I received my first fanart! The lovely Ms. Sparrow illustrated one of the first bits of writing I ever posted to this tumblr…you can read it here. Thank you, darling!
I received my first fanart! The lovely Ms. Sparrow illustrated one of the first bits of writing I ever posted to this tumblr…you can read it here. Thank you, darling!
Yes, I have fallen abysmally behind. I also completely forgot about another major deadline I have coming up. But never you fear…I will write 30 kinks. Hopefully they will be within the 30 days.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re sorry. That’s just great, I’m so happy that you’re sorry.” He’s vicious when he’s angry and I do my best not to flinch. It only makes him angrier. “You fucked up, kid. There’s no sweet-talking your way out of this. An apology is not going to cut it.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I say. It comes out like a whine, an excuse, and I know before the last words leave my lips that I’ve only upset him more. The thought makes my stomach heat up.
I’m right, of course, and he slams his hands against the table, hard enough to make the fruit bowl rattle and me jump. “I don’t want you to say anything, you fucking idiot. I don’t want to hear it. I want you to make it clear to me that you understand what you fucked up and that it’s not going to happen again.”
“I will. I mean, it won’t.” I swallow hard and push my chair back from the table. Carefully, I get onto my knees, looking up at him. His expression never changes, stormy and so pissed, sneering a little bit down at me. I swallow again, holding in a moan, and lean forward to kiss his hipbone, bared where his jeans ride low and his t-shirt has inched up. “Let me make it up to you, please.”
“Well,” he says, undoing his belt with a heavy click, “it’s a start.”
His cock is familiar on my tongue, but I try not to fall in old patterns. He deserves better than half-assed oral on autopilot; this is my apology, and I need him to know that I mean it. I take him in as deeply as I can, rubbing his thighs, squeezing his balls gently, teasing back behind them with a stray finger. I pull out every trick I have, worshipping him, doing my best to put all my love into my lips, sealed tight around his shaft. When I feel his thighs shaking, I pull back, jacking him quickly until I close my eyes and he comes, splattering my face. I am marked, and I am sorry.
He pants above me for only a minute before he’s dropping to his own knees, pushing me back against the tile floor and shoving my dress up enough to get his head underneath. I feel his tongue against me through my panties, and even that little touch after the intensity of his scolding sends an electric shock up my spine.
There’s no break, not until I’m panting on the floor with my panties halfway to my ankles, fuzzy from the pleasure. “Next time,” I murmur towards the ceiling, because I know he can hear me. “Next time I’ll remember to set the DVR. Promise.”
“Who gives a shit, baby,” he says into my chest, “we’ll watch it online later.”
thirty days, thirty kinks; prompted by sparrow
Once he was appropriately lathered, she set the brush back in the cup and reached past him to set it on the counter top. She then produced her blade. She had a rare gift with a straight razor, but bare steel that close to his throat always made his heart beat faster. It also made his cock harder, nudging up against her thigh.
Usually she would laugh, wriggle a little and tease, but shaving was a serious ritual and she gave no indication she could feel his growing excitement. She cupped her free hand under his chin, guiding him this way and that, moving him into the appropriate position, so she could obtain the right angle to cut. The scrape of the blade across his skin was sure and even. A proper shave was done in as few strokes as possible, and she was a master.
He was so hard under her, and he knew that his dick had to be drilling into her thigh by now, but her hand never wavered. He was thankful for that, as much as the tease of a sharp cool blade along the line of his jaw and down his neck turned him on, he preferred the danger to be a vague sexual thrill. Bleeding out on the bathroom floor would be rather less erotic.
When the time was right, she climbed off his lap to direct him to the sink, splashing his face with cold water to constrict any cuts and rinse him clean. Aftershave was patted onto his cheeks with no real tenderness, and the astringent sting did nothing to lessen his erection.
She leaned in to take advantage of her handiwork, planting a gentle kiss on his smooth cheek. Only then did she reach down to take a hold of his cock.
“You’re next.”
thirty days, thirty kinks. today is double fill day! double the kink, double the fun! (doublemint gum!)
I know what she bought. Or, I suspect, and even the suspicion is enough to have me wet with anticipation. I shift a little on my knees, feeling how slick I am between my thighs and gasping a little bit.
“Getting started without me?”
Caught. I bite my lip and keep my eyes trained on the carpet. “No, ma’am.”
“Sounded like it.” I hear her footfalls, soft and careful as a cat’s, and in a moment she’s behind me. She runs her hand through my hair, stroking over my scalp, and a shiver runs up my spine. “Maybe you don’t deserve a present.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice steady, when she’s ever-so-lightly tracing her fingernails over my scalp. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from whimpering and swallow down the sound instead. “I’ll be good.”
Her hand stills briefly, then she tugs on my hair. “I know you will. You’re a good girl.”
Just the words send a wash of warmth through me, from my heart down to the wet heat of my cunt. My body is inflamed for her, like it always is, and she doesn’t even have to do anything. She does (god, she does), but her existence, her hand resting heavily on top of my head is all that I need.
Luckily for me, she is offering me more than that tonight. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I have something for you.”
I nod, and I can feel her drop to a knee behind me, feel the brush of her dress against my naked skin. It’s delicious, but that sensation is nothing compared to what comes next.
Leather, soft and smooth as butter, wrapping slowly around my throat until I hear the soft click of a clasp and feel cool metal against the nape of my neck. My breath catches, and I have to look up, straining to feel the sweet pressure of the collar around my neck. I tilt my head back until it squeezes, but I can see her face. Upside down, but grinning. I am so proud to be all hers.
thirty days, thirty kinks; prompted by mooseriffic
The morning of her flight, she has him fuck her, lazy in bed before either of them have a chance to shower. It’s a goodbye, but it also leaves him soft and malleable for her. He rolls over onto his back afterwards, eyes still half-closed against the morning sun, and she goes the opposite direction, onto her belly to reach for the device she set out on the nightstand with her cellphone and toothbrush—everything she couldn’t forget before she left.
She kisses his belly, and he hums, squirming a little under her. He hisses out a little breath when she takes his cock in hand, still sensitive, but doesn’t otherwise move. They’re both practiced at this now, and he spreads his thighs obediently, giving her room to maneuver freely. He’s still slick from fucking, so she can right to work. She gets the ring into place, snug around his balls, and carefully fits his dick inside the cage. She slides the brass padlock through the top, locking the cage and ring together. Everything fits neatly together, and she’s done before her phone starts buzzing, reminding her that the cab will be here to take her to the airport in an hour.
“I gotta jump in the shower, baby.” She crawls up his body to kiss him softly. He kisses her back lazily, barely awake. His eyes don’t open when she pulls away, but he smiles. “You’ll be good when I’m away, won’t you?”
“Mm, yes ma’am,” he hums a little and licks his lips, but he’s already rolling over onto his side to get another fifteen minutes of sleep while she’s getting ready.
She only wears two pieces of jewelry in the shower: her wedding ring and a long platinum chain with a brass key dangling from it.
thirty days, thirty kinks
was away from the computer yesterday, so look out for another one tonight.
that I am greedily eager for idea of kinks to write about for this little self-imposed challenge. thirty kinks is a lot of kinks! if you have one you’d especially like to see, drop it in my askbox.
He’s tense until she enters, wrapped in pale grey robe that she shrugs out of once the bathroom door is closed. It pools on the floor at her feet, leaving her deliciously naked. But he doesn’t look at her body, the soft curves he’s dying to touch. He keeps his eyes cast down, so all he can see is her feet with her toenails painted purple.
She walks closer to him and rests her hand on his shoulder when she steps into the tub. The water rises dangerously high when she sinks under it, but never too high. It doesn’t spill over the side, and he can let out a breath through his nose. She hums, and he feels the warmth move through his entire body. He has done well. His mistress is pleased with him. Later, she might take him in a well manicured hand, soft and sweet-smelling after her bath, stroke him until he’s a mess below her. He’s always a mess by the end, whimpering and desperate, and she always takes care him. She holds him when he falls apart and gathers him back up again. And all he ever has to do is be good.
thirty days, thirty kinks
It’s the fullness. When they’re at the peak, that last second when she can feel the bump of knuckles against her, the place where her lover has tucked her thumb in deep, making a compact fist that can sink right inside her. Even after all that prep, as open as she is, it’s an effort to take it, but she loves it. She’s so proud when it’s in, savoring the reminder of her power. Her cunt can swallow this hand, all the way to the wrist, and having it inside her is a pressure that radiates throughout her body, setting her aflame.
It’s the trust. As powerful as she feels when it’s happening, the build-up is long and intense, and she’s so open. Laid completely bare, naked and delicate and wanting. She believes that her lover will hold her, pet her, coax her and stroke her and keep her safe until they finally reach the pinnacle.
thirty days, thirty kinks. prompted by mooseriffic
He didn’t intend to develop an attraction. It felt stupid to call it a crush, though he’s definitely noticed the similarities between his feelings and those of a thirteen year old. Chiefly, the amount of time he spends jacking off.
Luke knows that fantasizing about some guy he doesn’t even know, who he watches live through the window, is creepy. But Mr. DCHB has taken up yoga. He’s not very good at it, but he bends and stretches and Luke has to leave his laptop on the couch and go to the bedroom, jerking his cock with fast, desperate strokes. Maybe it’s because it’s forbidden, or maybe it’s hipbones, but something about Mr. DCHB gets Luke’s motor running like nothing else.
Which makes it awkward when he nearly walks right into him coming around the corner to check his mail. Mr. DCHB drops his own mail and Luke swears, kneeling to pick them up. He spots the address. Mark.
“Sorry, shit.” He grabs the letters and looks up. He’s on his knees in front of Mr. DCHB, Mark, and he looks even better from this angle. Luke feels a hot rush to his groin and he flushes a little, hurrying to stand. “Here.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” Mark takes his mail, but he’s still looking at Luke, with a tiny smile quirked at the edges of his lips. “Hey, I know you. Mr. Can’t Afford Curtains. We’re, uh, across-the-way neighbors.”
“Mister…oh. Oh, fuck.” Luke really flushes then. The jig is fucking up, but Mark grins.
“Mmm, yeah. You’re so interested, you want to come up and…check out the apartment? In person?”
Luke was right about the carpeting. It’s nubby and beige, and hopefully cleaner than his, because he only gets three steps into the place before he’s dropping to his knees, pulling Mark in by his hips to mouth at him through those damn sweatpants. Mark grunts, rests his hand on Luke’s shoulder, perfect gentleman. Luke nuzzles in, savoring it as Mark gets harder under his touch, before reaching up to tug his sweatpants and boxers down in one swoop.
His dick is thick, with an even fatter head, and Luke’s is so hungry for it, he takes him in, as far as he can. He runs his tongue over the underside of Mark’s cock, sucking hard and wrapping his hand around the base to steady him.
“God, yeah. You wanted to do that, all those times you were watching me?” Luke moans around Mark’s cock, and Mark laughs, a low raspy chuckle. “Yeah, you did. And you never knew I was watching back. You didn’t think I actually just randomly decided to start doing yoga, did you?”
Luke grumbles a little, but he doesn’t want to pull off at all, going down until his lips meet his hand, until everything is Mark and the thick musky scent of him. It’s more delicious than any of his fantasies, and he thinks he sees a new apartment in their future. One with very thick curtains.
thirty days, thirty kinks; prompted by sparrow