A Santa Baby Parody

Thought I do a dirrty version of Santa Baby for the holiday season. Enjoy!



Santa Baby
Just leave your stocking cap on the door
For your little whore.

Been at the top of your naughty list
Santa Baby
Let’s get your sleigh rockin’ tonight!

Santa Baby
We’ll put all your working elves to shame
And play some reindeer games.

I’ll make those rosy cheeks even rosier
Santa Baby
Let’s get your sleigh rockin’ tonight!

Think of all the fun we’ll have
Spanking my ass for being bad
You can invite Rudolph and Frosty too
They can both fuck me as I blow you!
Oooo Oooo Oooo!

Santa Baby
Do you me to be on top?
So break out the chains and riding crop!

You can tie me down
Santa Baby
Let’s get your sleigh rockin’ tonight.

Santa Horny
I’ll wear the Mrs. Claus outfit today
We’ll roleplay!

Skip the foreplay
Santa Baby
Let’s get your sleigh rockin’ tonight!

Santa Booty
Use your tongue and make me wet
I’m ready to squirt I’ll bet!
Santa Booty
Let’s get your sleigh rockin’ tonight!

Come and trim my bush
As you pound me in my tush
I’ll make your minty candy cane grow
As call me your dirty Ho Ho Ho!

Santa Baby
Forgot to use a rubber. So sorry
Santa Baby
If you have a burning sensation when you pee
It’s a trip to the free clinic for an STD
Santa Baby
Grab some penicillin for me!
Hurry and grab some penicillin for me!

Ink

“YOU’RE FIRED COLLEGE BOY!”

“FUCK OFF SHANE! I QUIT!” screamed Terry.

Terry Raines clenched his fists as he stood up to his boss Shane Axel. Sure at 5’8, 150 pounds, dark hair, and dark eyes, Terry would get his ass beat by Shane who towered over him. The other tattoo artists of Gargoyle Ink broke out into applause as clients and other customers watched the drama unfold between a hobbit and a giant.

“Give him Hell Terry!” whooped Shane’s sister Greta as she lifted the tattoo needle from her client’s back. “About time somebody told that asshole off!”

“Bitch! Maybe you’d like to join him!” Shane threatened.

“Leave her alone Shane!” interrupted Terry. “Just try to fire her ass and she’ll take her loyal celebrity clients with her! She’s one of the best tattoo artists you’ve got! Do you want to lose business because of your stupid, fucking pride?”

“FUCK ALL OF YOU THEN!” shrieked Shane. “YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN MY SHOP BETTER THAN ME THEN FUCKING GO RIGHT AHEAD! I’M OUT OF HERE! HAVE A NICE LIFE! AND TERRY TELL THOSE ASSES ON MOTHERFUCKING WALL STREET TO SUCK MY DICK!”

“Shane, what the fuck?” said Terry. “You just can’t walk out on your business. You got clients booked all day!”

“FUCK THEM!” he snapped. Slipping on his leather jacket, Shane marched out the door.

The rest of the tattooists of Gargoyle Ink remained speechless. They could not believe their eyes. For the first time in ten years since the shop opened, their boss and owner Shane Axel had completely quit his business. As the artists looked at each other befuddled, Terry finally spoke up.

“Not to worry people,” he reassured his crew. “Shane in his normal fashion is blowing off steam. He’ll calm down and come back to the office. Right now I’m still your manager and I’m still in charge. Let’s just get through the day.”

And they did.



Later that evening.

Ten o’clock rolled around and Terry sent everyone home while Greta helped him close up shop. After counting the money and totaling up the day’s figures, they made a pretty nice profit despite the confrontation of Shane’s and Terry’s outbursts earlier. Greta and Terry began cleaning the equipment for the next day until Great decided to break the monotony by grilling him with questions.

“So what was the real deal that happened earlier today Terry?” she asked him. “I’ve never seen my brother so upset.”

“Oh that’s just Shane being Shane,” he replied.

“Get off it Terry,” she prodded. “There’s more to story here. We’re all friends so level with me. What is going on?”

Terry stared down at the counter as he sprayed and wiped repeatedly hoping to avert the question. Obviously, Greta Axel was not going to let up.

“Fine Greta,” he began. “The truth is I’m considering a job offer for a marketing position with a big time ad agency in New York. Shane found out about it and blew his lid.”

“You not seriously going to take it are you?” she asked.

“I don’t know Greta,” he responded. “It’s a lucrative offer with a high salary. Plus, it is what I went to school for. Besides, there is really nothing keeping me here.”

“Nothing keeping you here?” she clucked. “You ungrateful asshole! What about the friends you’ve got here. Me! Your tattooing crew! More importantly, you have Shane here!”

Terry looked up at her with surprise. Did she know? Of course, she did.

“Don’t try to play dumb with me Terry Raines!” she told him. “Like I didn’t know that you and my brother were screwing each other. Just come out of the closet already! Nobody cares!”

“For your information Miss Know-It-All I’ve been out of the closet since I was sixteen,” he corrected. “It’s your brother that doesn’t know where we stand or what he wants. He won’t share anything with me. A few hook ups and he ignores me. I deserve better Greta and I can’t wait around for something that probably will never happen.”

“Terry, you need to know something about me and my brother Shane,” said Greta. “We grew up in Utah in a religious Mormon town. Our father was a pastor and when my brother came out as a teenager, my father threw him out of the house. Shane somehow made his way to Los Angeles where he learned to rebel and become a tattoo artist. As soon as he became an adult, he opened up Gargoyle Ink where I helped him run the business. Because of our upbringing, Shane learned to be hard on the inside, bottling his feelings, and building a brick wall around him so he won’t get hurt. For years, I’ve seen him sacrifice potential relationships but with you it’s different. You’re that only person that has been able break down his barriers and get him to feel anything at all. You’re different Terry Raines. You’re special!”

“Oh come on,” laughed Terry. “I’m simply the prudish, dorky college student who needed a job to pay for grad school. Shane just needed someone with good business sense and organizational skills to help pull his struggling business out a hole. You guys gave me a hard time as the shop’s manager when Shane hired me, remember?”

“How can we forget?” giggled Greta. “You came in a suit and stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of us tatted and pierced freaks. We had a pool of how long you were going to last. I had you in for a full half hour. Damn, I was going to buy some new Doc Martens with that money! The point is you stuck it out for four years, help turn this place around, and single handedly got my brother to smile again. My brother never smiles!”

“I think that is the acridine dye from the tattoo ink that is making him euphoric,” smirked Terry.

“Personally I prefer the naphthol derivatives,” she teased. “You get both a stimulant and depressant out of it. It’s like Red Bull and vodka. It gives you wings!”

They broke into a fit of laughter just as the door opened.

“Sorry buddy, we’re closed!” said Greta.

“FUCK OFF GRETA!” shouted the voice. “Take your ass home! I need to talk to Terry.”

At 6 feet, 200 pounds of tattooed muscle and a buzzed cut of sandy brown hair, Shane Axel towered over his employees. He did not look happy. Greta silently made a quick getaway before any other drama played out.


________________________________________________________________________


Shane said nothing as he locked the door as soon as Greta left and drew the blinds. Terry sat down in a chair behind the receptionist’s counter as he waited for a response from Shane. With not so much as a grunt, Terry got annoyed.

“Okay Shane, let’s have it out right here where no one is watching,” he told him. “You know you have a problem with me accepting that job in New York so you might as well come out as say it!”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” answered Shane. “I was being an ass. Look you’re the best manager my shop has ever had. I panicked a little. New York is a good opportunity for you. I can’t hold you back. It was selfish of me so I’m apologizing. I want to make it up to you.”

Shane said nothing more as he entered his office, returned with a large envelope carrying a wad of bills, and handed it to Terry.

“This should be the last of your pay for the rest of the week plus a little extra as a bonus,” said Shane. “I’ll take care of the rest your shifts until I can find a replacement for you because you might be too busy packing.” He turned his back to Terry and walked back into his office.

Surprised by his abruptness, Terry followed.

“Shane thank you,” said Terry. “This is quite…um generous.”

“Your welcome,” replied Shane. “You’ve earned it. Is there anything else?”

Nervously, Terry thought for a minute. “Yes, there is.”

“What?”

“Shane, I want…I want…a tattoo!”

Shane’s eyes widened in surprise. “Terry, are you sure? You know ink is permanent. Myself and everyone here knew what we were getting into when we had ours done. Tattoos stay with you forever. Are you still sure about this?”

“Positive,” said Terry. “You know I’ve always been the goody goody here since I was the only employee of yours who refused to have any body art done to him. It’ll be a memento of my time here at Gargoyle Ink. I want you to do it Shane. I’ll even pay you for it!”

“No Terry, you’ve done enough for me,” reassured Shane. “It’s on the house. Which one were you thinking and where you want it done?”

“A row of interlocking hearts on my back going down my spine to the curve of my ass,” he said with conviction.

“Terry!” exclaimed Shane. “That area is really sensitive to pain. I don’t think you can handle it.”

“That is why I am requesting you to do my tattoo,” said Terry. “You’ll be gentle. They’re will be less pain involved.”

“Fine,” griped Shane. “Get yourself ready!”




Terry laid himself face down on the ink bed. He stripped himself completely naked. He did not mind since he had been intimate with Shane before so his boss had seen him unclothed during their time together. His heart beat rapidly as he heard the vibrating noise of Shane preparing the tattoo needle.

“Just relax Terry,” whispered Shane in his ear. “I’m going to try to make this as comfortable for you as possible.” A sanitized cloth fell across his shoulder and back as he felt Shane’s rubber glove massage the back of his flesh. He could hear the closeness of the needle as his body tensed. He could sense it come closer to his skin. Then silence.

“I can’t,” said Shane.

“What?” asked a puzzled Terry slowly rising to his side. “What’s wrong Shane?”

“I won’t mark your skin Terry,” confessed Shane pushing the needle away. “I’m sorry but I can’t deface something that is already beautiful.”

“You do it all the time to our clients,” said Terry. “Why not me?”

“Because I don’t have feelings for them!” confessed Shane. “I only care about you!”

“You don’t want me to go, do you Shane?”

A tear welled up in Shane’s eye. “No it hurts too much inside. Terry, I can’t promise you anything or give you what you need but believe me when I say that I don’t want to lose you!”

“I believe you Shane,” replied Terry. “Now Shane, why don’t you show me how much you need me by making love to me. Not just a simple fuck like all those other time but honest to goodness love making session. I want to know what it like is to feel something with you for once.”

“Let’s see if I can oblige my client on this one,” teased Shane. He kicked off his shoes, socks, pants, and shirt just to lie next to Terry. Their mouths met as their tongues wrapped each other in their moist warmness. Arms interlocked, Terry’s hands pressed into Shane’s back as he massaged the intricate lines of ink that crisscrossed his lover’s spine. Shane moved his mouth to caress Terry’s neck as he heard him gasp just as a nibble was felt on the nape of Terry’s shoulder and Adam’s apple.

Both men knelt down in front of one another as Shane took Terry’s hand guiding him down the lines of his incredible body art. Each ripple of his finger stroked, massaged and rubbed against the ink covering and concealing every concave of Shane’s well developed chest and erected nipples. Terry kissed each dark trace of ink finding the small bumps around Shane’s areolas playfully sucking each nub before lowering his tongue down the deep grooves of his six pack abdomen, navel, and finally the nest of curls where Shane was standing at full attention.

Cupping one hand around his sack, Terry stroked Shane slowly listening to him moan as he playfully caressed each round orb into his mouth as Shane tried to hold back his pleasure. A small emission of pre-ejaculate released giving Terry the next cue to cover his mouth on Shane’s massive shaft tasting the saltiness of his seed and swallowing him whole. Terry lifted and lowered his head in rhythm as Shane happily obliged him by bucking his hips in the same melody as Terry played an erotic tune with his enormous girth.

Pleased with his lover’s attention to detail, Shane withdrew from Terry’s mouth and scrambled to the drawer counter’s looking for something.

“Lube and condoms fifth drawer on your right,” smiled Terry as he watched his lover rapidly grab the accoutrements of their love making.

“Thanks,” grinned a wicked Shane as he ripped the condom package spread on the lube. Squirting the transparent substance on his middle finger, he teased Terry’s opening with the tip of his finger before slowly inserting a moist finger within him. Terry marveled at his tightness as his felt another of Shane’s finger spreading him gently. Letting a soft moan, he unexpectedly grabbed Shane’s wrist as prepared for the final phase of their consummation.

“Terry, I don’t want to be so rough with you this time,” explained Shane. “Am I hurting you?”

“Shane, it’s okay,” purred Terry. “You’re not.”

Shane released his fingers from Terry, spreading his thighs wide and laying his legs across his shoulders. Finding that sacred place, he slowly entered Terry’s masculine folds. The tightness engulfed him as he felt pressure of his shaft being pleasured by Terry’s holy spot. Terry moaned in agreement in response to Shane plunging himself deep inside him causing him to curl his toes with each sensation. Both men grunted and groaned as the echoes of flesh colliding filled the room with an erotic atmosphere of sexual deviancy.

The rhythm continued and progressed as Terry and Shane looked at each other and smiled. Shane could not contain himself how beautiful his lover was and could not hold back any longer. Erupting in a gusher of masculinity, he climaxed filling his condom laced shaft with enough seed to rebuild the planet’s population. Terry did the same as he stroked his own shaft and emptied his own seed on to Shane’s thigh. Both men embraced once again as they let their lips and tongues intertwine to finalize their lovemaking bliss before drifting off to sleep.




Terry awoke the next morning still on the ink table as felt a tickle across his back. A strange aroma filled his nostrils as he stared at his lover holding a paint brush and a jar of red ink in his hand. Terry stared in the mirror and could see what appeared to be some intricate tribal lines that resemble interlocking hearts falling down his back.

“Shane, what are you doing?” giggled Terry.

“I’m finishing up the tattoo like you requested,” said Shane. “Temporary, of course. Henna ink. No pain and it washes off in a few days. I have to mark what is mine.”

“Wait, so you’re saying I’m your property now?” clucked Terry. “So you’re acknowledging the fact that we’re now together?”

“Absolutely babe,” smiled Shane. “I’m officially out of the closet. I’m sure we can work out the long distance thing if you take that job in New York.”

“Shane, I’m not taking the job!” replied Terry. “I’m game to stay here and make this work if you are! Besides Gargoyle Ink needs me especially when we have a temperamental owner and some employees who need some shaping up!”

“Absolutely babe,” answered Shane. “Whatever you want? But you do know you’ll be working some late…long…hard... nights with the boss, right?”




“It would be my pleasure to do make sure the job is done right,” teased Terry. “I love you Shane.”

“I love you Terry.”

They proved it to one another by sharing another passionate kiss. However, that quickly got interrupted when Greta walked in.

“Well it’s about fucking time!” she said. “So does that mean you guys are going to the whole gay marriage thing and adopt some kids from Africa?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP GRETA!” screamed Shane.

END.

Gaston

***By now you know that I have a recurring theme of erotic romance in my posts so when it came to write this piece, I was watching the film version of the musical of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. After hearing about a sequel he was doing titled Love Never Dies, I thought I would create a fictional story using the basis of my work on the author Gaston Leroux.




Paris, France 1910



Gaston Leroux grasped his pen as he thought of the words that flowed through his brain attempting to put his thoughts on paper. Nothing came. It should come so easily for a well known mystery writer like him especially for tonight was All Hallow’s Eve and the city of Paris bustled with excitement with masquerade galas and costume balls. He stared at the electric light bulb that illuminated his room. Inspiration had been a bitter disappointment very much like his life ever since he left Paris and the great opera house three years ago to live in London. He reinvented himself from being a great composer to a best selling mystery author and his readers could not wait for the next great work from him.



In his room, the shadows and light danced around him as they toyed with his features especially with the crescent shaped mask that he wore to hide his horrible disfigurement from birth. Even as a great song writer in the Paris Opera House, his peers looked upon him with disgust believing his cursed face would plague them with bad luck or worse. Now gathering his thoughts together, he outlined a plot for his next story. He just needed some inspiration. Footsteps tapped on the floor as he heard someone behind him come into his room.



“Monsieur Gaston,” said the voice. “It is late. You should put the pen down and get some rest. I am sure you will come up with something brilliant tomorrow.”



“I appreciate your concern Vincent,” Gaston addressed his friend. “However the mind cannot sleep when it is looking for a muse. Just a few more minutes.”



“You really should retire to bed Gaston,” recommended Vincent. “The most popular mystery writer in Paris needs his rest before your publisher meets with you tomorrow to discuss your next novel.”



“The most sought after author who ghostwrites his own work,” corrected Gaston. “May I remind you Vincent that I oblige you with the role of portraying me? You in return garner fame, attention from any female who crosses your path and even a hefty percentage of the profits of my novels as you claim my identity as your pseudo-name. Do not forget that!”



“You need not remind me Gaston!” clucked Vincent. “I only agreed upon this arrangement because I am your friend. Your only friend, may I remind you? It is time Gaston that you reveal yourself to the public! Your audience will be understanding of your plight and even sympathetic if they knew the truth about the enigmatic mystery writer. Give them the opportunity to see you instead of allowing yourself to be hidden away in this prison.”



“I SHALL NOT BE MADE INTO A CARNIVAL ATTRACTION!” he screamed.



Gaston pulled off the crescent mask to reveal his true form. His right side complimented his handsome features, chiseled Romanesque face, and angelic smile while the left reveal a grotesque disfigurement from birth. He quickly placed the mask back on to his face.



“Do you not see the truth Vincent?” he hissed. “I am to be mocked and gawked at for the rest of my life! Condemned as a hideous monster by those who know nothing about me or care even less! Used by parents as a morality tale to instill fear in their children as the monstrous phantom on All Hallow’s Eve! I will not be pitied nor will I allow them to abuse me in this manner!”



“I apologize Gaston,” replied Vincent. “I did not mean to upset you but it pains me to see my friend withdrawing from the world. You must learn to forgive and trust others. You might be surprise that human nature can surface with sympathy and compassion….



“GET OUT!” screamed Gaston. “I DO NOT WISH TO SPEAK OF THIS ANY LONGER! THIS IS THE ARRANGEMENT WE AGREED UPON! NOW LEAVE ME IN PEACE!”



Vincent backed out of the room as he watched Gaston claw at the wood of the desk with his fingers. He had not intention of upsetting his friend any further and made a quiet retreat. With the door shut, Gaston stared at the mirror as he attempted to process Vincent’s words. It had been too long that he shut himself away from the world yet he had no intention of breaking the cycle of isolation. A knock interrupted his thoughts and he rushed to answer to it. Anger still fueled him as he turned the knob.



“I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME IN PEACE VINCENT!” he shouted as he opened the door.



Hello Gaston,” greeted the familiar voice. “It is good to see you again.”



Standing in the doorway was a beautiful young woman. Dressed in an elegant hobble skirt and large brim hat, she smiled as her innocent eyes stared at him. Her dark curly hair fell around her shoulders as she waited for Gaston to say something.



“Lotte?” he finally spoke. “What are you doing here?”



“I heard you were in the city and I had to see you,” she whispered. “May I come in?”



Gaston gestured as Lotte entered the room. He peeked outside to see no one in the hallway, closed and locked the door. He stared at Lotte in the dimly lit room. Even as the brightness lit her face, she looked as beautiful as he once remembered her. It had been three years since he last saw her and the parting of their last meeting had been quite painful.



“You should not be here,” he told her. “Your husband, the Viscount Ondine is a powerful man. He will come looking for you.”



“I have left Rene,” she finally admitted. “I request a divorce.”



“But Lotte, your title? Your wealth? Your position as the Prima Donna soprano at the Paris Opera House?” he asked her. “Viscount Rene Ondine will take that away from you. You will be left with nothing!”



“That is true Gaston,” responded Lotte sadly. “But it is worth all the risk if I can be granted my freedom.”



“Your freedom?” he griped. “You made your choice when you left my bed for his! I molded you into developing that talented voice of yours at the opera house! You were once my muse to shape and mold you into the alluring siren you meant to be! How do you repay me? By running off and marrying the first nobleman that caught your eye?”



“No Gaston, it was not like that at all!” protested Lotte. “You must understand…”



“Oh I comprehend perfectly,” he continued. “You would not dare be seen with the vile beast of the opera house yet you had no qualms sharing my bed unless I could favor you into becoming a Prima Donna soprano! Tell me did you mock me among your fellow cast mates of seducing the pathetic phantom of the opera? It was all a game to you, was it not Lotte?”



“Please Gaston,” she cried. “Let me explain. I had no choice. Rene was jealous that you were the driving force behind the success of the Paris Opera House. As the enigmatic writer and composer, you garnered attention for the company. The Viscount hated you for that. More importantly, he despised you that you had me especially since he wanted me for himself!”



“Well you still went to him Lotte,” snapped Gaston. “I returned from a business trip to England to find that you had eloped with the Viscount Rene Ondine! You did not even have the decency inform me that you were capable of breaking my heart! You are his property now Lotte! I have no claim to you so whatever freedom you long for has nothing to do with me!”



“He threatened to kill you Gaston!” she wept. “If I did not go with him, he would employ people to ensure your death. He is a cruel and powerful man! I could not bear the thought of your senseless murder!”



“So the fallen opera singer confesses the truth?” snickered Gaston. “Or is this another ruse to make me sympathetic to your plight?”



“I speak from my heart Gaston!” Lotte wailed. “You may not believe this but I love you! It has always been you! When I discovered you had left the Paris Opera House, my heart heart sank! I never recovered from that day and I vowed I would search for you. Three years I have heard of a mystery writer living in Paris and I finally found the courage to seek you out!”



Shocked by her words, Gaston remained silent. Lotte advanced toward him slowly but he backed away.



“What is it you want?” he asked her.



“If I am to be found dead at the hands of the Viscount,” she told him. “I wish to be discovered in my lover’s arms.”


“Your innocent words no longer move me Lotte,” he said defiantly. “Please go.” He pointed toward the door.



“I am not leaving until I am convinced that you no longer love me,” she said standing up to the brutish man. “Gaston, look into my eyes and tell me that you do not want me.”



Gaston could not offer a response and turned his face away. This gave leverage for Lotte’s opportunity. She advanced toward him.



“Touch me Gaston,” she whispered.



“You would allow a demon to defile your flesh?” he spat. “A monster that causes you to gasp in horror.”



“You are no more a demon or a monster Gaston,” Lotte replied. “Just simply a man who deserves to be loved.”





She carefully removed the mask to gaze upon the disfigured half of his face. With gentle fingers, she touched each welt, each curve, and indentation of his personal shame blessing each horrible image with a loving kisses. Her lips felt soft as he reciprocated his own passion with hers. Their mouths met, tongues made contact, and the wetness of their lips found one another.



“Make love to me Gaston,” demanded Lotte holding his face in her hands.



She stood up, removed her brim hat, and directed him to remove the back buttons of her dress. Gaston did just that assisting her out of her hobble skirt, corsette, and undergarments. Bare, except for her stockings and lace boots, Lotte looked like an ethereal angel in the dim light of the room. She climbed into his bed, placed the sheet around her nakedness and beckoned him to come to her. Gaston quickly stripped off his suspenders, shirt, trousers, and long underwear before diving into bed with her. Lotte squealed in delight as he hit the mattress tossing her against the goose pillows. She wrapped her legs around his waist awaiting Gaston’s invitation.



“Are you sure you want to do this Lotte?” questioned Gaston a second time.



“Oh yes Gaston,” she moaned as she kissed him. “Be my lover.”



With quick hands, he stripped off her remaining stockings and lace boots tossing them to the side of the bed as he began caressing her neck and shoulders with soft kisses. Her creamy flesh tingled as she felt his wet tongue drew a path down her pink nipples and tender breasts each time he teased her with a pinch to each nub or a massage to their firmness. He turned her around to give attention to her back and that is when he noticed the purple bruises and faded scars on the swell of her spine.



“Good God!” he exclaimed. “The Viscount beats you! No wonder you wish to leave him!”



“He is a cruel man Gaston,” she whimpered through her tears. “Both in the bedroom and in public. I share no pleasure being with him. Please make me forget him.”



Gaston honored her request by kissing away each bruise on her body. His tongue felt like fire as he slicked his saliva down the curvature of the valley of her back to the forbidden opening of her derriere. Kneading the roundness of her bottom, he gave a playful tap which made Lotte yelp in surprise before being healed win a wash of his wet tongue. She could almost feel herself getting lost in this abyss of pleasure but it was only the beginning of Gaston’s prowess as a lover. Lifting her hips and spreading them wide, he teased her feminine curls of her womanly opening. Pushing her private lips aside, he inserted three fingers inside her wetness filling her aching need as she moaned in delight at his invasion.



“Mmmmm…Gaston…more…” she panted.



“Of course my love,” he replied. With fingers entertaining her womanly opening, he pushed a thumb on her feminine pearl making her gasp in response. He tortured her mercilessly as he substituted the eagerness of throbbing pearl with that of his strong hands with that of his moist tongue.



“You taste better than I remember,” he told her as he drank her special honey in.



Not one to let Gaston have all the pleasure, she moved herself up and kissed him again before playing with his strong chest and stomach. She moved her mouth down to find that sacred part of a man. The masculine part of him that she had missed the most. It lay flaccid. Twelve inches in length and two inches in girth crooking to the right of his thigh. She lowered her head and consumed him slowly taking him measure for measure into her wet mouth. Gaston moaned as her beautiful mouth made sweet drinking sounds as her lips puckered with each rhythm of his bucking hips.



“Siren, I can’t wait anymore!” he said with frustration. He grabbed her shoulders, tossed her against the bed, and allowed his hard shaft find the entrance of her feminine opening. Teasing her with the head of his phallus, he plunged into her fully as she clawed his back for balance. Lotte bit her lips as she washed herself in pleasure as entered and withdrew from her with each thrust of his virility. The intensity of the sensation had just been to overwhelming as her the walls of her femininity, the wetness of the friction, and the incredible hardness filled over and over again. She could feel her release as Gaston made one more push into her.



“Gaston…I love you!” she cried out as her climax erupted into a gusher along with his own. The liquid heat of their bodies melded together as he filled her with his own seed soaking the sheets with perspiration, sex, and desire. Gaston held close, kissed her fiercely more time and realized that she truly did love him.




He would not let her go this time….



Early morning came as a loud banging on the door awoke the two lovers in bed.



“LEROUX! I KNOW YOU HAVE MY WIFE IN THERE!” shouted the masculine voice.



“It is Rene!” said Lotte with fear in her eyes.



The two sprang from the bed to gather their clothes. Gaston got his shirt and trousers on while Lotte managed to slip on her undergarments. However it was too late as the enraged Viscount Rene Ondine kicked down the door holding his revolver toward the two lovers.



“YOU!” he hissed at Gaston. “You would have me cuckold with that THING!”



“Leave him alone!” Lotte shouted. She felt a hard blow to face bringing her down as the Viscount aimed the revolver toward her.



Gaston rushed toward him and wrestled for the pistol. The Viscount made a formidable adversary but Gaston proved a better fighter and knocked the weapon from his hand. However, the Viscount refused to be bettered by any man. Without warning, he pulled out a dagger and stabbed Gaston in the shoulder blade. Blood seeped as the mystery writer doubled over in pain. Lotte crawled to him as the Viscount laughed, grabbed the revolver and prepared to fire.



A gunshot rang out. Smoke filled the room as the smell of death permeated the atmosphere. However Gaston and Lotte were not the victims. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood was Viscount Rene Ondine dead. His murderer Vincent, the man Gaston ghostwrote his novels for and his friend. Vincent held the smoking gun in his hand as he looked toward the two lovers.



“Are you two all right?” he asked them. “I saw the Viscount rush in so I wanted to make sure you were safe Gaston.”



“You murdered the Viscount!” informed Gaston. “He’s a powerful man. The police will arrest us all!”



“Do not worry my friend,” assured Vincent. “I have planned this out. You and Lotte will leave here. I have prepared letters explaining a business dispute had gone awry between the Viscount and Gaston Leroux. The police will believe an argument broke out causing the accidental death of the Viscount. Since the public does not know what the real Gaston Leroux looks like, they will assume it is me. Your ghostwriting of your mystery novels has enabled me to impersonate you and therefore allows me to protect you. You will take my identity as a soldier of fortune in the Parisan army under the name Vincent Carrere and you were disfigured after serving in a battle during the civil war in ........Cairo. Lotte, the Viscount had no heirs or next of kin so his fortune will be inherited by his widow. You and Gaston are free to marry and be together.”



“Vincent, I cannot ask this of you,” commented Gaston. “Why would you go to prison for me?”



“I once told you that human nature can learn to be sympathetic and compassionate,” explained Vincent. “But we also have the ability to love as well. I do this for you not because I am your friend but because I love you. I never shied way from your disfigurement because I knew how truly beautiful you were inside. More handsome than you ever realize Gaston. I only wished you could love me in the way a man could love another man! Yet I realize that you cannot force what the heart wants and this is why I willingly do this. Please take care of him Lotte.”



“I…will…” stammered Lotte in shock.



“Promise me you will finish your last novel Gaston. The world needs your story. With that, I prove my undying love for you by giving up my life!” continued Vincent. “The police will find in the letters left here two bodies of a fight that ended in violence. Forgive me, my friend.”



“VINCENT NOOOOO!” screamed Gaston.



It was too late for Vincent had put his pistol to his head and pulled the trigger.



Ten months later 1910



Parisian high society welcomed the debut of the Viscountess Lotte and her new husband, wounded soldier of fortune named Vincent Carrere. They also the celebrated the greatest mystery novel of the year by a scandalous author who died under mysterious circumstances by the name of Gaston Leroux. The title of the novel? The Phantom of the Opera.


End.

Shalimar and Sinjin

*** I wrote this as a part of a forbidden love topic. I'm intrigued by exotic locations and international cultures. I am quite happy how this turned out!




Arabia 1901


I remember her. Her name was Shalimar with long tresses the color of a midnight raven and eyes of the deepest lake of an oasis. One would only look into her gaze to swim the deepest fathoms of an ocean, cross the sandstorms of the desert, and pledge their fealty to her beauty. She was innocence and temptation. She was my vengeance and my redemption. More significantly, she was mine in mind, body, and soul. And I loved her.

We came from a land where the Earth seduced the sky bearing from their loins the small nation known as Arikahs. It is a story told to me by my mother Samira, the favorite concubine and first wife of my father King Rafir Abdul Zimraan, who was the first cousin of the Sultan Abdul Hamid II, current ruler of the Ottoman Empire. My father had ten wives, each whom he cherished but loved my mother the most. I, Prince Sinjin, his first born son was to inherit his throne as destined by the eternal Allah, Himself. My father prepared me well, educating me in the laws of Islamic government, economy, and social importance and I, in turn, swore my allegiance to him and to our people of Arikahs in a vow of peace and prosperity as part of my legacy. Yet such a promise I could not keep. King Rafir and my mother met with an unfortunate accident and his brother, my uncle, Quadir Abdul Zimraan laid siege to the throne plunging our nation into years of civil wars, border conflicts, and social unrest. Dark days loomed ahead as Arikahs became a police state fraught with conspiracies to murder Quadir at the hands of rebels and peasant infidels.

Even my father’s harem had fallen prey to Quadir’s squandering of power. The ten wives my King Rafir honored and protected increased to seventy in his personal harem. Many of the local women and female prisoners of war were enslaved and subjected to my uncle’s cruelty as they were forced into a life of sexual servitude against their will. Any opposition was met with punishment such as being sold to a local brothel, bartered as chattel to another sheik for arms, or something far worse than the latter which was death. From this degradation arose the most precious treasure. Shalimar.

Shalimar. She was my uncle’s favorite concubine from his harem. Her mother had been English which accounts for her eyes being the deepest color of the desert lakes. While in Cairo, Shalimar’s mother had been abducted by slave traders and sold to a brothel. My uncle found her and offered her a position as his premiere mistress in his harem to which she accepted. She eventually died in childbirth with the birth of her only daughter and my uncle took the infant grooming the child to take her mother’s place. It was those years that I came to know and love Shalimar.

We sat at dinner as my uncle regaled tales of his armies squelching a recent peasant revolt. The harem feigned interest as he embellished his anecdotes placing himself in the middle of the story as some great warrior ready to fight and battle his foes.

“I stood upon the front gates of Arikahs. I alone, with no guards to protect me,” he boasted. “With my scimitar in hand, I struck down my enemies. I was aided by the vision of Muhammad who offered me the guidance of Allah to cast down these infidels as declared by the Sunni!”


A collective yawn wove threw the harem. I could sense the anger in my uncle’s eyes as he began to open his mouth to speak. Usually when this occurs, he severely punishes one of the women of his harem in the most brutal of fashions. Rumors of Quadir’s cruelty became legendary among the palace walls. It has been said that his sudden need to keep a secret garden at the back of the palace is, in truth, to mask the unmarked graves of the people he had ordered killed. Such a statement was not to be beneath him. My uncle’s face turned red as his anger rose but by the grace of Allah, Quadir’s palace eunuch Sharif interjected.

“Your majesty,” said Sharif. “Perhaps you would like to be entertained by Shalimar’s dance.”

The suggestion calmed my uncle a bit and set him on a better mood. Sharif clapped his hands for the music to begin as Shalimar entered the room. Covered entirely by her dark abayah and asha, except for her piercing liquid eyes, she started to sway to the music. King Quadir grew entranced as he observed her. The music swelled as she donned off her cloak to reveal her transparent costume of multi-colored veils covering her modesty with very little but a sash decorated with gold coins and metallic undergarments. She pushed her hips forward, rocking her belly from side to side leaning in closer to Quadir keeping him hypnotized for that moment. Her raven hair swirled around her wild and free emancipating herself from the confines of Arabic traditions and submitting herself to untamed passions. I watched in awe of her as she glided across the room. From the strength of her arch foot to the bend of her strong legs, she twisted and contorted her arms as the transparent veils teased her audience with a glimpse of her bare form then quickly concealed it away from everyone. Her head bent down at that moment as she directed her vision toward me. Oblivious to her intentions, I swore under Allah’s breath that I should not receive her invitation but it would take the eunuch Sharif to offer me reassurance.

“Shalimar wishes to see you in the secret bed chamber above the palace,” he whispered in my ear. “Do not keep her waiting Prince Sinjin.”

I said nothing as Shalimar finished her dance. My uncle rose up to applaud her as everyone in turn did the same. She smiled at the acceptance of their approval and slightly looked at me. I turned away not to return her gaze. I could not accept such a proposal to meet. I dare not. I could not. My body and heart took leave of my senses and I submitted to temptation. Forgive me Oh Great Allah for Man is weak!

Midnight covered the palace in blanket of sleep. King Quadir spent the night with three of his concubines leaving Shalimar in peace. I snuck out of my bedchamber, made my way past the guards, and found the secret room above the palace roof. It had been my father’s private chamber where he spent many evenings with my mother. Only I had known of its location but somehow Shalimar had known of its existence as well. I entered the room. It was empty, dusty, and dark. I scanned the area but no sign of her. I sat at the window sill to stare at the moon. I began reciting several suras from the Qur’an as her small footsteps became recognizable.


She stood in the darkness. Her dark abayah covering her but her face visible in the moonlight as it reflected off the deep pools of her eyes. In the dark she looked like a temptress but to me she appeared as a malak. An angel. She approached me slowly.


“Prince Sinjin, I knew you would come,” she said.


“How do you know about this room?” I asked her. “Even my uncle knows nothing of this place.”

“I discovered it by accident while exploring the palace,” replied Shalimar. “It became my personal sanctuary away from King Quadir and his lustful hands. It is my only haven.”

“I see you have little regard for Quadir,” I pointed out.


“Don’t you?” she asked. “Look what has he done to Arikahs! Civil wars. Impoverishing the kingdom’s economy. Establishing a police state and promoting a corrupt government. Unlike your father King Rafir who was a just and kind man, Quafir is quite the opposite ruling with fear. It will be only a matter of time before he runs this country to the ground. Have you no contempt for the man who has taken your legacy away from you my prince!”


“It’s true,” I answered. “Quadir is a powerful man. I loathe the man! I believe he orchestrated an accident to befall my parents so he could claim the throne. He rules through fear and will even murder those that oppose him. I welcome the day that infidels and rebels will be victorious in overthrowing him.”


“The sentiment is felt throughout this palace as well Prince Sinjin,” said Shalimar. “The people of Arikahs serve no loyalty to him and would gladly see him disposed of. I personally would enjoy bearing witness to his death for what he has done to me.”


“Has his cruelty been as brutal as they say?” I dared asked of her though I should not have. She said nothing but looked me with sadness as pools of tears flooded her eyes. “I apologize Shalimar. I do not wish to speak of your memories so painful.”


“No…I must speak of them,” she began. “To understand my hatred of the man, you must first hear the truth! Quadir is more than just my owner. He is my father!”


My eyes widened in shock. Such a revelation had dishonored the moral compass of the Qur’an. King Quadir had much to answer for in the afterlife.


“If this is true,” I stated. “Then by birth, we are cousins. But how? Quadir had made you his favored concubine. This breeds of incest.”


“It is true,” explained Shalimar. “As you know Prince Sinjin, my mother was English when she was sold into a brothel by Cairo slave traders. My father Quadir found her, forced himself on her, and got her with child. Quadir never believed himself to be the father but he was. After he enslaved her as a concubine, he eventually grew tired of her and poisoned her. This made her give birth too early causing her to die during labor when I was born. It was Sharif who would raise me as his daughter and Quadir to force me into his harem at the age of twelve.”


“But you were merely a child to be given to a harem so young,” I commented in utter disbelief. “The females have to be at least eighteen in our kingdom to be entered in such a union. It is illegal and immoral in our laws.”


“Quadir cares nothing for morality or laws,” she spat. “He defiled me at age twelve and has continued do so even though we are of the same blood. I wish for Allah to strike him down more than anything!”


Tears filled her eyes as the moon illuminated face. I embraced her close as I held her tight. I would not let her go. I heard the anguish of her pain as a puddle of cries soaked my dishdasha while I stroked her raven hair to comfort her. How could such a man do such a thing? To his own daughter no less. I looked at her innocent face as she looked at me. I could not turn away. This girl whom I loved since my childhood needed me as I required the same of her. I bent down to kiss her as she responded with the same desire I had. She broke away her lips away from mine.


“Prince Sinjin, please be the first man I allow to take my body,” she pleaded. “I willing accept you as my lover.”



Shalimar’s proposal should have appalled me but I looked into those watery pools to know she was playing a woman’s game. Both of us stood at a crossroad allowing our emotions to rule our thoughts, our hearts over our minds, and desires outweighing our conscience. Would the punishment be well worth the risk? Certainly.



“Will you accept Sinjin?” she asked of me again.






She dropped her abayah to the floor, letting the dark garment crumple to her feet, and revealed that she wore nothing underneath. Her body looked radiant as I perused her beautiful breasts, dark areolas, and curve of her hips in the darkness. A henna tattoo crisscrossed around her waist, around her flat stomach, up to the side of her arms where it combined to form a floral design. My eyes moved down to see that she had shaven her womanly area as well as her underarms as a symbol of the harem. Only sultans and kings gained the privilege of this knowledge during intimate encounters with their concubines.






Shalimar stepped forward and began to undo the buttons on my dishdasha slipping the robe from my chest. Her nimble hands stroked my bare chest as she found the grooves of my body as she laid a finger around the flatness of my belly to the roundness of my masculine nub. She moved in closer as I embraced her softness inhaling her scent forever remembering this moment. The aroma of jasmine and oranges filled the room as I grew intoxicated by her fragrance.



“I ask again my prince. Will you be my lover?” inquired Shalimar as her face met mine.



I took her lips into mine as I said the words she wanted to hear. “Yes beloved. I am yours!” She smiled as she assisted me with discarding the rest of my dishdasha to the floor. Our bare bodies connected feeling the warmth of one another as fingers, arms, and hands explored the exposed flesh as our tongues and lips met with such feverish anticipation.





I scooped her up in her arms to which she made a silent giggle as I carefully laid her on the bed to bear witness to her beauty. Not content with simply being submissive to her lover, she ordered me on my back as she trailed a path of kisses down my stomach to that masculine part of me with her lips and tongue.



“My oh my Sinjin,” she teased. “You have a rather large sword of a warrior. Such a sword is built for need, to protect its bearer, and for some to pierce with pleasure.”



She acknowledged this perspective when she took my shaft into her mouth swallowing my sword to the full hilt before withdrawing with every breath. Her lips felt warm, sleek, and wet to the touch as she repeating the process over and over again watching me with innocent eyes she kept me submissive to her dominant will. My body gave in to the intensity of her mouth as I cried out each time her tongue caressed the male part of me and teased me mercilessly.



Releasing her lips from me, she informed me to lie on my stomach as she massaged my back with her miraculously hands. Her fingers kneaded into the arch of shoulder blades to the groove of my spine as I became relaxed to her attention of me. Without warning, she let out a gasp.



“You have scars Sinjin!” she exclaimed. “Those bear the markings of a whip. Did Quadir do this to you?”



“Yes Shalimar,” I sighed. “Quadir’s cruelty shows no bounds. Even as I child I defied him and he made sure I knew who claimed the throne by administering daily lashings. In time, the wounds healed but my contempt for the man shows no bounds. I learned to feel nothing in the end.”



“And now?” Shalimar questioned with sadness in her eyes. “Has your heart now become stone?”



“Stone eventually crumbles when the heart is freely given to right person,” I answered. “And my heart I give to you Shalimar. I have loved you since I was child. Now and for eternity.”



“By the grace of Allah I have felt the same,” she told me with eyes filled with such joy. “You, my cousin, I pledge my love, my body, and my soul now and until we meet in Paradise.” She reciprocated her feelings with an embrace as she held on to me tightly. I gently set down back on to the bed and gave her gentle kisses to appease her.



“Now my beloved,” I said. “It is my turn to pleasure you.” I lifted her thighs to place them on my shoulders as I found that secret place between her legs. Spreading her feminine folds with my fingers, I caressed the precious pearl with my thumb as my hand made my way into her wetness. Hungry for her sweet nectar, I replaced my hand with mouth as I tasted her honey drinking every last drop as her fingers twirled the dark locks of my hair as my mouth filled with her liquid quenching my dry thirst for her womanly heat

.



“Ohhhh Sinjin….please…more…” begged Shalimar as I continued to consume her.



The arching need between my legs could not wait so I spread her thighs wider with my hands and mounted her. My shaft found that searing moistness as our union forever sealed our Fates. I danced with her in rhythm as he met me hip to hip, movement for movement, and pleasure for pleasure as our bodies rode a wave of ecstasy. Shalimar’s femininity accommodated herself to my awaiting girth as our bodies increased with each motion.



“Sinjin…ohhh…” she groaned as her hands found the hard structure of my masculine bottom as she held herself in place as I plunged deeper, faster, and harder into her. Her legs fastened themselves around my waist as I made my way into her entrance with the endurance of a wild animal. I needed her as I always needed her. This moment was no exception.






My hips bucked as I picked her up off the bed with my hard shaft still plunged deep inside her. I stood tall carrying the weight of her as I allowed Shalimar to ride my masculinity with her own pace and speed of her choosing. Her arms held on to me steadfast as her body galloped up and down my male saddle as I had become her mare and she the rider. The intensity rocked my loins as I felt myself ready to spill my seed.



“Shalimar…how…would you like…me to finish?” I panted.



“Give me your seed Sinjin…I want all of you…Now!” she declared.



I cried out as my seed erupted inside her filling her as remnants of what was remaining dripped to the floor. Shalimar in turn felt a release of her own pleasure as her nectar combined with mine created a mixture of pleasure and sex in the room. We both collapsed on the bed, finishing our union with tender kisses, and a romantic embrace…



We were awoken by a frightening scream as the familiar voice bellowed in the room.



“HOW DARE YOU?” screeched Quadir. “SINJIN AND SHALIMAR! YOU HAVE DISHONORED YOUR KING WITH YOUR BETRAYAL! GUARDS SEIZE THEM!”



Shalimar and I attempted to gather our clothing and dress quickly before a pair of palace guards dragged us from the bed. A pair of fists struck me to the stomach causing me to collapse to the ground. Gasping for air, I watched helplessly as Quadir slapped Shalimar across the face.



“Don’t touch her!” I pleaded. “The blames lies with me. I seduced her!”



“SHE’S NO BETTER THAN A COMMON WHORE!” hissed my uncle. “JUST LIKE HER MOTHER! THAT ENGLISH HARLOT I ALLOWED IN MY PALACE!”



“You shall not speak of my mother in that manner!” spat Shalimar. “You raped her, got her with child, forced her into your harem, and eventually poisoned her!”



“SILENCE!” ordered Quadir as he slapped her again. “I WILL NOT BE MADE A FOOL BY YOUR LIES!”



“As witnessed by the Eternal Allah, I speak the truth!” she continued. “I no longer fear your wrath! You fathered a child with my mother. The very child which would become me! You denied me as your daughter, and then when I became twelve forced me into your harem as your personal whore! It is true! I am your daughter. Flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood! You defiled me and disgraced the teachings of the Qur’an. May Allah strike you dead where you stand!”



“ENOUGH! YOU TWO HAVE BEEN PLOTTING AGAINST ME WITH LIES! YOU BROKE THE LAWS OF TREASON, I SENTENCE YOU TO DEATH BY FIRING SQUAD UPON THE NOON SUN TOMORROW!” announce Quadir. “GUARD TAKE THEM AWAY!” Nothing further was said as Shalimar and I were dragged away to meet our Fates…



Town Square of Arikahs, Noon 1901



A certain melancholy surrounded the atmosphere. The townspeople gathered to watch in horror at the live execution. My hands were bound behind my back as I felt another pair of hands touching mine, also bound with rope. I instantly knew it was Shalimar.



“I am sorry I could not protect you,” I told her as I tried to remember her aroma one more time.



“Do not lay blame on yourself my prince,” she reassured. “If I am to die, I am dying without shame. We are going to into the afterlife with honor. Our innocence preserved.”



“I agree beloved,” I told her.



“Sinjin, promise me one thing?” requested Shalimar.


“What is it?” I asked.


“In Paradise, at the moment of Houri, when you are promised your seventy two virgins that you will still love me for now and eternity?” she begged.


“I made this vow of love for you Shalimar that I shall have no other but you,” I reassured her. “I love you Shalimar.”


“I love you too Sinjin,” she responded.


These were last words said as King Quadir ordered his guards to open fire with their rifles as a hail of bullets descended upon us. Blood splattered across the streets of the town square as anguished cries could be heard in the nation of Arikahs…


I first saw darkness. Silence. Peace. Then the light guided my path as images illuminated around me from the Heavens. I looked down to the Earth. The palace of Arikahs burning to the ground. Chaos. Infidels, peasants, rebels, foreign enemies banding together to lay siege on the kingdom. The eunuch Sharif leading the rebellion again the king. My uncle, King Quadir, brutally tortured and executed by his enemies. His soul forever damned in the fiery pits of Hell. The images transform into a brilliant light. A figure approaches. So radiant. So beautiful. A malak. An angel.






He speaks.



“What do you wish for in ....Paradise?” the holy voice asks. “Ask you shall receive.”


“To be with my beloved for forever and eternity,” I tell Him.


“Granted,” replies the voice.


The light grows brighter. I feel a pair of arms embracing me. Soft hands. Feminine. I inhale the familiar scent. Jasmine and oranges. Her touch is familiar. It feels of eternal love. It is my Shalimar. Now and forever.


End

LOLerotica

***I have a crazy sense of humor and this is one of my favorite writes where I did a LOLerotica piece. Hope you enjoy it!



DEBBIE DOES DILLARDS




Debbie could not wait. She had been building the anticipation within her for several weeks now. Even her boyfriend Paul supported her decision to be with another woman. Debbie counted the days on the calendar until she would be reunited with her special friend Tanya. Tanya had promised her that she would give her immense pleasure in ways Debbie could never dream of. At that moment, Debbie realized she had found the one. The one who would be gentle with her. The one who would take her to places she once believed was unattainable. The one could make her reach climax and make her toes curl. Debbie prepared herself with her meeting with Tanya and she made a checklist of things she needed before she would see her. Debbie appreciated Paul’s attitude through all this. It gave her a warm feeling inside that Paul supported her choices and would be willing to accompany her on this exciting event. Debbie rewarded Paul by allowing him to watch and witness every waking moment of this experience. Hell, he could even capture pictures on his cell phone if he wanted too. It was the least she could do by dragging him along as he got a chance of seeing two women together. Debbie made a nervous sigh as she got ready.


Checking herself in the full length mirror one more time, she carefully chose the prettiest undergarments in her closet. She decided on a matching pair of lacy bra and panties. She slipped them on and felt the wonderful softness against her bare skin. She added the garter belts just for little bit of naughtiness. Deep down she knew Tanya would appreciate it. The lingerie accentuated her best curves and she wiggled into a sexy spaghetti strapped number complete with high heels and accessories to match. She wore a bright red shade of lipstick so that her lips appeared fuller and she curled her lashes so that Tanya would be mesmerized by her beauty. Debbie took one last look in the mirror and satisfied with her work grabbed her handbag and went out door with Paul.


They drove to Dillard’s Department Store as Debbie and Paul made their way past the perfume girls spraying scents like Obsession and Passion. Right now, the only passion that Debbie desired involved Tanya. They made their way through the throngs of customers until they found her. Tanya. An exotic beauty with long legs, a gorgeous body, and wearing a tight skirt that showed off her best assets. Tanya looked up from what she had been doing and recognized the couple coming toward her. She greeted Debbie with a hug and a kiss.



“Debbie! I’m so glad you’re here!” said Tanya.







“Tanya! I have been fantasizing about you for weeks!” answered Debbie.







“Well I certainly shouldn't keep you waiting.”







“Please don’t. I have been hoping for this moment and I don’t think I can wait any longer.”







“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel really special.”







“I’m sure you will.”







“Let's get started. I’ll be right back. I have a very pleasurable surprise for you Debbie. Something to make you feel like a natural woman!”







Debbie and Paul sat down in some chairs nearby as they waited for Tanya to return. Debbie constantly crossed and uncrossed her legs giving the lonely male customers a peep show by a sight of her garter belt or a flash of a leg. She enjoyed being watched and Paul loved that many men in the store desired her. The blood in his groin began to circulate as he fantasized about Debbie being with other men. Debbie’s body shivered with nervous energy guessing what Tanya’s pleasurable surprise might be. Already her nipples hardened underneath her lacy bra as mind raced with alluring images that she almost did not notice Tanya coming toward her carrying a box.







“Here’s your surprise Debbie!” Tanya smiled as she opened the container.







Inside Debbie stared at its magnificence. It was sleek, huge and gentle to the touch. Across its body from beginning to end displayed its hard pointed sharpness all pink and bright with an enormous width to it. Surely, just by looking at it, there was no way that it could fit inside Debbie but she was woman enough to try. Could it? Would it fit? Size does matter after all.




“Stuart Weitzman pink patent leather open peep toe stiletto pump in size 13!” Tanya finally said. “Do you think you can handle it?”




“Baby, I can handle anything,” Debbie purred as she slid it on her foot.


Immediately, a jolt of electricity surged through her body as it caressed her bare skin and move along her spine and at the back of her neck. She felt light as a feather as it coursed through her body. The current brought an incredible ripple of shockwaves as her body surrendered to the temptation of it.







“Mmmmmm. Tanya keep going. Don’t stop!” Debbie demanded.







“You wanted it real bad Debbie so I’m going to give it you real good!” smiled Tanya.







“Oooooo Tanya. Yes! That's how I want it!”







“Honey, that’s just the foreplay. It going to get even better. I still owe you a kiss!”







"Oooooo Tanya! Don't tease me! Kiss me already!"







Tanya retired once again to the back as Debbie allowed her body to cream in the Stuart Weitzmans. The bulge in Paul’s pants started to increase as he watched his girlfriend adjust her garter belt as she twirled around in the stilettos. He loved being a voyeur and enjoyed watching Debbie let go of her inhibitions. This really turned him on. Tanya came back out with a different box.







“Like I said I want to make you feel real good. Now for your special kiss from me!”







“Mmmmm Tanya. Yes please.”







“Manolo Blahniks black ballet flats! This style is called The Kiss."







“Ooooooo Tanya! That feels sooooo good! I finally have been kissed by a girl and I like it!”







"Now let me stretch it out for you so that it fits nice and tight! Yes that's it! Slide it in with those folds! Slide it in!"




"Mmmmmm Tanya! This is amazing!"




Immediately, the electrical surge flowed right threw her teasing her skin and causing her to flush in embarrassment. Already beads of sweat began to form around her forehead, her back and on her stomach as goosebumps started to show on her skin. Tanya was really working her good and she refused to let go of this emotion. Meanwhile Paul hid his huge erection with the Stuart Weitzman box as he watched the exchange between Debbie and Tanya. It felt like heaven.







“Debbie you’re feeling really good but I don’t think quite you’re full yet!”







“Fill me up Tanya! Fill me up!”







“You’re one greedy woman! Well then, how about if you take on two of them!”







“No Tanya! Not two! It won’t possible work! I'm not sure I can handle it!”




“Oh yes! You’re going to try on two for size and like it!”



At this point, the sensation had been too much. Two at the same time? She could not possibly handle it but she had too since she got herself in this predicament and now she had to endure it. The perspiration dripped through her skin as she felt the electric heat ran through her teasing her nipples and stroking her breasts with tremendous fervor. Her clit quivered with delight as she felt herself open up to this feeling of euphoria that Tanya kept putting her through. Paul silently jizzed in his jockey shorts as he kept watching Debbie writhe in pleasure but once again made sure that the Stuart Weitzman boxed kept him covered from exhibiting his wet spot.







“Jimmy Choo. Sandalwood color. I present the open toe wedge and the strappy espadrille!”







“OOOOOOOOOH Tanya! No more! I can’t take anymore!”







“Just one more! Come on you know you want it!”







“I can’t hold on much longer. I’m almost there!”







“Baby I’m going to take you there! You like being a bad girl?”







“Mmmmmmm. Yes I like being a bad girl!”







“Well bad girls need to be put in bondage!”







“Yes bondage me Tanya! Bondage me! Ooooooh! I’m a bad girl!”







Tanya made a quick dash in and out and returned with a final black and silver box. Debbie could instantly feel her release even before she opened the box.







“Debbie! Let me present to you the limited edition Dolce and Gabbana gold gladiator sandals called The Bondage!”



“YES! YES! OH GOD! YES!”


Debbie immediately soaked her Victoria Secret panties as soon as Tanya put her in bondage. She took a minute to regain her composure as she did a walk of shame to fetch her American Express card from her purse while Paul bathed in an afterglow moment. Tanya carried her five purchases to the register.







“Debbie that will be $8362.74.” Tanya state and swiped her credit card. “I’m sorry Debbie you card is maxed out!”




Debbie's amazing bliss came to a screeching halt. She felt empty, lonely, used, and unsatisfied.



End.

Fan Fiction

***This the first erotica piece I ever did that was part of a fan fiction Yaoi inspired manga/film called Ai No Kusabi. What I enjoyed about the plot was that it incorporated themes of political corruption, socio-economic issues, and gender roles set against a love story struggling against political turmoil and dictatorship. Read the The Story first to get a insight of the background.


The Story: Set in a dystopian future, the humans of the planet Amoi created a master supercomputer called Jupiter to help their lives easier and make them more technologically advanced. However, Jupiter's artificial intelligence realizes humans cannot be trusted to govern themselves and uses its power to overpower and control humanity. (Think of movies like The Terminator and The Matrix.) The humans rebel and try to overthrow Jupiter but in the end the supercomputer wins and wipes the majority of the human race. From the ashes of this apocalypse, Jupiter creates an elite society of wealthy humans who join its side and any surviving rebels are forced into enslavement and work under horrible condtions in the slums of the ruined city of Ceres. To ensure that no insurgence ever occurs, Jupiter sterilizes the vast population by diminshing the females who might give birth to any future rebels. Those that are born are born naturally in Ceres are referred to as Mongrels identified by their dark hair and quickly orphaned or forced to work in one of Jupiter's work camps. Jupiter ensures it's prosperity by genetically creating emotionless generals called Blondies, named after their hair color, thus establishing a social order based upon hair color to distinguish between the caste systems in a dictatorship society. Living among the elite in high rise floating cities like Tanagura and Midas, the Blondies enforce the rules of Jupiter and eraticate anyone who stands in their way. One of the most common practices is a form of sexual slavery where elites purchase Mongrels as pets and use them in any way shape or form. Though Blondies can purchase a pet, they are expected not to engage in any sexual contact with them as to prevent any emotional connection they might have. One such Blondie, Iason Mink, breaks that cardinal rule and purchases a pet name Riki who sells his body to save his gang of Mongrel thieves from being hunted down. This is where our story begins....

AI NO KUSABI


The booming crash of thunder could be heard from the echoing city of Midas as a downpour of rain began making pitter patter sounds across the concrete of the penthouse suite. From the huge window, I looked down at its residents, my face pressed against the cold, foggy glass wondering if the other members of my gang inquired about my whereabouts. I placed the palm of my hand against the glass as my fingers made a white frosted streak down my reflection. I leaned my forehead even closer to the window pane thinking about how I came to this situation that I did hear my Master come in.




“Riki?”




The voice came from him. Iason Mink. A Blondie elite and Amoi political leader. Dressed in his regal uniform, Iason looked the part of Jupiter’s favorite lackey, one of many clones the super computer created to do his dirty work. Iason was no different than any other genetic creation that Jupiter brought to life in a test tube and made into its personal general to ensure that mankind would be controlled and dominated. Chiseled, fair haired, muscular and intelligent he represented everything us humans despised about the elite. The very same ones who destroyed our society, diminished our race, and eliminated any hope of utopian world. My eyes burned with inner rage at what he turned me into as his personal slave. His pet. Something to toyed with and thrown away. I had become his property and him my Master.






“You seem rather glib,” Iason smirked as he sat down to stare at me. “I hope I didn’t distract you from your petty theft with friends.”






I turned my head away as I said nothing. I despised the way he made it seem he was doing me a favor of making me his pet. Once again, Iason had searched me out in the slums of Ceres where my gang prepared to steal an elite's car to sell its parts on the Black Market. During the altercation with another rival gang, I became outnumbered and got beaten unconscious. Iason rescued me, or so he claims, and took me to the floating city of Midas to heal me. If wanted me to feel grateful, I wasn’t.



“How did you find me?” I inquired with my fists clenched.




“Your ring,” said Iason pointing to my crotch. “It’s a homing beacon for any pet. It’s allows any Master know where their property is at any time should they decide to run away.”



The ring in question was the device Iason had me outfitted with around my penis. Only a Master could place it on their pet or remove at will. Any attempt to take it off would cause bodily injury or even death to its wearer so very few even tried to accomplish this feat. With this revelation now surfaced it only made me more aware that I had been now reduced to being nothing more than chattel to my Master. Damn him!





“Don’t act surprised,” grimaced Iason sipped a glass of champagne as he explained this to me. “I was not going to let my personal property get damaged after I paid a hefty price for it.”






“I thought you gave me permission to come and go as I pleased?” I responded lifting my eyes to meet his.






“I did. But not your freedom. Be aware that you are still my pet and still belong to me. If I request for you, I expect you to come to me. That is our arrangement and what I expect from you.”






I could not deny this fact. Unlike other pets that are used and discarded by their Masters, Iason released the reins of my leash as to provide me some semblance of emancipation or control over my life. However, I could ever forgive him for making me his personal pet.






“Now Riki I have had a long day and need some attention from my pet. Please prepare yourself.”





I entered Iason's dressing room and found my pet garments. Leather harness. Leather thong. Neck and wrist manacles. I undressed, showered, put on the attire and stepped out to meet my Master. Iason seemed pleased with my appearance and approached me. Locking the chains that hook to my wrist and neck, he had me kneeling on the floor to face him.



“What would you like me to do Master Iason?” I gritted through my teeth with eyes glaring down at the marble floor beneath me.




Iason unbuttoned his pants to release his straining shaft that had been trapped in his trousers all day. Erect and at full attention, he began to stroke himself as he pulled my neck collar toward him. It propelled me forward as I crawled closer to his awaiting shaft that ached to be obeyed.





I swirled my tongue against the hard tip of him as I stroked the head of it which seemed to please him as he laid his head back. I continued to work my way down suckling the right sack of his scrotum and allowing it to pop in out of my mouth and switching sides to the left side as Iason’s fingers played with the strands of my dark hair. I finished with pleasing him in his shaft’s underbelly and began to lick up to the tip once more and repeating the process with my tongue which Iason responded with a silent grunt of pleasure. But I had not finished yet as I ended the procedure with the final taste of him by inhaling his entire shaft in my mouth. Iason bucked his bare hips with each rhythm as I worked his hardness with the sensation of my deep throat and hot breath under a cover of wet saliva.




“Enough!” Iason ordered as he roughly yanked my neck collar forcing me to the tile floor. I turned my head away not willing to face him. I refused to show weakness no matter how he degraded me and I never failed in that effort. I would not begin now.




Iason grabbed my wrist manacle and tugged me forward forcing toward the back of the wall of the penthouse suite. His face moved closed to mine as we stared at one another as I inhaled the closeness of his masculine scent.






“Riki, do you know why decided to purchase you as my pet?” asked Iason pinning my wrists against the wall.





“No,” I answered unsure of what his intentions were.





He leaned in close to me and caressed my neck. His lips felt soft as a shot of electric heat surged through me. I hated how my body responded to his closeness but I could not do anything about the situation. He whispered in ear as his blonde hair stroked my check gently.



Iason placed his hand down my leather thong and he began to massage my groin and carefully removing the ring from my penis with his strong fingers. My body betrayed me even further as I ached with immense pleasure to his touch. I turned to face him with anger in my eyes.







“Because I knew you were much stronger than any submissive pet I have had. You don’t cower to me. I loathe submission. It bores me. You are different than any Mongrel slave. You intrigue me.”






Iason placed his hand down my leather thong and he began to massage my groin and carefully removing the ring from my penis with his strong fingers. My body betrayed me even further as I ached with immense pleasure to his touch. I turned to face him with anger in my eyes.


“I may be different than any Mongrel slave that you’ve had Iason! But remember I am Mongrel nonetheless and proud! Born and bred to a human mother and father! Your kind Blondie wouldn’t know anything about that since our great supercomputer dictator Jupiter created you from a test tube! You have no compassion! You have no human feeling! You’re simply a slave like me! The only thing is that I accept what I am! Can you?”






My words must have struck a chord with Iason whose face changed to one of anger. He suddenly pulled the chains of my manacles rougher than before and dragged me to his sleeping quarters. Quickly stripping of my pet attire, he pushed me on to the bed. He too also undressed and began to come toward me. My apprehensiveness of what Iason might be capable of did give me a sense of fear but I would not allow him the privilege of taking away my courage. Iason stopped himself to look at me and it for first time I noticed something different in him. Perhaps it the light of the reflecting moon at night but I finally noticed how beautiful he looked. With the face of an angel and the body of a god, Iason looked so virile and masculine but in reality I knew he had the temperament of a demon incarnate.




“It looks like I need to provide another lesson to my pet,” said Iason as he approached me.






Removing the manacles from my neck and wrist, he ordered me to stay where I was and went to the nearby cabinet to remove several lotions. Unscrewing the bottle cap off one of them, he began to massage the ointment into both my wrists and neck where the manacles bore into my skin. He then turned me over onto my stomach and began massaging my back. His fingers kneading into my skin as my mind wandered into a state of confusion over his gentleness.






“Iason, why are you showing kindness after what I said?” I asked him.






“Like I said Riki, I do not appreciate my personal property being damaged,” he replied. “And like you said, I have no human emotion. I am without feeling. I am simply a slave to a super computer.”






Upon those words, Iason forcefully turned me around on to my back. Now facing him, I could swear I sensed a smile coming from him as he began to trail kisses from my neck down to my slender chest. His mouth licked, suckled, and formed a path from both my nipples down to my groin as he lifted my legs with his strong hands and took my shaft in his mouth and began to taste me. The sensation of his hot mouth on me made feel guilty that I had been enjoying it but my body gave in to his techniques as Iason caused me to submit to him.


I clenched the bed sheets with both hands and his golden hair stroked my body enslaving me to his touch. As much as I hated to admit what he was doing me, I greedily wanted him to do more. Eason lifted his head from me and smiled.






“I see my pet seems pleased,” he said as he continued.






My eyes stared at the ceiling realizing my mistake that I had failed to remain dominant to my will when Eason clearly owned that. He might have taken my freewill, my body, and life but I would never give him my soul. That would remain with me.






Iason moved up my body to kiss me. I could nothing but oblige him as our lips touched. Once again that surge of electricity shot through my body as I allowed my lips and my tongue to touch his. He moved himself up and grabbed a different bottle of ointment near the bed and began to pour it into his hands. Before I could question him, I felt him stretch my forbidden hole of my sphincter apart with his finger. In and out of me, he spread me as this part of my anal cavity caved in to this examination as he continuously probed in order to get me to relax during this moment of foreplay.



“Tell me Riki,” he asked me. “Does your ex-lover Guy make you feel this good?”






I said nothing as he knew how to throw a dagger into my heart. He was talking about Guy, one of the leaders of our gang and my ex-lover. Guy had been the one who took my virginity and the only one I felt a bond with but I never enjoyed physical intimacy with him. Sex with Guy often became rough and unknowable but with Iason I felt a measure of pure bliss that I never thought I could feel with another person. After I became Iason’s pet slave, it had been part of our agreement that Guy and the rest of our gang would be left alone. By paying Iason with my body, my gang would escape persecution by Jupiter’s elite police force that might punish them with imprisonment or even death. Guy never knew what I had done to protect them. They could never know. The sacrifice had been too great. Even after Guy confessed that he loved me, I realized that I would never return the same feelings that he had of me.






“You seem distance Riki,” commented Iason. “You usually respond better to my touches.”






“Guy said he loved me,” I said to Iason as it this had been my final confession.



“I see. Let me see if I can make you forget him.”






Taking the last of the ointment, he began stroking his shaft as entered me. I shuddered at his touch as he began with the head of himself and worked the thickness into my anus. With each time he kept moving himself in, the muscles loosened and allowed him to enter me with ease as I allowed myself to relax and let him make love to me with the same aggressive gentleness as he had done many times before.






“Tell…me….what you…want Riki!”






“My….freedom…Iason!”

“You…know…I can’t!”

“Can’t..or..won’t!”

“Don’t…ask…that of me… Riki!”

“Why...won’t…you let me…go Iason?”



“Because…you’re mine! You …belong to me!”






Shocked at his words, I looked above at Iason who had me pinned to the bed. He thrust into me one last time as we shot a stream of liquid warmth together in unison. Iason maneuvered himself around to my side and put his muscular arm around me holding me close as he kissed my ear and whispered.



“We already too close to the edge in this Riki. It’s forbidden for me show any affection for pet, whether physical or emotional. Jupiter does not allow it. It could mean the death for the both of us.”






I turned to face him. A tear welled in my eye as I looked at my Master. He always seemed the cold, distant image of a political general to Jupiter’s army. Yet at this moment, there appeared to be some spark of light in his eyes. Iason took his finger to wipe away the liquid dew forming from my face.






“Iason, I do have a question,”






“What is it?”






“Do you even feel anything for me?”






Iason sighed, said nothing and stared away. His cold demeanor seemed to return.






“You know Riki, I can not answer that question. But if the roles were to be reversed, would I ask the same of you knowing the position we are in?”






“I suppose I couldn’t answer that question either,” I responded as we both stared at one another tangled in the sheets wondering how we let the boundaries of Master and slave be compromised.






No matter how much Iason and me attempted fight it. We were no longer Master and pet. Blondie or Mongrel. Enemy or friend. We broke down the barriers, crossed the border that separated us, and rebelled against our better judgment. We were now lovers. Nothing good could come from it.


END.

Meeting in the Men's Room

***Note this story contains unsafe sexual practices and even though this is purely a work of fiction, I do not support the idea of barebacking (no condom) sex play. Please have sex responsibly and always a wear a condom to prevent the spread of STD's and HIV!



The Man




The suited man sat in his car staring at his Rolex. 11:00 p.m. He had a long day at work and he needed a release. Being a marketing executive for the top advertising agency can take a toll on a person. Loosening his tie, he stared at the dimly lit men’s restroom illuminated by the lamp post nearby. The park was empty. No one in plain sight and certainly no cops patrolling the area looking for any closeted men soliciting sex. Just him in a dark parking lot. Alone. Another ten minutes he told himself. His prayers were answered as he watched a masculine figure enter the restroom. He got of his car and followed.


He opened the restroom door and noticed one of the stalls occupied. Should he dare? He decided against it and went to the closest urinal to relieve himself. A line of piss hit the porcelain as his mind raced with dirty thoughts. He grabbed his dick after he emptied himself and shook the last remaining droplets off. Zipping himself up, he noticed himself beginning to get hard. His mind raced with anticipation as he entered the next stall over. He sat on the throne and listened for any sound from his neighbor. Nothing. He stared at the floor and could make out the images of a leather boot underneath the stall. His mind fantasized again as he unbuttoned his trousers and began to masturbate. He began to work his hard cock around for while fantasizing about his neighbor and what he might be doing right now. Tugging himself up and down, he hoped that this would his lucky night to get laid.


He remained quiet as he listened to his neighbor stand up with his leather boots facing him underneath the stall. Through a broken opening in the stall, his neighbor did the unthinkable and pushed through his massive cock through a broken opening in the wall. This new opening would be the new glory hole. The suited man stared at the enormity of his neighbor. Ten inches in length and three inches in girth! His fantasy would finally be realized tonight.




“SUCK IT!” ordered his neighbor through the other side of the stall.




The suited man got down on his knees, his hand still on his hard cock, and began to take in his mouth all of his neighbor’s enormous manmeat. His neighbor grunted as he swallowed the full extent of this mighty phallus tickling his throat and gagging on it in the process. The suited man swore that his neighbor must be enjoying his technique as heard him grunt in pleasure during each slurp of his mouth. Still wet with his saliva, his neighbor withdrew his giant member from the newly annointed glory hole.




Left confused and bewildered, the suited man picked himself from the floor and began pulling up his pants. However, his neighbor interrupted him with a loud knock on the stall door. He slowly unlocked the hinge and finally got a look at his trick of the night. Standing before him in glorious leather, his muscular leather man grabbed him by the hair and once again brought him to his knees.


The leather man pushed his hard cock into the suited man’s mouth so that his pleasure could be appeased. The suited man relished in being used repeatedly as he fucked his leather man with his mouth. Taking every inch of his leather man, the suited man took in the scent of the leather man’s musk as he licked every inch of his dominant lover’s manmeat. Being the submissive that he is, the suited man paid every attention to his lover’s needs and ensured that his master’s satisfaction would be fulfilled.




“YEAH SUCK IT!” the leather man barked as bucked his hips with each cock stroke.




The suited man could not get enough of his leather man’s phallus. He continued to massage him with mouth as he worked his way around the scrotum and up to the tip of the leather man’s cock.




The leather man pulled away once more and pushed the suited man to the back of the stall. Locking the stall door behind him, the leather man pulled down the suited man’s trousers and bent him over the toilet. Spitting into his three fingers, the leather man gently pushed them inside the forbidden hole of the suited man. Gaping the area and spreading it wide, the suited man moaned in pleasure upon this violation.


“YOU LIKE THAT?” the leather man asked.




“Mmmmmm..yeah!” grunted the suited man.




Spitting a bigger wad into his hand, the leather man greased up his huge cock and began tearing a pathway into the suited man’s hole. The suited man screamed as his tight hole stretched to accommodate the leather’s girth as it slid in and out of him. Holding the toilet tighter, the suited man bit his lip as he felt the muscles of his small hole loosening. This and the combination of the leather man slamming himself to the full hilt of the suited man’s backside nearly caused him to climax.




“YEAH! TAKE THAT BIG DICK!” yelled the leather man. “YOU LIKE THAT BIG DICK IN YOUR ASS?”




“Mmmmm…..yes I do!” grunted the suited man in response.




YOU LIKE IT WHEN I’M FUCKING YOU?”




“Aaaaaah…..yes…”




“DO YOU WANT ME TO CUM ON ALL OVER YOU ASS!”




“Please…ahhh…come all….ahhh..my ass!”




The leather man withdrew and shot a stream of semen all over the suited man’s buttocks. The suited man in return stroked himself and released his seed on to the bathroom floor. Spent and panting, the two said nothing as they cleaned themselves up and adjusted their clothes. No phone numbers were exchanged. No names were mentioned. They both were there for one reason. One reason only and that was sex. Hot, dirty, anonymous sex! The leather man had been the first to leave. The suited men soon followed after.




The suited man got back into his car and once again stared at the empty park at night. He definitely would return again. He looked at his Rolex. 11:30 p.m. Time to get home to the wife and kids.


END.