19 January, 2009

A bit of hemp . . .

A. Secret posted 'Give and Take' 30 December 2008. Another delight from her pen. If you have not taken the time read it, please do so now. I will not be offended if you have to adjust your clothing or step out for a moment after reading it.

The first comment I made to her post was:

"It is a subtle pleasure possessing not only the body of a beautiful, strong-willed woman, but also her mind and soul. There are quiet ways of making that she has no choice. Telling the waiter, 'And the lady would have . . .' And then feeding her the appetizer that had been ordered. Invading her space more than Mulder did Scully's while out on the town.

It sounds like an all-consuming affair. Moments stolen from the mundane world. Cock buried deep into female flesh. Tongue licking hidden folds. Whimpers and cries in the night. Screams of passion in the middle of the afternoon. What stories could be read in the twisted damp sheets.

I would enjoy watching you with another woman. Pleasuring each other with lips, tongue, and fist. Knowing that when you laid back thinking that you might take a breather, I would be spreading your legs for my rampant cock.

The one thing that I do not know if I could do. Sooner or later I would long to take away all control from you. A bit of hemp, or polished leather and brass. The choices are endless.

I would have to balance the pleasure of seeing you helpless, tied to the bed, with the fear of not having you by my side."

After a comment by her on my comment, I posted a second comment:

"I look at you across the rehearsal dinner table. You are looking beautiful tonight. Your eyes were bright and twinkling, a smile on your lips. An attractive bride's maid dress that fits your figure perfectly.

I'm excited too. I love being with you. The long walks in the forest. Skinny dipping. Late night talks at the Driftwood Coffee Shop. Your whimpers as I bury my cock deep within your body. I love watching your face as you climax. I am going to risk your laugh, your tight body, your hand in mine, all that by taking you someplace that I don't know if you are willing to go.

I look into your eyes and jerk my head towards the door as I get out of the chair. You smile, nod, and you follow my lead. We ran into the bride and groom on the way to the door. They are a lovely couple that we have known for years. I shake his hand while you gave her a not quite chaste kiss. I'm not surprised. Your torrid love affair with the bride had been the talk of the town for months, and I know that you two are still thick as thieves. Me, I’d been in too many bar fights with the groom. Sometimes I was by his side, sometimes I was the one trying to beat the shit out of the SOB.

I am a little envious when the ring bearer, a young lad of maybe 4 years of age who stopped us by grabbing your skirt. You stop and bend down to talk with him, giving him the attention that I crave. He did not know where his mommy was. You comfort him and take his hand. We walk him back to his mother. You showed tenderness helping some kid that you do not know. Some would say, out of character, but I know better. You are a strong woman, both in body and will. AND you are quite self assured. A strong, self-assured woman is a sexy woman. However, you understand that being tender, being kind, from a position of strength does not mark you as being weak. There is a lioness in there.

When we get to our hotel room, your eyes go wide looking down at the leather cuffs and ropes lying dark against the white chenille bedspread. You glance up at me for a moment, then look back at the bed, a sheen of nervous sweat on your forehead, your bosom.

I go behind you, and quickly unzip your dress and push it down off your shoulders. It catches for a moment on your arms. You glance down at the dress, unaware of my act, then lower your arms and let it fall, pooling at your feet. I pull you into my arms for a hard kiss, a hand in your tresses holding your head still as I rape your mouth with my tongue, nibble under your ear. When I release you, you lick your lips, a nervous habit you have. But the trust is in your eyes again. The fear is still be there, the discomfort about being vulnerable.

I half drag, half lead you to the bed and roughly push you down on it. It is rather a struggle getting the cuffs wrapped around your wrists and ankles. And the squirming did not stop as the ropes went taut, stretching you, making you helpless. My eyes devour you, your trim body half covered by the basque you had worn that day, the white hose still covering your legs. Your skin is shiny from sweat, your breathing shallow and quick from a bit of fear. I cup a breast, slipped my finger between your folds. The nips were little hard nubbins, your were already wet.

I lift your head up and put a blindfold over your eyes.

As you struggle and squirm, I strip. You freeze for a moment when I claim a nipple with my lips. When I suck on your clit and invade your secrets with two fingers, your hips arching up driving my fingers that much deeper into you.

I pull my fingers out and present them for you to lick and clean. The groom slowly pushes open the closet door and steps out. To say ‘cock rampant’ would be an understatement.

I backed up a step or two as he climbed up onto the bed. A moment later, his latex covered cock is buried hilt deep into your cunt. Your answering gasp is music to my ears. The ancient rhythm of thrust and arch, whimper and slap of wet skin against wet skin was heard in that room.

A bit later, my own rampant cock by your soft lips, you first gave it a lick, and start to suck on it when you froze, another cock ramming deep into your cunt. The realization that two cocks were present, that two men were pleasuring themselves with your body, hit. You opened your mouth wide and sucked my dick deep into your mouth.

Too few moments later, a male shout of pleasure , and he collapses on top of you, his cock sliding out of you.

A short cuddle and the groom got up off of the bed and headed for the bathroom. Five minutes, and he was dressed and heading out the door.

After the groom left, I gave it a couple of moments before taking off the blind fold. You blinked a couple of times before looking up at me. What were you going to say?"

There is an interesting problem writing a piece like this. How far to go? The woman in this story is not a character created by me. So have to be careful what I do to and with the character. I want to push things, but I don't want to push things too far. Go to a place where the creater of the character is uncomfortable, you might not be able to play with that character any more.

So I review what she included in her post, share her with another guy, share her with a woman, blindfold. In one of the comments, she states that bondage makes her 'squirmy even thinking about it'. Gives me some ideas. Sounds like it is time to order some rope.

A dialog New Year's Eve between ez cheeze and her gives me a final point, gentleness. A strong person being gentle is not showing weakness. They are showing that they are strong enough to be gentle.

18 January, 2009

The Photographer's Eye

The first story follows on 'A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words....' posted on PocketSecrets on 9 December 2008. A repost by A. Secret where she 'speaks' to a photographer who watches in on a tryst and the photographer's reaction to the event. Be sure to read her posting. Her blog is listed as one of the ones I visit.

A photographer is by nature a voyeur, you are there to record an event, not participate in or react to it. So even if the event is erotic, you think exposure and framing, not your own arousal. That comes later when you have processed the film and are looking at the contact sheets of the negatives or project the slides on the wall.

I read the story, enjoyed it, and posted a comment about making the woman 'Mine'. When A. Secret asked a leading question, I decided to let out the words that had been bouncing around the back of my head. And now, here it is.

"I would capture on film each new part of your body that would be exposed as you stripped for him. And unwittingly, for me.

Yes, I would record the look on your face as you came from his mouth, but I would also record the look of sexy self confidence on your face that would be evident when you looked down at him after you ran your fingers through your loose heavy hair.

I would want to record the look on your face the first time his cock penetrated your cunt, possessed your ass.

I would wish that I'd brought a movie camera, wondering what images I would miss as I changed rolls of film. 36 images is all that you can get on a 35mm roll of Tri-X Pan.

After he came, I would go to the darkroom with the film and process it. And make many prints.

Since I knew how to find you when you went to visit your lover, I could find you again. And this time, I would have that movie camera with me. So I could record the look on your face, and the sound of your voice, when I told you of the images of lust that I had of you."

A. Secret's response to my words was positive, and triggered thoughts was to what happened next. But that is another posting for another time.


17 January, 2009

Inital Posting

Welcome to Single One's Den. A place to drop in, sit a spell, and maybe read some erotic fiction.

It is very much an experiment. While I have lurked and commented in others blogs, this is the first time that I have attempted to create a blog of my own.

In a very real way, this blog can be blamed on A. Secret, proprietress of Pocket Secrets. She does a great job of writing erotic little snippets that are a hot little ball of sweaty emotion. I commented on one of her posts, and she urged me to come out and play. So I have.