SinfulSunday – Charging Up

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Seeing as the lovely Tabitha has challenged us to #30DayOrgasmFun I am making sure my little toy is fully charged for later… fun times await!

Who else is sinning?
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Copyright, 2018, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

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Flash Fiction – At My Feet

My foot looks incredibly pale and tiny, resting against the dark hair on his thigh. I smile as I watch him, tongue curling over his top lip in concentration while he applies the deep burgundy polish he chose to my toes, taking great care to not smudge any. His breath is warm on my skin as he gently blows to help dry the varnish. He smiles up at me, his eyes dark and wicked. Feeling greedy for him, I walk the painted toes of my free foot from his knee to his hip and as I begin to dip it towards his groin he casts me a stern warning glance… not yet.

Leaving the polish to set, he leans across and stretches my arms above my head, securing my wrists to the bedposts with a nylon stocking I had discarded on the bed before my bath earlier. I hope he might kiss me but, knowing how to prolong my anticipation, he hovers his lips over mine, teasing me with his breath, before taking my ankles and binding them together with the remaining stocking. He ties them tight so I cannot fight him.

His thick fingers stroke the soles of my feet so softly I can barely feel them; a delicious tickle trickles up through my legs and spine and I close my eyes to savour the sensation. I feel his weight shift on the bed and his hands are on mine. I have a flash of frustration that he has left my feet, until he begins caressing the soft, hyper-responsive skin on my wrists, moving his fingertips agonizingly slowly towards my inner elbow, where he lingers, teasing me with butterfly touches, making me writhe in pleasure. My skin is so alert that even the tips of his fingers repeating a pattern on it feels as if he is peeling skin away. They drift towards my armpits and he strokes in circles; I sigh contentedly. I feel like a spoiled kitten being caressed.

His hands glide down, over the silk covering my body, to the hem of my chemise. I lift my bum for him so he can push the flimsy material up over my hips, breasts and over my face, effectively blindfolding me. I feel heat flood my body; my face is flushed at being left so exposed and vulnerable before him. I start to feel a pulsing ache between my legs. I am torn between wanting this to last all afternoon and wanting the exquisite torture to end with him filling me, pumping inside me.

I flinch as his fingers find my nipple; rolling it, pulling it and twisting it the way he knows I love. A groan escapes my lips and I long to feel his mouth and teeth on it but he wants to extend my torment. His hands run over my torso, my waist, barely touching my hips and he firmly pulls down on my calves, straightening out my body, which has involuntarily arched in pleasure. My body is quivering; adrenaline and nervous electricity making my skin react instantly to his slightest touch.

I feel his breath again on my ankle as he traces his tongue over my ankle, pausing to gently suck on my heel before running it firmly up the centre of my sole. I cannot stop a moan from leaving my lips. He laps at my feet, tongue dipping between my toes as his nails cruelly scrape the sensitive skin underfoot. I instinctively arch my foot and curl my toes, trying to bend my knees to escape but he holds me in place, alternating his touch from excruciatingly pleasurable soft and gentle tickles to rough scratching as he nibbles and sucks my toes.

My breath is ragged, my heart racing, my cunt aches. I shake my head to move the chemise and allow myself to look down to see him. He is kneeling at my feet, his face and chest flushed, his erection straining against his boxers; a dot of precum darkens the pale jersey fabric. He pulls them off and rubs the tip of his gorgeous thick cock against my feet. I spread my toes wide and grip him between them.

“Please…” I whisper, my chest is rising and falling, my pulse pounding in my ears. I feel overwhelmed with the desire to render him helpless at my feet.

He unties the black stocking binding my feet, pushes us both further up the bed and leans back on his haunches allowing me to open my legs and take him between my feet. I know he can see how full and wet I am, how much I want this.

I rub the toes of one foot against his balls, pinching the skin gently while I run my other foot up and down his hard cock. I sandwich his glans between my soft, small feet and roll them, massaging him. Gripping my ankles, he thrusts himself into the narrow space between my arches, breathing hard, his eyes are fixated on what we are doing. I open my toes, gripping and rubbing along his shaft, my other foot circling his throbbing tip, taking it between my big toe and squeezing, milking him until he erupts all over my feet. His hot cum drips over my toes, blurring my new deep red colour, making it hard it keep a grip on his cock as it slips again between my arches. I caress him until he pulls away, satisfied.

He kneels forward, kisses the inside of my knee, his tongue once again teasing me as he licks the delicate skin of my inner thighs. He raises his face to smile at me before it sinks deep between my legs.

💋

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Copyright, 2018, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

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.

In Stitches

I was delighted to read these words, “Well, seeing as I’m planning on making a comeback to blogging in 2017…” on Charlie’s blog and was eager to join in her fab writing competition, #Freshly Polished.  However, when I DMed her and received my allocated title, my heart sank somewhat… “In Stitches?” I despaired, “WTF will I do with that?”

After about all of five seconds, a wee grin spread across my face, as a deliciously deviant idea popped into my head: a kink I am very interested in trying out one day… it ticks so many boxes for me – medical, clinical, pain, sensation play, power, restraint, trust, photography, exhibitionism… I could go on.

I really hope it pleases Charlie, and all of you, my lovely readers. Please do let me know in the comments if it works for you or if it squicks you out!

Here we go…


“Today, my pet, I am going to make something pretty for you,” he says as he taps my chin and places the ball gag in my open mouth. My arms are bound to the bedpost above my head and my thighs are spread far apart, my ankles tightly tied to them.

Except for my collar, I am naked for him, just as he likes me.

His fingers grab my nipple and he pulls, stretching it deliciously, making me arch my back for more. A chuckle from him as he says, “Just wait, my love, just wait…”

I expect to be blindfolded, as usual, but am surprised to find he has decided to allow me to watch today. He leaves me for a minute and returns, placing something on the bed beside me, just out of my sightline. From his jeans pocket, he takes black latex gloved and snaps them on, smiling down at my confusion.

He touches my breast; it feels completely different to bare skin on skin, it catches slightly, creates a dragging sensation that I am yet to decide if I enjoy or not. It feels… clinical. The thought of that word, the imagery it brings to my mind, provokes a trickle of wet between my spread legs and my nipples tingle.

Gently, tenderly stroking my skin, he lifts the mysterious plastic device and places it against the delicate skin of my breast, above my nipple. I hear the click nanoseconds before I feel the pinch as the staple pierces me, inhaling sharply in shock and fear. The fear passes quickly as he presses it against me again, a centimetre or two below the first clip and this time I brace for the sting.

Blood rushes to the surface of my skin, I feel flushed; adrenaline racing through my veins, counteracting the shock of the violation. The puncture only bites for a second and, rather than hurting me, leaves me yearning for another, which he promptly delivers.

I tense slightly just before he reaches my nipple, anticipating a much sharper pain.

He runs his gloved fingers over my cheek towards my parted lips and traces them, “Are you enjoying your surprise, my love?” I nod, my eyes pleading with him to continue.

He moves the stapler to my other breast and repeats the ritual until, once again, he stops short of my nipple. He closes his lips over it and sucks. It is already hard, but he pulls it further, stretching it, making me squirm as the wet between my legs increases. Releasing my stiff, swollen nipple, he takes it between his finger and thumb and carefully applies the staple gun to it. The clip pinches as it closes around the peak, like a hard flick but more intense. I groan. Saliva drips from my mouth, down over my chin. He caresses my face, “Good girl”.

My other nipple receives the same treatment; first he prepares her, playing enough to make her stand proud, glistening in the low lamp light, before piercing her. The combination of discomfort and pleasure is exquisite; my nipples have never felt so sensitive or alive.

He sits back, kneeling between my open thighs and traces his finger across my wet lips, sliding it into me, his eyes on mine as he strokes inside. A swell of heat surges through me from my groin, to my nipples, to my scalp.

“Now for the decoration,” he says, producing from his pocket a long, thin, satin purple ribbon and grins devilishly at me, “You trust me, baby girl?”

One again, excited by what he has planned, I nod vigorously, my eyes wide and eager.

He threads the end of the ribbon through the top staple and laces it to its twin on my opposing breast. My skin is hypersensitive and the ribbon chafes slightly as it rubs against me.

I watch his face; the intense concentration on it, as he slowly creates a corset of beautiful purple thread linking my breasts together.

All that remains is the final clips in my nipples. I tense with apprehension as he glides the ribbon through. It grazes against my engorged tip; a sensation unlike any I have ever felt before. Sweet torture that makes me crave more.

My cunt throbs, my mouth waters. He pulls the ribbon ever so slightly, drawing my breasts towards each other, creating a valley for the spit that dribbles over my chin and pools on my chest. He ties the corset in a bow and sits back on his heels to admire his work, watching my chest rise and fall as I struggle to control my breath.

“My pretty baby girl,” he murmurs, as he lifts his phone and takes some photos of me, angling it downwards, a look of pleasure on his face as he breathes, “look how wet you are!”

A groan escapes me. I want his mouth on me, and reading the need in my eyes, he dips his head and traces his tongue up along my inner thigh before he takes my aching clit between his lips and sucks gently, licking and lapping at me while his fingers tug on the ribbon, stretching my skin further. He slides two latex covered fingers inside me as his tongue brings me to the edge and back, time and time again. Every time I squirm or move, the ribbon rasps against my skin more. Feeling close to delirious, not quite sure where I am or what is happening anymore, I feel him tug the ribbon at my nipples as he flicks his tongue and I am vaguely aware of crying out as the sweet pain/pleasure combination finally tips me over into an orgasm that rips through my entire body.

As I struggle to breathe, almost choking on my own saliva, he kisses his way up to my face and removes the gag. I gulp in air while he smooths back the damp hair from my forehead, whispering to me, telling me how much I have pleased him. He brings a glass of cool water to my lips and I sip, trying not to swallow too much at once, and then gently unties my restraints and massages the marks left by the bindings.

Curling me up onto his lap, kissing the top of my head, his fingers once again wander down to the corset he has crafted for me, strumming on it gently, as if it were a guitar, “I think we should leave this on for a little while pet, don’t you?” and I look up at him, “Yes, Sir.”

💋

Copyright, 2017, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

Her Struggle

She lies before me, face down, stretched across the spanking bench; her wrists and calves strapped firmly to the legs by leather bindings. The skin of her back and buttocks shines beautiful, pale white, her exposed cunt smooth and pink.

“Are you ready, little one?” I ask.

She breathes, “Yes, Sir.”

*

He traces his hand across my ass, stroking me gently, running it up along my spine to grab a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back, stretching my throat.

Slap! His other palm connects with my bum, making me catch my breath. He releases my hair and allows my head to sink back down as he begins to caress my buttocks with his leather belt. Gently at first; warming my skin, sending shivers through me. I moan, “Oh thank you, Sir, that feels so good.”

*

Her ass is turning a fetching shade of pink. I strike her harder. She squirms and moans out loud.

“Count,” I tell her.

*

“One. Thank you, Sir,” I sigh as his belt stings my skin deliciously. He thrashes me as I count and thank him, building the force gradually, but certainly. My ass feels red hot. Each strike makes me whimper and twist against the velvet padding of the bench. My thighs start to tremble against the hard wood and, as I writhe, the leather bindings at my wrists dig into my skin. He pauses to caress my burning cheeks, murmuring under his breath, “That’s my good girl.”

I can feel myself growing wet.

*

She has begun to struggle against her restraints, which she knows is pointless as they are firmly buckled. I smile, knowing she enjoys the feeling of the straps cutting into her wrists and calves. More marks for her to admire later.

I lash my belt down on her glowing bum, leaving a clear stripe of burning red.

She whimpers loudly. Her cunt has started to glisten with arousal. I lick my lips and focus. It would be too easy to just take her and fuck her right now.

*

He hits me harder than ever and I sob, tears sting my eyes as surely as his leather stings my flesh. I feel my cunt throb and seep warm, wet want.

“What do you want, little one?” his voice is deep in his throat; he is unable to conceal his desire.

“I want you to hurt me, Sir. I want you to fuck me, Sir.”

*

I take one final swipe with my belt, marking her already scarlet skin a deep, dark crimson. She cries out a guttural, primal sound of pain and pleasure and spasms against the bench, the leather strap bruising her calves.

I kneel down and touch her cunt. It is hot and wet; swollen.

“You have been a very, very good girl,” I say, as I unbuckle the binds on her legs and spread her thighs wider. I bury my face in her, drinking in her unique scent, devouring her with my lips and tongue. She tastes sweet and salty at once; her sweat mingled with her juices.

My little girl moans and grinds against me as her orgasm forces her to cry out again, her flavour intensifying as she comes, before she slumps, exhausted and spent. I tenderly kiss her bruises, her skin hot against mine, and move to untie her wrists.

I look into her eyes; unfocused, cloudy, heavy lidded.

I lean forward and kiss her mouth before I lift and carry her to the bed, where I will show her how proud I am of her.

My girl.

 

Midnight Kiss

I heard her singing before I saw her; a sweet, high melody, like wind chimes on the salty night air. Unable to sleep, I had left the beach villa we were staying in and wandered down to the little cove nestled behind a group of rocks, silver moonlight guiding my way.

Then I saw her. Sitting in a rock pool, her back to me, long golden locks of hair spilled down her back, disappearing into the seawater at her waist. I could not take my eyes from her, even though it felt wrong to watch without her knowledge. Her voice was entrancing, hypnotic almost. She stiffened and, sensing my presence, turned her head and looked at me with eyes so large and sparkling I took a breath.

“I’m sorry,” I stumbled, “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t realise you were here…”

A tiny frown creased her forehead and she tilted her head quizzically before a radiant smile broke over her face and she beckoned me to move closer.

I was undeniably drawn to her. I knew it was not smart to sit with a strange, solitary woman on a beach at midnight but I couldn’t stop myself from doing so. She turned fully towards me and I saw she was naked. Her hair clung damply to her breasts, which were breathtakingly beautiful. Full and round, with erect little nipples peeping out from between the strands of hair. She stretched up her arms to me and, without hesitation, I sank into the warm water beside her.

Her eyes were a deep emerald green, even in the moonlight I could see that. She had a perfect little pixie nose and a pointed chin – elfin was the word that occurred to me as I looked at her. She leaned towards me and I felt her breath on my skin as she examined my face, her tiny, cold fingers tracing my jawline, and then she leaned in and kissed me.

Without knowing how it happened, she had pulled down my shorts and her hand was on my cock, stroking it, looking down at it in absolute wonder. I watched in disbelief as this gorgeous creature lowered her head and took me into her mouth, licking along my shaft with such greediness and intensity as her eyes looked up at my face. My hands wrapped in her hair and I surrendered to the pleasure she was providing. She moved and placed my cock between her breasts, squeezing them together with her hands. I thrust my hips, fucking her breasts as she giggled and moaned, playing with her nipples as she milked me. I couldn’t hold back any more, a hot, sticky arc spurted from me onto her face and she slowly reached up to wipe it and lick it from her hand.

She took my hands and put them on her breasts. I bent my head and sucked on her nipples; small and hard, they tickled my tongue. She moved against me, pressing herself into me, tiny moans of pleasure escaping her lips. I moved my hands down to her waist and felt her silken hips flare out in generous curves. She shuddered against me, clung to me and cried out. I heard a splashing sound. Pulling back to watch her come, I glimpsed the flash of gold fin as it flicked out of the water. She writhed, her nipples swollen and erect, a glow radiating from her skin as her tail flipped in and out of the water. Awestruck, I watched her orgasm rip through her. I watched the golden scales of her lower half ripple and her tail flip towards her stomach, her back arched as she continued to toy with her nipples.

As she settled, she opened her eyes and looked at me, an ecstatic smile across her face. She kissed me and then, as if she had never been there, ducked under the water line and was gone. I stood, still naked but uncaring, and watched her curvy form swim away into the depths.

One last flick of the gilt tail and then nothing…

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💋

Copyright, 2016, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.