Mandy stands back and admires her chosen canvas. Adrian, blinded by black satin, his brutal anticipation glistens across broad shoulders. Cuffs, metal and deliciously tight, raise his large masculine hands above his blonde head. His skin, paled by office work, stands raised and pink from tortuous pleasure. Pride swells her small nipples. Taking advantage, she moves closer to him, but only just.
Slowly, with expert precision, she allows the tips of her small breasts, hardened with desire, to glide down the whelps he begged for. His breathe quickens on a hushed moan. Adrian tenses; unsure of what to expect next while he feels her on her knees behind him. Lust stiffens him, liquid desire throbbing and ready between his legs ready to explode at her command.
The scent of coconut begins to fill the room. Adrian, resting his forehead against the mahogany bedpost, shudders at the slow oiled motions of his lover’s hand. Massaging the tension of life’s monotony, she works her way across his shoulders and up his neck. Cherry red fingernails glide down a now oiled and slick spine to land on Adrian’s sculpted ass. With one hand she continues her sensual assault, working him in circular motions. Placing one of her lithe hands at the nape of his neck, she squeezes gently. With both hands working in perfect synchronization, she grasps his hair from the scalp and spanks him lightly. Yanking his head back between his raised arms and rubbing the sting from her punishment, “More?” glides from her husky silken tongue. Eyes closed, Adrian cannot find the words he so desperately wants to say. Mandy leans back once more and smacks his luscious bottom again, harder. Finding the words dislodged from his throat, “More,” explodes from a mouth seemingly filled with cotton.
Closing her eyes, she revels in his desperate plea. Right now, she knows she is the Alpha and Omega of his pleasure. Pressing her taunt nipples firmly against his back once more, Mandy uses one hand to drag her fingernails across his chest. With the other, she works his erection with slow calculated rhythm. Her hand glides up and down his thickness; pre-cum a glistening testament to her skill. While her senses are taken over with the amorous bouquet of her erotic manipulation, his hips begin to move. Back and forth Adrian thrusts, egging her on. Begging for more. Begging for release.
Abruptly, and without apologies, Mandy stops. Whimpers for reprieve escape Adrian’s dry throat as his sandpapered tongue licks his parched pouty lips in vain. Head hung low between trembling cuffed hands, he waited.
A smaller oak chest lined with black velvet sat off to the side of them; filled with naughty intentions and waiting just as patiently as Adrian. Reaching into their make-shift treasure chest, Mandy chooses his salvation.
Kneeling before him, she removes the black satin that blinds him and uses the tip of his favorite new toy to bring his attention back to her. His head raises, slightly, to reveal light-brown eyes narrowed by need peering through strands of damp yellow hair. Too large for her to hold with one hand, he watches as Mandy grasps both ends. Her delicate pink tongue glides in leisurely strokes along the cool purple ridges all the while never removing her hooded hazel gaze from his.
Eyes closed, thousands of memories dance across the backs of her eyelids as her mouth widens to take in her chosen substitute for her lover. The faux girth glides down her tongue, her throat. Her other hand, unable to be restrained any longer, finds its way to her tender breasts, across the dew of sweat that formed down her toned stomach, to land inside the slickness between her thighs. Adrian watches helplessly while Mandy’s hips seem to flow back and forth as she works her own pleasure in a way that he never could. Desperation shook every inch of his glistening body as he begged, “Please.”
“When I take these off,” Mandy commanded pointing to the handcuffs, “you will not touch me.”
“Yes ma’am,” he agreed.
With a tone of certain dominance, she continued her orders while releasing his numb hands. “Get on all fours, but I want your forearms and hands flat on the floor.” Complying without question or remark, the position raised his ass to exactly where she needed. Tired of the scent of coconut, Mandy chose a tube of edible pineapple lube to anoint her new work area.
Leaning on her haunches behind him, Mandy took a moment to savor the aroma of pineapple and coconut as it mingled with the perfumes of their unbridled escapades within the bedroom. Placing one hand on the crease where his hip and thigh met, she eased into her lover with special care. Each short even stroke inched her deeper and deeper still. Releasing her grip, she turns and places herself in almost the exact same position as Adrian. On all fours, she reaches from between her open legs. Her long auburn hair pools on plush white carpet as she uses the other half of their toy to enter herself. Mandy’s hips squirm back and forth while she works her way backwards. End to end and skin to skin they meet. Each lover holds their own personal pleasure in their hands while their bodies rock with a slow assured rhythm.
The temperature in the bedroom seemed to rise to triple digits as pricks of ecstasy stream up their spines. Feverish and frantic become their movements. Primal grunts and ragged uneven breathes fill the quiet between the slapping of the lover’s slick bottoms; both working themselves and each other to the cusp of blinding euphoria.
Mandy’s mouth drops wide in a silent scream. The cherry red nails she wore dragged their elation into the white carpet. Her body ablaze, locked in place by blissful spasms as she reaches the apex of her pleasure. Adrian’s brows furrowed and feral grunts escaped through clenched teeth while the raging current within him demanded release.
Collapsing to the floor, he lay arms stretched and spread eagle. Mandy, on shaky legs, crawls to her lover’s side. Brushing the damp hair plastered to Mandy’s forehead away with a trembling hand he asks, “Honey?”
“Yeah?” she replies.
“Am I the only one with a craving for Pina Coladas now?”
Always striving for
Never is achievable
Walk with me beyond
your limited view on life
and find what you seek.
Four corners, four walls
boundaries they created
look up and know life.
Silence is a source of great strength.
What is “strength” anyway?
When I was younger I thought my strength came from my never backing down. I felt that if you were the baddest bitch on the playground and no one messed with you, then you were strong. I was still nice to people, but I was quick to anger and quick to either throw a punch or hand people verbal smack downs on a regular basis.
As an adult, though, I have learned that you can’t just go around yelling at and beating people. No matter how much some actually deserve it or how good it would feel. :) But, I didn’t actually learn the true power behind silence until I got married.
My husband and I hadn’t been married that long before we had our first big argument. I, still having my never back down mentality, was hell bent on winning and proving my dominance. And even though we had been arguing for hours, I was just getting started. This was my arena.
Then he did something totally unexpected. He walked away. Right in the middle of one of my sentences, he turned around and walked away. My mouth dropped. I couldn’t believe it. After a few seconds of sincere shock, I had an epiphany. I knew, in that moment alone in my anger, that he walked away because he was stronger than me.
After he smoked about three cigarettes he came back into our room where he had left me. He sat next to me on the bed and I couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you walk away?” He then turned to me. Looking back at me with the big blues that I had first fallen in love with, he said, “I knew I was mad enough that I was about to say something I knew I would regret. Or that would hurt you and I wouldn’t be able to take back. So I went and smoked a cigarette instead.”
To say that I felt like a piece of shit is a tremendous understatement. He had left not out of weakness, but out of true strength and selfless love. In his silence he had not only effectively deflated our fight, but the truth in his words and the tenderness in his eyes had managed to shed light on something so deep rooted within my psyche that I had no idea it even existed. It forced me to begin asking “why”. Why was I the way I was? Why was I argumentative, hateful in my retorts, and filled with such anger.
It also made me appreciate him on an entirely different level. My husband, with his silent strength, was meant to be a blessing in my life. He has not only taught me the truth in Lao Tzu’s words through his actions, but has inadvertently led me on a rough road of self discovery and growth. As if that weren’t enough, he has been by my side through every repressed memory and every nasty truth that I have unearthed with a super human level of compassion, understanding, and non-judgment.
What is “strength”?
Strength is kindness. Strength is loving even when it is undeserved. Strength is compassion. Strength is acceptance and understanding. Strength is choosing loving silence over pride.
So thank you, my beloved husband, for being the person that I strive to become. And a very sincere “thank you” to the Divine for blessing me with my very own real life superhero.
Your horizon is
only limited by where
you decide to stop.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I’m schizophrenic, and so am I.
I made love to Death
He set my soul on fire
Then we ate pancakes
Very well stated and truthful post! Please read!
Originally posted on Mommy Man:
I know, I never blog anymore, and when I do, it’s just to post some silly story of the wacky things my kids do. Well, this post isn’t going to be about my kids or about being a gay dad or any of my usual topics. It’s about something else that interests me that has nothing to do with any of those things: North Korea.
I’ve long been fascinated with the country, because everything I hear about it sounds like something out of a dystopican sci-fi movie. Speakers in people’s homes that blare propaganda and can’t be turned off. A populace forced to worship their dictator like a god. A high-ranking state official who may or may not have been fed to dogs.
Nobody in North Korea gets to read articles like those of course, because most of them haven’t even heard of the internet. If you like The Hunger…
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