The Letter

He opened the envelope. Her reply. His heart started racing.

He knew he had taken a risk. In writing to her, setting out his desire, his wishes. Opening himself.

And here was her handwriting on the envelope. To him.

It had been lying on his desk when he arrived in the office. He was early so she must have left it the night before. She wouldn’t arrive for half an hour.

He knew her schedule. Always noticed when she swung through the door of the office in the morning. Bringing a certain mood in with her. A complex, open, sultry, pointed air of abandon.

He was sure that only he had noticed it. Had noticed her in fact. Had taken in the sweep of her body as she moved. The way she was open to the possibilities of life that made his heart race.

She had been in the firm for around three months.  They worked in separate teams, so he hadn’t had much chance to work with her.

But he saw her all the time.

When he realised that he had started seeing her when he was on the tube, when he was making dinner, when he was alone at night, he was shocked. He had never had someone invade his personal space as she had – directly into his imagination.

He imagined talking to her over a drink, a meal. He started shaving more carefully, taking more care over how he dressed. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he knew that it was all because of her.

And then two days ago he had found his courage. He knew he needed to connect with her.  He sat at home and wrote a letter. Not something that anyone does these days, but he did it. He wrote and re-read and started again. He wanted to tell her everything that was in his heart and mind. And it was too much, far too much.

He started the letter again. This time he was more direct. Just told her that he wanted to know her. That something in her spoke to his heart and soul. That he was attracted by her. That he wanted to connect.

He left the letter on her desk before she arrived. that day was torture. She had either read his words and was unmoved. Or she was busy, would get it in time.

He turned to the note she had put in the envelope. He opened it. Read her word. Her writing.


I am so glad you wrote. I didn’t know how to make it more obvious that I fancy you. You must have noticed how I have been dressing, acting, being.

I want to get to know you. Stay late this evening and let’s talk. Maybe catch a meal?

Thank you.

The Shy Woman”

He put the letter down. She would be here soon.  He sent an email. A single word. Yes.


The Hotel

She smiled to herself as she turned onto the motorway.

An adventure.  All for herself.

They had been exploring for a while.  Sending messages, chatting. And then he had suggested meeting!

She had been unsure at first. It was a big step. To move from flirtation to exposing yourself to him in real life, to the possibility of attraction, and to the potential for the opposite.

She tried to listen to the radio. It bored her. She just wanted to be at the hotel.


He was travelling too, With similar thoughts.. excitement, anticipation, fear.

An adventure of his making. Of his desires.

What if she didn’t like him in person. What if he wasn’t to her taste? Too late to turn back.  He was committed.


She drew into the courtyard of the hotel, covered in wisteria, an old, stone building. This was it. She took her bag from the car and entered.

She went to the desk and introduced herself. There was a reservation for her. And an envelope.  She took it and went to the lift to find her room.

Oh, it was lovely. A large room, with a four poster bed and a big bathroom.

There were flowers and a package on the bed.

His gift to her, read the note. She unwrapped the most beautiful dress. Black, satin, slightly stiff, with a wide skirt. The bodice cut low. And underneath a basque. Black satin too, with a pair of unbelievably soft silk stockings.

Her phone buzzed. He had messaged her.  “Be ready at 7. I will be waiting at the bar.”

She had an hour. Plenty of time.

She showered, dressed in her new clothes. They fit perfectly and she was aware of her body under the dress. He had not provided knickers…as she had predicted.

She pulled on her patent heels…high and pointed. She was ready.


She entered the bar and saw him immediately. His broad back was turned. He wore a suit as black as her dress.

He turned and saw her and she saw lust in his eyes. Unmistakable. She smiled. She liked him. She fancied him. It would be good.


They went through to the restaurant, his hand guiding her on the small of her back. She quivered slightly. They were guided to a table in the corner, their seats at right angle to each other.

He said, “Hi, I am so happy that you came.”

He ordered for them. He had studied the menu and chose well. Potted crab, duck. With rich wines.

He asked what she wanted next and she was silent. He gently rose, eased her from her chair and guided her by the arm to the lifts.


In the lift he kissed her. Full and deep. She felt his longing. They walked towards her room.

At the door he quietly whispered, “I have had a lovely evening. I want you. And will respect your choice. If you open the door, you will be mine. If you ask me to leave, I will hope for another time.”

He looked deep into her eyes.  She felt her body respond. She slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. “Come”, she said.


They entered. He closed the door and took her in his arms. Holding, pressing against her.

She opened herself. She wanted. She looked up at this beautiful man, and he kissed her.

She knew now. She knew with all her being. She wanted this. She wanted him.

He kissed wonderfully, gently then hard, opening  her lips with his tongue, his hands stroking her back and her bum. Oh she wanted him. She wanted it all.

She felt the zip at the back of her dress being opened. His fingers stroking her bare back. The dress slipped to the floor and he stood back.

“You are beautiful. I want you.”

His words touched her more deeply than she had expected. She felt alive, wet, open.

Standing in her heels, stockings and basque she felt exposed and powerful. Oh fuck this was what she had wanted.


He told her to pull down the basque…to bare her breasts. And she did. Brazen, daring and so turned on.

He leaned in to kiss her breasts, sucking and stroking her nipples with his broad tongue.

She quivered. Just this. Just this was what she needed.

He pulled her, pushed her, handled her.

She was kneeling, her upper body on the bed.

His big hands ran up her thighs, pressing her legs open.

“Oh, yes.”, she thought.

He told her to hold her position. To let him see. To gaze.

She felt her pussy twitch at his commanding tone!

His hands moved over her thighs and bum, stroking, enflaming, teasing.

His hand reached to take her wrists, one hand gripping easily to hold her hands behind her back.

She felt her legs slide wider. An involuntary response.

And at last. At last, she felt his cock. Hard and pressed against her cunt.

She wanted him. To be used. To be fucked.

And he pressed into her. Her pussy responded, exploded with her juices.

She was being fucked by this man. This man who had opened her and teased her. Had explored her mind and was now exploring her deeply.

Her eyes closed. All of her sensation in her body, her pussy, her breasts pressed into the bed.

She pushed back on his hard cock.

She wanted.

Oh, yes.

Oh fuck.

He was taking her. He wanted her.

He spanked her. It sent a shiver through every deepness she owned.

Oh..she felt it. Her body responding. Her pussy gripping.

He gasped, fucking her hard and fast.

He wanted her. He owned her body. He was alive in her cunt.

And they dissolved together, coming hard, their bodies spasming. Fuck yes. This this this.

He stroked her back.

They moved together.

Taking their place beside each other. Each sovereign, each owned. Sublime.



His sleep was troubled, twisted in the sheet,

His skin pricked, fired by internal heat.

A shadow flitted dark across his eyes,

Within the shadow lay the price, the prize.


His thoughts fragment, as seen in a scrying glass.

Turned to her, or all that might come to pass.

The sense of her, damp, delicious, soft-scented

Rose to his mind, with images invented.


Her face, her smile, the curve of hip and breast

Woke his body, elbow-sharp lust broke his rest.

The spark of her image lit a fire,

Heated the burning cauldron of his desire.


Fully awake, intense, alive, he moaned

Her name. Lost, he was owned.



Lap it up

cumshot (2)

He had told her little on the phone.  Just a place to be and a time.  Oh, and detailed instructions on what to wear.

She got ready slowly, wanting to look her best for him, as she always did.  She took a long bath, did her hair, her nails – blood red.  She wore little make up except for the dark red lipstick that he liked.

She stood in front of the mirror, liking what she saw.  Her black hair was long now, framing her face, her dark eyes glinting and the wide mouth she was especially proud of – her smile was what he said he had first noticed about her.  Her breasts were full and the nipples a nice size.  Her waist was slim and her legs long.  Yes, she felt good. She felt powerful.

She turned to look over her shoulder – the marks were almost gone – it was too long since she had seen him.  Too long since he had last flogged her so deliciously.

She dressed – a basque which pushed her breasts up high and the fishnet stockings he had insisted on. No knickers of course – she would have been surprised if he had said anything else.  The dress – black, floating around her legs but clinging to her bust, with thin straps.  And the very high black stilettos.  A shawl finished off the look.

And now for the final touch, which he had insisted she do only after she was fully dressed. She prepared herself, a little lubricant smeared on the instrument before she reached under her dress to spread herself and insert the plug into her arse.  She hadn’t been allowed this for weeks and it hurt her until she relaxed and adjusted to the twitch of her muscles as they squeezed this intruder.

She waited for the taxi.  Wondering what he had in store for her.  She hoped it was the leather strap – she loved it.  It hurt so much, left her aching, wanting, yearning until he pushed his cock inside her, dissolving her pain into such extreme pleasure.

She wriggled a little during the taxi ride.  This plug was slightly bigger than the last one and just a little uncomfortable.  She hoped that she wasn’t too wet.  She didn’t want to leave a stain on the seat.  Fuck, she was so turned on.  They hadn’t been together for over three weeks.  She needed him, wanted him, lusted for him so much.

She arrived at the address – a tall townhouse – and almost ran up they steps. She rang the bell and the door opened almost immediately.  There were no lights on, but his voice told her to step inside, to keep walking, to turn left, enter the next room, and to put down her shawl and her bag.

She complied, knowing that he was setting the scene, knowing that he wanted her, moving carefully in the pitch black.

She felt him come behind her, telling her not to move, as he slowly kissed her neck. She shivered, loving the touch of his hands on her waist and those lips raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

He slowly unzipped her dress and pulled it up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor beside her.  She waited, knowing that this was her role, to await his pleasure.

He took her hands, one by one, attaching the leather cuffs and fastening them somewhere so that her arms were raised and spread.  She wanted him to see her now, her breasts were thrust forward and firm as she grew more and more aroused, waiting for the moment when he would start her journey.  She could feel her cunt, wet already, opening slightly, expectant as he reached down, gently pressing the plug deeper into her arse, as if checking that she had followed his instructions.

He placed a blindfold over her eyes, then caressed her face with his fingertips, just for a moment, but showing his care for her in just that small gesture.

She heard the sound of matches striking – Oh God, candle play.  She felt herself flinch, and then became conscious of other sounds, of movement in the room, the creak of furniture.

She felt him move close.  He kissed her, his hands on the back of her neck, pulling her mouth against his.  He was so fucking good at turning her on.

He removed the blindfold and stood in front of her, meeting her eyes in the soft light now provided by lamps and candles.  He kissed her again, this time reaching around to pull her whole body against his.  She felt his cock press against her through his clothes, his scent surrounding her.

Now he moved away and she cried out with surprise.  They were not alone in the room. Straight in front of her, hidden before by his body, there was a table. Spread on the table was a naked woman, tied firmly on her back, her legs and arms spread, her face obscured by a mask.

“Fuck”, she thought, “What was going on?”

Her lover slowly removed his clothes, revealing his body, his strength showing in the muscles moving under his skin.  She wanted him to hold her, to reassure her, but knew not to ask at this moment.

He approached the woman on the table, reaching out to touch her cunt, pressing his fingers inside her, spreading her lips.  He moved to the other end of the table, pressing the woman’s head back as he introduced his hard cock to her mouth.  She couldn’t see properly, but she could sense that he was pressing it deep into her, sliding it over her tongue and into her throat.

He thrust again, this time raising his head to meet her gaze, a smile touching the corners of his mouth as the woman took him deep, her tongue busy, stroking his shaft.

He moved again and this time climbed on the table between the woman’s legs, hardly pausing before pushing into her cunt, keeping himself raised so that she could see his cock disappear.  He pulled out and started rhythmically fucking her, his cock pushing deep each time, the woman’s hips rising slightly to meet him.

She could not tear her eyes from the sight of this man, the one she adored, fucking another.  She whimpered slightly, but more through excitement than through pain.  She could almost feel his cock inside her and squirmed in her bonds.

His body tensed in the way she knew so well.  He was about to come.  Fuck, he was about to come inside another woman while she was there.  He had promised that he would never do that without her agreement!  She pulled on the cuffs holding her back, and then watched as he pulled his cock out, just before his climax.  He moved to the side of the table and with a few short strokes of his hand, he came, spurting over the woman’s body, her stomach, her breasts.

He came to her again, putting his arms around her, holding her close and whispered in her ear, “I kept my promise.  Now keep yours.”

He untied her and led her to the table where the woman lay still bound.  She knew what she had to do.  She had promised always to drink his cum whenever he told her to. Trembling, she bent over the woman.  She stretched out her tongue and started to lick across her body, following the trails of white liquid.  She tasted the woman’s skin, as she lapped between her breasts, then finding more spattered over them.  She looked closely and, satisfied that she had found every last drop, she turned to him.

He led her to a room next door and told her to wait.

He went out, presumably to release the other woman, and then returned.  She could tell by his face that he was pleased with her.  Pleased that she had known what to do and had followed his instructions.  Pleased that he was with her, holding her, his mouth on hers as they tasted his cum together.

He made her kneel over the sofa and slowly pulled out the butt plug.  He briefly showed her the paddle he held in his hand.  Fuck yes, she needed that now.

As she received the blows he gave her, she flooded with love for this man, the one who understood what she needed, who had brought to life the scene she had emailed to him a few weeks before.

And she flooded in other ways as he now fucked her, taking her deep inside herself with every stroke of his cock.

A Kitty Recalls

Written at request…


He woke her so softly, a stroke on her arms.

He felt her warm body, studied her charms.

She stirred, shedding dreams, the drum of her mind.

And recalled the sweet night and the contract she signed.


It gave him the right to use her at will.

To fill her and open her, holding her still

As his cock took her deep, so hard (and so large).

To take what he wanted, command and take charge.


Last night he had tied her with grace and with strength.

He’d teased her and played with her pussy at length.

He touched her so sexily, stroking her flank.

And moved on to give what she wanted, his spank.


Now she woke fully, speaking his name.

He growled and he kissed her with passion aflame.

She opened her legs, the heat rising from thighs

That demanded much more – and her gaze met his eyes.


She lowered her mouth to his cock with a grin,

She patiently swallowed the whole of it in.

He realised then he was utterly smitten.

He’d found her, his very own slut, Kinky Kitten



, ,

Every time you breathe,

Your breasts rising under my hands,

I feel the sense of your grief,

Pressing into you, the bands

Of past pain tightening.


You sleep within my arms,

Warm, your back soft against me.

I gasp for air, for calm,

Stroking your hair, nothing to see

Just to thrill in your lightning.


I do not know you dreams

Until you share them, piecing

Them together from half-formed themes.

I watch you in slumber, eyes creasing.

Your body and soul engaged in fighting.


I lie awake, my legs in yours.

You shift and open, deep in sleep.

Unknowingly you close and open doors

To your thoughts and instincts deep.

All of this my love igniting.


Entering the dark place, embracing the loss of hope.

Sitting on your back, the weight coiled like rope.

Sinking to depths you had not known, til now.

The deep pressured closing in, which you endow

With horrors, known and ghostly. seen and ignored.

The terror of truth. You: openly flawed.


The disillusion, opening the pain

Of knowing yourself, knowing no gain

Will come of this; no easy passing.

The would is open, gushing, all-encompassing.

Understanding every broken part of your soul.

Fearing to hope. Accepting your own goal.


Have you been here? Come, join the fun.

But bring – at the very least – bring a gun.

Bring the ways and means to end the yolk.

Bring the laughter, force the killing joke.

Join me in my pit, my wild despair.

It draws you in, the monster in its lair.

Lifting the veil

The moment when the veil becomes clear,

Forgetting shame and loss and fear.

That is when we move together,

Our actions, our touch as light as a feather.


We open gently, budding flowers

Of love. With deep and lasting powers

We give ourselves to lust and feeling.

In sex we find a way of healing.


With every stroke, caress and touch,

We grow in love, in love so much.

I enter you. And stay a while.

Close and deep, lost in your smile.


Your eyes say, “Take me!”. And I press

So deep.  I ache and want to possess

Your depths, your soul, your inmost being.

We both ignite, we both are seeing


That space where nothing more exists

Than what will evermore persist.

Our love, out touch, our bold desire

That keeps us moving ever higher.


The instant I saw you, gracing our lives

I knew you had something – that same thing that drives

Men to distraction and women to wonder

That beauty as yours was here for the plunder.


I stopped. You were more than

The sum of your beauty, and so I began

To engage my full being, to question

Myself and my need for a full quick possession.


You spoke. And you screamed out in passion,

In suffering your truth. I felt you devour your ration

Of treatment so sour and so poor

That you closed up your heart and closed up your door.


I made myself small and I looked for the key.

The way to your heart – not just tea and sympathy.

I told you the thoughts that came clear and strong.

You told me that I was both right and wrong.


We continue to strive for the place we can dive

Into new explorations of closeness. To drive

Ourselves deeper to knowledge, to deep understanding.

To wisdom and more, to a closer expanding.


To you, to you I give my gifts.


Peeling away layers; the shame, the guilt,

The fear of failure, the not good enough.

Dropping them slowly, those things inbuilt.

Feeling them slide off, a gentle slough.


Matching your time to the music, the beat

Which pounds in your body; moves your soul.

Then slows, you change your attack through your feet.

Alive now and dropping your self-control.


This dance, which invites you to joy in its fire.

Invites you to share on your altar aflame.

Invites you to show your naked desire

As you gently remove every stitch of your shame.


You join with another or two or three more.

Desiring the truth which their touch surely brings.

In anger and love. In darkness you roar.

Your strength makes you supple, your muscles sing.


And slowly you show yourself true and in pain,

And also in happiness, chasing your dreams.

The trace of another’s warm flesh and you strain

To maintain all five senses, to loosen the seams.


Then tied to another, in their soft embrace,

Created by trust and by conscious abandon

Their scent and yours mingled, you melt in the space

The magic, the open desire felt in tandem.


The memory stays of a magical time.

When everyone gathered to share their true place.

When every word spoken was conscious of rhyme;

And our bodies were open to feelings of grace.