The Knife

Once upon a time, I knew a lovely lady who had a thing for the cold touch of steel on her skin. The more intimate the area, the wetter she would get. She could cum almost with the touch of the point to her nipple. Her clit would bounce if you scrapped it just so. She must have snuck into my dreams last night…


My focus was on a cable that seemed unwilling to give up the plastic shroud that covered the wires underneath, so I was not paying any attention to the rest of the activity on the stage behind me until I hear the cry and then thunk. I looked over my shoulder to see Ali squirming on the floor. Several others crowded around her. I went back to my cable until I hear the cry for help.

“Anyone got a knife, or a really sharp pair of scissors?” one of the hands cried out.

“I do,” I said, as I stood up.

I walked over to the scene and looked down. Ali’s face was turning a funny shade of blue. My steps quickened as I dropped to my knees next to her. Somehow she had gotten a piece of fishing line wrapped around her neck and arms in such away that when she moved, she strangled herself.

“Back, everyone back,” I said as I pulled my blade out of my pocket.

“It’s OK Ali. Hang on breath slowly, small sips. You will feel the knife blade against your neck. It’s OK.”

“As I talked I watched her eyes. They went from panic stricken to relaxed to something else I did not immediately identify. As the steel touched her skin, I caught a gentle flare of her nostrils. As the dull side slid along the skin over her pulse, I watched it jump in her neck.

“Relax Ali, relax. This might hurt a bit.”

Her eyes fluttered as the blade slipped under the line and it bit into the other side of her neck.

“Damn,” I said.

I slid the knife back and released the tension. There was a gentle sheen of sweat on her forehead and upper lip as the blade rested against her. I looked around the set for something to pad the other side.

“Jim, grab the first aid kit. I need a couple of gauze pads. Don’t open the packages, just toss them over.”

“Hang on, Ali, just another minute.”

She nodded with her eyes, trying to stay relaxed. I picked the blade up again and moved it out of the way. Ali whimpered and closed her eyes. Everyone was focused on Jim. I looked at Ali.

“The knife?”

As as said it, I slid the dull side back against her neck. Ali relaxed and stiffened at the same time as I slid it along her neck. Her pulse beat strongly under its touch.

“It excites you?”

She shivered strongly under my touch.

“Here you go, Mick,” Jim said as he thrust the packages into my hand.

I folded one and put it under the opposite side between her skin and the line. If my motions seemed slow, calculated, I was hoping that everyone else would think I was just being careful, rather than continuing to raise the sexual tension in Ali’s body. I could only drag it out so long and deftly cut the line, releasing her enough that we could begin to untangle her. Ali kept hold of my hands as the others carefully pulled the line back from her body. I could see a bit of pleading in her eyes as she looked down at her hands. There was line wrapped around her wrists. I teasingly played the point of the blade along her thumb before moving it into position to cut through the line. She whimpered a bit as I did this and squeezed the hand she held.

“All clear,” Jim said as he and two others stuffed the line into a garbage pail.

“Thanks. You OK now?” I asked as we helped Ali to the couch on set.

She kept hold of my hand the entire way as I slowly folded my blade and put it away. I watched her eyes follow it all the way.

“When you are feeling better, shall we play some more,” I whispered as we sat down.

Ali answered by running her hand along the inside of my thigh, before she found my cock under my jeans and squeezed it gently. I kissed the top of her head as others took over to nurse her while I went back to working on my wire which finally gave up it’s fight and let me secure it to the plug.

“Gail, this one’s done,” I said, passing it up to her.

We ignored the activity on stage. Despite Ali’s incident, we still had to get things ready, so I kept working on my part and tried not to think about Ali. At least not too much. Something about her fetish had turned me on too. Not that I could ever hurt her. Ali was a sweet, sexy little thing, but none of us would do anything to hurt her.

“Mick, we need some more ten gage,” Rick said from his location in crow’s nest.

“With or without plugs?”

“What good is it without plugs?” he called.

I just shrugged. I could think of numerous things he could do with ten gage wire, but if he needed suggestions, I was not going to give them to him.

“Be there in a bit. How many?”

“Six by six.”

I waved at him and walked down the stairs and into the back hall, around a corner and down another set of stairs to the bowels of the theater were you could find a little of everything. We had a small walled off area where we kept the electrics. When we worked, the door was unlocked and I pulled it open. There was a light overhead but I left it off as I walked to the back wall and pulled down the six foot extension Rick wanted.

“Thank you,” Ali said.

She wrapped her hands around my waist and hugged me from behind. I turned around without her letting me go and she hugged me again and pressed her soft body against me. I slipped my hands around her and held her close. She looked up at me and our lips moved together. Her kiss was sweet and soft with just a little tongue as her hands held me tight.

“I have to get back,” she said quietly,” but I had an orgasm just as you released my hands.”

She kissed me again and slipped away. I did not know what to say, so I picked up my cords and went back upstairs.


Opening night arrived as it always does. Most of us hide out backstage as the actors take their bows, and I hide more than most. I had a second hideaway behind the electrics cabinet that I often retired to when the main play began. I thought that no one knew about my hiding place, but I was wrong. I was watching a movie on my iPad when a shadow indicated someone was there. I looked up and saw Ali looking back at me. She smiled softly at me. She wore a white blouse and short kilt with ballet flats on her feet.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

I sat up and left a spot on the couch for her to sit down. She could sit as close or as far away from me as she wanted. Ali elected to sit astride my lap where she wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her tongue in my mouth. I gasped as I shoved my tongue back against her and rested my hands on her hips before I reached around a squeezed her ass. She moaned back into my mouth as she ground her crotch against mine.

“Someone’s excited this evening,” I said.

“Oh fuck yes. I keep thinking about the edge of your blade touching my skin, which makes me wet, so I have to play with myself, and it starts again.”

She ground against me against and kissed me.

“Please tell me you have your knife on you.”

“I did.”

“We have three hours. Cut these clothes off of me, slowly. I want to cum hard, each time you touch me. Tie my hands up and pound me, then cut me loose.”

“Sure we can do all that in three hours?”

“How many people come down here?”

“During opening night? No, one, and I have padded the room. If I slide the panel closed, no one should hear us even if they do.”

“Then who cares how long it takes.”

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Photographs and Memories

Just a little scene that passed through my waking dreams last night…


He wished he had more photographs of her. That was only one of several thoughts that went through his head as he put his clothes away.

“Do hurry up,” she said from behind him.

She sat on the edge of the bed in a very unladylike pose. Her feet rested on the edge of the frame. Her knees raised above a right angle and her womanly charms fully exposed to anyone who looked at her straight on, which, at the moment, he was not doing. Her nipples were erect in the fresh evening air. Just looking at her made his cock harden. He quickly finished up and walked back into the room.

“What were you thinking about,” she asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stepped up between her legs. She pulled him close and kissed him, their tongues battling as his cock swelled.

“I was thinking I wished I had more pictures of you,” he said between their kisses.

She reached down and wrapped his cock in her hand. She played the head of it up and down over her clit, a sexy smile on her face.

“Get your camera. Take as many pictures as you want, then shave my cunny bald and take more until your cock is oozing so hard you have to ram it inside of me while we make a video. What do you think about that?”

He knew his cock leapt in her hand, and they both laughed.

“You have to let me go, first,” he said.

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Really, I Tried To Write

It really is 0130 on a Sunday morning, and I really am awake, but I am sitting under a pop-up canopy in a local park helping with an overnight ultramarathon run. These people are crazy, frankly, but all the lithe runner bodies got me thinking, and since I was awake anyway, maybe I could write something. After several false starts, however, all I can come up with is remembering a story a former lover once told me.

She came home early; I do not remember why and found her then-husband home as well. For some reason, she did not slam the door and announced her presence as she would typically have done. She thought he was in the spare room but not finding him there she crept to the bedroom. Something caught her attention before she barged into the room. Maybe it was the way the door sat partially closed, perhaps it was a shadow on the wall, but she paused and looked through the gap. What she saw horrified her, at least initially.

He laid on the bed, stark naked. His hand wrapped around his erection, and he stroked it rhythmically. What horrified her, beyond the fact he was masturbating, something she had never seen him do, much less caught him at, was that he was masturbating himself with a pair of her satin panties. She would see flashes of purple as he grunted and moved his cock in his hand or his hand over his cock.

She told me she was ready to storm into the room and demand he stops the deviant behavior (she had a pretty strict upbringing apparently), but she could not bring herself to do it. The more she watched, the more she realized how much the show turned her on. She got wet watching him pull at his cock. She found that she would touch herself, and gasp at how hard her nipples had become, and how sensitive. The more she pinched her nipples through her bra, the wetter she got and the more she needed to pinch her nipples. Because this was all before she had discovered toys herself, her options were limited to shoving a hand down her pants and fingering her own clit, something she told me she had only done once or twice in her life before this point. She realized that they were both about to cum. She stared at his cock as the seamen spurted out of the now swollen purple head and onto the material of her panties. The more he stroked, the more cum poured out and soaked into the panties, both the ones in his hand and the ones valiantly trying to cover her own swollen love organ.

At last, he collapsed against the bed, and his hand fell to the side. She watched his cock deflate, still covered in the satin material. She quickly let herself back out of the apartment and dashed to her car to calm down, as well as give him time to pull himself together before she came home again.

I remember that as she told me this story, she handed me a pair of her panties, a pair that I had said looked good on her. She encouraged me to wrap them around my now firm erection as she watched. The more I stroked, the more her nipples hardened. The closer I got, the faster her hand moved between her naked thighs until we were both climaxing together. Just as my cum bubbled to the top of my cock, she sucked the head into her mouth, and I shot down her throat as she frigged her clit. It was a rather remarkable scene I remember, and not the last time she would ask me to perform for her.

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Undressing Without Me?

You know how much I like to watch.

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A New Story To Write

I wonder what it will say?

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I Like The View

I wish it was you, and it was only the beginning.

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Out For A Stroll

It was late enough in the morning that the commuters had already vacated the neighborhood, and early enough that the soccer moms had not yet stirred beyond their doors. Most of the houses were locked up, blinds down, ready for the day. It was also early enough that the heat of the coming day had only just begun to show its power. I used to take the dog for a walk along this route, but those days were past. Still, I needed to get my exercise, and as much as I dislike exercise, it was a nice walk.

I noticed her long before she saw me. I doubt she knew I was there until we were almost across from each other. She was so involved in the phone conversation she was having. She wore a t-shirt from the local University and short, loose shorts that barely covered her shapely ass where it rested against the bumper of the car in the driveway. She had no shoes, and her hair looked like she had just gotten out of bed. I would not have given her a second look, except that her free hand kept sliding along her thigh. As I got closer, I noted that she would slip a finger up inside the leg of her shorts. It would disappear for a moment then reappear as her hand pushed back down her leg. As I drew closer, it was clear her breasts were unencumbered as her nipples tented the front of her t-shirt. Her eyes flicked up towards me as her finger disappeared again. She winked at me, said something, then looked at me again. Her finger was still inside her shorts, and now I was parallel with her. I could see what she did. Her thumb stroked one puffy pussy lip. She winked again and pulled the finger out of her shorts. She held her finger up to her lips, urging me to silence, then looked around quickly. A large hedge lined the driveway on one side. She said something, then hung up the phone. She moved to the hedge side of the car, where she was shielded from the windows of the house and wiggled her finger for me to follow.

I moved up the driveway and stood a foot or so away from her. She smiled again and pulled the leg of her shorts up, then slipped her finger under and across her nether lips. She shuttered slightly, then looked down. She made a small moue when she saw that I was missing some of the show. She pulled her finger out. It glistened with her moisture, and she licked it quickly before she pushed her shorts down to her knees. Her pussy was bare, swollen with pleasure, and wet. She slid her hand back down and slipped a finger between her lips. She circled her clit, and a low moan escaped her lips. I could see the muscles in her legs twitch with pleasure and an effort to support her weight. I heard the sounds of squishing flesh as her passion increased, and her pussy oozed more of her juice. Her eyes were lidded. She was lost in her own world while her hand moved with increased speed. She alternated between sliding fingers inside while she pinched and poked her clit. Her orgasm built quickly, and she covered her mouth with her other arm as she cried out. She muffled the sound as she bent over. She dropped her arm and panted. I could see the teeth marks from where she had mashed it against her mouth. She pulled her hand out from between her legs. It glistened in the early sunshine.

She winked at me again, then smiled, before she pulled her shorts back up to her waist. She crooked her finger at me, and I stepped forward. When I was arm’s length away, she offered one of her wet fingers. I sucked it clean, tasting her fresh dew. She slipped her hand around my head and pulled me forward. We kissed slowly, quickly, our tongues danced before she let me go. She pulled her phone up, tapped a couple of buttons then passed it to me. I got the message and typed in my number before I passed it back to her. She kissed me again quickly and then went back into her house while I went back to my stroll.

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The Talent

It was the third day of a long session, and I could hear the fatigue in her voice. It mirrored my own on the other side of the glass. My ears hurt from more than twenty hours under the cans, and my back was sore, regardless of how comfortable the chair under my ass had been when we started. The lady on the other side of the glass had a sultry voice. Despite the long hours, I could listen to it forever. She was not eye candy by anyone’s definition, but I thought she could hold her own. She had some beautiful curves and a pretty face, although the mic and some baffles partially obscured it at the moment. When her voice hitched, I had been staring off into space, looking at the script but not seeing it. She stopped and looked at me. I hit pause on the recording, then flipped the switch.

“Start again at the paragraph?” I asked as I backed up the virtual head and made a mark.

“Yes, please,” she said.

She settled herself, and I opened the line between us as I rested my fingers on the control switch.

“Three, two,…,”

I pushed record on the two count, and she took a breath on the quiet one count and started again. I watched her as she read from the teleprompter. When she recorded, she tended to stand straight, her hands relaxed at her sides and slightly away from her body. She had worn jeans and a t-shirt for the first couple of days. Today, she had no desire to dress up any more than needed. She had tossed the jeans for yoga pants, and the t-shirt was considerably looser than previous days. It obscured her curves, yet highlighted them as well. At first, I was not sure what I was witnessing. Her hand moved up and seemed to trace the inner curve of her breast. She did this a couple of times, and I heard her breath hitch. I smiled slightly as I hit the pause again.

“Want to do that again?” I asked over the speaker.

“Yes,” she said.

I counted down, and she began again. Again, she started to caress her breast. Her hand moved outward, and her nail passed over where I estimated her nipple was. There was no hiding the hitch in her voice this time as she dropped her hand. I looked up to her eyes, and they smiled back at me.

“From the top?” I asked over the intercom.

“Sure. Give me a five count?” she asked.

“Just a second.”

I fiddled a couple of settings and moved my finger over the trigger.

“And five, four….”

At four, her hands grasped the hem of her shirt. At three, she pulled it up and over in a practiced move. She had my full attention as I hit the trigger at one. The shirt floated to the ground, and she started reading again, but her hands were not idle. She brought both of them up to her breasts where they hid behind a white cotton bra. Her nipples poked out through the material, and she quickly raked them with her nails. She moved from scraping them to flicking them. Her voice faltered and was replaced promptly by heavy breathing, gasps, and moans. She rolled her nipples between her fingers. Her eyes fluttered, and any pretense of recording the script in front of her was gone. She gasped again and moved her hands to cup and squeeze her breasts. Her eyes opened, and she looked at me, where I looked at her. She smiled, then winked. I stopped the recording.

“That was a take,” I said with a smile.

“I think I can do better,” she said.

“You’re the talent,” I said with a shrug and a smile.

“Five count again, please,” she asked.

“Coming up. In five….”

At four, her hands slipped behind her back, and at three, her bra came loose. At two, it fell to the floor, and by one, there was no pretense of recording her lines as she squeezed her breasts and pulled on her nipples. Her breasts were lovely to look at, and her nipples sat on her puffy areola. Her moans echoed through my headphones as she pleasured herself. A rosy glow spread across her chest and moved up towards her neck, a sign of how much she was enjoying this session. Her head fell back as she sighed long and deep. Her hands moved back to squeeze her breasts as she looked at me again through the glass.

“I liked that,” she said.

I pushed pause on the recording.

“Worked for me, too,” I said with a smile.

“Can I try something different?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Have you been recording all of this?”

“Except our conversations, yes.”

“Good. Five count again, please?”

“Here we go.”

I gave the five. At three, she slid a hand down her body, and by one, her hand was inside her pants. From where I sat, I watched her hand slip between her legs, and I could imagine her fingers slid over her lips and clit. Her breath came in short gasps and alternated with moans of pleasure as she focused on her pussy. Her nipples seemed to swell as she did this. She pinched her nipple, and her cry was a long gasp that put the needles into the red for a minute. She gasped as she pulled her hand out of her pants and looked at me. She licked her finger, seductively.

“You want to do that again?” I asked.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Give me a second?”

“Take your time.”

She nodded, then took her headphones off. She looked around the room before she walked over to the stool in the corner. She pulled it over to her mark, then bend down and pulled her shoes off. She had my complete attention as I watch her. She slipped her socks off and put them on her shoes.

“How sensitive is this mic?” she asked.

“It’s focused around your voice. When you scratch your neck, I can hear it, but much below that is lost to it.”

“OK.”

She squared herself to my view and made sure I was watching. She put her hands in the waistband of her pant and then pushed them down, slowly. She had nice hips. Her pussy hair was trimmed, and there was a faint tan line where her bathing suit may have rested at one point. Her skin overall was pale but had been tanned at least once in the past. Her pants slid over her knees, and she pushed them off her feet. She brushed off the top of the stool before she shimmied her ass up onto it. She put the headphones back on, hooked one foot around one of the legs, and rested another on one of the cross rungs. She was as naked as the day she was born. She settled herself, so she knew I had a perfect view of her body. I could see the moisture on her lips.

“Ready?” she asked.

I swallowed, then stood up before I undid my pants and pushed them down to my knees. My cock stood up and out.

“Yes, you certainly are,” she said. “Five count, please?”

By one, she had her hands on her breasts again. I moved my hand from the board to my cock as I watched her. She squeezed her breasts again before she moved her hand to her pussy. I watched as she slid a finger along her legs before she slipped it over her pussy lips. I listened, watched, and stroked as she circled her clit, panted, and moaned. Her clit turned rosy under her ministrations. The head of my cock purpled. She squeezed her nipple, and my cock oozed with desire. She slipped a finger inside her before she slid two fingers over her clit. She mauled it as her breath came in ragged gasps. She cried out, sending the levels into the red. She panted and cried out.

“Now, now, now,” she cried.

That was all I needed, and cum poured out of the head of my cock. I managed to keep it from hitting the board, but only just as my knees gave out and I slumped back into the chair.

“How was that,” she asked between gulps of air.

“I need a smoke,” I said with a laugh.”

She laughed too as she looked at me.

“I think I am done for the day,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“Shall we do this again tomorrow?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“You may need to wire another microphone in here though. We want to make sure we get all the ambient noises.”

“I will make sure it is properly placed before you get here.”

“If you wait, you won’t have to guess.”

“Then, I will see you tomorrow. I would hate to get it wrong.”

As we talked, she pulled her clothes back on. I cleaned up the room and made sure the recordings were locked away safely until I could get them parsed out safely.

“Have a great evening,” she said as she picked up her bag.

“You too.”

The Talent has their entrance. She slipped out the door, and it closed quietly behind her as I cleaned up the debris from the day and let myself out of the studio. I was already thinking about what tomorrow might bring as I caught a cab and headed uptown.

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Saturday Sex Tip

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How Often?

How often do you find yourself reaching to send a message, but pull back. How often do you get as far as composing the message, only to drop it in the bitbucket, rather than send it. I am getting better. It is only a couple of times a day now. So I guess I am getting better. Maybe I can get it down to only a couple of times a year. But I doubt it.

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