes that await me. The beat of Lebanese Blonde pulses seductively in the background, and I’m taken into sensory bliss, so comfortable it feels as though I’m melting into the soft of the cushion behind me. I can feel the tension leaving my shoulders, the hassles of the week slowly seeping away. I’m somewhere else entirely until I hear the click of the stove turning off, I hear the movements of him freshening his drink in the kitchen. I open my eyes to him kneeling in front of me, his drink sitting safely on the side table under the warmth of the lamp. There’s no hesitation in him when he puts a palm on each knee and slowly pushes my legs open. There’s no hesitation in me when I allow him to do it and provide no resistance.

“And what do you have for me here? A gift no doubt.” He pushes the thin material of my thong to the side as he inspects me. With a grunt of satisfaction, he removes the undergarment completely. He stops to lick his fingers before he slides one, and then two, into my waiting cunt. My pelvis automatically pushes forward, my body buckling towards him in raw anticipation. I throw my head back and moan, parting my legs further. He licks at my clitoris furiously, the velvet of his tongue dragging deliberately over each moist fold. He suddenly stops, a devilish flash in his eye just noticeable above the pink creases of my flesh. In a swoop he reaches over and dips his fingers into the amber liquid of his drink. Seconds later, I am on fire.

I look down in shock to see the whiskey droplets slowly falling from the tips of his fingers onto my clitoris. Each time I feel the sting of the alcohol slither over my cunt, I buck, pushing my wetness further into his face. He moans as he suckles greedily. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, wondering how I was going to take you, when I’d have your taste all over my mouth and lips and tongue and face.” He pauses to look me squarely in the eyes, my heart feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. “There’s no way I could have even begun to imagine how exquisite you taste.” He reaches to the right and dips his fingers into his drink. The electric warmth of the whiskey hits my flesh once again, forcing me me to gasp and grab at his hair, his tongue licking over every part of me with fervor, pushing deep into my slippery heat. His left hand holds my thigh down, and every time I squirm, his fingers dig further into my flesh. He anoints my cunt a third and fourth time, and by the fifth round I am begging and pleading while I orgasm, obscenities flying out of my mouth, my flesh mashed against his face. He stands and I am left a quivering mess amongst the plush of the couch.

The hiss of his pants is audible as they snake down his muscular legs and land with a thud on the ground. Judging by the fire I see in his eyes, I surmise that all niceties have flown out the window, and there’s no time for charm, nor a need for politeness. At this point he’s adamant to take what he wants, whether it’s on the menu or not. The prospect both thrills and scares me, and I immediately feel a shudder of pleasure run down my spine. Baring witness to the deception of my body, he chuckles once again to himself.

“You’re a wicked little whore, aren’t you? You want this. Why else would you come over here dressed like that?” His cock strains and bobs with each word. I can feel my whole body aching for him, aching for him to fill me completely. As if to read my mind, he pounces on me. His hands are all over me, roughly pinching at my nipples, and then quickly finding the two halves of my blouse. With a thrust open, he sends a splash of black glass buttons ricocheting through the air. He lunges into me, his thick cock separating the wet heat between my legs, his hands roughly exposing my breasts, his mouth biting at each nipple, his cock pushing further into me. The heels of my feet dig into the sides of his buttocks as I arch into each one of his thrusts. It’s not long before he is growling and beating his fists against the thick of the leather. He reaches forward, and with a grunt, rips the delicate material of my brassiere in two. I squeal in shock, and at that moment he withdraws his cock from me, showering me in beads of his come, over my clothes, my breasts, my neck. He’s left heaving, steadying himself against the weight of the couch until he regains his composure. Touching my cheek, I feel wet, and involuntarily lick my fingers, the slight metallic taste of his come dancing on the tip of my tongue. He finally lifts his head to look at me, his gaze raking over my body, disheveled, and marked, and his, and I see the wash of satisfaction ripple over his face. He sighs and stands, grabs his drink and takes a triumphant swig. His cock happily pulses, still half-erect.

I sit up, dazed, and giggle.

“That was just the appetizer.” I watch him take another sip of his drink and pull his pants up. His hands rake through his hair.

“You can freshen up in my bedroom.” He reaches down to kiss my forehead, pausing for the briefest of seconds. “I saw a black cocktail dress today and thought of you; I couldn’t resist. It’s hanging on the door. I want to see you in it. Dinner will be ready in 20 minutes, and then it’s time for dessert.” He winks at me before pivoting for the kitchen to finish the meal.

Sass And The Sadist

Posted in Erotica, Sugasm with tags on October 15, 2008 by naughtysecretary

I think I’m finally sexed-out. Hard to believe, I know…

We can take a break if it would please you. Except for oil rubdowns and foot baths. You won’t be getting out of those so easy.

Oh poor me…

Please. I was even going to be so nice as to forgo binding your ankles with a belt while I rubbed your feet, but this plea for sympathy has led me to stop considering it.

You are MEAN!

And now you’re shouting at me? Maybe I need to put your collar back on your neck.

I’ll shout all I want. I’m full of sass today. You deserve it.

I love tearing your thong off, shoving it in your mouth, and feeling your soft bare pussy on my cock. Especially with your hands bound behind your back. Though a thong in your mouth doesn’t entirely stop the sass…Have I ever told you how good you would look blindfolded and gagged, tied to one of our kitchen chairs with your legs spread apart so I could torture you with the massager?

No, you have not told me such things.

I may not always take into account that the pillow I’m holding over your face might stop you from hearing me…I suppose that if you’re blindfolded, you wouldn’t see how good you actually look, either. I’ll have to remember to take a couple snapshots. Candlelight is very flattering…

Well, you have to catch me before you can tether me.

Your history of successful escapes from me is very, very short.

Well, that would be because I allow you to catch me, now wouldn’t it?

At least you’re consistent. I’ve noticed that you tend to surrender when you feel my shoulders pin you and the warm of my hard cock through my pants. Your struggle makes me want to clench even slower and tigher while sliding my tongue along the base of your neck ever so softly…

Mmmmm. Now you have my attention.

And I didn’t even need to wrap my hand around your soft red hair, clench and twist. Not to catch you this time. Unless, of course, we put you in the pleasure chair, with your legs spread and hands bound behind your back. If that’s the case, I’ll stand behind you with your hair clenched and twisting in my hand while I guide the massager along your silken pussy.

I don’t know which I like more. The ecstasy and sublime comfort of knowing that you’re 100% mine and entirely open to everything I could inflict upon you…Or feeling your struggle slowly subside…

The Pleasure Of Torment

Posted in Erotica, Sugasm with tags on September 10, 2008 by naughtysecretary

I look at Rose languidly stretched out on my couch, my stare wandering up her booted calves to the inside of her milky thighs. I settle my gaze on her incredibly short skirt and smile. She’s a strikingly beautiful woman; confident, incredibly smart, sweet, and quirky. Not to mention she’s physically gorgeous. Her hair spills down her face in waves, her eyes bright and clear, her cheekbones high. She reminds me of a cat in so many ways. She catches my stare and giggles.

“And what are you lookin’ at, darlin’?” I find her lingering Texan accent adorable.

“I think you know what I’m looking at.” I smile broadly and wink at her. She giggles again.

“I’ve been thinking. Do you want to be wicked with me and play a little game? I’d like your help with something…or rather, someone…”

She immediately perks up. “Oh you know I can’t resist an offer like that! What do you have in mind?” Mischief plays on her lips. In many ways, she’s exactly like me. Maybe I am a narcissist after all, I think to myself.

I outline my plan, and her compliance is shown through a series of nods. I grab my laptop and quickly compose the email, press send, and snap the computer shut.

“What do you say we grab some dinner and a glass of wine? Then we’ll come back here and see if he wants to play. Deal?”

“Deal! But dinner is my treat this time.” She looks at me with those big green eyes, her face showing a flicker of stubbornness.

“Deal.”

We leave to hunt down some food, and after a nice meal at one of the local restaurants, we return. I grab my laptop and seat myself next to her on the couch.

“Let’s see if he took the bait, shall we?” I open Messenger, and sure enough, he’s online. I can’t help but smile. I turn to her and whisper “Let the games begin!” I message him and place the laptop on the coffee table, making sure Rose is out of sight. I switch on my new webcam, and within minutes, his friendly grin is mirroring mine.

“Long time no see, stranger. I have a surprise for you. I’d like you to meet someone.” Rose leans into view and waves at the camera. His expression changes immediately.

He is catching on, or so he thinks, I note to myself.

“I want you to just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. No words, just watch.” He nods in affirmation.

I turn towards Rose. The expression on her face tells me she’s enjoying this as much as I am. I lean in and kiss her softly on her lips, slowly parting hers with my own. My hands wander through her soft hair onto the nape of her neck, my fingers brush at the sides of her cheek. I plant a string of kiss along her jawline and nibble at her earlobe. She sighs and I simultaneously feel a pang of desire surge into my belly. I look back at my computer screen and his face echoes complete disbelief.

Just you wait warns the voice in my head.

I continue to kiss her as my hands move slowly over her breasts. I can feel her nipples instantly harden under my touch. Her hands move up my thighs, her warm fingers and palms slowly rubbing over my skin. I feel the slow ache of desire take over my body, and I can feel it in hers, too. The invisible heat between us only draws us closer, our movements picking up speed in unspoken desperation. I lift her tank top over her head, her proud nipples begging for attention. I slip my own shirt over my head and move closer to her, the warmth of her body pressed to mine, breast to breast. We kiss passionately as we wrap ourselves in each other.

I look over to the screen, and he has already unbuttoned his jeans. His beautiful cock stands in clear view, his hand slowly rubbing over the shaft, the other hand cupping his testicles. I can hear him gasping at the sight of us, gasping at his own pleasure. This only inflames me further. I turn back to her, and my right hand travels under her skirt. She moans as I slip a finger slowly into her. I look back to the screen.

“You would not believe how wet she is.” I withdraw my finger and slowly suck on it.

“And my God, she tastes soooo good.” I kiss her again. I ask her to stand and she complies. Her skirt falls to the ground with a tug, as does her damp thong. She is left wearing nothing except her boots.

“I think I want them left on.” She nods. I instruct her to sit on the couch facing the computer. She does so and is placed in center view of the screen. All the while he keeps stroking his cock, the occasional grunt of approval escaping him, his own pace picking up. I kneel at her feet, and with a palm on each knee I slowly part her legs to show him her bare, wet cunt. I slip my finger into her and back into my mouth to sample her again. She throws her head back, each one of her hands cupping a breast as she pinches lightly at her nipples.

I look at the screen. “You’d like to see more, I know you would. I bet right now you want to see me plunge my tongue into that hot, wet cunt, don’t you? You’d love to watch me pleasure her, to watch me fuck her my way…”

“Yes! YES! Fuck yes! Please…I want to see you taste her.” His voice is strained, his cock pulsing in delicious pain. I can tell he’s not far from his own orgasm.

“You do? You want to see that?” I look him directly in the eye.

“Yes, you know I do. Please, please don’t make me beg…”

That last sentence is all I need to hear. It’s a confirmation of his torment, and I know it’s time.

“Well, let me tell you something. I will do all of that, all of that and more. How could I not? She’s absolutely breathtaking. But listen closely to me, because you’ll only be warned once. I don’t like being ignored, and you know that. Maybe next time when I call, or leave you a message, you’ll have the decency to return the gesture.”

The snap of the closing laptop punctuates the air, and startled, Rose sits up. When I had informed her earlier of the plan, I had deliberately left this part out, so it takes a few seconds for her to understand what has taken place. She looks at me, looks at the shut laptop, and back to me again. She blinks, throws her head back and laughs loudly.

“That was incredibly mean of you!” She’s still submerged in a fit of laughter as she rolls around on the couch.

“Oh, I know, that was the whole point.” I start to laugh along with her.

“What a shame! I was having such a good time!” Looking at her, it is easy to see the lingering desire still plastered all over her face. She’s biting at her bottom lip, her left brow is raised, and her eyes simply sparkle.

“Oh, I didn’t say anything about that part halting, silly girl.” I scan over her lithe frame one more time, drinking her in, before I part her legs again and push my tongue slowly into her sweet liquid warmth.

The Wrath Of Eve

Posted in Erotica, Sugasm with tags , on June 23, 2008 by naughtysecretary

I remember the day of his interview well. He sat calmly opposite me, long legs extended, his hands clasped in his lap. He exuded a cool arrogance that I was immediately attracted to. He was well dressed, quite handsome. When I started to ask him questions, his answers were short and to the point, his eyes fixed on my face. Oh those eyes. They sparkled with such cheekiness, such promise; they smiled along with his mouth. I was curious why he had sought me out.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

I had glanced at his hands. No ring. That was 3 months ago, and until dinner recently, I had fully believed him.

Enzo’s had become a regular Friday habit for me some time ago. I had arrived 5 minutes late, and on the way I had received a text from Adrienne telling me that she was also behind schedule. I was seated promptly and ordered a cocktail. The restaurant bustled with warmth and noise, people chatting and laughing, the aromas from the kitchen spilling into the room and instantly making my mouth water. I scanned the crowd, sipping my drink. The moment my eyes fell on him my body seized, a wave of panic spreading through every part of me. Fuck. My gaze lingered for confirmation; he was seated at a table with a group of people, his back to me, his arm wrapped around a woman. I rarely ran into clients on my down time, and when I had in the past, it never went well. I raised my menu as a shield and cussed at the appetizers. Just then Adrienne arrived, her smile quickly vanishing, her pretty face echoing the worry plastered on my own.

“What’s wrong?”

“Over there.” I nodded quietly towards them. “The blue shirt. A client.”

She discreetly peeked to her right, just long enough to see. “Closest to us? The wife is pretty…”

I peer over the top of my menu, and she’s right; a gold band glistens on his left hand, his arm resting on the redhead’s shoulder while they chat with their company. I’m stunned into silence, and I quickly decide it’s time to find another restaurant. I leave money on the table for my drink, and quietly slip out the back entrance unnoticed with Adrienne in tow.

I remember feeling a mixture of emotions when I returned home that night, none of them being the standard fare. I felt betrayed, and rightly so, but I felt it on a more personal level. The relationships I had with my clients were based on trust, and how could I trust him if he had lied from the beginning? Deep in the pit of my stomach, jealousy raged on. It was the first time I had ever felt anything remotely like that towards someone I had a working relationship with. Throughout the months, our meetings had become more personal, our bond stronger. I enjoyed his company, and for the first time in a very long time, I honestly looked forward to our sessions. Now that all the cards were on the table, and everything I knew had vanished, I was livid. I had to decide on how to handle the situation, and I had already kept him waiting 20 minutes. I locked the door to my office and made my way downstairs, my heels clicking on the hard cement, the noise bouncing down the hall. My fingertips felt on fire, my corset feeling too tight. I paused to steady myself, and breathing in, I opened the dungeon door.

The sight before me was always enough to calm jangled nerves and to put my mind and body at ease. The expanse of the room was dimly lit, plush carpet covering the floor. The walls were adorned with warm flames flickering atop sconces, the crystals droplets sparkling in the half light. From the mahogany beams hung an assortment of metal hooks, chains and pulleys, ropes hanging from the ceiling in various places. To my left lay an assortment of benches, each varying in size and width. To my right the walls were covered with floggers, whips, different sized canes and paddles. I smiled as my gaze lingered on the center of the room.

There he sat on a tall stool, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers and a blindfold. His hands were bound in his lap. I noted that Natasha had followed my every instruction, even down to using a stool instead of a high backed chair, rope instead of a sash. I didn’t want him comfortable, I wanted him rigid and on edge, and the sight of him helpless and struggling to gain composure only encouraged the ruthless streak in me. I crossed the room and grabbed a riding crop. I stood before him, drinking in the sight of his thick thighs, his hairy chest, the bulge of his erection through his shorts. I could feel my thong already wet, my pussy buzzed for attention. It took every part of me to not drop to my knees and take his hard cock into my mouth right there and then.

That is not how the game will be played this time.

“Hello, Mistress Eve.”

I note he’s breathing evenly, calmly, his chest expanding and contracting slowly. All of that is about to change. The keeper of the crop comes down hard on his left thigh, and he involuntarily jumps.

“I’m sorry, did I ask you to speak to me?”

My anger simmers underneath the surface. With my voice stern, my sentence is punctuated with a matching swat on his right thigh. This time it’s harder, and he recoils with the sting.

“No, I’m sorry Mistress Eve.” His face is painted with confusion. Good, I think to myself.

“Stand up,” I bark at him, and he stands immediately. With a slight tug, his shorts slip to the floor, his erection bobbing into clear view. He has a deliciously thick and rigid cock, and for a second I have trouble taking my eyes off it. Thank God for the blindfold. With a command, he sits straight back down on the stool, his balls resting on the edge. I raise the crop and run the keeper over his testicles lightly as I speak.

“Something tells me you haven’t been completely honest with me, Eric.”

I run the leather flap over his thighs and up his arms, back over his shoulders, and down to his legs again as I circle him. I watch him eagerly, his uneasiness has started to show. He shifts his weight on the stool uncomfortably. My face level with his, he licks his lips with panic. I push the leather of the keeper up under his jaw line and hold it shut. I slip the blindfold off his eyes. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, and when he does, his eyes rake over my body. His gaze falls from my face down to my cleavage and over the tightness of my black corset, dropping to the silk that covers my thighs. He smiles and says nothing, his mouth still pursed shut at my hand, my will.

“So tell me,” I whisper and smile, “How is your wife? She has pretty red hair, just like mine.”

His eyes become large, and for a second I swear he’s going to speak. I say nothing as I drop the crop and pick up his shorts. I shove them in his mouth, and I can feel the rage starting to burn in my belly, desire spiking my every move. I stand behind his chair, and even with him sitting down, he still equals my height. I thrust my hip forward, pushing the stool off balance, sending him falling onto his bound hands and knees. I walk over to the wall and grab my fiberglass cane.

“You’ve disappointed me, and well, that won’t do Eric.”

The first strike hits his flesh with a thud, a cry escaping into the material he holds in his mouth. Picking up rhythm, I shower his back, buttocks and backs of his thighs with strike after strike, his skin immediately raising in a cross-hatch of welts. Every time I hear his pain muffled, I come down harder, my strike more deliberate, my appetite growing with each blow. When his back is covered in red welts, I rest my right foot on his side, the heel digging into his rib.

“See what happens when you upset me? Our sessions aren’t nearly as fun, for you anyway…”

I push at his side with my foot, knocking him onto his back. I remove the material from his mouth, slip my thong to the floor, sit and straddle him. His breathing hard, alarm shines brightly in his eyes.

“So, you’re a taken man? I think it’s about time for me to take what I want, what I deserve. No more games, no more lying.”

I look down to his engorged cock. It stands alone, begs to be used. I want to do all sorts of things to this man, and right now, I think I will. I am full of ache for him, and any professionalism I had remaining has slipped away. I want him deep inside me, coming into me, giving me his all. I’ve never had the honor of fucking this man, and the thought of the coupling sends an electrical current of pleasure surging through me. Even though he has no say in the matter, his body is telling me all I need to know. I push the head of his cock past my clitoris and into the warmth of my cunt, my muscles tightening as I slip down the length of his shaft. I look into his eyes and we both moan in unison. His length feels delectable, better than I could have imagined, and I start rocking back and forth, my fingers rubbing at my pussy.

Impaled on his prick, I untie him. I want all of him, now. The moment his hands find freedom, they are on me. He reaches to the base of my neck and tangles his digits in my hair. He pulls me down to kiss him, and I strain against it. The second time he’s rough, and he gets what he wants, his lips and hands on my face, his warm tongue tasting mine. He slips one hand down my back and unzips me free from my corset, my naked breasts bouncing to view, pressing against the soft of his chest hair. My hands scratch at his back, my fingertips drag on the skin of his shoulders. I nip roughly at his neck, and he pinches each of my nipples between thumb and index finger. His hands push my hips down until he is fully embedded in the heat of my cunt, his cock kissing my cervix. I can’t help but moan and surrender, and with his hands holding mine behind my back, I ride him to my first shuddering climax. As soon as he hears my moans of pleasure, his grip tightens down on me. He growls himself, his cock exploding into me, his mouth kissing at my shoulders and licking at my breasts.

Moments pass, and I regain composure from my heady orgasm. I stand and sit myself on the stool.

“There’s only one woman who can do that to me, Mistress Eve, and that happens to be you.”

He looks at me in earnest. His whisper has me smiling, his boyish charm showcased all over his face with a grin. Right now I find him nothing short of adorable. How could this man not be taken? I shake my head and smile as I walk over to the shelf and pick up a collar.

“Good, then I suspect you wont have an issue wearing this then. We’re not nearly done…”

I pick up a length of chain and make my way to him.