If my husband knew the way I thought about Carl, he would have freaked. If he only knew that I tended garden in my high-cut jean shorts and tight white tank top in the hopes that Carl would be outside mowing the lawn, washing his car, or even just getting the mail. If he only knew that I bent over, intentionally pushing my ass into the air, and spreading my legs, hoping that the tiniest hint of my thick lips could be seen pushing against the rough fabric. My body begged for Carl to look over and think about sucking on me.
They were miles away from each other, but a heat linked them as they spoke. She was reclining in her bed, ready to drift to sleep. Alone in his room, he was kneeling beside his own bed. She enjoyed the sweetness of it, knowing he was that way for her, and the similarity to the pose to that for nighttime prayers did not escape her.
He pulled her down with hands on her upper thighs, and there was pure joyful malice in her eyes as she become the bull rider to his bull. His hands were all over her beautiful body and her sounds of ravaged pleasure filled my ears, hitting me like a slap, again and again.
It was just an hour from when I got her message to when I arrived. Just an hour. Now, looking back, it seems almost impossible that there was just an hour of intermission between my old life to my new reality.
By Mel MacFarlane:
I knelt on the floor giggling and listened intently to the soft rustle of paper as he moved swiftly around the room. His normally heavy footsteps surprisingly light as he navigated his way around me, hoping that I wouldn’t hear. Over my eyes the blindfold pressed firmly against my skin, allowing only a small chink of light to highlight his large black boots.
‘He came back with a scarf which was taken from a snowman in the garden and some large sprigs of holly. Lee wrapped the scarf around my head and took some miniature pegs from the Christmas card holder around the fire. He fastened two pegs to my nipples and told me to bend over and hold my ankles.‘
The officer shifted in his seat and moved closer into the table. Does he have an erection? wondered Kerry, stifling a giggle. The officer silenced her with a glare and gestured for her to continue.
By Mel MacFarlane:
It was the last time I saw him alive. A chilly but bright October morning with no clouds and a biting wind that tore through my dress and straight into my bones. I shivered painfully as I pulled my thin shawl further over my shabby dress, smiling brightly through the chattering of my teeth.
We all know about ropes and floggers and cuffs – they feature not just in porn but in most erotica, in sex tips and magazines and That Book. But while it might be easy to ask your partner if you can handcuff them because you've seen this one tip in Cosmo, it could be a hell of a lot harder to explain the thrill of an actual power exchange. Of you giving yourself over to them, or them to you, to be led and moulded and treated and punished and all the things I personally love about being at the collar end of that strip of leather.
You might not like that kind of thing, of course. But judging by how even a couple of my vanilla friends were keen to put it on, and be playfully led from sofa to garden, back to the sofa and straight onto my lap, it's certainly intriguing to many. And not just in a giggly 'oh we've had too much wine and sex toys are funny' way, in an 'ooh, I think I could get to like this but I'm not sure I'd admit it when sober' way.
By Go Deeper Press:
In Dirty Little Numbers, readers can expect the most erotic Brazilian waxing they’ve ever seen, a seduction by a lesbian Lolita, and a sex worker with a surprise up her skirt, who expects to be paid with "150 red roses."