Hitting [it on] the Treadmill

(WARNING: No profanity, but explicit. True story.)

Ever since college, I try to wake up by 5:30am and do a quick, 3 or more mile run. If it’s too cold outside, I run on the treadmill instead. I don’t really mind running on the treadmill because I get to wear what I would wear if I knew nobody was watching and/or I wouldn’t get arrested. Sometimes, if nobody is home, or if it’s just hubby and me and I feel particularly horny, I like to run in the nude except for sneakers and a sports bra.  (Okay, I admit, I really like being a nudist at home anyway, so it’s not really that big a stretch, I suppose.)  Anyway, I like to feel super-sexy when I run, like I still have my pre-baby body from back in the 80’s, so I wear the skimpiest, closest-to-porno clothes I can find.  Before post-baby-body took over – you know what I’m talking about, you’re still fit and lean, but you never quite get rid of that poochy – boys at my college always gawked as I flew by in my tiniest, cheekiest, baby blue dolphin shorts.

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Danger Mouse

Dead_Mouse“God damn this piece of shit!”  

I slammed yet another crappy, corded mouse against my desktop, cracking the case.

“This is the second one that’s died on me this month!  Where’s Ted?!  Where is that idiot IT boy Ted?!”

Groaning loudly, my luscious assistant Nina popped out of her cube and peeked her head around my door.  Twenty-six years old and 5’4″ of spicy, curvy, Double-D Latina in a navy skirt, white blouse, and 5″ pumps.  My God, she gets me wet!

“I don’t know where Ted is, my liege.  I’ll page him.”

I unplugged the mouse and held it aloft by the cable. “When Ted gets here, you tell him that this ancient piece of shit is going in the trash.  And if he wants it, he can just dig it out himself.  And you can tell him its time to start spending a little more money on the hardware.  If I find out he bought this piece of shit from his shady cousin again I’m going to castrate him!”

“I’ll let him know, Vampira.  In the mean time, do you want to just use mine instead?”

I popped the laptop from its dock and prepared to depart for wider vistas.  When I’m on deadline, my office feels like the walls are collapsing in on me.

“NO, goddammit!  I mean…”  I mellowed slightly, realizing that Nina was not the source of my frustration.  “No…  I’m going down to the conference room and work in there.  I need some space and a whiteboard.  But if Ted gets here soon, page me!  I want to have a chat with that boy.”

“Your wish is my command, Your Supreme Bitchiness.”

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The Flirt

You love parties like I love a good PAP smear.

Your wood shop mysteriously calls when black tie beckons.

But that is not our life.

We must show up and show off,

Being witty and engaging with other witty, engaging people.

It is the world we chose,

The life we lead.

Tonight is formal.

I have on my sexiest, red gown,

Demure in the front,

A plunge in the back,

Acres of flesh on display.

And let us not forget the risque slit up the right thigh.

Six-inch black leather pumps and bare legs.

The double-trouble combo.

I will be ogled tonight!

I already feel a little frisky,

Playing with you before we get into the car,

I am a little too touchy for your taste.

You try to cool me down.

“Are you going to be like this all night?”

I lick your ear.

“You are going to be like this all night, aren’t you?”

I kiss the tip of your nose.

I can’t keep my hands to myself as we travel.

I can see your adorable manhood pulsing.

I cannot ignore it.

My kitty is famished.

The console is not big enough to block my grope.

“C’mon, babe…  Not now…” you whine.

“Ohhh…  You’re no fun…” I pout.

That’s okay.

I’m patient.

I know how to break your resolve.

All our friends know.

Your wife is a notorious flirt.

We arrive and the valet gets the first taste,

A long, lingering look at my legs as I exit the car.

I add a polite little kiss to the cheek.

Sonny must be into women of a certain age!

We enter the room and my mouth waters.

Fresh meat everywhere I turn!

Tonight, I am not a woman.

I am a jungle cat.

I smell the scent of animals in heat.

They are nothing but bait.

I do not want anyone’s attention but yours.

I set my trap.

The flirt begins her prowl.

I stand just so, the runner’s leg exposed through the slit.

I hug each man a little too firmly,

My breasts pressing into his chest.

Pete’s arm gets a seductive brush.

Ward’s cheek gets a pleasant peck.

Oh dear!  A lipstick smudge!

His wife sneers at me.

I bump up against Albert’s side.

His elbow needed a hook!

I watch your eyes,

Flaming with jealousy.

Smiling, I blow you a kiss.

You know what I am doing.

You endure, you ignore, you fume.

I become more and more flirtatious,

Touching, kissing, hugging, men and women alike until…

You explode!

But you are such a gentleman.

No scenes to be made.

You take me by the elbow.

“Excuse us for a moment, will you?”

You lead me out of the hall and to a secluded spot by the elevators.

You spin me forcefully and stare into my eyes.

“What the hell are you trying to do in there?”

I grab you by the arms, throw you against the wall, and pounce.

Pawing at your chest,

I confirm your suspicions.

“Well whatever I was trying to do, it worked!

“Do I have your attention now?”

“Well…  YEAH!”

“Good!  Then DO something about it!”

I kiss you lightly.

We wouldn’t want to mess up the makeup…

Just yet.

You scowl, squint, and grab my arm!

You angrily toss me toward the elevator!

I stumble, falling backward against the doors.

You pound the “up” button,

Glaring into my eyes.

We wait in silence.

You scowl some more.

It is all an act!

The door opens.

You throw my rag-doll body inside.

As the doors close, it is your turn to pounce.

Good thing I reserved a room.

Teasing Aloud

“Do me, do me, do me again.

“Take me, take me, take me and then,

“Make me, make me, make me come HARD…”

I sing my way through the dishes with the voice of a whiskey-soaked rocker.

Wearing low-rise, skin-tight jeans I strut and preen like Jagger at Wembly.

You laugh, shaking your head at your wife’s crazy antics.

“Do me, do me, do me again,

“Take me, take me, take me, and then,

“Make me, make me, make me come HARD…”

In a flash I drop to my hands and knees.

I crawl toward you like a tigress on the hunt.

“Do me, do me, do me again…”

You are laughing but you are becoming concerned.

You know what I want and you can’t escape.

“Tough day at the office, dear?

“Ohhh…  I can fix that, sweetie…

“Do me, do me, do me again…”

My sound track just won’t shut off.

There is no knob you can turn, no button you can push to shut me up.

The only thing that will silence me is feeling you in my snatch.

I crawl up your body, grabbing at your waist, pawing up your chest.

“Do me, do me, do me again…” I whisper.

I turn, I shimmy, I grind your crotch, I strut away.

“Take me, take me, take me and then…”

I hop up on the counter and spread my wings wide.

“Make me, make, me, make me come HARD!”

It is always a game with me now.

My sexuality is beyond my control.

I like playing hard.

I am always guiding you, now…

Teasing you…

Drawing you in and giving you hints.

I beckon with my finger.

“Listen…  I said…  Do me, do me, do me again…”

You come closer.

“Take me, take me, take me and then…”  I leer.

You rub your hands along my spread legs, bare feet high in a flying V.

“Make me, make me, make me come HARD!”

You laugh, burying your face in my crotch.

You chew my pussy through my jeans.

Teasing is more fun when its sung…

Coming Alive

The week behind is a blur.

The week ahead is unknown.

The woman you once knew is evolving,

Becoming unburdened by old limits and shackles.

Old things we both thought we loved,

Are now but small pieces of cut, colored glass,

Forming a kaleidoscopic tapestry of intimate oneness.

Your flesh has never made me feel more alive.

Your caress has never been quite so bold or fierce.

Your willingness to travel this journey with me empowers me.

Thank you for sleeping this way.

For so many years I have wanted to lie next to you,

Knowing that at any moment your flesh could awaken within me.

Three AM will never be the same.

Feeling your naked body spooning into me,

Feeling your pulse throbbing in the folds of my tenderness.

You were being so good,

Holding back your ardor against your urges,

Wondering if I was awake, asleep, or lost in a fantasy.

I teased you, I admit,

Pretending not to feel your presence,

Hiding my exploding arousal with slow, deliberate breaths.

All I wanted was to feel you enter me,

To feel your body join with me once gain,

To experience the mystical oneness meant for our marriage bed.

And then, you knew.

You knew I was playing.

I felt your fingers roam and probe.

You took away my breath,

One hand caressing and teasing my breast,

The other hand massaging and testing my vulva.

I wanted to scream!

I wanted to shout, “Take me!”

Instead I played along, letting you lead.

And then I realized…

For all the times I feel the slut,

At three AM I feel the wife, your mate for life.

And I wanted tenderness.

I wanted to be treated delicately.

This was not the heat of day, but the cool of night.

I am begging you with my sighs,

Welcoming your presence with my shivers,

Eager to feel your lifeblood flooding my hungering soul.

I feel it now…

I feel you lifting yourself…

I lift my leg slightly, signaling my readiness.

You are there,

Your manhood at the threshold,

And my breathing speeds, my eagerness builds.

Ohhh…  Slowly my love.

Gently, I want to feel you enter.

Effortlessly, I want to feel us becoming a soul.

And then it begins,

A slow, rhythmic dance at midnight,

Not the wild mindless abandon of a hot afternoon.

I love you so much.

I could live like this forever.

After so many years, I still come alive in your arms.

Soft is Nice, Too (Erotic Prose)

The sexual freak needs a break.

The “Other Woman,” the woman you didn’t marry but who still looks like your wife,

Needs to give it a rest.

It was a hard day at work.

Clients bitching, bosses twitching, and the world crumbling around her head.

She sits there in the lounge, still dressed in her work clothes.

She’s crying.

“Tough day at work,” you ask.

“Does it show?” I quip.

“Care to talk about it?” you ask.

“No,” I lie.

I’m praying, praying deep inside that you’ll understand,

That you’ll realize that I need you!

But I can’t say it!

I need my man to feel it, to sense what I need!

I can’t be the cougar, the prowler, or the sexual freak!

I can’t hint, or seduce, or draw you in.

I just need you to be the man I married.

I just hope I haven’t tainted you too much with my freaky side.

You sit next to me.

You pull me close.

“Take off your shoes, babe.”

I just needed someone to tell me what to do.

“Gimme your head.”

I lay it to your shoulder.

You stroke my hair and pet me, lover to lover.

I cry harder.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah…  I just love the way this feels…”

You cuddle me closer, wrapping me so tightly I melt into your side.

The cougar may be away prowling, but the kitten is warming up.

I slip my fingers through your shirt, rubbing your chest in thanks.

You’re too much of a gentleman to admit that I still look sexy as hell.

You’re trying to restrain yourself even though my touch is turning you on.

But I feel what’s happening.

I see what’s happening.

I grin.

I scooch over and climb into your lap.

And it’s happening a little faster now.

I kiss you, giving you permission to do more than just caress.

“You sure you’re okay, babe?  I wouldn’t want to…  You know…”

I grind your crotch a little with my ass.

I feel your throbbing manhood pressing upward into my mound.

Yeah…  I’m feeling way better now!

SRO (Erotic Prose)

You fear me, my love.

You should.

I do not know who I will be from one day to the next.

I have become unpredictable, and headstrong, and risky.

Will you come home to a kitten, soft, and playful, curling around your ankles?

Or to the lioness, salivating, leering, claws at the ready?

Today I am anything but a kitten.

I hungered for you from the moment I awoke.

I couldn’t sleep last night.

I laid awake for hours, fantasizing about something new to try.

New for us, but as ageless as sex.

All day long, I was wet and aroused and hungry and dreaming,

I would spring my trap later.

In the hallway.

At home.

My outfit was my bait.

Too short, too tight, too revealing,

Far too risque to be seen in public.

I had my hair up and clipped, craving your kisses to the nape of my neck.

I had my heels on, making myself taller, just the right height.

I had on the perfume you love, rousing your attention.

As you walked by in the hall, an animal slammed you against the wall and tore into your flesh,

Mauling your mouth and consuming your soul.

The animal pawed, and clawed, and purred, and growled,

Preparing your body to be taken and taken with violence.

It was my honor, my love, to warm you up in proper fashion.

It was my joy, my love, to feel you warm me up in return.

Because this is all so new to you, I must lead you.

This maelstrom of sex that possesses me is unfamiliar to my loving husband.

This is not predictable, a trip to our marriage bed for missionary and little more.

“We’re not leaving the hallway until I get fucked,” I purr.

I turn, I assume the position, and I wait, palms pressed to the wall, legs spread.

You lift away my skirt to find that I have left my panties in the drawer.

Your mouth warms me up.

Your tongue opens up a flood.

I feel myself preparing, blood rushing to fill my lips.

I am wet and thick and clenching.

I feel you…  Pressing in…  Preparing to fill me…  And then…

Ohhh…  The sensation of your body and my body blending as one.

It felt like our first time, full of heat and abandon.

The animal got her wish, mounted by her mate,

The way all wild females are possessed and subdued.

And for the first time in our marriage, we went SRO.

The Other Woman (Erotic Prose)

I am not the woman you married.

The woman you married was sexy, a little sassy, and never too wild.

The woman you married was a professional, a lover, and a mom.

Something has happened to the woman you married.

Neither of us saw it coming, but she is now gone.

She has been replaced.

The new woman is in your bed.

The new woman looks like her.

The new woman sounds like her.

The new woman feels like her.

The new woman is recognizable yet unfamiliar.

She frightens you.

She frightens me sometimes.

The Other Woman is profane, and sexual, and hungering.

She is naughty, and seductive, and craving your flesh more each day.

She is evolving, becoming something a little bit dangerous.

She is becoming more fully the sexual beast that always lurked inside.

She is ravenous for things that always lured her but were forbidden.

Now she wants the forbidden things all at once.

She is chasing you, pursuing you as if you are the fantasy lover she could not have.

She has never looked up from her knees more often in her life.

The view from down here looks very, very good.

She is making herself the fantasy you never allowed yourself, darling,

The object of desire you would never pursue, because that’s not you.

The Other Woman unzips things a little too eagerly.

She removes your shirts without a care for the buttons.

She takes you into her mouth like a servant kneeling before  her king.

She loves the hissing sound you make as her tongue tickles just the right spot.

The woman who replaced the woman you married, doesn’t want to “make love.”

“Making love” was for the woman you once knew.

This woman wants to sweat and swear and beg for more.

The Other Woman just wants to fuck.

“The Heavy Bag” | Erotic Short Story | (G/G)

Girls are Different

I’ll never forget tonight.  Every, “Oh my God, what the hell am I doing?” moment is looping in my mind and it’s making me wetter by the second.

I was so nervous I wanted to throw up.  I was about to do something so totally out of character, I just knew I was going to get caught.  I knew my husband was going to come home early and catch me doing something so wicked, so dirty…

CroppedGirlHeavyBagI knew my marriage would be over.

But I couldn’t stop myself!  I got seduced and I couldn’t stop myself!

I’ve never told my husband this, or my girlfriends this or…  Or…  Or anyone.

I really like girls.

I really love my husband.  And I really love the way it feels when he fills me and I feel like we’re one body all mingled together.

But you know that feeling when you see a really sexy woman and you can’t stop thinking about her and it turns into this fantasy where you imagine the two of you showering after working out at the gym and then one thing leads to another and the next thing you know you’re sitting in the bathroom at work masturbating about a fantasy that you pray never, ever comes true?

Yeah.  I have a real problem.

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Fine Dining (Erotic Prose)

We never liked it kinky or weird.

We always did it straight.

Missionary.  Cowgirl.  A reverse or two.

Bed.  Bath.  Living room couch.

But since that night…

Since I spiced it up and you went along for the trip…

I see a little more smirk in your smiles!

Each time we clean the dishes off the dining room table, you smile.

I smile, too.

It’s our secret.

You liked it on the dining room table, didn’t you darling?

You liked getting wild in the place where the family gathers for big meals.

It was dangerous, because we had that shade open.

But you went for the ride of your life with me on the dining room table.

You…  Lying back…  Right down the middle of the table,

Your body naked, your manhood full and thick and eager.

Your eyes blaze as I climbed up and straddle you.

My eyes blaze with lust for your prone body.

I wear the crotchless teddy you picked up just for me…

And those platform stilettos you ogle, but deny get you hot.

I lower myself, slowly, seductively.

I take you in my hand…

Crouching over your crotch…

Steadying myself with my palm to your naked chest…

I feel you there, pressing into me.

I want you in me so badly, but I am taking my time.

I am teasing.  I am grinning.  I am denying.

You are twitching.  You are pulsing.  You are pushing.

You become the aggressor and grab my hips!

I finish my fall, taking you in deeply, and I scream with laughter.

We enjoy that laugh together, but not for long.

I fall to your chest and kiss you, but not for long.

Soon, I will be back up on my feet, crouching, steadying, impaled on your flesh,

Our bodies will join in a sensuous, profane mission.

To make each other rattle and shake,

And then to lie together in our bed and dream about our time on the dining room table.