Holy Grail

“James’ Street station. Please stand clear of the doors.” The automated voice crackled as the train slowed to a stop.

Rain beat against the clouded window. He pulled his long legs in from the aisle to allow fellow commuters to disembark and watched more people pile aboard. The smell of damp flooded his nostrils as wet coats crammed against each other.

The seat opposite him creaked as a young woman sat down, shaking her damp hair out of her eyes. Sighing loudly, she slumped against the faded, worn fabric and sniffed. His attention spiked, he looked up, noticed she was pretty; small, blonde, with a pale complexion, except for her nose, which was pink from the cold. She sniffed again. He smiled and returned to checking his emails.

A sudden gasp from across the table stilled him. Looking up from under his brows he watched as her eyes closed and lips parted slightly. She froze for a second, a tiny frown furrowed her brow and her hand moved involuntarily to her face in a fanning motion. He tensed, holding his own breath and waited. Another rapid inhale of breath and her shoulders rose, her chest expanded and her head fell back, exposing her throat. His pulse quickened. Her face creased, she curled up slightly and the cutest noise escaped her as she stifled her sneeze. Slightly frustrated by the anti climax, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He enjoyed the illicit thrill of his secret voyeurism. To anyone else, this was just a girl with a cold, but for him… so much more.

She sniffed as she rummaged through her bag, producing a ragged tissue from its depths. His eyes snapped open. Once again, he felt her urge to sneeze build up. He sensed the uncontrollable compulsion for release battling with her need to rein it in. Her eyes were pressed tightly closed, allowing him to watch her quite freely; to see her face contort into a pretty little grimace and her chest heave as she fought to retain control.

“Ahhhhhh…” she breathed. His blood pumped, he felt himself harden and his heart raced, “Choooooooooo!” she fell forward burying her face into the tissue.

For that exquisite second, she was completely herself; vulnerable, exposed, her polite social mask had slipped to reveal her true self – her mounting tension and explosive release reminiscent of a sexual thrill. His cock throbbed, pulsing and straining against his trousers. He shifted his weight in the seat.

“Haaaaaaaahhhhhh…” she sighed, her breath hitched. Once again, her face and body tensed.

He carefully, discretely activated the video on his iPhone to capture her rapture for his own private enjoyment later, as he realised, with increasing excitement, that she was the holy grail for a man like him – a multiple sneezer.

💋

Copyright, 2017, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

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The Boy

rainbowcircle1-150Prompt #227

Have you seen the new guy yet? Or do you remember back when he as still the new guy? Write a sexy story about him. Yes, him!


 

He was beautiful; the new boy.

I watched him as he stacked the glasses, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he worked, crouched down beneath the bar. He was singing something very low under his breath. He sounded good. I liked that he kept his own accent rather than adopting an American twang the way most people do when they sing pop songs.

He glanced up at me, his eyes light brown, and grinned. He knew I had been looking at him.

I felt my cunt throb as I stood over him. I’m old enough to be his mother, but in that moment that didn’t bother me. I just wanted to fuck him. I wanted to strip him naked and admire his young, firm body. I wanted those full lips of his on mine and on my clit. I wanted to ride him hard and fast and leave him drained.

He stood up and I realised he was a full foot taller than me. Standing very close to me, looking down at me, I felt a shift in the energy between us. Young as he was, it felt that he was in charge. The heat from his body, the scent of his skin, the sound of his breath, made me dizzy with desire.

“Anything you need me to do?” he asked. I hesitated, torn between telling him exactly what I wanted and staying professional.

He made it easier for me, “Coz I’m happy to do whatever you need,” and bent his head fractionally down towards me. I grabbed his hair, pulling his face down to mine and our lips clashed. He was as hungry for me as I was for him. His tongue in my mouth, his hands on my breasts, massaging them through my blouse, my cunt aching for his cock. He pushed my skirt up over my hips and slipped his fingers underneath my pants, smiling at how wet I was.

Leaning me up against the bar, he played with me, his eyes looking straight into mine the entire time until mine closed as I came, shaking and clinging to him for support.

A loud bang on the glass doors shattered the moment. The regulars were outside, waiting for their morning coffees or hair of the dog. He stepped back from me. Smiling, he put his fingers in his mouth and sucked them before walking over to open up as I fixed my clothes.

I was already thinking about closing time.

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

No Going Back

“Beautiful,” his breath tickled her ear. Standing behind her, looking into her eyes in the mirror, he traced the outline of her jaw with his fingertips and caressed her lips with his thumb.

She opened her mouth slightly, her tongue barely touching his skin, “I can’t really believe we are here. Doing this,” she whispered.

He felt her body tremble, “We don’t have to. We can stop right now.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

She leaned back against him, letting him take her weight. His arms circled her waist. He dipped his head to inhale the scent of her hair, his hands spreading over her stomach and up to cup her breasts. An involuntary groan escaped her lips as he lifted her tee-shirt up over her body and pulled it off her. Feeling his hands on the clasp of her bra, she suddenly felt shy as he pushed if from her shoulders to the floor and closed her eyes.

“No. Look. Look at us,” his voice was firm. She opened her eyes and saw the desire in his reflection; his eyes dark and heavy. She watched his hands move back up to grasp her breasts, squeezing them, rolling her nipples between his fingers and thumbs, stretching them.

She arched her back and twisted her head to kiss him, her mouth open and ready. He teased her, flicking his tongue over her lips, not quite kissing her. Another moan.

His hands on her waistband, opening the button and zip of her jeans. She knew this was the point of no return. This was going to change everything between them.

He pushed her jeans and pants down over her hips, sinking to his knees to carefully, gently pull each of her legs free then, he knelt and looked up at her reflection in the full length mirror.

She was intensely aware of his gaze on her body, feeling a confusing mix of coyness and arousal. His hands were on her calves. He parted her knees, forcing her to stand with her legs open as his fingers moved upwards, massaging her inner thighs. Lifting himself to stand behind her, he gently parted her lips, finding her warm and wet for him, he began to stroke.

She closed her eyes, her head resting against his broad chest.

No going back now.

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💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Slow

My first tentative steps back into fiction after quite a break… Yes, I’ve done better, that’s true, but I hope it tickles you nevertheless!


“I didn’t fall in love with you,” his fingers pushed her hair aside to trace the bare skin of her shoulder.

Twisting her head to look back at him, “Well, fuck you too!” she smirked.

His fingers found her nipple and tweaked it hard, “I am not finished…”

Stifling a giggle, she waited.

He was a pedant. She couldn’t truthfully say it was one the things she loved about him; more like one those things that came as part of the package, that she had decided to consider an endearing quirk. After all, she was far from perfect.

He tickled the skin of her neck with butterfly kisses as he spoke, “Falling implies something sudden, something that happened all at once. That’s not how it was.”

She pressed her body back against his, pushing her ass against him, wanting as much skin contact as possible. She smiled, feeling him stiffen against her.

“It was slow, gradual. I didn’t fall. I…” he searched for the right word, “Slipped? I slipped into love with you. I had no idea it was happening. Just every day you mattered more, I thought about you more, I wanted to see you, to talk to you. Then one day I realized. I was crazy about you.”

His mouth covered her ear, sucking on her soft lobe, breathing in hot air, causing goose bumps along her spine.

Her cunt throbbed for him. She squeezed her thighs together, relishing the ache.

His hand covered her jaw, turning her head towards him. She closed her eyes as his lips met hers, opening her mouth to meet his tongue, her arms around his neck as the kiss became deeper, hungrier.

Pushing her onto her back, he pressed his weight down on her. She opened her legs and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him close. She was more than ready for him.

Their eyes locked, he moaned as her tight muscles gripped his length; he began slowly, rhythmically, moving inside her, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back deep within, his shaft stroking her clit. He bent his neck to suck on her nipple as he rocked; biting it, nibbling it, rolling it over his tongue, knowing she loved the pleasure/pain of it.

Arching her back, she ground against him, using her thighs to pull him into her faster. Sweat began to pool between their bellies as they slapped off each other. He leaned back, raised her legs and propped her calves on his shoulders, pounding deeper and deeper into her.

Their mouths open, gasping, panting, sharing breath. She began to call out, “Don’t stop! More! Harder! Fuuuuuck me!” exciting him more and more with every cry.

Watching her face; how her eyes squeezed shut, how her cheeks flamed pink, how her teeth bit into her lower lip, watching the sweat trickle down her throat, he couldn’t hold back any longer. A few final thrusts, extra hard and deep – he came. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure flood his system, feeling her clench around him, milking him, before sinking back into the bed beside her.

His nose buried in her damp hair, breathing in the scent of her, he smiled and held her.

Safe.

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Watching…

I could feel his eyes on me, following me as I moved around the room.

Memories of how we had spent the afternoon, entangled in each other’s sweating bodies; fucking, sucking, biting, slapping, raised a blush on my chest and cheeks as his gaze burned my skin.

No one in the room knew about us. It was our secret. Ours alone. They knew us simply as colleagues, collaborators, teammates.

I watched him sip his wine as he mingled, watched him smile and chat to our friends and associates, knowing that I knew him more intimately than anyone else there. I knew what made him groan with pleasure, what moves rendered him helpless and lost. I knew how to make this dominant, strong, quiet man sink to the floor in exhausted satiety. I knew how the sight, the feel, the taste of me drove him wild, robbed him of speech, made his eyes roll back in his head and his breath catch in his throat.

Our eyes met. My cunt throbbed with want for him. Even though we had played all afternoon, I wanted more. I never had enough. He glanced towards the French doors leading to the hotel garden and his message was clear. Excusing myself, I put down my drink and discretely left the room.

I welcomed the warm summer evening breeze on my skin, which was clammy from the crowded room. The scent of the rose garden filled my head as I walked towards the quiet area, secluded from sight of the conference room.

I felt his presence before he spoke my name, his voice deep and husky, then his lips were on mine, stealing my breath, claiming me as his. He pushed me up against the stone wall as he nuzzled my throat, nipping my skin and pulling my dress down from my shoulder. His mouth moved to my nipple, sucking hard and biting it, rolling it between his teeth. My cunt ached for him and he knew, as his fingers found it, wet and swollen; ready.

Pushing my dress up past my hips, he sank to his knees and buried his face between my thighs, his tongue working on me as his fingers pumped inside me. I closed my eyes, grasped his hair and threw my head back against the wall, blocking out everything but the sensations he was bringing out of me.

As the first flickerings of orgasm built within me, I opened my eyes. Standing slightly outside of the shadows was Simon, who I knew only from passing and saying a quick hello. Tall, well-built, blue eye and with a hint of beard, I had noticed him, but we hadn’t spoken much ever. He was watching us, his eyes focused on me, as he stroked the hard length of cock peeking out from his flies. He smiled at me, and the thrill of being seen, my naked breast hanging out of my dress, my leg hooked over my lover’s shoulder as he lapped and drank from me, pushed me over the edge. I moaned loudly as I lost myself in the surge of pleasure, my knees buckling beneath me. He caught me before I hit the ground, his arms holding me up. His mouth tasted of me as he kissed me again.

Later, as I hovered by the buffet, deciding what to load onto my plate, a voice from behind me whispered in my ear, “You look beautiful when you come, Alice.”

💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

 

 

Nightwatch

The heat woke him, stretched out naked on the soaking sheet, sweat beaded on his skin. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, arid as the desert. Slowly, he rose from the mattress, limbs leaden, joints swollen and stiff, and made his way to the kitchen. He opened the oversized fridge. Frosty air raised goose bumps along his drying skin and he leaned into the cool void, relishing the relief. The Super had promised to fix the AC but, as always, they were empty words. He downed ice cold milk straight from the carton, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand once his thirst was halfway quenched.

He drifted over to the open window, but the air outside was as stagnant and scorched as inside his apartment. He could smell the heat in the air; a heady mixture of tarmac, fried food, dry grass, smoke and sweat.

There was a light on across the courtyard, one floor lower than where he was. Seems he wasn’t the only one awake. He saw a room with an unoccupied desk, a laptop, a large glass of water next to it and some scattered papers. Just as he was about to turn away and see what reruns were on TV at 3am he noticed movement.

A woman came into view. Dressed in a flimsy camisole and tiny shorts, she was piling her long heir up into a high ponytail. She paused next to her chair and raised the tumbler to her mouth. He could make out the gulping of her throat muscles as she greedily swallowed the water. He watched as some dribbled down her chin and cleavage, soaking through the thin fabric of her cami. Mirroring his actions of only minutes ago, she dragged the back of her hand across her lips before dipping her fingers into the glass and taking an ice cube to rub along her temples and throat.

He felt a fleeting moment of shame for spying on her, but it was the most erotic and unselfconscious act he had seen woman do in quite a while. And she couldn’t see him. There was no real harm being done…

She sat at the laptop and read the screen, stretched her head from side to side and shrugged her shoulders. Then she began to type. He was intrigued; her mouth moved as she wrote and she would momentarily pause and gaze into the foreground as if searching for just the right word or phrase.

At one point she stopped, turned and looked directly out of her window, her dark framed glasses perched at the end of her small nose. He froze, rooted in case he gave himself away, suddenly intensely aware of his nakedness and the growing swelling at his crotch.

He could never resist a bookish girl with glasses and, seeing her face in full, he could see she was more than pretty. She looked a perfect combination of sweet and sexy.

He allowed his hand move lower as he wondered just how filthy she could be once she took those glasses off.

💋

written at 3am during my own battle with insomnia…

yes I’m sitting at my kitchen table,

but I have the blinds drawn down… no-one is watching me!

Would you like to see more of these two? Yes/No in comments please!

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Chemistry

The spark between them was instantaneous.

Neither of them could deny it.

From the very start they both felt as if they had known each other forever.

They laughed at the same things, shared the same political ideas, both thought religion was nonsense and even ordered the same meal as each other off the menu.

They just clicked.

It felt easy.

Natural.

It was anything but natural.

*

The first time he kissed me it came as a surprise. I had longed for it but dared not think he wanted the same thing.

We had been walking in the park, throwing stale bread into the lake for the ducks when the rain hit us without warning. I remember I screamed at the sudden downpour and he took my hand in his and we ran to the bandstand for shelter. As we caught our breath, giggling and wiping our wet faces, his hand remained holding mine. We looked down at our entwined fingers and back up and he leaned down and kissed me; the gentlest, sweetest kiss I had ever received. Before I knew it his hands were in my wet hair and his tongue was on mine, our bodies pressed together as if we never wanted to let go.

I felt like I had come home.

Breaking the kiss, he looked at me. Really looked at me.

His eyes scanned my face, a slight frown on his brow, nothing but concern in his eyes, “I’m sorry, was that wrong? That was wrong, wasn’t it?” he whispered. I could smell coffee on his breath.

“Did it feel wrong?” I asked.

“It felt just so right, Nicola. Like… the rightest thing I’ve ever done.”

I giggled, “That’s not even a word!” and whether it was right or not seemed to fade away.

*

I think I fell in love with her the moment she walked into the café. Her short brown bob framing her face so perfectly, her tentative glance around to find me; then, when she turned those grey blue eyes on me I was done for.

We had been exchanging emails for months, getting to know one another, and had nervously agreed to meet in person. Looking at her, I was terrified and delighted in equal measure. This girl was going to change my life.

After our first kiss that day in the park, we had talked for hours back at my house. It was all I could do to keep my hands off her, but we agreed to take things slowly. We knew this was a dangerous and fragile thing we were embarking on. It needed to be approached properly.

I made her dinner and afterwards we sat on the sofa, her feet on my lap.

“Look at your little toes! God they are cute, what size shoes do you wear Nic?” I’d asked her. She really did have the most delicate, tiny feet I had ever seen on a woman.

“Two. I have to buy them in the kids department, “she giggled and wiggled her toes as I tickled her soles, “Stop!” she squealed and wriggled some more. Her skirt rode up her thighs as she squirmed. I saw her pants, white lace, and froze. The desire to reach out and touch her was overwhelming. Our eyes met. We knew this was a pivotal moment.

She surprised me by parting her legs, providing me with a clear view of the crotch of her pants. I saw they were damp already.

“Are you sure?” I asked her. She nodded. Her breath ragged, her face flushed.

My fingers touched the lace. She gasped. I hooked my finger and pulled the fabric to one side so I could see her. She was smooth, glistening wet and absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on.

*

I will never forget the first time he kissed me down there.

He had pulled my pants off and simply admired me for a few minutes, whispering how much he loved what I looked like. His fingers has caressed me and then he dipped his head between my thighs and planted soft butterfly kisses all along my lips, his nose rubbing off my swollen clit. God he was good! He knew what he was doing. I came within minutes, spasming helplessly on his leather sofa, calling out his name. He lifted up and looked deep into my eyes and said, “I love you Nicola,” and kissed me before I had the chance to say it back.

*

I held her in my arms after we had made love for the first time, my face nestled in her messed up hair, smelling her caramel scented shampoo. I had never felt as complete or as happy as I did then, despite the dark cloud that lingered over us. It needed to be discussed. I looked down at her, her eyes closed in sleep, a light buzzing from her lips which made me smile. It could wait.

*

I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon and the sound of him singing along to the radio. He had quite a good voice, doing a decent attempt at the Ed Sheeran song playing. Pulling on a discarded tee shirt of his I walked to the kitchen and secretly watched him for a few minutes before joining in the song. He startled at first but a massive smile broke out over his stubbled face and I felt my heart soar.

We ate breakfast sitting on his patio, watching the birds feed from the wire baskets he had hung on the trees. He was edgy. I knew we were going to talk, but I dreaded it. I didn’t want to allow reality to ruin what we had discovered.

“Nic, we have to talk about this.”

I sighed, “Yes, I know…”

“So, where do we go from here?”

An unexpected flash of anger flared in me and I snapped, “Well, you’re older, you tell me,” and immediately felt foolish for my outburst.

“Yes, I am. It’s pretty standard for a father to be older that his daughter isn’t it?” he was hurt too.

I physically flinched from his words. But they were out there now.

“You don’t feel like my father. When I look at you I don’t see my father. I see Dan. The man I met months ago online, the man I love. My father is back home with my Mum in the house I grew up in,” there were tears in my eyes, “You are not my father!”

“Like it or not, I am. I was a fucking kid. 15 years old and clueless and we couldn’t keep you. But the fact remains. It’s true. I hate it,” his voice cracked but he went on, “I can’t explain this. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I look at you and I don’t feel you are my daughter. I’m in love with you. How can that be?” The despair on his face broke my heart.

I reached out to him. He didn’t resist my touch, but drew me in to lean on his chest. I climbed onto his lap and nestled there as we cried together.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t bear to,” I mumbled between sobs, “No-one has to know. We could make this work.”

*

Her beautiful eyes filled with tears, but an expression of sheer hope on her face as she looked up at me from my lap. I had no idea what to do, but I knew I couldn’t lose her, not because of a fucking genetic mishap.

Yes she was my daughter, but that was just biology. I hadn’t raised her, hadn’t watched her grow up. This was different. This wasn’t abuse.

I had finally left bed after lying staring at the ceiling all night and gone online. We weren’t the only ones. Genetic sexual attraction they called it. There were Internet forums for god’s sake!

I looked down at her and thought, “She’s right, no one has to know. We can be together and be happy. We can do this.”

I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her, feeling her smile against my lips.

💋

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It might be a wee bit tenuous, but I think I can just about manage to link this to Rebel’s prompt, “Identity” this week!

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.