Deadly Ever After

Archive for the tag “Stories to Strip By”

Devilish Desires and Zoey Derrick Cover Reveal

Devilish Desires

Today’s Brew: Julie’s French Toast.  Sorry Julie.  I’m enjoying it more than I usually do. 🙂

Today we wrap up our guest appearances feature of Stories To Strip By with a bang.  During our first short story exposition, The Nightmares Before Christmas, Zoey debuted Devilish Desire.  She enjoyed writing the story so much that not only does she offer the second installment of the story for your reading pleasure today, but Zoey is also thrilled to announce that she is developing Devilish Desire into a full length novel!  Here is your first chance to sneak a peak at the cover!

ZD-Cover4

Cover Art completed by Olivia Rivers with permissions outlined here; http://olivia212.deviantart.com/#/d5suzi3

Olivia is a member of the Twitter community and can be found https://twitter.com/RiversOlivia
Release date: Right now Devilish Desire is on my list to follow Finding Love’s Wings and the best release date I can say is Fall/Winter 2013.

Now, without further ado, here is Devilish Desires by Zoey Derrick:

The time that has come to pass since Christmas is a blur. I remember Christmas clearly, my friends and my family are clear, but when I think back to the vision and look at the pictures, there’s a void. A missing piece, not just mentally, but physically. When you look at pictures, there is a gap between people, and not just an area of space, but an object has been removed from the image. I had a distinct feeling that what ever was there bares no reflection and camera’s look past its presence.

The more I think about it, the more the pain comes. It wreaks havoc on my heart, and tears through my brain like burning fire. Something somewhere has been lost. Most days, I don’t think about it, and most days, I feel as though I can remember, but today is different. Today is Valentine’s and the ache of lonely emptiness plays with my soul.

Since Christmas so much has changed, my eating habits are over the top and I eat just about anything in site. Being the girl that has always had problems with weight, I have learned over the years the important necessities of diet and self-control. Though lately, the times have changed. If I crave a chocolate bar, I eat it. A big greasy cheeseburger smothered in mushrooms, bacon and onions, a big juicy rare steak, all of it, I consume without a second thought and I hate red meat. But what is strange and has me concerned is that I don’t change. I haven’t gained a pound, my hair is still the same length and my nails haven’t lost the last manicure I had nearly three months ago. It’s almost as if I have been frozen in time, yet moving forward from one day to the next.

Despite my feelings of emptiness, I always feel like I’m not alone. Like someone is watching me. Deep down inside my soul, something is telling me that whatever is watching me will not be hindered by locked doors, windows, light blocking curtains, and a security system.

Despite the business of the bakery and all the people at the dinner that I work at, I’m off today. No one even bothered to ask me to work for them, which was surprising because most of the women I work with are either married or deeply involved with their significant others. Maybe the money is better tonight and I really am missing out. Come to think of it, I have been at work most days and it seems as though most people are ignoring me. The conversations we once had have been nearly non-existent.

It’s just another thing to add to the growing list of weird.

As I’m dwelling on the fact that I appear invisible to the people around me, I enter my apartment. All the lights are off, that’s weird, I swear I left the light above the stove on before I left this morning. Maybe it burnt out. As I reach for the light switch near the door the lights flicker on.

I scream.

“Sh Nyssa, it’s me.” That voice, I know that voice, somewhere deep down inside my very being, I know this voice. I feel his arms embrace me, cuddling me close to his body. Gently caressing my hair.

Every fiber of my being is warning me to scream and kick and fight, but my fight is gone. His embrace is warm and welcoming and I can’t help but be coddled by his touch. “Wha…Who…who are you?” I manage to sputter.

I feel his hand cradle my forehead and in an instant a mountain of images come flooding back to me. An onslaught of images of Christmas, the dark warmth, the chains, being restrained, being tortured in so many delicious ways. All the laughing and crying, a feeling of complete happiness washed over me as I take in the images of a tall beautiful man, a man that I love, he has returned.

“Link.” I breathed and turned my head ever so slightly, my lips searching for his, and they found their purchase, kissing him ignited a raging inferno throughout my body, an inferno of desire, of necessity and need. I managed to turn in his arms and I wrapped my arms around his neck, while bringing my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to my body. This is the reason I feel lonely and confusion quickly swarms my brain. I want answers, I need to know where he has been and why he has left me alone. But, in this moment, I don’t care. Right now I need him, with me, in me.

He picks me up off of the floor and carries me down the hall to my room. I notice that he is moving slower than his usual pace and I am puzzled by this revelation. “Link?” I ask, breathless from our kiss.

He looks at me and answers my unspoken question. “I must savor you. I cannot allow my short time with you to be rushed. I only have tonight, Valentine’s night and then I must leave you once again.” I felt unwelcome tears start streaming down my cheeks.

“Link, it’s not fair, why must you go? I want to come with you. I need you.”

“In due time my love, you will stand by my side for eternity, but for tonight, I must have you. Here and now.” He reached the door to my bedroom and as the door opened, I caught the glimmer of flames and the sparkling of crystal as he crossed the threshold. Here in my room, on every surface including the floor were the petals of black and red roses, surrounding the vases from which dozens of long steam, in full bloom, roses of red and black stood in all their glory. Surrounding those vases were candles of white and black and the fresh floral scent that filled the room was like an aphrodisiac coating my senses and pooling in my core.

“Link, it’s beautiful.” I breathed. “Thank you.” And once again my lips found his and we melted into a tangle of lips, tongues, arms, clothes, and all kinds of nakedness.

Once we were naked he laid me out on the bed with expert care. His body hovered over mine, shoulders strong and straining against his skin. The muscles of his arms and chest were in perfect form as he held himself above me. My hands gently stroke up and down his arms, across his chest, down his stomach, around his hips to his tight, finely tuned arse that fits perfectly into my hands. I tug, trying desperately to bring him closer to me, trying to bring him inside me.

He lets out a low chuckle and in one quick burst of movement he is buried inside me, to the hilt. I can feel the curve of his balls smack against the crack of my ass and I moan. I’m full, he has filled me completely in one movement. His girth should have had me torn in half but I accepted him willingly and without pain.

Without moving inside me, he rears up and pulls at both my legs so that my feet come up towards his mouth and he licks, then nips, at the pad of my big toe and the sensation sends my mind into a tailspin of wonton desire for him. Finally he begins to slowly slide in and out. The motion is painstakingly slow as my desire builds harder and deeper. I can feel my sex turn slippery and wet as he slowly picks up his pace.

Once satisfied that my body is fully responding to him, he gently lays my legs down on the bed so I’m laying on my right side. My shoulders remain square on the bed as he runs his hand over my engorged nipple, wanting and needing to be touched, and licked. His hand continues downward and lingers along my stomach. A look of pure raw devotion crosses his features, a manner that, in my pre-orgasmic state, I cannot comprehend. “So beautiful.” He breaths as his pace increases. I feel the warmth of his hand across my belly, but no pressure. I look down to where our sexes are meeting in pure raw passion. Though I can feel his hand, he is not actually touching me.

He leans down and begins licking, sucking, and biting at my breasts and he quickly takes a nipple into his mouth. The sensation is so intense that my orgasm is building to unmanageable proportions. I’m going to explode, there is no other definition for what he is doing to me. “Cum for me beautiful, cum now.” He growled and my orgasm erupted from deep inside. My eyes close involuntary and he brings his hand down, hard, along the bubble of my ass and my eyes fly open. “Look at me. I need to see you.” The stars continue to fall in front of my eyes and I watch as his growling intensifies and his body begins to morph from the beautiful pale face I fell in love with, into the bright red eyed, dark black skinned, bald beast that has become a part of who I am. His horns become visible from the peak of his now absent hairline. A normal person would be scared stiff, but I, I caress his beautiful face, because even in this form, he is still beautiful.

I feel his need and desire pour into my body as his orgasm rocks his body. His in and out motion slows, but I can still feel his erection, as hard has it was when we started. Slowly he morphs back into the beautiful, violet eyed, long jet-black hair, strong-jawed man that I love.

Follow Zoey on Twitter and check out her Blog!

Advertisements

Stranger by Jillian Marques

Windows Live
 TODAY’S BREW: So much Hazelnut my body will weep with need for water.
My long time friend Jillian Marques has been kind and brave enough to give us her first attempt at writing for Stories To Strip By! Wait until you see this, and like me, beg her for more. Follow Jill on twitter @j_moo107.
STRANGER
by Jillian Marques

I spent most of my walk home thinking about how I needed more excitement in my life. I mean… Here I am. 30. I work too much. I live alone. I probably drink too much. And I’m bored. The most exciting thing that’s happened to me in the months is this storm. Lightening in the city is terrifying but I was invigorated. Every flash brought an accelerated heartbeat, a quick in my step, shadows lurking behind corners… my imagination was getting the best of me. It had started to rain, but I didn’t mind. It was warm and holding my face to the sky it made me feel alive.

When I got to my building the power flickered in the lobby and I only thought for a second about taking the stairs. My heels were killing me and it had been a long day….
I hadn’t noticed him until the doors started to close. He was lurking in a shadow and I could just make out his eyes. I could hear the thunder rumble and a heat flew through the air. We were only halfway to the top when with a jolt the elevator stopped.

Excitement you say? This isn’t what I was expecting…

The stranger and I could both feel it in the electrified air. Whether it be the storm outside or the fact we were stuck I will never know, but does it matter? I put it out of my head. He stared me down with catlike green eyes. He stared so hard I hadn’t noticed he was right on front of me. I could feel his breath on my lips. The heat of his body radiating to mine, one more inch and his body would be pressed into mine. I couldn’t stop myself! A fiery energy burst out of me with flames that could only be smoldered by giving in to my desire. I found myself against the wall. The heat of him was all around me. His manhood pressing into my thigh as his tongue found its way inside me. He held my hands over my head and grasped my breasts with undulated yearning. I wanted him.

“Take me.” I whispered.

“Not yet.” He whispered back. “Not. Yet.”

His hands found their way down my neck, my shoulders, ribs, hips, right past that place that makes you quiver with anticipation. He was on his knees. Kissing my ribs, my belly… Oh the hips! He kissed me through the sexy skirt I wore today and I wanted more. I groaned. He nibbled. I wanted more. His hands made their way up my thigh lifting my skirt. He parted my black lace thong and I could feel his fingers find me. I gripped his manhood which was hard and inviting. I needed him. I needed this. I lifted my leg and wrapped it around his waist. Pulsating into him I could tell maybe he would give in.

I felt my way down his muscular chest and unzipped to my bliss. He spilled out and I couldn’t wait any longer. I made him enter me. He grabbed my ass and lifted me. Pressed against the cold elevator wall I shivered. The heat was all around me now and I could feel it building from the inside. I could feel the smolder turn into flame as he found me over and over. He filled me to the brim and I was ready to explode. I moaned louder with each move. Ecstasy was what I felt. The excitement of a stranger with the pleasure of physical love… I couldn’t hold on much longer.

My lips found his, his tongue found mine, our breath moved in beautiful unison and the fire came to an unbearable climax. I grabbed his silky hair and gave it all I had. His lips found their way down my neck to my collar bone as he thrust me harder. Harder! With a moan of epic proportions fireworks exploded. A release of all that energy, mystery, suspense, melted out of me as we both exhaled.

I felt my way down his muscular arms to his chest feeling his muscles rise with every intake of sweet breath. Slowly he began to release me. First one leg, then the other, never backing away, never letting go. He must have been a gentlemen because he pulled down my skirt, still not letting me go. He embraced me, holding his lips to my ear, I shivered again with the memory. I laid my head on his shoulder and took a deep breath. He smelled exotic.

The elevator started to move and we began to unwind. He placed his hands on my hips and my breath caught. I wanted him to leave them there. I wanted him pressed against me again… I went to speak and he pressed his finger to my lips. I closed my eyes and let myself have the moment. “Our secret.” He whispered.

When the doors opened I had to get out. When I turned to ask his name he was back in the shadows. I decided I would let it go. He would remain “the stranger”, and this would be our little secret.

Believe by Christopher Liccardi

Today’s Brew:  Mary Lou’s Creamy Chocolate Coconut

Here’s a dreamy little number from our friend Chris Liccardi.  Do you believe?  Follow him on twitter @NiteWriter07 andvisit him at The Darker Half for more!

BELIEVE

by Chris Liccardi

As she stood in the shower, hot water pouring down her cold tired body, Teagan reflected on the pain that the day brought her. It was a terrible reflection, empty and hollow and she hated it. The crushing emptiness in her chest felt like it would cave her in. She would be crushed by heartbreak.

Teagan had been through the worst possible day of her life save for the day he died. She could not possibly feel more broken.

Images of the day flashed through her mind, free of order or purpose; confused emotions all with tiny sharp fangs, biting and gnashing at her soul until she could no longer breath. The pain was immense as she stood in the shower, living each moment over and over again until she was sure she could not stand one more.

“Take a breath baby. Just take a single breath. One at a time…for me.” It was the voice of the man she just buried.

“Oh fuck, my imagination is going nuts now.” Teagan said out loud to herself.

“One breath for me Teag…Please? That’s it…just breath.” His voice, so close she could feel the heat from his breath on the her neck.

Teagan inhaled, head down and soaking herself in the hot spray. At first the breathing was slow and staggered, a gasp but she forced it into her lungs. The effect was instantaneous.

“Good job Baby. Just take one more, for me? Please? I know you can do this. I wouldn’t lie.”, his voice, strong and sure, behind her. She could feel his hand on her shoulder in a way she remembered.

“You’re dead Celyn. You’re DEAD.” She started to scream now. It seemed like the right thing to do.

“Teag, I’m here with you baby. Why are you screaming? I can hear you.” Steady strong voice, quite and powerful.

“I am what I am and you need to be okay. You are my concern. I will always be here with you, for you…” his voice faded and his hands moved from her shoulder. The caress on her face was gentle and soothing.

“I.. You… Celyn I don’t understand this.” Teagan once again began to cry.

There was no response and Teagan was convinced the day’s trauma was the cause of this hallucination but the fingers on her face and her shoulder were so real.

“I miss you, DAMIT. I fucking miss you!” shouting again. She wanted him to come back, if not in life than in her delusion of a life she had to let go of.

“Don’t let go Teag. I’ll be here as along as you hold on.” He caressed her back in long sweeping strokes.

Teagan arched her back at the feel of his touch, alien and yet so familiar. She pushed back from the wall, slowly testing to see how good her imagination really was. Would she feel him? Would the motion of her falling body be stopped by the man she loved standing, behind her?

His form, wet and warm against her back did stop her. She could feel his pulsing hardness lying against her lower back. He was with her. Somehow he was here, now!

“I don’t want you to go.” Her mouth was stopped by the most sensual kiss she had ever felt in her life. Pain and fear melted away and she was overcome by such a passion to have him she could hardly stand it.

She was engulfed in him now. He was in front of her, kissing her like a new lover. He was behind her, hands caressing her wet skin, finding her nipples and running fingertips over them with the gentleness of long experience. His cock was pushing up, seeking to find that place where they always came together. She felt elation, confusing, doubt.

“I don’t understand?” was what she wanted to ask, but one that would have no immediate answer. Not in the verbal sense.

Teagan felt her legs being parted, slowly and with gentle warm hands. Her instinct was to resist but even that melted away in mere seconds. She could feel the hands working their way down her sleek wet skin, rubbing their way to her sweet spot. She had felt this loved before, many times over and she longed for it.

She could feel her lips being opened, something long and hard finding its place, a private place where he had been so many times. She opened her mouth to say something and it instead moaned with the sensation of being filled with his love. Something had taken up that space where emptiness had been since his death.

The lovemaking went on for what felt like hours. Groping slow hands finding sensitive tender places where she loved to be touched. The ache in the center of her was satisfied over and over again. There was no end to how many ways and places he filled in her. She kept taking of it over and over again until she could stand not another moment of its intense and dizzying pleasure. She came more that night than she ever thought possible and in the end it was all a blur of strong arms, naked seeking bodies and the sense of peace that overwhelmed her to the point of surrender and exhaustion.

The morning light pouring into the open window brought with it a sense of newness but was fleeting. Teagan opened her eyes, slowly wondering where she was. She remembered so much and yet it seemed reality was kicking in the door like an angry mob out for blood.

“Celyn… baby are you…?” Teagan trailed off. She suddenly remembered the funeral, the rain driving people away. She remembered standing in the downpour, crying and trying to breath.

Flash to the apartment, standing empty and cold now without him in it. She blinked as tears began to well up in her eyes, doubling and then tripling the view from her over-sized bed. It was the morning after the funeral. The weight of the thing hit home and she began to sob.

Another flash and she was undressing on her way to the bathroom. She laughed at that moment realizing he would not be there to pick up her clothes and join her in the shower. She would have to pick up her own clothing now and shower alone. The tears were coming now. No stopping this flood and no more happiness for a while. She would not hear him bellow out her name as she put the key into the lock, laughing all the while as he forced her name into every movie title he could think of. No more celebrating the little things like coming home from work or making it to a concert just in time.

Teagan could barely breath again. She was struggling to get any air into her lungs as she relived the last five years of her life with him. He was center and side of the world she revolved around and now he was gone.

The birthdays, the flowers for no reason, all the things he did just for her. All gone!

Teagan’s crying was in full force now. She was hitching in deep uneasy breaths like a little girl who scared herself silly. She fought to regain some sort of control but failed.

“Baby… be easy with this. You can’t change it, neither can you change the way I will always feel.” The voice in her head and heart was so strong it gave her goose bumps.

“This isn’t real. This isn’t happening?” she questioned the empty room. She was starting to think her sanity was now up for grabs along with everything else.

“Its real for me Babe. Its real for you if you believe it.” The voice grew closer and she felt the kiss on her cheek. It was soothing, as it had always been. Teagan’s breath began to steady, the hitching slowed now. She was gaining control again.

As she wiped her eyes, she again thought her imagination was giving her an out; letting him go easily. She was convincing herself it was not a loss of sanity or a ghost coming to visit her like some bullshit story of morality and conscious.

As she sat up in her bed, she realized she didn’t know how she got there. She was about to get up when she realized she was naked under the covers and laying on the pillow next to her was a single red rose, freshly cut and wrapped in a silk ribbon the color of her hair.

“Celyn… baby?” Teagan’s voice wavered.

“If you believe Teagan…only if you believe.”

His voice echoed through the house and her tears flowing again. This time, the pain was gone; replaced with an intense joy and love. The force of him there crushed her like a wave and she began to believe…

 

Turning Point by Jeanie Grey

TODAY’S BREW: Chocolate cherry medium roast. Mmmmmm.

Now here’s a story to strip by if there ever was one by the delightful Jeanie Grey. Follow her on twitter @jeaniegrey.  Get ready to sizzle.

Turning Point

by Jeanie Grey

The next day she gets little hot flashes every time she thinks about him.

The day after that, she finds herself trying not to Facebook-stalk him, settling instead for re-reading for the hundredth time the messages he’d sent her. They turn out to be less fitting material for fantasy than she would like.

She finds herself humming “I’m Not in Love” by 10cc: I’m not in love. So don’t forget it. It’s just a silly phase I’m going through.

“I didn’t know if I’d ever get you here,” he’d said. She was straddling his lap on the futon in the downstairs office of his house. His wife and kids upstairs.

Earlier they’d sat side-by-side at the bar, kicking around the idea of going somewhere to play pool, but she couldn’t think straight. Had been in a near-constant state of arousal for the last several days. Finally she just said it: “What I’d really like to do is go somewhere and make out. How would you feel about that?”

He liked that idea. Suggested the Gold Dust Meridian for its high-backed booths that shielded patrons from casual on-lookers.

She said it wouldn’t be enough privacy for what she had in mind: a certain amount of groping and possible clothing removal.

He texted his wife to see if it was cool to bring her home. The wife said yes.

They kept their jeans on but took off their tops. He blew air along her spine and she jumped. His hands were warm and large and patient as they moved over her back. Pressed gently into her flesh. After a few minutes his energy shifted. He gave up on the massage. Licked the almond oil from her back; brought his head down close to hers so all she had to do was turn her face toward him and arch her back a little, and their tongues could collide and tangle.

He moaned and panted. Inhaled sharply. Bit his lower lip or pressed his lips together. Smelled clean. Got excited and exclaimed “Fuck!” A surprised half-smile on his lips. Said he liked the way she touched him. Liked it when she bit and sucked on his nipples. Licked the corner of his mouth. Sucked his earlobes.

He said he’d been thinking about her pussy for weeks. Wanted her clit in his mouth. She felt faint at the suggestion, desire so intense. She’d soaked her underwear clear through. Her hand in his jeans. The head of his penis felt disproportionately large to his shaft. His penis seemed a good length. She wondered how it would feel inside her.

Their bodies seemed to like each other immensely.

At one point he said her name and she couldn’t believe how sexy it sounded coming from his mouth, his chest bare, his penis hard, his cheeks flushed with desire. His face was beautiful. She hadn’t noticed before.

She put her bra and shirt and sweater back on. He pressed against her backside. She leaned back into him and ground her ass against his crotch, then protested that she was trying to behave herself. He walked her to the door. Got his coat and put on his shoes. He did something magical with his shoelaces: tied them without seeming to tie them. Later she’d reflect on the trick with renewed awe, would come to think of him as a magical being. Like a unicorn.

Rolling around in her head for a couple weeks, since their last real date: If I thought for one moment that I was falling in love with you, I’d say good-bye and never see you again.

Even she recognized it as a sign that she was beginning to lose her conviction.

Snowscrewed

TODAY’S BREW: So much Dunkin Donuts that I could only give a transfusion to a donut in an emergency.

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY EVERYONE! Kristen and I have thrown together this fun little ditty in light of our recent snowscrewing as we like to call it. Trapped for days with the company of scary neighbors and scarier children, we needed something to warm us all up until the heat came back on.

SNOWSCREWED

by Kristen and Julie

The devil children from upstairs were making snow angels outside. Oh, the irony. I sipped my coffee and watched them through narrowed eyes. It may look like they were playing, but I know they were plotting.

I needed to clean the snow off my car, but I couldn’t wait until they went inside. Come on, Marcy, you’re a grown woman, and will not be intimidated by second graders. Pulling on my hat and scarf, I straightened my spine and headed out.

“Marcy! Marcy! Look what I can do!” Hayden, Harry, I didn’t care enough to tell them apart, called to me immediately.

“That’s great,” I said through gritted teeth without looking. The plow passed by, making the drift I had to dig out of deeper. Awesome. Why hadn’t I taken that transfer to L.A.?

THWACK! the boys erupted in giggles as the hard ball of ice one of the little fuckers threw made its way down my face.

That was it. I’d had enough.

“You little fuckers!”

I threw down the cleaning-off-stick thingy and stormed inside, up the stairs, trailing clumps of snow. I went past my floor and up to the little fuckers’ apartment.

Banging on the door so that the #10 shook, I yelled “Joe! JOE!”  I felt the eyes of the tenants across the hall through the peephole.

Joe threw the door open, wild-eyed.

He was dripping wet. Wrapped only in a towel.

“Are the boys okay?! Where are the boys? I just wanted a hot shower before hot water was gone!”

I could barely remember why I came up there, looking at the chiseled construction worker outline of his chest muscles, still damp. I swallowed, trying to bring my eyes up to his. Now I felt like a little kid, tattling.

“They’re outside,” I managed. “They hit me in the head with a snowball.” My voice kept getting smaller.

He fought a smile and lost. “That’s what boys do, Marcy. they play rough.” He reeled back a little. “Not that rough, though. You’re bleeding.” He reached across the threshold and touched my temple, coming away with blood on his fingers. Pulling me inside, he shut the door behind us in a fluid motion.

“Come sit down,” he said, leading me through Legoland to the couch. I sat down, suddenly feeling faint. “I’ll be right back.” He was inches from my face, and my breath caught even as I saw stars.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward to put my head in my hands, hearing Joe bang around in the bathroom and running the water.

“Marcy, lean back,” he said, now in front of me, pushing me flat on my back. My eyes popped open with surprise, though he seemed to be unaware that he was leaning over me, nearly naked.

“Sorry,” I said. “The sight of blood took me by surprise.” I closed my eyes again, to avoid staring at his collarbone and shoulders. I inhaled and became heady with his shower-fresh scent. It made my heartbeat quicken.

Joe gently pressed a cool cloth to my temple, comforting me as I lay there, but it wasn’t comfort I wanted. I felt my nipples grow hard under my layers with his touch. His face was so close to mine, his breath slow and easy.

“You know, I’m really sorry about the boys.” I looked into his eyes, but his were cloudy with thought. “I don’t know how to  make them listen anymore.” He dabbed at my temple and leaned back some, a look of defeat coming between us.

I sat up, wanting him as near as he had been, sorry for coming up there to place blame on him. I reached for his arm to comfort him this time.

“It must be hard for you, alone.” I felt sneaky, preying on him it seemed, but I wanted him. I just wanted him.

His eyes were so warm, and I wanted him to be thinking of me as he looked into my own. “I can’t imagine life without them.” I was thrilled he hadn’t shied away from my touch. “But sometimes I wish I could get away from it all, just for a couple of minutes.”

He looked at me intently. No more words were needed. I could take him away. The boys had to be headed to the double decker hill for sledding, I told myself. The cacophony of the neighborhood boy voices had faded. Or maybe that moment had blacked them out. I didn’t care as our lips met in a kiss, delicate at first, both of us timid, but then the need we both harbored bubbling to the surface. He cradled my head with both hands, my hat and his towel dliding off simultaneously. He groaned, pushing his lips harder into mine, pulling my coat off as quickly as his hands could move. It had been a long time since I had seen a woman go to his apartment and it showed. He moved as urgently as I did.

My hands explored his body as he tore off my many layers. My skin burned, the ice melted away. I helped him with my shirt and jeans, unhooked my bra, letting him cover my breasts with his mouth and fingertips. I moaned in delight, looking back at the door. The boys could very well have been in any second.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Marcy.” His voice rasped as his mouth made his way down my stomach.

“Why did you never say anything?”

He couldn’t answer as his lips went between my legs, his nose nuzzling my clit. I cried out, not caring if anyone could hear. His hands on my bare hips, he pulled me closer to his mouth, biting me gently, making me cry out again. His tongue found its way inside me, and I was unable to stop myself from cumming already. He stopped me just in time, pulling away, making me whimper, climbing up my body fast and pushing my thighs apart more with his.

There was no sign of the gentle man who had sweetly cared for the cut on my head as he grunted, pushing himself into me, thick and hard and fast, over and over until I was throbbing with desperation for him to let go.

“Dad! Harry hit the–”

“Oh fuck!” we both screamed as the door swung open.

Steam by Chynna Blue Scott

TODAY’S BREW: Vanilla something or other. Lots of it. It’s 4 in the morning.

We are beyond lucky to have a friend like Chynna Blue Scott, and you are beyond lucky to read the poetry of her words. Prepare to be sexified. Follow her @jordonchynna on twitter. Now read.

 

STEAM

     If you touched her, she’d burn you.

 

Her skin runs white-hot, eyes the twin candle flames flickering in the darkness when lovers have long succumbed to slumber. Her golden glow illuminates limbs entwined in simmering remembrance. The fiery light of the living lovers, she scorches without mercy.

 

She is the smoke, molten-grey tendrils that cascade over ruby lips; the amber glow of the cigarette, crumbling to heated ash. Her hair the stark flash of scarlet against a black backdrop, crackling snapdragon burn in velvet shadows. Sparking, shimmering nails that would rend you in twain beckon; soft feathers of phoenix down that bring sharp, sweet pain. Her name is Hellfire, Destroyer of Pompeii, Daughter of the burning Sun. She is fire, vigour, passion – a pulsing heart that ignites a scalding fever. Like encroaching shadows, she devours.

 

He is frozen, untouched by time in frigid silence. Ice-cold indifference that burns blue-cold, his Medusa-gaze captures with glacial intent. When he speaks, winds rush over the moors, razing grass and shifting clouds. His steps the echoes in an empty tomb, his skin the bone-white of death.  He is the Creator of Snow-White’s Coffin, the guardian of long-dead lovers, and his frozen heart is touched by none but the brightest flame.

 

Where fire dances, impatient, he is silent – slow, inevitable. Paralysing breath brings senseless sleep, a numbness of such crystalline perfection it captures the essence of a moment. He is painstaking in his preservation, whilst red destroys and crumbles…

 

…And their kiss consumes. Scalding lips turn ice kisses to heady steam, the grasp of frigid hands blackens dancing flame. Skin seethes at the contact, excruciating loveliness that burns away the ground beneath. He freezes her serene smile, his heavy burdens consumed by her irrepressible heat. Self-made reflections glow like autumn. And the lovers dance a dance of fire and ice, both black shadows, both white lights.

For when the watchers of lovers give in, their frostbitten fire turns the world to ash.

Make A Wish by Beau Barnett

TODAY’S BREW: Warm stuff! Just got power back! Who am I kidding, it’s hard cider.

Beau Barnett is a wonderful friend of ours who I cornered into writing this piece for us. I could not be more impressed by its beauty. Enjoy and follow our friend on twitter @INukeYou!

 

MAKE A WISH

by Beau Barnett

I sat on a park bench on an unseasonably cool August Sunday, wondering if she’d show up. Every time I heard a sound, I would look to see if it was her.  Time passed, and I started to worry she wasn’t coming.  Not that it was expected of her.  We had met at this very park when we were 6, and had been friends ever since.  As we aged, we would periodically meet up here and just talk.  Seemed as if we always knew when the other would be here; whenever one of us needed the other, we would meet.  This was the last day before she left for college.  I hadn’t seen her since we graduated.

 

About the time I was starting to give up hope, she sat down on the bench next to me.  I looked up and saw her golden blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight, the deep blue of her ocean colored eyes seemingly a pool I could dive into and get lost.  She was wearing her trademark half-smile, a mischievous thing that would lift the spirits of any man, no matter how downtrodden he felt.

 

“Hey,” I said, smiling, lifting my hand from the bench in a wave of greeting.

 

“Hey,” she said back, “how was your summer?”

 

“Good. Didn’t really do much besides work, ya know?”

 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Yeah, that’s about all I did, too.”

 

We exchanged some small talk for a few minutes, filling each other in on our relatively boring summers.  I kept taking furtive glances over at her to see if she was bored.  I always worried about that.  Whenever she caught me looking at her, she would smile, and I’d look away.  What was going through her mind?

 

We kept talking, and watching a couple of squirrels frolic near the playground.  She would periodically laugh at something the squirrels did. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, a sweet, melodic sound.  Truth was, she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  Whenever I spent time with her, I believed in love.  If such a thing existed.

 

“I can’t believe I’m leaving for school in the morning,” she said, nervously pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“I know.  I hate we didn’t get to spend much time together this summer,” I said, sighing.

 

She looked up at the darkening sky, then jumped, pointed where she was looking, and said, “Make a wish, quick!”

 

I looked where she was pointing and saw a lone meteor shooing across the sky.  I made a wish, just like she asked.  For her.

 

“What’d you wish for?” I asked.

 

She playfully punched my arm. “Silly, it won’t come true if I tell you,” she replied.

 

I laughed.  “I hope it comes true,” I said.

 

“Me too.”  Her face turned forlorn, “We’re going to keep in touch, right?”

 

“Of course we will.”

 

“Of course,” she repeated, as if trying to make it true.  “Doesn’t everybody say that, though?”

 

“We’re not everybody,” I said, “we’re us.”

 

She smiled.  She rarely smiled fully, but when she did, as now, I swear my heart fluttered.  I felt a little stab in my heart.  What if we didn’t?

 

“You’ll be so far away,” she said, “we won’t have our park anymore.”

 

“You’ll just be in Gainesville,” I determined to stay positive. “I’ll be in Columbia, that’s only 5 hours.”

 

“That’s a long way.  We’ll be so busy with school.”

 

“We can always meet in Savannah.  It’s beautiful there.”

 

“Yeah. Of course we’ll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, too.”

 

I nodded.  After that, she changed the subject, and we spent the next couple of hours just talking about whatever came up, enjoying each others’ company.  Purely, blissfully happy.  Still sitting on the park bench, we watched the stars and put any concerns we had on the back burner.  Never even touched.  Heck, we never really had. A few casual hugs over the years, that was about it.  But, I could have done this all night, wanting for nothing else, and all the happier because I was almost sure it was the same for her.

 

At some point we got up and walked over to the playground where we sat next to each other on adjacent swings, not really talking anymore.  Just looking at each other, swaying slightly.  She looked so adorable and cute in the moonlight.  Occasionally, she would smile her little playful, mischievous grin.  I would chuckle, and look quickly away.  My eyes would soon find hers again, and the cycle would repeat.  It drove me wild.

 

She was so breathtakingly beautiful.  Everything about her.  I knew I had to do something about my wish before it was too late.

 

“Hey, Rachel?” I asked, quietly, hoping she didn’t notice my voice wavering from nerves.

 

“Yes?”

 

Swallowing my fear, I asked “Why did we never get together?”

 

She planted her feet in the ground, stopping her swing.  She sat, looking at me for what had to be an eternity as my heart pounded in my chest.  Then she got up, walked in front of me, and pulled me out of my swing, grabbing a hold of my hands.  Her hands were so soft, and just fit mine.  Like they belonged there.

 

“You never asked, Mark. Why didn’t you?” she said, flashing that brilliant smile.  Without thinking, I leaned in and gently placed my lips on hers, kissing her softly.  I could feel her smile against my lips as she kissed me back.

 

She pulled away for a moment, to say, “My wish came true,” before our lips molded to each others’ once again.

 

My wish came true, too.  We needed to keep in touch.

 

 

The Sexy Stream of Consciousness

TODAY’S BREW: French Toast Medium Roast. There’s a little sexy right there.

By Julie and Kristen

These are things we find sexy, rattled off in an almost marathon fashion to make your day that much saucier.  This is not a list of our “types,” as we love individuals.  These lists are not all inclusive as there is not enough space to fully let out our pervitude.

KRISTEN

the hipbone divet.     dark hair and tans.    state pensions.    dads really into their kids.    dry humor.    men who can cook.     vampire of choice: Vachon from Forever Knight.   a blazer and untucked shirt.    when he does something really nice just for nothing.    boots. all kinds.   Blue eyes and dark eyelashes.   Stubble.   Full lips.   Boxer briefs.   Smelling good but not too good.   Guys who can write.    Guys who are really passionate about something.   Motorcycles.   Music taste with bonus points for hair metal appreciation.   Spontaneity.   Nothing on Rod Stewart.   Gauged ear piercings.  Holding hands.   A guy who doesn’t mind a little competition with a girl.  Surfer hair.

JULIE  

video game hair.   champagne and Thai food.     masculine, roughed up hands.    men not afraid to be poets.   sarcastic motherfuckers.     guys who take pride in being creeps (i.e. Rob Zombie).    vampire choice: Spike. Obviously.    The way they say your name.    brooding    come on. Tattoos.     Staying in.   when he flaunts that he reads more than comic books.    Smoldering when he looks at me.   Tell me you miss me.    Egotism.  Guys who can write.   Guys not super into cars.   A little bit of possessiveness.   Good music taste.   Strong thighs.   A guy who wakes up happy.    When he thinks it’s hot that I drink beer and eat like a meat-starved man.    A man who makes no apologies for who is and what he’s into.   Fireplaces and movies under a blanket.  Men of few words with all the right words.

 

Again, these are hardly all inclusive, as we could go on for days and days. (This is also something we find sexy… going on for days and days.)  Alright, before I get too filthy, tell us what you find sexy!

 

 

Twitter Crush by Jacqueline Czel

TODAY’S BREW: Vanilla something or other

This little minx resides right here in Boston near The Undead Duo. Follow her on Twitter @Jacqueline_Czel.

 

TWITTER CRUSH by Jacqueline Czel

JD looked at the address in his hand and smiled. The sun had set so he headed to her apartment. He ached to see Marla. 3,451 tweets, 767 direct messages, 634 emails passed between them in the last year and now he would meet her for the first time. He knew she was beautiful on the inside and had seen a handful of photos but now he’d find out what she was like in the flesh. It gave her the time she asked for but he needed more from her. He needed to see her, touch her and eventually share the truth about himself.

Marla left work and walked the 8 blocks it took to get to her apartment in the Back Bay just after 6pm. When she reached her brownstone she saw an incredibly attractive man who was well over six and half feet tall with a muscular frame and thick dark hair that hung just below his ears sitting on her front steps. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. He had a chiseled face with a hint of shadow on it. Although he looked a little pale, he was gorgeous. She took in all of the fine details of his appearance and the dark suit he wore and started to speak but he cut her off.

“Marla?” 

“Yes, how did you know my name?” She asked in a surprised voice.

“I’m JD Raynes,” he said holding out his hand.

She didn’t take it. Marla felt drawn to this stunning man on her stoop but he didn’t look like the JD in her mind or the photographs on her Macbook. He was way too handsome. The JD she knew looked a little bit like the mysterious looking man in front of her but really more like the average Joe.

“When the rain and wind come together, passionate storms ensue.”

Marla narrowed her blue eyes at him. “Are you some hacker who’s stolen my tweets?”

“I hardly think so,” JD responded in a smooth voice.

A tempest of lust built up quickly inside JD as he gazed at her. Her wild dark brown curls and large blue eyes were incredibly sexy and her smooth oval face upon which a smattering of freckles sat was adorable. As he lost his control the wind whipped around them and electricity singed the air.

Marla noticed dark ominous clouds rolling across the sky. The sky blackened quickly and a loud crack of lightening illuminated the street. Loud thunder and rain followed. JD stood up from the stairs and looked out at the dark sky then back at her. Marla stared at him for a moment. She moved to climb the steps but he swiftly settled himself in front of her.

“You’re the cause of this. I can’t control myself.” he said in a deep accent voice before planting his lips on hers.

The moment his lips met hers, a flood of images passed through Marla’s mind. It was a moving film of every conversation they had online. She was reading her messages through his eyes and feeling his excitement and desire for her. The images overwhelmed her as he explored her mouth. She inwardly gasped at the recognition of him and felt her heart open.

She pulled back from him and reached into her bag for her keys. In seconds she had the door open. JD pushed her through it then locked it behind them. When he turned to face Marla, their mouths and arms sought each other with fever.

Marla shuddered as he ravaged her mouth. She wanted this man in her bed minutes after they exchanged words online. He sung to her soul. Her stomach flipped and she felt heated desire begin to pool between her thighs.

JD caught the scent of her arousal and inwardly smiled. She was his. He tore at her clothing, shredding her wet blouse and pulling her skirt from her body. He left her standing in her black pumps with her damp curls cling wildly to the curve of her ripe breasts as he shed his own. He pressed his muscular body to hers, pushing her against the wall. He slid his hand over her breast, across her shoulder and grasped the back of her neck with one hand. He pulled her into as deep a kiss he could, allowing him to plunder her sweet mouth. He reached for her puss with other, sliding his massive fingers through her soft down. He stroked the moist entrance to her soul. She responded, as he explored her body with his hand and flicked his thumb over her throbbing clit, with deep moans that he inhaled.

JD pulled back from her mouth. He took in her beautiful eyes and plump lips before picking her up and wrapping her body around him. “We’ve wanted this for so long,” he growled against her throat as he held her in a possessive embrace. Marla barely smiled at him before she felt the tip of his cock parting the wet entrance to her pussy. She cried out as he plunged his huge prick into her sweet center, stretching and filling her. She clung desperately to his massive shoulders as he fucked her and loved her with fervent need and abandon. Marla felt herself rising and falling as he brought her to the edge.

JD felt her pussy clench around his cock as she orgasmed and he came in response. He filled her with long strokes, savoring her cries and the feel of her slick cunt milking his thick cock. He withdrew from her sweet center and plunged in her, growling out his release, filling her gin with his hot jizz. He held Marla to him, keeping them entwined as her body rode through the aftershocks of their release. He kissed her cheek then moved his mouth lower.

“You know we’re just getting started, he breathed against her neck before scraped his teeth against the pulsing artery in her neck. 

Just Another Hunt by Mari Wells

TODAY’S BREW: Sunberry punch, malibu red, triple sec and frozen berries. Sheenberry punch.

For all our romantics out there, I give you Just Another Hunt by our lovely friend, Mari Wells. Mari is far more of a lady than either of us, so we are classing it up for you to start with. Enjoy!

 

JUST ANOTHER HUNT 

By Mari Wells

I sat in the corner watching everyone in the club. A few eyes were on me; this red and black leather dress always got their attention. I heard the whispers, the words like daggers. It doesn’t matter; women are cruel when threatened by another of their kind.

 

I intimidated them all when on the hunt.

 

Only one man would do tonight. I didn’t mind if he’d arrived with someone else, he’d be leaving with me. I raised the drink in my hand to my lips. I still hadn’t seen the one I desired tonight but I wouldn’t leave this club and go to another one.

 

Movement on the dance floor caught my attention. A black dress swayed back and forth. Come on. There had to be something more than that dress. A man’s hand slipped around her waist and rested on the small of her back. Turn around. Turn around.

 

A couple next to me shifted at their table and I heard her whisper, “What’s wrong with her?”

They got up and left.

 

I kept my vision focused on the hand upon the black dress. Finally, they twisted, and I saw him.

 

His broad shoulders obscured the woman in the black dress. I so like broad shoulders, they’re better for gripping. I inhaled deeply; all the people in the closed building masked his scent. The club owners had thought that the air systems would keep fresh air circulating through the building. It might have worked for humans but not for me.

 

I picked up a familiar scent and scanned the far wall. Gabe’s eyes met mine, and he tipped his head slightly to acknowledge me. My lips curled slightly. We might have spoken before but we both hunted something else tonight.

 

I turned back to the floor; black dress was gone and broad shoulders with her. I scanned the bar and tables, I couldn’t lose him. I wanted him. No one else would do.

 

I scanned the floor once more, ready to get up and search him out. I met Gabe’s eyes again; his grin told me he knew whom I hunted. I raised my glass to him.  He made his way to me and pulled a chair out to sit down.

“A black dress?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Northern corner,” he replied.

I glanced into the corner. There they sat, locked at the lips.

 

“It’s been a long time,” he sighed.

Please don’t do this.

“I’ve thought of you often.”

“Gabe our time is done. Se acabó.”

He nodded and placed his hands on the table.

A feeling I haven’t felt for a long time grew in me. Slowly I reached to touch the tips of his fingers, a sensation like fire burning though his fingertips into mine.

 

Memories flooded me: holding him in my arms, rocking him, licking the wounds on his neck. Once he awoke, we spent many hours in each other’s arms from moonrise to sunrise. Passion washed over us during those hours, the need to feed banished by the need for love and fervor. Desire was the game we played. We even hunted together, but that was over now.

 

“You were always. . .“

He leaned in closer.

“My favorite.”

No te creoHe was always your favorite. That’s what ended us,” he replied leaning back into his chair.

“I didn’t create him. You I created. You are my favorite.”

“I wasn’t enough for you. Ale, forget him. You’ll never be happy until you do.”

Was he right, would I never be happy until I forgot him? I was happy with Gabe, wasn’t I, while it lasted.

 

“How have you been?” I asked.

He grinned. “I’ve been. Y tu?” his grin got bigger.

He knew. Everyone knew. I shrugged.

“You have been busy,” he finally said.

“You know my only weakness is strong men.”

He smiled, “And I was your favorite?”

I brought my drink to my lips as I focused on him. The memory of his fingers softly touching my lips sent a shiver through me.

“I was your favorite?” he asked again, leaning towards me.

I nodded once.

 

What was your favorite?” His grin turned mischievous.

I shook my head.

He placed his right hand on his heart, drawing my eyes to his chest.

“You wound me, Reina. Not even one small word for my injured ego.”

“All of you. Everything.”

It’s said we can’t feel warmth, but passion burns within us. More heat radiates through our bodies, than that of a human’s.

 

His gaze pierced mine. His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. “I remember your most important lesson.”

I wouldn’t be able to keep control much longer. “Cual?”

He shook his head, “Not yet. . .“

He knew me well, knew the correct moves, and after all -of these years- he remembered. My body began to burn. I scanned the dance floor again, and glanced to the northern corner.

“Why bother?” he asked.

 

I looked at him. His left index finger followed the pattern on the table. “You know you’re not taking him tonight.”

“Oh no, and who am I taking tonight?”

Our eyes met and the fire burst through me.

“Your first lesson, the more passion, or desire that burns. . . “

My breath hitched.

“The sweeter the blood.” He inhaled deeply and smiled.

“You remember well. Tell me was I not correct in teaching you this?”

“You were correct.”

It became my turn to inhale; his scent confirmed what my eyes were already telling me.

“The dress or her date no longer matter, Ale. You’re coming with me tonight.”

Desire sang within my body. He was right, I would leave with him tonight, but my Gabe was wrong too.

Tonight wouldn’t change anything. It was just another hunt.

Post Navigation