This time around, we're doing something different. Something kinky. Something secret. Instead of posting the stories (which were written on a "secret" theme) with the authors' names — the pieces are posted anonymously. Vote for your favorite. Names will be revealed after the poll ends. The poll will run until Sunday, July 4th, at midnight.
Note to the Authors: you can say you have a story up — but please don't publicly post which one is yours! Winner will receive this awesome pendant courtesy of the fabulous Robbie Jenkins!
Entry #1: Guess
I might have been blindfolded and cuffed to the bed, but I noticed straight away the cock sliding inside me wasn’t my husband’s. It was wider for one, longer too. Hands gripped my hips hard enough I knew I’d have bruises the next day.
What the hell was happening? Why hadn’t Tom warned me? Oh, I knew he’d planned something, but this went beyond all my wildest fantasies.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“It’s a secret,” Tom replied from somewhere in the room.
The man sped up his movements then, his hands palming my breasts from behind. It was good, but having a strange cock
inside me felt a bit odd. When he pulled out of me with a groan and fingers replaced his cock, I thought that was it.
But they were far from over.
Another cock thrust into me. A third one.
That cock was thick too but it also curved slightly. How did I know that? Because it hit my G-spot on an upward move and made me see bright, bright stars. He did it again and again, until I couldn’t stop the orgasm that washed over me. I screamed, my back arching.
They took turns all night, filling me with their cocks. Tongues. Fingers. I woke up dizzy and sore, but beyond satisfied.
Tom has promised me we’d do it again soon. I just hope the blindfold stays off next time…
Entry #2: Secret Words
Lips, tongues, teeth, hands, nails, hips, legs. The rush of blood to my cunt, a peculiar murmur in my heart. Words forming at the back of my throat that I can't utter, not yet. So I kiss you harder, work my mouth down and bite your neck, fill myself with your taste - I can't talk with my mouth full. Off to the bedroom, but not the bed - you push me against the wall, press your hard cock against my thigh, lift my shirt over my head, twist my nipples until I come. I retaliate, shove you onto the bed, rip your pants off, start to suck your dick in order to keep myself from saying anything, keep from ruining the moment. But you don't want to come that way.
"Ride me," you gasp. "Please."
I climb on top, slide you inside me, and groan despite the fact that I'm biting my tongue. You've got one hand on my clit, the other grabbing my ass, as I start to thrust up and down. You match my pace, increasing the pressure on my clit with the speed of my hips. Then we're coming, me first, you not far behind.
"Want me to walk you to the door?" I ask when you start to dress.
"No thanks, I can let myself out."
I don't say a word until I hear the door close.
"I love you."
Entry #3: The Bell
Hank disengaged the metal clapper from the glass bell and set them down together like a firefly in a jar. Penny knew her orgasms were trapped in there, too.
Hank was the only suitor who took Penny's premarital chastity as the intended erotic challenge. She sought the same reverie she got from her smutty library -- one hand riffling her pages, the other riffling her pages -- and Hank's words did it. He didn't touch her during sex; they watched one another, and most of all, Penny listened. For months she came only to the sound of his voice.
After he proposed, he gave her the clanging bell; he rang it whenever she orgasmed, until it alone became her primary erotic trigger. And now, a month before the wedding, he'd broken it. "You'll come again before our wedding night," he promised.
But she hadn't, and now they'd been married for two hours, sitting at their reception waiting for salad, and the bell rang and instantly her back arched with climax. She couldn't understand it -- his hands were empty -- but the slickness surged from her cunt like the blood to her cheeks as the bell got louder.
When she could refocus, all her family and friends were smiling at her, yet seemingly unaware of her secret. And then she saw: They were clinking forks against their stemware.
"That means we're supposed to kiss," Hank said, revealing not even an ounce of smugness. Penny leaned in, wondering just how many traditions he could pervert. All of them, she hoped.
Entry #4: Number One Fan
I had to tell her. Before she went too far.
“Janaya–”
She silenced me with her whiskey-soaked mouth. Somehow she landed on top of me.
“Janaya, I–”
Her cool nipple brushed my lips, deflecting any words I might have had. She drew patterns on the face of my tongue and then plunged inside me.
“Baby, I know. I’m too young for you.”
“Well, yes–”
“I have all your albums. I used to fuck myself with your action figure.”
“Um…”
She ground herself on my belly, whittled my voice into hiccuping moans. Gotta tell her.
The words found my mouth as her mouth found my cock.
“No, I’m...ohhhh...”
“Baby, I want you in me.”
“Me? But I’m–”
“Fuck me.”
“Janaya, listen...”
Steel flashed in her cobalt eyes. “Now.”
So young, so beautiful. For all the fame, I’m still just a man.
Her flesh immolated my cock, and she slammed me against the floor. She tightened up. All over. She squealed like Buchanan’s Telecaster.
“First time I heard you play, I knew you’d be my perfect lover, Steve.”
“Janaya...I’m Roger.”
“Huh?”
“The bass player.”
Tight as she’d been, I still felt her clench. “Bass player?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry. I tried–”
“Yeah.” She checked the time. “So…Steve’s room?”
I pointed. She kissed me, followed my finger and knocked.
“Hi, Steve? I used to fuck myself with your action figure.”
Entry #5: We All Have Our Secrets
Gail wears her hair long, to cover the bite I left on the back of her
neck last night. I have on a looser shirt than usual, to give the
fresh scratches on my ribs a little air. Out with friends over drinks
and dinner, my arm around her shoulders, hers around my waist, our
fingers steal to those impressions, drawing our eyes to each others’
in a fleeting, knowing look. We all have our secrets.
Or do we really? When you know what to look for… Here we are, three
couples, six friends, all done up for the night out. Colin doesn’t
have a limp, but tonight he favors his left leg as he walks, as if
something has bruised or strained his thigh muscles. Maya, on the
other hand, walks gingerly, like she doesn’t want to bump anything too
hard with her hips, and sits with a slight intake of breath. Mike and
Bea trade furtive smoldering looks and touches at each other that
could mirror Gail’s and mine, though with different geographies.
It’s not just us, I realize as I turn my attention outward. If you
know how to look, what to look for – her unexpected gasp, his
surreptitious rub, a little shift in the seat. Maybe our secrets
really aren’t. But then I look into Gail’s dark eyes, and I see that
spark that is only mine, and I know it doesn’t matter. I lift her hair
to kiss my mark.
Entry #6: 'My Secret'
It's unfair to make you work harder but only the very best will do...
I have high expectations of what you do to me. How you make my skin scream silently with exquisite pleasure. Get the fine hairs of my body to stand on end. And inside...
You don't even let me prepare. Naked, I'm washing as you appear in the mirror, behind me. Press my bare mound against the cold sink as your stiff heat sears into me. Lip-gnawing contrasts make for an astonishing orgasm... you fucking me on tip-toe against porcelain.
But I hold it in. Don't give sign of coming.
"I'm sure I felt..." You begin, bodies panting, knees trembling. My pussy quivers like taut string. A high unheard note of ecstasy.
"You surprised me." I lie. For the better.
Faked orgasms make men feel good. I fake not coming, because...
"You're still good." And aim for bed.
We don't get there. You intercept me, inject me again. Tackle me, face down on the rug. Feel you do press-ups between my squeezed-tight thighs, snuggling you deeply, raw, from behind. Rest my smiling face on crossed arms.
Climax again, more intensely now.
"Yes?"
"Almost..."
Finally, we hit bed. Ankles on your shoulders, you penetrate deliciously, profoundly. I claw at sheets wildly, senses redlining into the ascendant of all orgasms. Expectations met, surpassed.
You come with terrible, animal poignancy. Rip flawlessly through my quaking soul.
"Tell me you didn't come that time..."
I nod.
But my secret remains. Just.
Entry #7: Missive
Stop. Don't touch another thing. Are you listening, my pet? I've a challenge for you, a secret task. Are you up for it? Nod if you're willing.
Good. I knew you would be. Pick up your purse, keep your phone in your hand and go to the end of the hall. Go now.
Don't hesitate.
You blush so deliciously when you're flustered. Go into the conference room. Yes. That one.
Shut the door. Ah, ah, I didn't say to lock the door.
Did you do as I said this morning?
Show me.
Perfect. The red garter belt is a nice touch.
Oh yes, you are loving this, aren't you my sweet slut? Drop your skirt to the floor.
Now your shirt.
No, leave the bra. Go open the blinds. It's a beautiful day. Perfectly overcast so there's no reflection on the windows.
Can you see all those offices across the street? Can you see people in them?
Oh yes, my dear, absolutely perfect.
Pull a chair over and present yourself to them just as you would to me.
Yes. Just like that.
Prop your feet on the glass.
Now touch yourself.
Shh. No sounds now...remember? This little interlude is a secret.
Entry #8: Irresistible
She wasn’t my type. She wasn’t even conventionally beautiful, but there was something about her that attracted men like moths to a flame and I was no exception. Her face was asymmetrical, with one eye slightly higher than the other and the nose just a little crooked. She had no curves to speak of, but when she walked there was a sway to her hips that was undeniably womanly. And when she danced, oh God how she danced! Her body undulated and her eyes closed as she got lost in the rhythm. Suddenly they snapped open and she looked directly at me. If looks could fuck I’d have come in my pants then and there. “You and me,” said those eyes. “Right now.” A nagging voice in the back of my mind warned not to rush into anything I might later regret but I wasn’t listening. I took her arm and we hustled out of there so fast I left my coat on the back of the chair.
We barely made it inside my apartment before we started tearing each other’s clothes off. “I don’t normally-“ I started to protest and she stopped with her hand halfway inside my pants. “Never mind!” I gasped.
“What’s your secret?” I asked afterwards as I lay there exhausted watching a droplet of sweat wind its way down her neck to the hollow beneath her collarbone. “What makes you so damn irresistible?”
She smiled and shook her head. “That would be telling.”
Entry #9: Can you tell?
I wonder if you know my secret.
I look into your amused eyes and wonder if you know what I’m thinking.
Do you notice when I shake your hand hello I take a second to stroke your fingers? I’ve always wondered how those long fingers would feel buried deep inside me. The thought makes my pussy damp with need.
When we speak, I wonder how you would sound panting, moaning my name. Would your voice grow deeper with desire? Would it be high, pleading for release? The imagined sound makes my nipples harden with desperation.
When you laugh, your tongue peeking out from between those pink lips, I wonder how well it would swirl around my clit, lapping up my juices before plunging in and out of my wet cunt. My clit throbs, straining against my thong.
When you move behind me, to let another pass us in the hallway, I can feel your hard cock, and I wonder if you’re long enough to hit the right spot, the one guaranteed to make me cum and cry in release and relief. I wonder if you’ll be able to fuck me to satisfaction.
I wonder if you even have a thought that after you go to your office, I’ll have to rush to the ladies room and finger myself until I manage to gush all over my hand with pent up frustration at the wondering I’ve been doing.
Every day, at eight o’clock – I wonder if you know my secret.
Entry #10: For You
Last night we were unstoppable, insatiable, super-sexed and forge-hot. You left marks in places that people will see if I am not careful. I left the scent of satisfaction rubbed, cat-like, all over you.
This morning we tumbled out of bed late, no time to shower, but sated. Will people close to you on the train know of our debauchery? Will people whiff the scent of lust in my office? I hate washing us off my skin.
Today, I will play my game. You know the one. Out in public, every glance at a stranger becomes a flirt, every accidental touch becomes foreplay. Will they know it, go home and fuck their partner? Spread the love. Do they know that they are holding your place until I see you again?
Shopping for wisps that only you will appreciate, flirting with the salesclerk and wondering if she sees the perfect marks of your teeth on my shoulder. She smiles as I turn and drops her eyes to my ass, not realizing the mirror shows me her consideration. I daydream briefly of a threesome and your beautiful cock dancing her to the edge of explosion, my tongue setting it off.
Every breeze brings fantasy, every thought evokes hunger. For you, for us. I wander through the day with a smile on my lips, wearing you like a tattoo. I am sex incarnate, Voluptas on firmament, simmering until I can be with you again.
Entry #11: All In a Day's Work
It's amazing what some folks put out of their minds. People pay me exorbitant amounts of money to invade their lives, and within a month they've completely forgotten that I'm watching their every move. The ghost in the security machine.
House 1: alseep.
I'm the best money can buy, though, and if I'm often watching bedrooms, so what? The client's most vulnerable there.
House 2: asleep.
House 3: Bingo. The owner's brought a new plaything over. He looks cute, too, from what I can see of the top of his head. He's lying back on the bed, but he props up on his elbows to get a better look at the guy sucking his cock. Perfect—then I can see his face too, which is my favourite part. The boys in the porn flicks never get the expressions right; they're too busy trying to fake the right sounds.
Owner 3 comes and his eyes glaze over. God that expression is so hot! It's like his brain can only take so much sensory input and it gives up sight to enjoy the overload of amazing tactile stimulus. I tuck a hand into my pants, and shortly my vision blurs too when I join him. Quickly though—I don't want to miss watching him come down off his high.
Even so, I almost miss it: #3 smirks at the Tom of Finland print that conceals the camera I'm currently accessing and winks.
Maybe I'm not as forgotten as I thought.
Entry #12: Keeping Secrets
Chloe whispered to her friend. The giggles and pointed looks at the
other party-goers told me everything. A smile crossed my lips as I
slipped through the crowds, pulling a ball gag from my pocket. Silence
rippled away from me as I reached Chloe. My hands draped over her
shoulders, resting my hands on the swells of her breasts. She looked
up at me, her smile fading with realization. I lifted the gag to her
mouth and she let out a soft moan before I eased it between her lips.
Strapping it tight, I bent her over her friend's legs. The blond girl,
wearing a black dress, inhaled sharply as Chloe's hair pooled into her
lap. I lifted up one hand and brought it down on Chloe's ass.
The crack of flesh and her muted gasp stopped conversations. I looked
up and explain myself.
"She told my secrets."
Knowing smirks and smiles. I took their encouragement and spanked her
again, slapping Chloe's left cheek. She let out a muffled squeal. I
continued to spank her, filling the room with the noise.
Others watched with fascination, touching themselves and each other as
I spanked Chloe. As my hand came down, her red dress rode up, exposing
redder cheeks. Underneath, I smelled her excitement and felt slickness
when I ran a finger down her lips.
I finished at twenty.
My eyes rose up to her friend, then gestured to the bedroom.
"In the bedroom, you're next."
"W-Why?"
"Because you heard my secrets."
Entry # 13: The Subway
Look, I'll be honest: when you kiss me, it makes me think about fucking you. Maybe that's wrong, but I can't help it. I don't mean a peck on the cheek or anything, but once your tongue meets mine? Once lips part and there's wetness and part of you sliding into part of me? I mean, forget it. Which is why even the most casual snog out in public can become wildly inappropriate and fast.
Which is why on the train last night I tried to pull away. I was getting too worked up too quickly and we both knew it. Fortunately there was hardly anyone around, but still. If it hadn't been for the rattle and hum they all would have heard my breath speed up, catch, come out: a sigh about to go rogue and turn moan any second now if I didn't control myself. The way your tongue thrust and withdrew had my nipples hard, my clit throbbing, my whole body yearning for yours. And you held my face in both hands, the same way you do when you shove your cock into my mouth, which made me want nothing so much as to be on my knees in front of you, right there, onlookers be damned…and then you pinched my nipple, secret, close to the wall where no one could see, and I gasped, trembling, lightheaded just from this, just from kissing you.
And when we got home you made me wait, wait until I begged.
Wow, right? I am so gobsmacked by the quality of these little stories! You all should pat yourselves wherever you most like to be patted. Job well done! Oh, now I made sure there are 13 stories and 13 entries on the poll, but if I effed up in anyway, do drop me a note at msalisontyler at yahoo dot com.
XXX,
Alison
P.S. I'll be in and out this week (that's what he said). So look for me on my other blogs, like Torn Shredded Whole and Color Me Scarlet — but I'm probably going to keep the poll at the top of this page.
