You Do Not Need Me

I was 15 when I kissed him for the first time. He had Freddy Mercury’s lips and I watched as he dove in to kiss me. We were lying on the grass that covered the top of the crypt in the cemetery in the middle of town. We had barely met and spoke but a few words, but I knew I wanted him. My young body woke to the sound of his voice, a deep and soft growl that told me he wanted me.

I heard crickets in the distance as he kissed my trembling lips. I knew there were no seeums crawling on my skin as he covered my young body with his. Instinctively my legs opened and wrapped around his skinny waist. He covered my mouth with kisses. His hands reached up under my shirt and expertly squeezed my left nipple. My body arched towards the stars and I moaned the sound of my Neanderthal ancestors.

You’re my one and only, he lied.

I’ll always be your girl, I lied back.

He wrapped his arms underneath my shoulders and ground himself into me. I moaned again knowing that this feeling was fleeting. I knew he’d never belong to me. I was too fiery for him. Too empathetic.

His hands reached into my hair while he pulled my jeans down. With my sex exposed, he pulled himself from his jeans and filled me. I screamed like a banshee into the star filled night and told him that he would always belong to me.

When he was spent he helped me back into my clothes. I reveled in the scent of him and the fullness he left inside of me. The inside of my thighs were bruised, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was him, but he left me there, on the cold grass filled with his nectar.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. The kisses on my lips, the tongue in my mouth, the fullness of him inside of me while I cried out into the starlit night. He was my everything, my first love and he always will be.

It’s been 35 years and I can still feel his hands on me, and in my hair. His whispers in my ear as he entered me and the guttural sounds he made when he filled me.

I’ll never forget him, and I know he’ll never forget me either. He’ll always wonder what might have been, and so will I. I will move on in this life of mine. I’ll brave new adventures, while he remains stagnant and mourns for me.

My Body Bathed in Moonlight


It wasn’t long after I’d graduated from high school and broken things off with my first fiancé that I began to run a little wild. I met up with G. at a party but I’d known him since he was a freshman in high school. He was a senior and a jock so we really didn’t run in the same circles.  That’s not entirely true, I ran in any circle I wanted to, seeing as I was a chameleon and all.

G. brought me a drink, a cheap brand of beer most likely. We sat and chatted while other party goers took turns doing lines of cocaine off a huge mirror that had been placed on a dining room table. I’m not sure if G. was into coke or not, but that drug scared the hell out of me. Our poison of the evening was alcohol, though we didn’t begrudge anyone else for choosing to snort lines off a mirror for five bucks a pop.

One beer turned into three and our tongues loosened. The conversation turned dirty and I saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. I gladly returned a devilish look and answered yes to his request to take me to bed. Walking hand in hand we quietly retreated to a friend’s apartment just a few doors away. We wasted no more time with pleasantries and innuendo. He produced a condom and I grinned from ear to ear. I’m pretty sure I rolled that condom onto his cock with my mouth.

It was a long time ago so I don’t remember all of the details, but I do remember having a lot of fun. I don’t ever remember laughing so much and feeling such comfort while completely naked. His body was beautiful, athletic and lithe. I lay underneath him enjoying the weight of his body on mine. The outstanding feeling of his hardness moving in and out of me. I arched my hips up to meet his thrusts when he stopped suddenly, and rolled off of me. There I was splayed before him, completely naked and vulnerable. My breasts and midriff were lit faintly by the moonlight streaming in a nearby window.

‘Fuck, you’re body is beautiful’, he said.

I was tongue-tied by his comment. No man had ever looked at my naked body with such reverence before. All I could manage was a smile that I hoped he could see in the moonlight of his friend’s bedroom. I pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist as I guided his cock back into me. Sweet Jesus, how he filled me completely.

Our bodies spent, we laid in bed and cracked jokes. I think we might have even shared another beer. As we dressed, we heard his friend S. come home. The poor boy was so drunk, I think he banged his arms and torso on every wall as he stumbled to his bathroom. S. threw up into his garbage can as G. and I walked out of the bedroom.

‘Hey Renee, how the fuck are you?’,  he asked.

‘Better than you’, I giggled.

G. and I helped S. into bed, he whined incoherently about something and passed out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. G. and I headed back to the party a few doors down. We didn’t exchange phone numbers and we never saw each other again. I can’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed, but sometimes sex is just that, sex. It was fulfilling and beautifully dirty.

I did see G. a few years later, at a little family restaurant in Saline. I walked in with my future husband and sat down in a booth. I looked up and there was G. grinning a devilish grin. The blood rushed to my cheeks and sex as I smiled back at him. I might have even said hello. I remember thinking what a delicious secret G. and I had.

I wonder, if I saw him now, would my body react the way it did 28 years ago? I’d like to think it would. I also wonder where he is now. I hope he’s happy. And I also hope he tells the woman he’s with now how beautiful she is.

100 Word Song-I’m Shaking

This is my first attempt at the 100 Word Song prompt sponsored by My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. I’m not sure how well I did, but what came out of me was pretty damn hot. Damon and Rhiannon are recurring characters that I write about. If you ever wondered why they love each other so much, I guess now their secret is revealed. There will still be stories of romance. Maybe there will be a continuation of this storyline. But probably not. I don’t want to reveal too much about them. These characters in some way, shape and form are real. And they’re all mine.



Damon placed the rope around Rhiannon’s wrists gently and tied her down. He never wanted to restrain her legs. Placing his hand under her chin, he kissed her. Her lips quivered as she begged for more. The sadist in him pulled away, delighting in her torment. There she lay naked, ready for him to do what he wanted. His heart softened with his love for her, as his cock became more turgid.

As he began to take her he whispered, ‘I love you Rhiannon.’

Shaking with desire and the hope of satiation she replied, ‘Daddy, make me your good girl.’





Walk Through my Door

Walk through my door

Heart on your sleeve

Smile on your face

Take my hand

Lead me to my bed

Stand above me

Remove your clothes

Unveil my body next

Feast your eyes upon me

Drape your body over mine

Cover my mouth with yours

And adore me

I will adore you

Fill me with your fire

I’ll speak to you in tongues

As we press on to oblivion

We Were Enraptured

TeethEnrapture: To fill (someone) with delight. (Merriman-Webster Dictionary)

He bound me to our bed and began to devour my pussy. Little nibbles around the lips gave way to him ravaging my swollen mound. The tongue lashing left me mewling like a kitten. I thrashed my legs about his head and shoulders begging him to liberate me. To let me cum. He would not honor my fierce cries. As I continued to battle him with my legs, he assaulted me with his mouth. I embraced the onslaught,  without embracing him.

Feeling my essence spray his mouth and chin, it drizzled onto our cotton sheets made warm by the blood coursing through our veins. Without opening my eyes to look at him I knew, he was basking in the taste of my arousal.

‘My Love, fill me with you’, I breathed, my eyes now open, shined only for him.

He looked up at me, and responded, ‘All in due time, my Darling.’

My body responded to the constant barrage of his lips and tongue. Finally, he allowed me to lose myself in the most exquisite apex. The churning began in my sex and emanated through my entire being. It seemed that it would last forever. My body continued to quake. His arms wrapped around my legs to hold his mouth to me while the storm continued to brew. As it subsided, my legs quivered and I was covered in a sheen of sweat.

I felt him shift his weight and move above me. He lowered his body onto mine, I felt the head of his cock brush the length of my clit. The sound that emerged from my lips could only be heard by heaven. And him. With a flourish he filled me completely and began to entice me with movements I never knew existed.

‘Release my hands so I can embrace you’, I begged.

Continuing to move his cock inside of me, he repeated, ‘All in due time, my Darling.’

I moved with him, not against. We were fluid motion and love. His strokes became more intense and my body stalled. Another orgasm erupted within my center and I disappeared into him, only my soul was exposed. So close to death, yet immortal, I trembled with every nuance of my climax.

I glimpsed into his eyes, and discerned he was close to the end. Reaching behind my head, he released me from my bonds. With a final thrust, he poured his seed into me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, to draw him as close to me as I could. My hands found solace in the thickness of his hair. Resting his head on my chest, he lazily bit my nipple. A lone bead of sweat trickled from his forehead onto my body.

His member softened and fell from my pussy. Cum flowed from my center. We laid together, with nothing between us but the memory of our coupling. And we were enraptured.

At Last, My Lovely


His name was Vertigo.
Her name was Dare.
“If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; it is lethal.” ― Paulo Coelho

The Dark Haired Man places hands roughened by hard work, upon The Blonde Woman’s thighs. Her delicate hands strokes a cheek covered by five o’clock shadow. Leaning into the softness of it, a tiny sigh escapes his slightly parted lips. She drinks in his eyes the color of polished sapphires and slides her fingers into the V of an unbuttoned dress shirt. Her warm palm settles on the soft down of his chest hair. His heartbeat quickens and rouges his cheeks with desire. The blush transcends from his body and travels up her arm. He stares intently at her, watching the crimson appear on her cheeks. The Blonde Haired Woman feels her body awaken with a longing only he can evoke.

Closing the distance between them, he murmurs, “Half your problems would disappear if you were with me.”

Promises, lies, truths, endings and beginnings roar in their first kiss. Their hands grapple for purchase as they succumb to the dizzying dare they have chosen to act upon. The Dark Haired Man slides his hands up The Blonde Woman’s ebony skirt. Her body pitches backward, and she places her hands behind her on the velvet cushion. His tongue travels down her neck into the supple skin between her breasts. Kissing gently, he catches her left nipple that has carelessly slipped from the nest of her bodice. He cups the orb in his right hand and continues to suck.

The Blonde Haired Woman turns to look at their shadows projected on the empty wall. Their want has created a painting only they can see. A masterpiece. The Dark Haired Man sensing her hesitation, looks up.

Pointing to their shadows, she breathes, “My Darling, look at what we’ve painted.”

Smiling mischeviously, The Dark Haired Man lowers his mouth back to her chest. She sighs as he gives her a light kiss and continues his exploration. The Blonde Haired Woman lies flat on the velvet bench, wanting so badly to be selfish. To feel his seduction, while she does nothing but take pleasure in it. Her need for him wills her hands forward and she places them in his hair. Leaving it in disarray, but neither of them care. His mouth wanders to her waist as he pushes the raised skirt even higher. Opening his eyes wide, he sees her mound. The pink flesh made ripe with the influx of fresh blood.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to taste what you do to me.”

His mouth possesses her sex, and their coupling becomes a religious experience. He drinks her like holy water, and she prays to gods not even born yet. All the while watching their shadows on a blank wall displaying their story. Their art. The sounds she makes while cumming are hymns that only he understands. Her body undulates and he holds her. With his mouth, tongue and arms. Even in his grip, she has never felt so free. So alive. The Blonde Haired Woman never wants The Dark Haired Man to stop, tasting or loving her.

She believes that he wants to consume her fire. He does everything possible to prove it. Exhausted, he finally draws away from the jewels between her thighs. As the last ripple of her orgasm subsides, he slides his body up the length of hers. They share space on the velvet cushion. He kisses her mouth and she smells her desire on his upper lip. She loves what he’s done to her. What he will continue to do. The Dark Haired Man catches The Blonde Haired Woman’s bottom lip playfully between his teeth, brushing tendrils of her hair away from corn flower blue eyes.

Teasingly she repeats his initial sentiment, “Half your problems would disappear if you were with me.”

Savoring Your Want of Me (Part IV and End)

bed boy

The rate you fuck me is excruciatingly slow.

You look up at my face and smile at my impatience.

I bang my hands on your back, but you continue your momentum.

I cry, and you catch my tears with your lips.

You whisper, “hush,” then hasten your movements.

“I want you to feel where I’ve been,”  you breathe into my ear.


“And the next day,” you say.

As you release your essence into me.

You breathe your promise to me.

To do it…




To never stop,

What we’ve begun…

Savoring Your Want of Me (Part III)

bed boy

You continue to move your cock inside of me.

My body responds and I sway with you.

Our motions hasten.

Put your lips on my neck.

And suck.


Leave your mark on me.

As I ride the crest of my orgasm,

Scratch painted nails down your back.

Your body spasms, but not from pain.

My hands seek your hair and my lips light on your neck.

I say your name with such delight it almost scares you.

I tell you to never,