Happy Valentine’s Day

Even to those who do not celebrate the day. We all need some love at this time of year.

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As the sun came up, these thoughts occured

The knock on the door roused him from his slumber. The clock on the nightstand said it was just past midnight. Outside a gentle rain fell against the windows. He had thought to ignore the knock, but it came again. He grumbled under his breath as he got out of bed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants before he walked the short distance to the door. The woman on the other side of the door stood waiting, her hands crossed in front of her. He sighed, then opened the door.

“Good morning. What brings you by so early?”

She smiled up at him. She knew the smile would alleviate any hard feelings he might have for waking him.

“I thought I should at least say thank you for dinner.”

“You did,” he said waving her in and closing the door behind her. “Can I get you anything?”

He took her coat from her as she slipped it from her shoulders and hung it up before she walked over and sat on the couch. She crossed her legs and looked up at him.


He walked over and sat down next to her.

“You seemed to have left in a hurry, and I wondered why?”

“Did I? Sorry. It’s been a busy week.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“No, not really.”

“Because, I got all dressed up, and I was looking forward to you undressing me,” she said with a smile.

He smirked back at her.

“You have rebuffed my advances to date and given how tired I was, I just did not feel like bringing it up tonight. Again, sorry.”

“It’s OK,” she said with a smile.

Her hand moved across the space between them and she squeezed his thigh gently. Her touch kindled a small flame inside him. Small muscles twitched inside his body.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Numerous things.”

“Like what? Tell me.”

“I was thinking I would like to take pictures of you. Centerfold level pictures. I wondered what you taste like. If you’d ever been tied up. What your hands would feel like on my body.”

She smiled again, then stood up, and indicated he should join her. She rested her hands on his shoulders before she ran them down his arms and back up again. He then rested his hands on her shoulders and repeated the motion before she stepped into his embrace and kissed him. The distance between them closed as they pressed their bodies against each other. She ran her hands along his bare skin as he cupped her ass through her dress.

“Tell me about these pictures…,” she whispered.

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Cold in the Morning

As I sit outside (don’t ask, it’s a long story), I had a chance to finish another story, and since it is National Novel Writing Month, let me announce the effort that I undertook this month. Not one story, but a series of short stories, and scripts, just to be different. So, without further ado, the NaNo 2019 stories for your enjoyment. Check back in December to see what has been added.

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Trying to get some inspiration

I have not written much lately. In fact, I have barely written a scene. So I am searching around for inspiration. Here is what I have so far for stories that have not been written. If you have suggestions, please, sing out!

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Porn is Boring

Maybe I am getting old. Maybe I have seen too much. Maybe it is a combination of both. Maybe it is something else, but lately I am finding that porn is boring. It could also be that there is so much of it out there, that any quality, or anything with excitement is lost in the morass of … well … more ass. And you do not have to look far to find an ass, or any other part of the human anatomy wedge, slapped, stuck, or inserted into any other part of the human anatomy, and even parts that probably should not be used that way.

I do not watch a lot of porn, really. My imagination is generally more than sufficient for my needs, but occasionally you want to see what the other guy/girl/strange furry animal(?) is up to, just in case there is something new under the sun. While I have not reached the end of the Internet, I can safely say, I have not found anything new under the sun. But I have found a couple of things I would really like to unsee now, please, thanks.

But right now, the stuff that is out there is dull, dull, dull. At least I am not paying for it.

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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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