Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the third week, there is no theme! Anything goes in these erotic stories. Don’t forget to come back for Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy P is for Pride.

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The word “pride” can be associated with so many different things. Gay pride is the first that comes to my mind, but that’s because I have several family members who are gay. Then there’s a pride of lions. But the first actual definition is “a feeling or deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements.”

I always felt proud of who I was. Proud of the independent woman I had become. But maybe I had been a bit too prideful. That was never more apparent than the first time I chose to submit to someone. But before you think this is all sorts of shades of a nondescript color, that is nowhere near what my story is like. Want to hear it?

@}–}—–

I was 18 years old and had gotten my acceptance into a prestigious university. Coming from a wealthy family, I wasn’t worried about how I was going to pay for it. I wasn’t concerned with applying for scholarships. My friends wanted to go out and party, and I agreed. We went to my friend’s house while her work-a-holic parents were out and started drinking. I only had one drink, but some of my friends had considerably more. They wanted to go dancing, so we went to the local gay bar. It was generally safer than anywhere else, and they allowed 18-year-olds in on some nights.

We entered, and I am pretty sure the bouncer knew that some of us were not 100% sober, but she didn’t say anything. We paid our admission and went into the club. The DJ was already playing a hot dance number, and we were on the dance floor within seconds. Three songs later, I needed a break. They were all running on adrenaline and the remnants of alcohol, but my alcohol had long since worn off, and my feet hurt more than I wanted to admit.

I found an empty seat at the bar and sat down. Before I even had a chance to order a soda, someone took the bar stool next to mine.

“What can I get you?” a tall, willowy woman asked from beside me.

“Me?” I asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’m going to buy you a drink.”

I wanted to say, “Uh, who are you?” but I didn’t. I couldn’t figure out what this woman’s angle was and until I did, I wasn’t going to be openly rude. Besides, my friends were all still on the dance floor.

“What can I get you?” she repeated.

“A soda,” I replied.

She nodded and signaled the bartender who immediately dropped what he was doing to take her order. She ordered two sodas and handed one to me when it came.

“I’m Samita,” she said.

I extended my hand to her in the polite way I had been taught, “I’m Laura.”

“Cute,” she said under her breath, and she shook my hand.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said.

“I don’t come often,” I said.

“Well, maybe we can change that,” she replied and slipped off the bar stool.

I watched her walk a few steps and debated whether or not I should follow her. Part of me wanted to, but a part of me, my pride probably, told me not to. In the end, I let her walk away. I drained my soda and went to dance with my friends.

But after another song, they wanted a break, and I quickly found myself alone on the dance floor. I sighed inwardly, but the song that had just started was my favorite, and I wasn’t keen on leaving the dance floor just as it began. I kept swaying to the music by myself, and soon I felt hands on my hips. I turned my head back so I could see who it was, and I was unsurprised to see that it was Samita.

I smiled at her, and she kept her hands on my hips and danced with me. Soon she was grinding her hips against mine, and I was grinding back at her. Before I knew it, she had turned me around, and we were practically dry humping on the dance floor. I had never been so turned on in my life, and I had no idea where it had come from.

As the song came to an end, her movements slowed, and she pulled me closer to her so that our whole bodies were touching. Then she kissed me.

It was so unexpected that I opened my mouth to her and gave her complete access to me without meaning to. But something about it felt so right. I felt the music pick up again and bodies around us were moving in time to the music, but the two of us stood there in the middle of it all, our lips locked together. I didn’t even realize what I was doing when my hands slid around her waist.

She broke the kiss and licked down my jawline right to my ear. I could just make out the words she said, “Come home with me.”

I just nodded yes.

Little did I know, that one slight movement of my head would change the course of my life.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the third week, there is no theme! Anything goes in these erotic stories. Don’t forget to come back for Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy N is for Nostalgia.

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We all have that one relationship, sometimes more, that we regret. We look back on it and go, “What the hell was I thinking?” For me, it was my college boyfriend. I dated several guys my freshman year, but sophomore year, I ended up with a guy who was super controlling and domineering. We dated right up until the end of my senior year. He didn’t like where I was going with my life (and he was cheating on me), so he dumped me, five minutes before graduation started. It was heartbreaking. My whole family was there to witness it, too. It was a college version of that scene at the beginning of Eurotrip, except my boyfriend was dumping me.

But I had moved on from that. Tomorrow was my 30th birthday, and I was looking forward to starting a new decade. Leave the old behind, bring on the new and all that jazz. I was single, I was living in Boston, and I had good friends to celebrate with. Even though we lived in the city, they wanted me to have a spectacular time, so they had booked us a room in an old hotel right near the center of Boston. It overlooked Boston Common, and it was beautiful, though some said the rooms were haunted. I had stayed at this hotel only once before in my life, on the eve of my 21st birthday, courtesy of my terrible college boyfriend, Richard. He had taken me to a show nearby and booked us a room. Sometimes he had been quite the romantic. But thinking back on that night nine years before, I only had vague recollections of why I had dated him so long. Generous nights like that one were part of it, but I knew there must have been more. The memory was too fuzzy to really identify.

I laid down on the plush queen-sized bed and reminisced. Even though I hadn’t had a guy who I really connected with lately, I was pretty lucky. Of course, what I really missed was a good orgasm delivered by someone other than my Battery Operated Boyfriend. I drifted off to sleep thinking of Richard and college and the wild nights we used to have.

I woke up to a beeping alarm that didn’t sound like my own. It sounded like an alarm from a far-off dream. Why had I set the alarm? I wasn’t supposed to. It was my birthday. I was allowed to sleep in on my birthday. I rolled over to turn off the alarm and encountered a warm body. Panic filled me. A cold chill that went from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I couldn’t see the stranger in my bed. No, not my bed. Where I was I? The hotel. I remembered that. The warm body was entirely wrapped up in the blanket, just like Richard had always done. And then the covers were tossed aside as the figure grumbled and rolled over and it was Richard! Oh my god, it was Richard in the flesh. He looked just the same as he had the last time I had seen him. There were no signs that he had aged at all. I couldn’t believe it. I knew that I looked completely different. My hair was shorter, I had gained weight, and I had crow’s feet around the corners of my eyes. But Richard looked exactly the same. What the hell was he doing here? I hadn’t seen him in years!

He was mumbling something as he woke from sleep, but I couldn’t make it out. I rolled off the bed and got to my feet. I looked down at my body, and I was naked. And thin. I couldn’t make sense of it. I escaped to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door. I took a deep breath and tried to figure out what was going on. Why was Richard here? Had I gotten drunk last night? I hadn’t remembered drinking at all much less drinking enough to have invited Richard back to my room. I couldn’t imagine what was going on. I braced my hands on the edge of the marble counter and looked at my hands. They looked different. I wasn’t wearing any jewelry. I took a steadying breath and looked in the mirror. There were no crow’s feet around my eyes, and my hair was long again. I blinked at my reflection and came to the reluctant realization that I wasn’t 30 anymore; I was reliving my 21st birthday.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the second week, my theme is romantic stories. Come back for Week 3 (Anything Goes) or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy M is for Moonlight.

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She looked out onto the lake at sunset. It was beautiful at this time of day, but she knew it would be terrible to go outside. The bugs were the worst right at sunset. Once it was entirely dark, it would be better. She would still get bitten terribly by mosquitos if she didn’t go right into the water, but it was only thirty feet to the dock.

She moved away from the window and went to change into her bathing suit. It had just come in the mail, and she modeled it in front of the full-length mirror in the hallway. It was a two-piece, but it wasn’t revealing. The bottoms were solid blue, and the top was white with blue flowers. The straps were adjustable, just how she liked them to be. She practiced the form she would use for a dive in front of the mirror. When she raised her arms above her head, her stomach was exposed, but not too much.

By the time she was done, the sun had set completely. She went to the sliding glass door and grabbed a towel off the table next to the door. She was poised to run out into the moonlight when she noticed there was someone already in the lake!

@}–}—–

He had loved coming to this secluded lake in Pennsylvania since he was a small child, but as an adult, he hadn’t had much time to visit his aging aunt. She lived alone and had managed to figure things out for herself, but he felt guilty for not spending more time with her. She had no children, and his own mother had passed away when he was barely a man. She had mentored him as he went to college and started his career. But he had finally taken the time to step away from his busy life to spend a weekend with his aunt.

When he had been a boy, his favorite thing to do was go night swimming with his dad. There was nothing like the quiet of the night, swimming in the moonlight. He was eager to get in the water, but his aunt had asked his help with some laundry. By the time he had that situated, she had fallen asleep on the couch. He was glad she had fallen asleep because it would mean solitude in the water. His life needed to take a different turn, desperately. He just couldn’t figure out what he needed to do. Mulling it over in the cool water would help.

He ran out into the night and dove off the end of the dock. He knew to make it a shallow dive so he wouldn’t hurt himself. He surfaced fifteen feet from the dock and looked up at the moon. It was beautiful. He never tracked the phases of the moon, but it looked like it was close to full. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the stars were brilliant. He could see so many more stars here than he could when he was at home in Philadelphia.

@}–}—–

Marie pushed down the feeling of annoyance at having her solitude ruined. It wasn’t like she owned the lake, but no one else was ever out at night. Her elderly neighbor fell asleep in front of the TV on the couch most nights. When they both had their curtains open, they could see right into each other’s living rooms. She didn’t go night swimming every night, but most nights she did. It was the thing that had pushed her to buy this place five years ago when she had come into a sizeable inheritance. She loved that no one there knew her, and she loved that she could be in solitude. She had made some friends, like the lovely woman next door. On her other side, the house was set far back from the lake and she hardly ever saw the owners.

Well, she was already wearing her bathing suit, so she might as well go anyway. She was just glad she hadn’t decided to go skinny dipping. In the typical seclusion, she often forewent the bathing suit and just dove right in.

She dropped the towel on the bench by the water and quietly walked to the end of the dock where she lifted her arms and executed a perfect shallow dive into the water.

@}–}—–

Martin watched as a beautiful, curvy woman exited her home and approached the water. He hadn’t realized the neighbor had been home. He hadn’t seen anyone in the house all day, and there had been no car in the driveway when he had arrived hours earlier. With the way the light glowed behind her, he couldn’t make out any of her features, not even the color of her hair, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the curve of her hips and the way her thick thighs left no gap between them. He was a sucker for a woman with curves.

He was still spellbound when he got a peek at her creamy stomach as she dove into the water.

“What are you doing here?” she called out to him when she surfaced.

“Me?” he asked.

“Who else?” she replied, and he could hear the eye roll in her tone.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the second week, my theme is romantic stories. Come back for Week 3 (Anything Goes) or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy L is for Lifeguard.

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Winner! This post won for week 2. Check out the continuation here.

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I sat down on the recliner at the pool, situating my towel just right and making sure I had the appropriate amount of sun. If I sat too much in the sun, my pale skin would burn. If I sat too much in the shade, I couldn’t see my daughter swimming. My daughter was obviously more important than my skin, but I also wanted to give her a little more independence. She was six now and was a decent swimmer. Plus, she was wearing a life jacket. So overall, I didn’t need to keep quite the watch on her I did when she was younger. Hell, I wouldn’t have been able to sit on the side of the pool while she swam even a year ago. This summer I had a lot more freedom to let her go out on her own a bit. It did help that she made friends easily. I swear, she could strike up a conversation with anyone. I was totally not that way. In fact, I was the stark opposite of that. Talking to new people scared the crap out of me. I was much happier sitting on the side of the pool with my sunglasses on, watching the kids play, and the other adults interact with each other and hide behind my dark glasses alone.

My daughter hit the water before I was even done situating my chair and towel. I wasn’t surprised because one of the friends she had made over the weeks was there. They were playing and squealing at a pitch that would bother a dog’s ears. And then I saw him. The lifeguard.

I’m sure you’re thinking, of course, there’s a lifeguard. There are probably several lifeguards. Well, yes, obviously there are. However, this was one particular lifeguard I had been watching for a couple of years. At first, it was idle curiosity. He seemed cute for a kid. I assumed he was about 16-17 at the time since 16 is the minimum age this pool employed lifeguards. But that was several years ago, and now he must be 19 at the youngest. Eye candy. Great eye candy.

As a single mother, I would take all the eye candy I could get. Bringing a guy home was tricky business with my daughter around. It was easier when she was in a crib because she couldn’t surprise me. But now she can get out of her bed, obviously, and come right into my bedroom. Of course, I could lock the door, but then she bangs on it and wants to know why it’s locked. So my house is tough.

My husband passed away while I was pregnant. Don’t pity me. He was an ass. It was better for everyone that he drove himself into a tree while drunk. I am sure it was an accident, but I wasn’t particularly heartbroken about it. So there is no shared custody.

I can hire a babysitter so that I can date, but that doesn’t help me with overnights. Not that it’s all about the bedroom, but who is going to date a woman who he can’t spend the night with in the foreseeable future? No one, that’s who.

So eye candy it is.

And Jake is definite eye candy. Okay, well, I think his name is Jake. I’m not sure. It could be John or Jack or something else entirely. I think I heard one of the other lifeguards call him a name that started with J, but there was a lot of background noise, so it’s hard to tell. I just started calling him Jake in my head. It was easier that way.

My head was turned in the direction of my daughter, but my eyes were glued to Jake. He was sitting in the lifeguard stand closest to me. It gave me a great view of his long hair, pulled back in a bun. Some men can’t pull off buns, but Jake could. Jake so definitely could. He was watching my daughter though, which was good because I wasn’t. I saw him tense and look like he was about to stand. His posture turned my attention to the pool, and I saw my daughter sputtering in the water. She had gone under and hadn’t been expecting it. I jumped up and went to her aid. She was fine, really. She had stood up and coughed a bit and then was back to playing with her friends before I could even get into the water. I glanced at Jake and saw that he had settled back into his seat with a relaxed posture.

I was more attentive to my daughter after that.

When the whistles blew to signify adult swim, I got my daughter settled on her towel with some snacks and drinks and reapplied sunscreen. Within a few minutes, she had scarfed down her snack, drank half the bottle of water, and asked if she could go hang out with her new friend. I shrugged and said she could go. I could see the other family sitting not far away. I really didn’t want to introduce myself to the people, but I felt like I should. Damn being a parent. Maybe I could sneak away and go for a swim while the kids were occupied.

I stood up and wandered toward the water, dipping my foot in. It was nice and warm. Warm enough that a swim would be nice. That was the last thing I thought before my whole body plunged into the water, sundress and all.

I must have hit my head pretty hard on my way into the pool, because the next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back on the concrete side and Jake’s face was hovering over me, dripping pool water on me, his mouth inches from my own. Did I die and go to Heaven?

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Winner! This post won for week 2. Check out the continuation here.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the second week, my theme is romantic stories. Come back for Week 3 (Anything Goes) or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy K is for Kiss.

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It was a kiss. One kiss. What is it about this guy that has me so hooked?

I went to the bar to let off some steam. I didn’t expect to meet anyone. I didn’t expect to go home with anyone. In fact, I really didn’t have any expectations at all except a night out. Pounding music, sweaty strangers, anonymity. That’s what I was craving. Not a kiss. So how the hell did I end up sleeping in someone else’s bed?

The scary thing is? I don’t remember.

@}–}—–

Friday at work was terrible. Usually, Fridays were happy days! The weekend was upon us, and with that light at the end of the tunnel, everything seems lighter and easier to manage. But this particular Friday was terrible. My company was downsizing, and they announced there would be a layoff on Friday morning. Way to ruin a weekend. The worst part was that they announced there would be a layoff, but didn’t actually do it! They were offering a decent severance package, and their announcement asked for volunteers. So my job likely relies on some number of people volunteering to leave their job. If not enough people volunteer, I might be out of a job. Well shit.

I did graphic design for a company that grew too quickly. They hired a bunch of people two years ago, but now they couldn’t sustain the size. I was one of the new hires two years ago, so it was likely my job was on the chopping block.

So after that lovely news, we all needed to blow off some steam. I went out with a bunch of my coworkers to a bar and had a drink or two, but then they all went home to their families and significant others. I was alone though. No job for me didn’t mean that my husband would have to pick up more of the bills because I am single. And with no job, I am screwed. I knew that I should start looking for other work immediately, even if I escape still employed. But I just couldn’t bring myself to start the search. One night of blowing off steam, and on Saturday I could update my resume and get back on the job search websites.

Best laid plans… or so they say.

When my coworkers left, I stayed at the bar. No one seemed to notice that I went to the restroom when they all went out the door and after they were gone, I went back to the bar. I talked to the bartender for a while and had a few more drinks. And then the real dinner rush came in, and I had talked to the bartender a little too much. I knew it was time to move on.

I walked out of the bar and turned left. I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going, I just walked. One of the benefits to a big city was that I didn’t have to drive and I could just pick a random direction, and I would almost always find something interesting. In this case, I found a dance club. It was perfect. Exactly what I needed.

Unfortunately, the dance club didn’t open until 9, and it was only 7, so I found a coffee shop and sobered up. I had downloaded a romance novel on my e-reader app on my phone, so I read that for a while. By the time I was ready to go to the dance club, I was totally sober. I figured it was wise to be sober at a dance club anyway.

I went in ten minutes after they opened, and the place was pretty empty. I got a drink at the bar and sat watching the door, hoping crowds of people would filter in. The DJ was ready, playing some good dance music, but I didn’t want to be the only one on the dance floor. After 40 minutes and two drinks, I decided I was going to dance anyway. It was so empty, I just left my drink on the bar while I danced. Looking back, I realize it was a stupid mistake. I am pretty sure that’s how I got drugged. It’s the only explanation I can come up with.

After I danced for a little while, I went back to my drink. I didn’t give it a second thought as I tossed back the contents. I remember there was a guy hanging around the bar where I had been sitting. I gave him a shy smile but didn’t engage. He just watched me. It was very creepy.

With no drink to worry about, I went back out onto the dance floor. And that was where I had the kiss of my life. As I danced, I was keeping an eye on the guy who had been hovering. While I watched him, another guy came up behind me and started dancing really close to me. I felt him brush my hips and ass lightly a few times. I gave up my vigil on creepy guy and turned to see who was dancing with me. He turned out to be the most attractive guy I had ever seen. Not perfect, but just enough imperfection to make him insanely gorgeous. There was no way to talk on the dance floor, but he reached a hand out as though to shake mine. When our hands touched, I felt a jolt of energy race through me, and I felt my heart pound. Then he leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. I melted against him right there on the dance floor.

The next thing I remembered was waking up next to him in an unfamiliar place.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the second week, my theme is romantic stories. Come back for Week 3 (Anything Goes) or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy J is for Jacuzzi.

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I could not believe my luck. I was sitting in a jacuzzi with the hottest girl I had ever seen. What had I done to deserve this luck? I had met her just a week ago at the mall. She had seemed so cool, so perfect that I had hesitated to approach her. Typically, I was confident and would have had no problem saying hello to her, but her beauty made me pause. Thankfully, I got up the nerve. I offered to buy the coffee she was ordering at the kiosk in the mall, but she turned me down. I respected her for that. When I asked if she would like to sit and chat, she said no thanks. I don’t think I successfully hid my disappointment, but I tried to, and I nodded, said, “Have a good day,” and let her be. I wasn’t one to push my luck, and I was always respectful.

I sat down at an empty table near the kiosk with my coffee and pulled out a book. I was reading a popular science fiction novel, and within minutes I was too absorbed to notice the other people around me. So when she asked, “What do you think of that book?” I was shocked.

It took me a moment to respond, but then I said, “It’s good. I was completely absorbed that I didn’t realize you had sat down with me.”

She smiled and sipped her coffee, and we talked about the book. It turned out that she had read it and had loved it. Before I knew it, an hour had passed, and we were still sitting there talking. “Oh shit,” she said, and I loved the fact that she had cursed. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I need to go!”

“Okay,” I said.

“Meet me here tomorrow, same time?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. I had no earthly idea what I was supposed to be doing at that time tomorrow, but I knew that I would clear my schedule so I could see her.

Now a week later, we had seen each other every day. What I had initially thought was perfection was even deeper than that. She did have physical flaws, and each one made her more and more intriguing and beautiful. And best of all, she was as beautiful inside as she was outside. She was smart, spontaneous, and stunning. What more could I ask for in a woman? I was more than a little tempted to propose to her, even though I knew that was ridiculous.

So when she asked if I would go away with her for the weekend, I didn’t hesitate. And now, here we were, completely naked in the jacuzzi tub of a hotel room we had reserved at an adults-only resort. I hadn’t seen her naked before now, and her body beneath her clothes was just as exquisite. I wanted to touch her all over, but I was letting her set the pace of this relationship. It seemed that as soon as I had stopped pursuing her, she had felt comfortable enough to pursue me. I figured that would likely apply to the bedroom, so I didn’t press anything.

She kissed me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I held her close to me, but she was the one who climbed onto my lap while we kissed. My fingers trailed up and down her back as we kissed, and when my nails lightly dug into her back, she moaned into my mouth. I scratched a little harder, and she began to grind her hips against mine. I felt my erection grow quickly and knew that she must feel it, too. I hoped that had been her goal.

Breaking the kiss, she panted, “Sit up on the edge of the tub.”

I did as she asked and she looked at my hard cock, sticking straight up into the air in front of me. She took me in her mouth, and I almost slid back into the water with weak knees. Her mouth was so warm and wet, and she knew exactly what she was doing. Without warning, she swallowed my entire length, the head of my cock hitting the back of her throat. I thought she would gag, but she didn’t. She took me easily, and no one had ever been able to do that before. I was a good eight inches when I was hard like this. As she pumped her head up and down on my cock, I thought I was going to lose it quickly.

“I am going to cum,” I moaned.

She moved faster on me, up and down, up and down, pressing me into the back of her throat. My ass clenched and my balls tightened, and I knew that I was already past the point of no return.

“I’m cumming!” I yelled, and she took my length deep into her mouth so she could catch all of my cum.

When my balls were empty, she pulled off of my cock, opened her mouth to show me my cum, and then swallowed it all. Then she licked the tip of my cock very lightly where a bead of cum had appeared. She nipped at my inner thigh, and I groaned and felt my cock spasm as it softened.

“How did you ever learn to do that?” I groaned as I slid back into the water in front her.

“I did porn for eight years,” she said.

Well, yeah, that would do it.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the second week, my theme is romantic stories. Come back for Week 3 (Anything Goes) or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy I is for Interstate

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She took the Interstate South instead of North. Damn. It was not what she had intended to do, and she hadn’t realized it until it was too late. Her GPS on her smart phone wasn’t working, and now she was alone, in an unfamiliar place, and she had been going South for an hour before she even realized.

She hadn’t realized her mistake until she hit Massachusetts. She hadn’t intended to leave New Hampshire, so…

Stopping at the Welcome Center seemed to be the best idea. She hoped she could turn around there and head back North, but at least there might be someone there who could give her directions. Unfortunately, when she got into the Welcome Center, there was no one at the desk. It appeared that no one was there but the tourists.

Sighing, she went to the soda machine to buy a Pepsi. She pulled out her wallet. She had three dollars. A soda was two dollars. Fine. She needed it. She put in the money and watched as the soda got stuck. Damn! Isabelle pounded the side of her fist against the machine, but when the soda stayed lodged against the glass, she thunked her head against it and moaned out loud, “Why me?”

“That machine always gets stuck,” a voice said behind her.

She whirled around. “How would you know?”

“I stop here a lot,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, skeptical.

“Because it’s halfway to my daughter’s house. She and her kids live up on a lake in New Hampshire. I live down near Boston. But I like to stop and break up the drive, even if it is only three hours.”

Isabelle was nearing 50, and the man looked like he couldn’t be older than 45. “You have grandkids?”

“Yep, two of them. I have pictures!” he said, pulling out a smart phone.

She raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment. She politely looked as he showed her a picture of a young boy holding a baby. “Congratulations,” she said.

“Thanks!” he said. “I only regret that my wife will never get to hold her first granddaughter. She passed away last year.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Isabelle said, her heart warming to the man.

He waved a hand in the air as though to clear away the bad memory. “She was very sick. I couldn’t stand to see her live that way. But I do miss her.”

“Of course you do,” she paused, and then an idea struck her, “Hey, I wonder if you could help me. I’m sort of lost.”

“Lost? Of course, I can help.” She explained where she was trying to go and how she had gotten turned around. “Oh that’s so funny,” he said, “My daughter lives very close to where you’re headed.”

“Really?”

“Yes, there are a lot of rentals up in that area.”

“Well, I’m looking to move there,” Isabelle admitted. “I have an appointment with a realtor tomorrow morning.”

“That’s wonderful! Where are you living now?”

“California, actually. I took a flight into Manchester, but now I’m lost.”

“Well, I was heading home, but I could go back up North and guide you.”

“Oh that’s silly, you don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense. My daughter would be happy to have me stay with her another night. I’m only halfway, anyway.”

@}–}—–

An hour and a half later, they had arrived at her hotel. They parked next to each other and got out. “There, I got you safely to your destination!” he pronounced.

“You did. I can’t thank you enough. I don’t even think I got your name,” she admitted sheepishly.

“It’s Irving.”

“Thank you, Irving. I’m Isabelle,” she said, and she extended a hand to shake. As their hands touched, their eyes met, and Isabelle felt a jolt of electricity go through her. “Can I see you again?” she asked.

“I certainly hope so,” Irving replied.

---

Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the second week, my theme is romantic stories. Come back for Week 3 (Anything Goes) or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy H is for Hotel.

---

When I sat down at the hotel bar, I expected to have a drink, get some dinner, and then go back to my room. I did not expect to meet the man of my dreams.

I was on a business trip to Harrisburg, PA. For a capital city, it lacked a lot. There was this very nice section where all the state offices were, and then it went downhill fast. There weren’t a lot of places to eat, and I didn’t want to wander the city by myself. A woman traveling alone was an easy target. Sad, but true. So the hotel restaurant seemed to be the place to be. It was pricey, but my advertising firm would pick up the tab anyway.

“Ms. Hailes?”

“Yes?” I replied.

“There’s a spot at the bar if you would prefer, ma’am.”

I didn’t prefer, really. I would rather a table, but there didn’t seem to be any available, and the host didn’t seem to want to seat me at a table alone anyway. “Fine,” I said, trying to keep the snap out of my voice. I just really hoped I wasn’t bothered by some goon who thought I would be an easy mark. I was conscious of how high the slit on my pencil skirt would go when I sat down on a bar stool. I had been in meetings all day and hadn’t bothered to change out of my suit jacket, dress shirt, skirt, and heels.

It was warm in the restaurant, and I took my jacket off, hanging it on the back of my bar chair. At least it was a chair, and not truly a stool, I reminded myself.

I ordered a drink and sighed deeply as the warmth of the alcohol hit my bloodstream. I couldn’t remember eating lunch, but my day was such a blur, it was possible I had. After a few minutes, I realized that my one drink was affecting more than I preferred to admit. I would be glad when my dinner came.

“Excuse me?”

“What?” I snapped, the alcohol removing the filter I would typically have in public.

“You, uh, dropped your jacket, ma’am.” A rich southern accent sounded over the noise in the bar, as a man leaned down to hand me my jacket. He leaned down. To my bar stool. He towered over me.

“Oh, thank you.” My cheeks warmed from my embarrassment at snapping at him. I imagined the combination of that and the alcohol was making my face very red.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Goodness, I liked that he called me ma’am. It was sexy as hell. He walked away, and I watched as he sat down a few seats down from me, one couple in between us. I mentally kicked myself for snapping at him earlier. He was handsome. My food came, and I ate, feeling the effects of the alcohol lessen with each bite.

When the couple paid their check and got up from the bar, I was able to study the man. His hair was blonde, almost brunette. I couldn’t see his eyes. His profile was strong and handsome. He was wearing cowboy boots and jeans with a flannel shirt. How typically southern. And that accent. I couldn’t get the accent out of my head. I really didn’t know much about him, but he looked like the man of my dreams.

But the question I had to ask myself was: Is he truly the man of my dreams or is he just a figment of my imagination?

---

Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Did you enjoy my A to Z Stories? If you want me to continue writing one of those stories, vote for it by liking the post, leaving a positive comment, or voting on this Google Form! If you vote using the Google Form, you can enter into a drawing to win a free copy of the e-book! (More details in my Theme Review.)

This week’s kinky stories were:

• A is for Anniversary
• B is for Blackmail
• C is for Caged
• D is for Death
• E is for Eager
• F is for Faithful
• G is for Garage

Next week, be on the lookout for a week of romance!

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy G is for Garage.

---

I entered the garage with trepidation. I didn’t know what to expect. So I was surprised when I saw that there was a king sized bed in the middle of it and four couches, one on each side facing the bed. The couches were mismatched, different sizes and colors. The bed was covered with a green sheet. The bed was bare otherwise, no comforter, no pillows. I looked around for George. It was his garage after all, and I saw him stand up from behind one of the couches. When he stood, he had a bottle of water in his hand. He held it out to me, but I shook my head. I was too nervous to have any water. I hadn’t eaten all day either. I wasn’t sure if that was going to be a good thing or a bad thing, but I couldn’t stomach food knowing what my evening was going to entail.

For as long as I could remember, I had wanted to be part of a gangbang. Me and a whole bunch of guys filling every hole. It was my #1 fantasy. But for whatever reason, it had been unattainable for a long time. And then I met George. George and I tried dating, but while the sex was great, there wasn’t a romantic spark between us. We had continued having sex and being good friends, and I had confessed my fantasy to him. He promised to make it happen for my 30th birthday. And today was the day. He had the perfect space for it. His garage was at the end of a long driveway, and there were no houses particularly close to it. I could scream for all I was worth, and no one would come running. He had used a spray to make the windows tinted, so it was all but impossible to see in them. And of course, he had set up the couches and bed. He had also secured the guys.

I will probably never know where he found the guys. For all I knew, he had picked them up on the subway, but he assured me that he knew them and trusted them. I trusted my friend to keep me safe. So I put on my sexiest thong that tied on both sides for easy removal, a flared skirt that buttoned all the way down the front, a halter top that zipped up the back, and the highest red heels I could wear without spraining an ankle.

He had set the party for 9 pm. It would be dark by then, and the neighborhood kids would all be heading back to their houses. I showed up at eight.

“Have you eaten today, Gretchen?”

“No,” I admitted.

He gave me a hard look. “You’re going to need to eat to keep your strength up tonight.”

“You make it sound like I’m running a marathon,” I joked, but he just kept looking at me with that piercing gaze. “Fine, but nothing heavy. I’m,” I hesitated, “a bit nervous.”

He came over to me and put his arms around my waist. I had to look up to his eyes, even in the high heels. “Gretchen, we talked about this. You have to take care of yourself.”

“I know, I know,” I brushed him off, taking a step away from him. “I’m fine.”

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” He motioned for me to follow him and I did. In the back corner of the garage, he had a cheese and fruit tray, and plates of crackers.

“What’s all this?”

“Who knows how late this event is going to go. I filled the coolers with Gatorade and water.” I raised an eyebrow at him in question. “I’m not providing a bunch of horny guys with alcohol while they fuck my best friend.”

A shudder went through me at his words. “How about some alcohol for me?”

“One glass of wine, Gretchen. That’s it. And you have to eat first.”

“Fine,” I agreed.

When there were only 15 minutes left until the official start of the party, George got up from the couch where we were sitting. “Finish your wine, Gretchen. It’s time to get ready.”

I nodded, the butterflies in my stomach flapping their wings intensely. I had asked George for one big thing from tonight. I wanted total anonymity. I didn’t want to run into one of the guys at the grocery store and know he had had his cock in my ass and down my throat.

He extended his hand to me, and I took it, standing, and being led over to the bed. He laid me down on the bed on my back and secured a blindfold tightly around my eyes. “Can you see?” he asked. I felt the air move as he waved a hand around my face, but I couldn’t see anything.

“No, not a thing,” I breathed out.

“Perfect. I’ll be back soon.” I heard the large door to the garage close, and then there was no sound. I took a deep breath to try to steady my nerves, but I knew that no amount of deep breaths were going to calm the adrenaline racing through my body.

---

Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy F is for Faithful.

---

He had promised to be faithful.

I had believed him.

But he wasn’t faithful.

He wasn’t faithful at all.

 

I didn’t find out until I got an STD. Thankfully it was one that was easily curable, but it stung to know that he had been unfaithful. That had been a year ago, and maybe, just maybe, I was ready to get back into the dating scene. How much could have changed for a 29-year-old woman after a few years off the market?

A lot, apparently.

I downloaded an app, but I just couldn’t figure out the whole swipe right, swipe left phenomenon. How was I supposed to get to know people from a picture and a snippet of text? It was all so impersonal.

Saturday morning, less than 24 hours after downloading the app, I lay in bed trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. It seemed like I was getting nowhere.

I got up out of bed and put on my workout clothes. Then I deleted the app and went for a run.

I slowly jogged the quarter mile to the local park and then picked up my pace as I went around the half-mile track. I had headphones on, but as I ran, I watched the people congregating on the soccer fields in the middle of the track. One guy, in particular, caught my eye. He was shorter than the rest of them, which suited me fine since I was vertically challenged, myself. He just had this smile that I knew could light up a room. And he kept glancing in my direction.

I had planned to do a quick mile run, but after two laps, I was too into watching him to stop, and I ran a third lap. Usually, I would cool down by walking home, but I decided to walk a fourth lap as a cool down and then stretch, all the while keeping the soccer field in my view.

The group of guys had formed two teams and started playing against each other. I took my time stretching, and then I sat down on a bench. I had my phone with me, but I just turned the music off and sat watching.

Within a few minutes, an alarm went off, and the guys stopped playing. “Ten-minute break!” one of them yelled.

I was sitting back with my arms outstretched on either side of me. The guy I had been eyeing up headed in my direction. My heart pounded harder.

“Do you play soccer?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“You should try it. You’re a good runner.” Was he watching me run?

“I’m an okay runner,” I said.

He laughed. “I think you’re better than okay.”

I shrugged.

“Run with me,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yeah. Let’s do one lap.”

“You don’t have time for that.”

“Sure I do if I’m quick.”

I shrugged again. I didn’t want to say no, but I also wasn’t sure I could keep up with him. I wanted to try though. He was even cuter up close. I stood, and he was just a few inches taller than me, and I only stood at 5’3″. “Okay,” I said and started running.

I looked behind me as I started, and I saw the grin on his face before he took off after me.

He caught up easily, and we ran a quarter of the track without talking. Then he said, “I’m Jack, by the way.”

“I’m Krissy.”

“I’d shake your hand, but…” he let his voice trail off.

I laughed. “Maybe later.”

He laughed, too. “Definitely later.”

I looked over at him, and he was slowing down. I matched his pace. We were at the end of the park where there were a lot of trees and bushes. The soccer field wasn’t visible from the track there. In fact, no one could see them from where they were slowing down. He stopped and stood, facing me, hands on hips. I stopped and mimicked his pose.

We stood for a few moments, just looking at each other. And then all of a sudden, his face was inches from mine, and I was leaning in, and we were kissing.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his arms were around my waist. His tongue pressed into my mouth, and I melted against him. His hands slid under my shirt in the back, and one moved up and unhooked my bra. I was a little surprised, but so turned on. I pulled back far enough that he could slide his hands between us and his hands found my breasts.

He pinched my nipples hard, and I moaned into his mouth. I brought one hand between us and pressed it against the front of his pants. I could feel him getting hard through his shorts, and I wanted to pull them down.

He broke our kiss, and we were both panting. He looked down at me. “Come home with me,” he said.

I looked up into his big brown eyes, felt his hard cock under my hand, and nodded.

---

Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy E is for Eager.

---

I was so eager. Eager to feel his tongue on me. Eager to feel his hands on me. Eager to feel his cock fill my pussy.

But right now, I had to wait. He had me strapped to the bed, completely nude, and he was tickling me. I was so ticklish it wasn’t even funny, especially to me. But I found that when he tickled me against my will, it turned me on so much. I was drenched with my arousal. I pulled against the bonds in vain. I screamed. I felt tears prick my eyes. But all the while, I was getting more and more turned on.

“Please, stop, please, please stop tickling me,” I begged.

He didn’t respond. He just kept going. I kept screaming.

After what felt like an hour, but was only five minutes, he stopped. He slid one finger along my slit and collected my wetness. He brought his finger to my lips.

“A little turned on?” he asked.

I could lie, but what would be the point. “Yes, Sir,” I said.

He smiled then, and I knew that he was pleased. He stuck the finger into my mouth, and I eagerly licked it clean. He repeated the process twice more, and I felt a strong desire to suck his cock.

He smacked my inner thigh suddenly, and I jerked against the bonds.

“What is it you want in your mouth, slut?”

“Your cock.” I practically moaned the words.

“If I let you out of your bonds, will you be a good girl?”

“Of course, Sir,” I said.

And he knew that I was mostly telling the truth. I was a brat. I needed a heavy hand. I liked to push the boundaries. I liked pressing my luck. But he knew all of that. We had been playing together for a long time.

He shook his head, knowing that he was making a mistake, but doing it anyway. He didn’t take the restraints off of my wrists and ankles though; he just unclipped them from the bed restraints.

He was standing next to the bed, and I sank down to my knees in front of him. I took his cock into my mouth and began to suck him. I sucked gently, pulled his cock deep into my throat, then pulled back and licked him. I abandoned his cock for a moment and licked his balls, taking each one into my mouth in turn. He groaned when I did that. I knew he liked it.

But as I sucked him, one of my hands was moving to my pussy. I wanted to cum, even though I wasn’t allowed to without permission.

My fingers had barely touched my clit when he realized what I was doing. He pulled his cock from my mouth and smacked me across the face. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to sting and take me down a notch.

“What are you doing?” he asked, even though we both knew exactly what I had been doing.

“Sucking your cock, Sir.”

“And?”

“Playing with my clit, Sir.” I dropped my gaze to my lap in mock contrition.

“Are you allowed to play with your clit without permission?”

“No, Sir.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Get back on the bed.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

I got back on the bed, and he restrained me again. Then he got out the clamps that I dreaded. They connected my nipples to my clit. It wasn’t that bad, honestly, until I got aroused. And then my clit swelled, and it hurt worse than anything else he could do to me. But right now, my clit wasn’t too swollen, so I was okay.

He rereleased my wrists and ankles and told me to kneel in front of him. “You aren’t done sucking my cock,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied.

I got on my knees in front of him and resumed licking and sucking him. My nipples ached mildly with the chains pulling at them, but the longer I sucked him, the more he grabbed the back of my head and forced me to deep throat him, the more turned on I got.

Within a matter of seconds, I was moaning around his cock. As it hurt worse, I wasn’t able to focus on sucking him, so he wrapped his fingers in my hair and started fucking my throat.

The more forceful he got, the more turned on I got, the more it hurt. The more it hurt, the more turned on I got, the more I moaned. The more I moaned, the more forceful he got. It was a vicious cycle.

By the time he was ready to cum, I was crying. He slammed his cock down the back of my throat and held it a little longer than he had before, and I knew that was it. He groaned loudly, and I felt the first bit of cum hit the back of my throat. Then he pulled out and sprayed the rest of his cum across my face. His cum mixed with my tears and I nearly collapsed on the floor when he let go of my hair.

“Next time you want to play with your clit, you’ll ask.”

“Yes, Sir,” I choked out.

“You can play with it all you want now,” he said, and he walked out of the room and into the adjoining bathroom.

I picked myself up off the floor, disconnected the clamps with a wince, and then tenderly rubbed my clit. I was so turned on that it didn’t take long to get close to orgasm, but it was painful. The pain just spurred me on though.

I had one quiet, shuddering orgasm, and then I went to the bathroom door and knelt outside of it. “Thank you, Sir,” I called through the door. I didn’t get a reply.

---

Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy D is for Death.

---

I was free. Finally free. But I was free in the worst way possible. My parents were dead. Both of them.

My parents died in a car accident a week ago. They weren’t the most loved people, and very few people came to their memorial service. I had them cremated as soon as I could, and now their ashes were in the ground. I was free.

I walked out into the summer sunshine and took a deep breath. It was surreal, to say the least, but it was the best feeling I had had in a long time.

As long as I could remember, I had liked both boys and girls. My parents were bigoted assholes; God rest their souls. As long as they lived, I knew I couldn’t come out of the closet. I couldn’t talk to them about my feelings. I couldn’t date another guy. I had to hide that part of myself completely. But finally, at 29 years old, I was free for the first time in my life.

I didn’t know what to do with my newfound freedom. After college, I had thought about moving away, but it didn’t matter how far away I went, my parents were with me. My mother had never been particularly well, and I hadn’t wanted to stress her out any more than I had to. The whole situation was just terrible. I felt guilty for being relieved at their deaths, but it was my honest feeling.

Opening the door to my empty apartment, I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with people. I wanted to be entirely surrounded by people.

The gay bar. I had always wanted to go there, but terror gripped me at the thought that someone would see me and my parents would find out. I knew that I should have gotten over it long ago, but I hadn’t been able to. Now I could go if I wanted to. And I wanted to.

 

The bodies were crushing on the dance floor. There were guys on all sides of me, wearing little to nothing on their chests and very tiny booty shorts. I was not that daring. Not yet, at least. I had on a pair of jean shorts and a loose t-shirt. Someone wrapped an arm around my stomach and ground his hips against my ass. I turned to see who it was and almost fell over. I probably would have if he hadn’t been holding me.

“Hey,” he yelled in my ear.

I nodded at him and turned away, trying to get my bearings. I went to high school with this guy. I hadn’t known he was gay. Maybe he wasn’t gay. I had no idea. I had just been an awkward teenager back then dealing with all sorts of emotional shit. I had been pretty wrapped up in myself to notice what other people were doing, but I had always thought he was hot as hell. And now he had wrapped himself around me to dance. Holy shit.

When the song ended, another came on, and the pressure of his body against mine eased. His hand grabbed my wrist lightly and urged me to turn around. I did, looking up at him. He was a few inches taller than me with light brown hair that was just long enough to be messed up when he ran his fingers through it. I wanted to run my fingers through it. He let go of my wrist and offered his hand for me to take. I did, and he started to guide me off the dance floor.

The second floor of the club had a bar, and that was where he took me.

“Can I get you a beer?” he asked.

I nodded. I still hadn’t spoken a word. I was terrified.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” He signaled the bartender for two beers.

I swallowed hard. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Why not?”

I shook my head.

He nodded, understanding. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Why?” I asked, incredulous.

He smiled, feigning shyness. “I’ve always thought you were cute, but I didn’t think you were into guys.” He paused a second and a look of concern crossed his face. “You are into guys, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. “Yeah, I think so.”

He raised one eyebrow at me. “You think so.”

“Yeah,” I said. The bartender handed us each a beer, and I took a swig of mine. “I’ve never been with a guy before.”

He raised both eyebrows at me this time. “Come home with me tonight and let’s find out just how much you like guys,” he said.

It didn’t sound like a question, though I knew I should respond. I just didn’t know what I was going to say…

---

Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy C is for Caged.

---

Winner! This post won for week 1. Check out the continuation here.

---

Colby Carr woke up and was supremely uncomfortable. For a moment, he couldn’t remember why. As he opened his eyes and stretched, he remembered. Every morning, for as long as he could remember, he woke up with a raging hard-on. Unfortunately for him, his girlfriend had asked him to wear a cock cage. So this morning, he woke up with his raging hard-on pressed through the bars of the cage. He looked at it tentatively. The cage had bars that went around and two bars that went straight up the length of his shaft. When he was free, his cock hardened to seven inches, but in this contraption, he was restricted to about four inches.

Last night was the first time he had ever put it on. He had struggled to get the ring around his balls, and then the cage fitted to it and locked on, but he had managed. It had been after he had had sex with his girlfriend Corrine, so he had been nice and soft. He had reservations about wearing it overnight, but she had crooned at him that it turned her on and he went along with it. He usually did what she asked of him, even though they didn’t have a formal Dominant/submissive relationship.

Tentatively he touched the skin protruding from the bars. It felt as velvety as usual, and he groaned. The stimulation, even from himself, caused his cock to spasm against the metal. He rolled over to find Corrine but found that he was alone. “Fuck,” he whispered. He had been hoping that it would be enough for him to wear it overnight and she would take it off in the morning. But she hadn’t. And now he knew it would be too late.

Looking at the clock, he saw that it was nine. Corinne had to be at work by nine. He worked second shift, so he had nowhere to be, but since he went to work at two and she worked until five, he was afraid he was stuck in the cage for the whole day.

Picking up the phone, he dialed her mobile phone without thought. “Hello?” she said, after a few rings.

“Hey, Corrine,” Colby said.

“How are you?” The amusement in her voice was apparent.

“Hard.”

She giggled. “Perfect.”

“Not perfect. Where’s the key?”

“In my pocket.” His cock spasmed against his will. Why was it that knowing the only key to release him from hell was in his girlfriend’s pocket at work?

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Colby could tell from her tone that she was shrugging her shoulders on the other end of the connection.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“Watch your language, love,” she purred.

“Please, Corrine? Can I meet you on your lunch break?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Let me think about it.”

“Please, Corrine. I’m so hard. I can’t stand it.”

“You can take care of yourself,” she replied with a smile.

“How?”

“Be creative,” she admonished.

His mind was whirling. Could he get himself off with the cage enclosing his cock? Would it hurt too much? Would it be worth the relief though? Or, could he convince her to meet him on her lunch break? “Maybe,” he said, still thinking.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“If you can get yourself off and send me picture proof, I’ll let you meet me for lunch, and maybe I’ll let you have the key.”

“And if not?”

“Then you’re stuck until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

“But what about after work?”

“Nope. If you can’t take care of yourself, you get another night in the cage. Deal?”

He paused. It was a gamble. He had no idea if he could be successful, but he was willing to give it a try. “Deal.”

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Winner! This post won for week 1. Check out the continuation here.

 

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy B is for Blackmail.

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It was Monday. For as long as Bree could remember, Mondays were a day of mixed emotion. Okay, maybe not as long as she could remember, but for at least a year. Somehow, Brandon had gotten a hold of a picture of her all trussed up in bondage gear, and he had been using it to blackmail her. Brandon was a coworker who she had secretly had a crush on before all the blackmail started. Fortunately, or unfortunately, for her, he had decided to blackmail her for sexual favors.

So every Monday, she was his for the day. From 9 am, when they arrived at work, until midnight, she was bound to do everything he asked. At midnight, her life was her own again. She had conflicting emotions about it. After all the time they had spent together, she sort of liked serving Brandon. But she wasn’t sure it was wise for him to know that. He could easily use that knowledge against her.

She got to work at 8:40, far earlier than she needed to be there. She was eager to start her day. She settled in at her desk and started to work. She glanced up when she saw Brandon walk past. She stopped what she was doing immediately and picked up the coffee cup she had sitting on her desk. Following Brandon to his office, she closed the door behind her and put the cup on his desk. He didn’t say a word to her as she did it. He tossed his coat at her, and she caught it and hung it in his closet.

He sat down at his desk and ignored her. She was thrown by his attitude. He was usual cordial to her, especially on a Monday morning. Often he made her get down on her knees and suck him off before he began working. But not today.

“Um, Sir?” she asked tentatively. “Should I go back to my desk?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” she responded automatically. “If you need anything, I am more than happy to oblige you.”

“Of course. Go.”

His abrupt dismissal bothered her, but she went back to her desk and tried to get some work done. She found that she had a lot of trouble focusing. By the time she was packing up for lunch, she was nearly out of her mind. She couldn’t believe that Brandon hadn’t called her into his office for something. He usually would text her if he wanted something and her phone had been right on her desk all day, and yet it stayed silent.

They both had an hour break for lunch, and she expected to be told what to do. Often, Brandon would drive her to a deserted parking lot so they could fuck in the car.

She went to his office door five minutes before lunch and knocked lightly. “Come in,” he barked. She entered and shut the door behind herself. Glancing around, she saw that they were indeed alone.

“Sir?” she asked, drawing his attention from his computer.

“What do you want?” He looked back at the screen in front of him.

“I-I,” she stammered, “I wanted to know how I could please you today.” She knew that she should be relieved that he didn’t want to use her today, but she couldn’t summon that emotion. She just felt dismayed at the change in her routine.

“There’s nothing you can do for me today.”

“Please, Sir, did I do something wrong?”

He looked up at her and took off his glasses, and then dropped his head into his hand. “No, pet, you didn’t do anything wrong. Come here,” he directed, and he reached his other hand out to her.

She went to him eagerly, kneeling down to the side of him, behind his desk. He ran his hand through her hair, and she felt comforted by his touch. She didn’t dare speak. She didn’t know what to say anyway, so she stayed silent, and as the moments passed, he just continued to stroke her hair gently.

“I’m sorry, pet. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Things are stressful at work and home.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she murmured. “What can I do to help?” She was surprised he had said things were stressful at work. Although they worked on different projects, they held the same position, and she hadn’t heard about anything bad going on.

“Nothing right now. I don’t know if I can come over after work today, though.”

She couldn’t stop her body jerking in surprise.

“I will try.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied. Brandon was married to a witch of a woman who hardly ever had sex with him and never attended to his needs. He had never told her why he stayed with his wife and given their relationship she hadn’t felt that she could ask. He had explained to her that he told his wife he had a weekly poker game with the guys from work on Mondays and that was why he never came home until late at night. She wondered what had happened that would pull him out of his routine.

“Go now. I have to work through lunch.”

She was disappointed, and she was sure she wasn’t hiding it well. “Yes, Sir.”

She was halfway to the door before he spoke, “Wait!” She stopped at his word and turned back. He stood and reached out to her. “Come here,” he said, and she did. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. As their lips touched, fire rushed to her toes, and she kissed back with all the passion and uncertainty she had inside her.

It was at that moment that their boss chose to open the door.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.

Welcome to my A to Z Challenge Blog! Like or comment on this post, or vote at the end of the week for your favorites and I’ll continue the top four stories next month! (For details, see my Theme Reveal.) For the first week, my theme is kinky stories. Come back for Week 2 (Romantic), Week 3 (Anything Goes), or Week 4 (Non-consent). Without further ado, enjoy A is for Anniversary.

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It was Tuesday, and on Tuesdays, I always went out with my friends. But this particular Tuesday was our wedding anniversary. Eight years. Wow. Time flies. I planned to come home early on our anniversary so we could spend some time together. Specifically, so we could have some hot kinky sex. There’s never enough hot kinky sex.

But every marriage has its downfalls, right? Ours was time and stress. Things outside our marriage were so stressful and time-consuming that hot kinky sex got put on the back burner for a while. But tonight I had a plan to fix that. I bought a lovely anniversary card for him. One of the good sappy ones that bring a tear to your eye when you read it. And inside the card, I placed some index cards.

What are the index cards for, you ask?

Each one had a different kinky act on it. The idea was that I would be ready for my husband down in our basement bedroom after he opened the card. On the envelope, I wrote, “Open at 10:30.” I glanced at the clock in the bedroom. I had 5 minutes.

@}–}—–

I had spent the whole evening planning out our night in my head, and my thong was dripping with my arousal. I got out some items that I hoped he would use with me. I laid them out carefully on the bed. Then I pulled my panties down and shoved them in my mouth. I knew that I would likely be screaming by the end of the caning I was guaranteed to get, and I needed to muffle my screams. I wanted to take away as many senses as I could, so I put earplugs in that were attached to my phone. The music made it so that I couldn’t hear anything happening in the room. I put a spreader bar on my ankles and then strapped my wrists into handcuffs. It took some maneuvering to get the cuffs on, but I was successful. Practice makes perfect! Last, but not least, I managed to get the blindfold down over my eyes with my bound hands.

Then I laid the upper half of my naked body down on the bed and stuck my ass in the air. And I waited. And waited.

@}–}—–

With the blindfold on, I had no idea if he came down precisely at the time I had asked him to, but it didn’t matter. I would have waited for him forever.

I could hear the door open though, and then his footsteps on the stairs. I assumed he had pulled the numbered cards out of the envelope and was now coming down to see if I had done all that I said I would. (I had, of course.)

He took his sweet time getting ready, making the anticipation that much worse for me. And then it happened. The first swat came with a bite because the paddle I had pulled out had little rubber nubs to make more of an impact. The first card asked him to paddle me 100 times. I counted as he beat my ass, first left, then right, then left again, and so on. He struck me 100 times. I felt his warm hand on my ass that must be pink and was definitely tender. He pulled me up by my right shoulder, and I was standing next to him.

The second card asked him to put the nipple clamps on so that the chain between the clamps wrapped around the chain on my handcuffs. If I weren’t careful, I would pull on the nipple clamps, which would make them tighter. He turned me to face him and pinched my nipples a couple of times until they were standing at attention. Then he put the clamps on. I had worn them many times, but it was intense with no sight and no sound. He turned me back to the bed and gave my shoulder a gentle push. As I reached my hands out to catch myself, the pull on my nipples was insane. I cried out against the panties in my mouth.

Once I had settled myself on the bed, awkwardly positioning my hands so that the pull was as limited as possible, I felt the air from the cane right before it hit me. He started light. I tried to count, but I lost track. The third card asked him to cane me for five minutes. I had no concept of time as he whacked the cane against my ass over and over again. He worked on the left side for a while, then the right. He would stick with a steady rhythm and then there would be a couple of really hard hits. I knew the hardest ones would leave welts. My nipples and my ass would be sore the next day, which was my intention.

When he was done, he pulled me upright by my shoulder. I wasn’t fast enough, and my wrists pulled away from my body, pulling the nipple clamps. I moaned. He turned me around, and pulled my hands away from my body, forcing the nipple clamps to pinch as tight as possible. I cried out, but he didn’t stop. When he finally let go, my arms flew to my chest, although the pain in my nipples didn’t subside.

He turned me again and pushed me so that I lay back on the bed. The fourth card asked to be allowed to cum with a vibrator. I had put the Hitachi wand out and plugged it in, so I hoped he would use that. He did. I felt the vibrations go right through me. It was so intense, and I was so turned on that I knew it wasn’t going to take long. The card had also asked if I could take the clamps off as I orgasmed. I asked him to smack my thigh three times, right for yes, left for no. He hit my right thigh, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

As my orgasm overtook me, I twisted my wrists around so I could take the clamps off. The rush of blood when I took them off was painful, but the pain spurred on my orgasm. I panted and moaned and screamed, but it was all muffled through the thong in my mouth.

We were down to one last card. I felt him free my ankles and then he removed my handcuffs. The blindfold and earplugs came next. Finally, he pulled the panties out and tossed them aside. His hand closed around my throat, and he pressed just enough to make it thrilling for me. I could still breathe easily, though it came out like a rasp. His hard cock entered my dripping pussy, and I spasmed at the intrusion. I moaned softly as his cock filled me. He began fucking me hard, his hand still wrapped around my throat. I felt another orgasm approaching. As my pussy clenched around him, I felt his cock spasm as we came together.

We collapsed together, panting, wet, and, in my case, sore. “Happy Anniversary,” I whispered.

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Thanks for checking out my blog. Don’t forget to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. If you’re interested in reading more of my work, check out my Choose Your Own Erotic Adventure: Runaway, or my debut BDSM Erotic Novel: Slave.