Myths and Realities of the Lifestyle: Recounted by a Lifestyle Club Virgin - Part 2
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Posted:Jan 23, 2016 8:29 pm
Last Updated:May 14, 2024 8:31 am
6014 Views
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The Setting
My lovely takes me leads me from the open naughty area toward the entrance to a straight and narrow hallway. This portal is open and is not covered by curtains. There is, however, bouncer standing guard. He blends into the crowd and is not intimidating. I don’t even notice him until he stops me from bringing alcoholic beverages back into this area later on in the evening. This area is off limits to single males without an escort. Since I have an this evening the slight does not sting as much as I think it normally would. It makes me wonder if a single male can earn the trust of a club eventually to where an would not matter, but in all likelihood by the time that happens, a guy probably isn’t single anymore. Still, wouldn’t it be nice if we could be trusted to be gentleman on our own guys?
The lighting in this hallway shifts from the deep red to a softer purple hue. On my left there are small private rooms. These are supposed to be used for a limit of 30 minutes. I barely give them a second thought, because I myself am an exhibitionist and did not imagine I would use the cramped but comfortable little rooms. Of course, at this point I was only imagining my best case scenarios and still had a few myths lingering in my head.
My stops at a rectangular hole cut in the wall of the hallway. This long rectangle allows for maybe seven to ten people to stand shoulder to shoulder and watch the action going on inside the room within. At the moment the room is empty, but the perimeter of the large square room is framed in flat black-leather block beds. The center of the room has also has a large square block of cushioned leather. It may not be leather. Something easy to clean with towels would be an accurate statement. It’s a padded room with a space-theme with glowing planets on the walls. It is clear much sexual mayhem can take place within without damaging furniture or people. And it’s all for people who want to put on a show. The show has not started yet, as it is still a bit early. But it will.
There is a third area at the end of the hallway. Here I have to shield my eyes as the light returns to normal, and the sharp odor of chlorine fills the air. I peak around the corner to find a large hot tub. A large and robust ebony-skinned woman occupies one end of the Jacuzzi alone. Nearby seems to be a dressing closet or wardrobe.
“You have to be naked to get in,” my explains.
I smirk and turn to retread my steps down the hallway forbidden to single males.
“Makes sense to me,” I say. “No use for swimsuits in this place.”
So the stage is set, and the tour is complete. Now it is up to me to figure out how to participate. And therein lay the real challenge—to develop social skills in an alien environment. It was both easier, and in some ways more difficult than I ever imagined.
(continued in part 3)
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Myths and Realities of the Lifestyle: Recounted by a Lifestyle Club Virgin - Part 1
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Posted:Jan 21, 2016 4:41 pm
Last Updated:Jan 24, 2016 4:49 am
6181 Views
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I have never liked signing contracts. I always feel like I’m missing something, some kind of fine print that says I must donate a kidney or worse. But in this case the contract is more of a formality. I have already paid my seventy dollar “single male” entrance fee to enter The Mystery Zone. A tall attractive man with a goatee reads me the important rules before I sign.
“By signing here you are acknowledging you know what kind of club this is, and that you are not a member of the press or law enforcement, nor are you soliciting .”
There are a few other legal issues I can no longer remember off the top of my head, but mostly they amount to “don’t be an ass.” I am a gentleman and pride myself on it. However, I am a single male, which in the world of the lifestyle seems to rank somewhere above primate but well below Neanderthal. And yet a lifestyle club like TMZ still makes sure to allow single males in at two nights a week. I was surprised to learn this. I always assumed single males were not allowed into the lifestyle, that you had to be part of a couple or receive a special invite from a club member. In fact, this myth is so prevalent that some scam artists on FriendFinder-x prey on men who want to come into the lifestyle but know nothing about it. But that is for another blog.
In a sense, I did receive a special invite this time. I could have come on my own, but I have a friend and escort. She’s someone I met on FriendFinder-x who shared the same curiosity I had for the online dating phenomenon, and she prefers to be compared to a sexy feline than use her real name. I won’t even use her FriendFinder-x screen name here, but will instead refer to her as my “lovely escort”. Together we step into an area I will call the main lobby.
The main lobby has a dance floor, a bar, and many tables. The lights are kept low and the music ranges from Latin salsa to country. One section of the lobby has a store for special play outfits. One tall, well cut woman with large breasts walks past me in a see-through top, and the normalcy of the lobby begins to wear off a little.
My excitement grows. My lovely observes my reaction and looks at me as if to say, “you haven’t seen anything yet.”
She gestures toward an entryway partially concealed by curtains and leads me through.
“And this room is the naughty area,” my lovely explains.
At first it feels like I have walked from a normal bar into a strip club. This room is bathed in red light and two smoking hot women are dancing around a pole while men watch. The room has two square areas of comfortable couches with dancing poles in the middle. This strip cloud has a large television screen playing porno movies, which is a nice touch. I place my beverages on a table and prepare to take a seat, when one of the women, a blonde with short hair kneels down and begins sucking the cock of one of the men sitting on the couch. I try not to stare, but my virgin eyes are too excited. My saves me by continuing with the tour.
“Come on,” she says. “Let me show you my favorite area.”
(To be continued in Part 2)
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Martial - An Erotic Short Story
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Posted:Nov 4, 2015 8:01 pm
Last Updated:May 14, 2024 8:31 am
10760 Views
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I wrote this several years ago I think and just spent some time on a re-edit. Its hard to improve on old works sometimes because as a writer your style and voice changes, but I still really like this one. Tell me what you think.
MARTIAL
Trey held the wooden training sword over his head with perfect form and slowly inhaled. He slid forward on his front foot and let the weapon fall as he exhaled. It all happened in slow motion. He could stop the sword at any point along its cut. And yet he could feel where the blade wavered, where he tried to control its path too much. He needed to fix that. He needed to keep training. Breath in breath out. Step and cut. Raise the sword. Cut again.
Training alone could be dull. He wasn’t progressing. He needed someone to train with him. Someone to teach. The same movements over and over would in time sharpen his skills like a blade on the grindstone. But he was bored. The true martial artists always sought a partner. Someone to test them, find their flaws, and make them better. That's what the martial arts were about after all. They weren't about trophies or how many bricks someone could break with their bare hands, or how quickly someone could beat a man into a pulp in an octagon shaped ring.
The arts were about peace. True, they could be a swift and deadly force of destruction, but the objective of every serious martial artist train the mind even more than the body. Trey Freedman preferred the art of Aikido. The versatility and adaptability of the art to handle any situation against any number of attackers gave the art a real world edge. You would never see it in competition. Most encounters would end far too quickly if the artist was trained well.
Some arts were designed to kill or maim no matter the conflict, but Aiki could be adjusted to deal with the stupid and rowdy drunk without causing injury. Conversely it could absolutely destroy the men trying to force you or a loved one into a van.
Trey finished his five hundredth cut and took one more deep breath to restore his energy and focus. He slid the blade along his arm and fit it into his hand as if it were a sheath at his side. He bowed and headed for the door of the small yoga mat room at the local gym near his new home. Trey looked at himself in the wall-sized mirrors. This studio was part of a small health club. This room was mostly for yoga and dance classes. People gave him odd looks if they saw him practice. He always came early in the morning for that reason. His grey muscle shirt was crowned with damp sweat spots, and his lean muscular chest heaved with each breath. He grinned at himself and smoothed his damp, dark brown hair. His short, military style cut was not long enough to worry about fixing. He winked at himself in congratulation of another good workout. His green eyes sparkled, but his smile faded.
Trey was tired of training alone. He longed for his old dojo in Arizona. The weather was much to cool here for his taste. The move had been necessary to stay ahead in his career. Trey had tried to start a new school on his own beginning here at the local gym. He was high enough ranking to teach beginning to intermediate students fairly well, and he had figured that the lure of a martial arts program at the gym would have brought in at least a few curious students. The gym was even more surprised that Trey wanted to do the class for free, and out of curiosity and in the name of publicity, the gym managers had let him announce his class.
Yet no one had come. Aikido was just not well known as either a workout or a viable means of self-defense. After all, the most basic skills of Aikido took years to develop, and most people simply did not have the patience. Trey packed up his sword in its protective tube-shaped bag and prepared to leave.
He reached for the door to the small mat room, beyond which was the main workout area. This area was, of course decorated with rows and rows of weight and cardio machines facing small portable televisions. But the door opened toward him before he reached it, and a beautiful young woman stumbled into the room.
She wore basic cotton sweat pants and a sky blue tank top supported by a black sports bra. She was curved like a swimsuit model and only a few inches shorter than he was. Her midriff glistened from some kind of warm up workout. Trey stumbled back in surprise.
She giggled in embarrassment and brushed a strand of blond hair from her face.
"Oh, sorry," the woman said in a cheerful song-like voice. "I was looking for the uh… self-defense class?"
"Well," Trey said, scratching the back of his head. What class was she talking about?
He had asked to put up a notice on the gym’s website the week before that he could teach a martial arts class early in the morning, but he did not follow up to see if they had actually given him the slot. More than likely she was looking for some kind of cookie cutter gym self-defense class that taught women to kick for the groin or something stupid like that.
"Is that what they called it? Self defense?”
She nodded. “Its what it said on the website. Six A.M. Are you the teacher?”
“Well, what I teach isn’t exactly self-defense, but it is a martial art and it will be better than any so called self-defense class these protein shake jockies would teach you."
The woman gave a small nod and smiled politely as she brushed back a lock of her platinum blond hair from her face.
"Uh, never mind," Trey said as he made to brush past her. "I think you want the class on Monday's and Fridays."
She caught him by the arm.
"Oh, no. Tell me about what it is you teach. I'm interested."
She looked up at him with pleading blue eyes. The twinkled at him. His breath caught in his throat as her breasts brushed against his bicep.
"Please."
Trey felt something inside him melt just a bit. He wanted more than a student from this girl. Could he keep it professional?
"S-sure," he said after a long moment. "What was your name?"
"Emily," she said, shaking his hand firmly.
"Nice to meet you Emily," Trey said. "I have a feeling you are going to like this art."
**************************************************************
Emily progressed quickly over the next two weeks, and she loved every moment of it. Trey was a good teacher. He was kind, patient, and willing to commit himself completely to teaching her. She got the feeling he wanted to make her even better than him. He was also easy on the eyes. She couldn't believe she was still his only student, but she certainly didn't mind.
They began the training session as they always did, by practicing the solo kata. Emily still felt awkward and clumsy going through the motions. She still watched Trey's feet and tried her best to mimic him as he moved, turned, and slid through a very simple dance that covered all four cardinal directions. She was supposed to have the sensation of what Trey called "falling" as she moved, but to her it only felt like tripping.
Emily took a deep breath as they finished. She turned to face the mirrors and adjust the white belt of her gui. She wore a white t-shirt underneath to protect her modesty, but Trey didn’t bother with anything underneath. Trey's gui hung slightly open, and she could glimpse his bare chest. His pecs were deceptively large under his broad shoulders, and his entire front was smooth and hairless. She could eat off him. She tried to get another look at the way his lean stomach lead to the v-shape at his hips, but he adjusted his gui and closed it tight with a tug of his belt. He turned after a deep breath and smiled at her.
"Good!" he said cheerfully. "You're starting to get the hang of the movement."
She beamed at him. If he followed the same format, next he would give an overview of the day’s lesson. Sometimes he began with a boring lecture. His soft voice always drew her in and made her listen, but too much explanation still made her go cross-eyed with questions. Other times he would simply start walking her through movements. It drove her crazy when he did that. He always stood so close, and sometimes his breath would linger on the back of her neck. She kind of wanted him that close again, but she was already needing his help less and less.
"We’ll start today with the four sections of the Misubi Renshu that you've already learned, and then I thought it would be fun to try starting you out on some ground work today."
Emily wrinkled her brow. "Umm, Mish-rubi what now? Which one is that?"
Trey laughed. The sound was musical to her, but she still blushed. This stuff was still so foreign to her and the last thing she wanted was to seem goofy in front of this gorgeous guy. Could he tell how uncomfortable and exposed his gaze made her feel?
If he could, Trey didn't let it show. He merely bowed low at the waist, a formal Japanese tradition before beginning the next round of training. Emily bowed in return, and once again made the simplest task seem clumsy and awkward.
Trey stepped forward and presented his wrist for her to attack, and suddenly she remembered which kata he was talking about. Trey had explained that it wasn't like in other martial arts where the teacher might say, "this is what you do if someone grabs your wrist." Instead, it was a simple drill of balance and counterbalance. It reminded her of a dance, but it was designed to teach sensitivity to the connection that forms between two people. Or something like that. Trey always got so detailed with the physics, and he prattled on again about posture and recovering balance as she tried to remember where her feet were supposed to go.
They took turns, going back and forth with the simple motions as he guided her body harmlessly past him, and then she attempted to do the same to him as he attacked her wrist. It was a strange but powerful little ballet, and she smiled as she made him bend over backwards. He tapped his chest to communicate that she had him under control.
"Good!" Trey complimented as he gracefully recovered his posture. "You're coming along smoothly with releasing energy. So let’s try something a little different today."
Trey sat cross legged on the ground before her, and when she just stood there for a moment, he indicated she should do the same.
"Now," Trey said in the cute little way he did when he started to try and explain things. "It's a common myth that most fights go to the ground, and people will even show you statistics to try to prove this. Plus, you see it all the time in cage fighting nonsense like ultimate fighter championships and what have you. But the truth is, those statistics often come from police reports, where police officers are trained to take their perpetrators to the ground, and mixed martial arts fighters train specifically to take on one opponent in a one on one match. They don't have to worry about the guy's buddies who might be hiding in the shadows jumping in to help. So, you want to avoid letting a fight get to the ground if you possibly can, and Aikido is designed to do that."
Emily nodded. Everything was making sense so far. At least he wasn't speaking in Japanese yet.
"Now, Tasidori, or the art of ground fighting originates with Judo and . . ."
There he went again. Emily started to zone out a little, nodding politely as Trey went into how the physics on the ground were exactly the same as if they were standing. Whenever she got lost like this it helped to just concentrate on his smile, and it seemed the entire world just made sense. What was wrong with her? This guy was her teacher. There had to be some kind of rule about liking him this way.
"Emily," said his voice into her thoughts. She didn't quite hear him.
"Emily, come on, this first pin is easy. I won't bite I promise."
Trey had sprawled out on the ground, his gui slightly open and his face toward turned her smiling. He looked like he was modeling for the cover of GQ magazine.
She needed . . . air conditioning. She glanced at the ceiling. Where was that vent?
You won’t bite, Emily thought. But I might. She crawled toward him.
"Now, cradle my head in your arm like this, hold it tight to your hip."
"Like this?" Emily asked, yanking on his head and locking her arm around his neck.
"No, wait," Trey said, grunting. "Scoop more, your body and leg should be forty five to perpendicular to mine. Yes! Ack. That's right. Now, roll a little more on your side, your legs should form a right triangle with where you have my head locked as the point."
"I think I got it," Emily said excitedly. "This is fun!"
"Now," Trey panted as she leaned down on his chest a little more. "Anywhere I move you should be able to shuffle your feet and move with me, keeping me pinned. Let's try it. Are you ready?"
Emily’s jaw dropped. "Oh hell no. You’re crazy. There's no way I'm going to be able to hold you. You're too strong."
Trey grunted. "Strength doesn't matter here. It's just like if we were standing. If you keep this posture and this pressure, my body can't fight gravity to get up. Trust me. Get ready."
Emily took a breath and set her jaw. "Ok."
Trey spun in a circle and he moved so abruptly that Emily almost lost her grip on him. He was powerful and quick, but Emily found with surprise that she could feel everything he tried to do and she adjusted before he could get free. She squealed in triumph when he at last gave up his thrashing and lay flat, panting.
"Good!" Trey beamed. "See? Easy right?"
"I guess I'm just a natural," Emily said with a boastful shrug, as she continued to press down on him. "There's really no way out of this then?"
"Of course there is," said Trey. "I just have to take your center back."
Suddenly Trey bent at the belly, pressed a hand against her hip, and the next thing she knew he was laying on top of her, with her head cradled in his arms in the exact position she had just been in. Her eyes widened.
"Hey, no fair!" she protested.
"Don't worry," Trey said grinning down at her. God he had beautiful eyes. "I'll teach you that next. It's all part of the training plan."
Emily felt her heart race in her ears. They were both sweating. He was smiling that smile again. She was completely helpless against him. But she had one move he did not know about. He had been saying all along she should just let her movements become instinct instead of fighting them. So she acted on instinct, and kissed him.
It was just a light kiss. A small peck, as her straining neck could barely move her lips into position. But it surprised him, and he loosened his grip. Then he returned the kiss with a better one. A moment later and they were studying the way two bodies connected through their tongues. He tasted of salt and sports drink, and he was powerful but not smothering. It was bliss.
Then it ended, and far too soon. Trey broke it off and quickly stood.
"I-I'm sorry," Trey said. "I shouldn't have done that. We should close for the day."
"No. No, it's alright." Emily said. "It's my fault. I got carried away."
Trey turned, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can keep teaching you. At least for a while. Maybe if we get some more students I . . ."
She took his hands in hers, and to her surprise, he let her. She bowed, even though she was close to him.
"Onegaishimas," she said. "Please teach me."
"This is going to get complicated," Trey said.
She touched his cheek lightly. "I don't mind if you don't."
"Alright," he said with a huge grin. "Let's do this."
***********************************************************************
The rest of the training session that day was, a bit tense. Trey could have cut the pheromone soup in the air with a knife. But somehow they got through it, professionally. It had been difficult for him. Taisidori required close contact on the ground, and whenever he got hard he had to stop and lecture. Afterward, he considered asking her out. Maybe if they got to know each other better off the mat, then it wouldn't feel so awkward while they were training together.
And yet he couldn't do it. She walked away with a small disappointed frown as he bid her farewell. It wasn't as if he were too shy or felt unworthy of such a beautiful girl. There was something about her that drove him crazy. Deep down he was afraid to face it. He didn't see her again until she stepped back onto the mat again the following week and bowed in to him with a polite little smile.
Trey had never tried to train with a giant elephant in the room before. Emily was doing her best to carry on as if nothing had happened last week. She was listening intently, nodding her head, asking questions. Just like she always did. She was a very teachable student, and usually made the corrections he offered on the first try.
The elephant was finally exposed when he tried to show her how to perform the first technique of the ju nana hon kata. The kata represented seventeen standard techniques. These were all "middle of the road" techniques that could be creatively modified or linked depending on the situation. They all were practiced off the same basic attack, a simple forward push to the chin that, when done correctly, would lock the spine of the person being attacked and cause them to fall—as if their legs were literally swept out from under them.
The first technique taught to all students was the most difficult for a reason. It set the standard for the rest of the kata. The idea of the technique was simple. Move off the line of attack a small amount by turning perpendicular to the attack, and touch the attacking person's wrist. This would draw the attacker off balance and cause him to have to take an extra step to keep from falling over. If he could get Emily to understand that causing a person to take an extra step made any action they took next predictable, she would in time become a deadly warrior.
Trey bowed to Emily and identified himself as the attacker. He moved really slow in his attack, giving her a chance to remember where her hands and feet should go. She hit all the right points on the first try, though she was stiff and unrelaxed, and obviously nervous. Trey took a fall so she could feel how his body should be have if she did the technique correctly. But she was too stiff to follow him. She stood there like a statue trying to look proud. The air had to be cleared between them or she would never be able to relax. How should he talk to her about his feelings? What if he came off as creepy? He didn't want to lose her as a student.
Trey got up, set his distance, and attacked again. She did a good job of maintaining eye contact and staying focused. But too focused. This time she didn't move far enough, and her arm bent at the elbow when it should have stayed straight. The mistake drew him directly into her. Trey couldn't stop his momentum, and as he fell forward they both toppled to the ground. Trey smiled sheepishly down at her.
“You, um, you have to think push. Or this is what happens.”
She smirked back up at him. “Then maybe I did it on purpose. Ever think of that?”
He didn't get up right away. He was transfixed, lost in her eyes. Her parted lips and panting breath called to him, and despite every warning bell in his mind, he kissed her.
Trey didn't hold back this time. He didn't try to stop, didn't care that someone might walk in from the outer gym at any moment, or that the door wasn't locked. Nobody ever came into this little mat room anyway. Not at this hour in the morning. The risk of being walked in on left his mind. He wanted her. Only that mattered now. The enthusiastic way she kissed him and clawed with her hands on his back indicated she felt the same.
He propped himself up slightly and straddled one of her legs as he tugged at her belt. He flicked his tongue gently behind her ear, leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw line. He gave a low growl as he tore open her gui and began to work his hands up her smooth belly under her white undershirt. She arched her back and moaned into his mouth while he tried to work free the clasps of her sports bra.
Then she shocked him by crossing her arms and grabbing his gui just below the throat. She kicked out and rolled hard, pinning him to the mat and choking him as she began to kiss his neck. She was taking control, and he liked it.
Then she threw his gui open wide as she worked her way down and began to kiss his smooth, slick chest. He writhed underneath her and moaned as she took one of his nipples into her mouth.
"Emily," he gasped as she tugged at his pants in an effort to slide them down. Her teeth scraped over to his neglected second nipple and a jolt of lightning sparked through his body as he tried to speak. "Emily, we ca…oh…not here!"
Emily wasn't listening. Her head was already even with his abdomen, and her hands fumbled at the string ties to his pants. He squirmed as he felt her breath between his legs. She gave a small grunt of triumph as his pants slid down at last. Swiftly, he hooked his legs under her arms and rolled, pinning her again as he pressed against her face with his crotch.
She squirmed as her teeth scraped against the rapidly swelling rod of his manhood through his boxer briefs. Her saliva dampened the cloth, and Trey barely kept his sanity as he turned a hundred and eighty degrees to face her feet. It took only a second to put her in a new hold. She barely resisted.
His knees were flush against the top of her shoulders. They bracketed her head on either side as he clutched at her legs with his arms. Unless she applied the proper balance break, there was no way out of this. Emily didn't want out. Instead, she pulled down his briefs with her teeth, and his erection spilled out onto her face. Trey smiled as Emily give a little gasp of delight.
“Oh, fuck, you’re big,” she breathed. “I could always kind of tell but . . . ah!”
Trey had undone the string ties on her own pant and pushed them down. Kissing the inside of her thighs made her stop talking. Sliding a finger underneath her panties to test her wetness made her cry out. But he nearly lost it when his engorged member fell neatly into her mouth. Neither of them talked again. There was no need for talk anymore. Her mouth was so warm, and she hummed onto him as her tongue worked around his shaft in a furious motion. He couldn't help but buck his hips. He feared he would choke her, but when her tongue lapped against his balls he forgot all caution.
He pumped his hips, loving her soft eager moans as she felt her hands pressed against his hamstrings - dangerously close to his balls, which he enjoyed keeping shaven for freedom of movement. He slowly peeled down her white cotton panties with the thumb of each hand. He inhaled deeply and paused to take in her subtle feminine aroma.
She trembled as he planted his lips softly just above her clit, and her thighs rolled inward to embrace his head as his fingers gently brushed, then slide apart her rapidly swelling pink petals. He broadened his tongue to taste her fully as he flicked it down the length of her moist shaven center, and she groaned onto him, making him shiver.
He began to lick faster and she gasped in response, releasing him from the skilled trappings of her beautiful mouth. Encouraged, he slid two fingers slowly inside her, relishing the way she parted and accepted him. She was on fire between her legs, soaked with the warm stick sauce of her lust for him. And she tasted sweeter than any woman he could remember. He took a deep breath and buried his face between her legs, relishing her salty tanginess as his tongue plunged deep between his stroking fingers.
She flexed her legs, and Trey realized she was trying to roll them both over. Excited, he helped them roll on the mat. The suction of her hungry mouth intensified as he found her supple body spread across him, and gravity allowed him to flick a hardened tongue into her even deeper than before. This was no longer a martial art but an art of love making. A true sixty nine.
Outside the doors to the tiny mat room, weights clanked, rock music blared, and muffled voices carried casual conversation – more people were coming into the gym. They were less and less alone by the minute. Trey didn't care. All he cared about was her and being with her. Finally he was finding release for several weeks of stored up passion. Her body stiffened and her inner walls clenched around his tongue, and he gave a satisfied moan as her breath caught in a strangled scream and she came for the first time. Trey vowed it wouldn't be the last, and his vision blurred and narrowed. He had to have her now.
He slid easily out from under her and crept beside her as she lay panting on the mat. She was still recovering her breath as he pulled her pants the rest of the way off and kissed the back of her neck. She looked back at him with wild wide eyes as realization of his intent hit her. He lifted her hips, positioning himself behind her.
She felt slick and hot around him as he slowly eased his cock inside. He thought he was losing his mind, was he actually doing this here? She was his student. This was a line you were never supposed to cross. But she moaned, her body so inviting, his need too great. Her silky walls trembled, massaging him slowly as he experimentally withdrew from her and then, changed his angle slightly with the next slow thrust.
Trey moaned a deep primal sound as her soft womanly petals seemed to protest and cling to him each time he withdrew. Her whole core contracted around him and shuddered in exquisite thanks each time he rammed back into her. Delicately, carefully, as if he were helicopter engine revving from a slow start, Trey began to slam and slap his body harder and harder into her. His thighs slapped against her ass and the exquisite site of the way her curves rippled drove him into a frenzy until at last he abandoned all care and called out her name.
Emily. The name of the most amazing woman he had ever met.
**********************************************************************
Emily shushed him as she crawled to her knees and let him take her from behind. She was sure someone was going to hear them, or worse, walk in. Her knees rubbed and began to turn red against the shiny blue mat. She bit down on her own wrist as she cried out. And then Trey called her name again.
She couldn't help but cry out after that. The feel of him inside her, spreading her and massaging her very core with each thunderous clap of his body was sending her world and her conscious spinning. Lightning began to spread through her body as a rolling thunder began to build in her belly and threaten to spill over like a levy about to burst under the severe tide brought on by a hurricane.
His nails dug into her ass and he grabbed her hair, snapping her head and body back as she arched back into him. She ground her hips whenever she actually had the presence of mind. He was so big, so powerful, and yet so lovingly connected to her that the lightning and heat coursing through body did not damage her, but caused her breath to come in sharp wheezes and gasps. Her voice grew hoarse from her own cries, and for a moment…just a blessed moment, she felt outside her own body…completely free.
And then the levy broke . . .
She gave a final scream until there was no more air in her lungs as her body spammed and trembled and she lay panting. Dimly, she realized he was still going!
His hands laid gently on her quivering ass as he slowed his pace to almost a crawl.
"Oooh baby, yes," Trey told her in between panting breaths. "You….are so…amazing.
"Oh…," She whimpered. "Oh Trey. Wow."
"You want to call it a day?" Trey asked soothingly. "Get out of here, go do something?"
Emily considered as she began to pull her pants back on, leaning and cuddling into him for support. She barely had time in her life for this training. Her job was constantly unpredictable, and Trey didn't even know that she was still trying to take care of her ailing grandmother when nobody else in her family could
And yet, as she looked into Trey's eyes, she felt like she could, and would follow him anywhere. She was safe with him, safe here in his arms. She felt so . . . free.
"Yes, Trey," She said. I'll follow you anywhere.
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To Be the Hero - My debut FriendFinder-x Blog
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Posted:Nov 3, 2015 7:39 pm
Last Updated:Nov 9, 2015 7:08 pm
7471 Views
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I'm a writer/author and I never put together a blog for this site yet, so I am surprised at myself. I guess I figured I should be working on my books or helping to edit the books of my author friends. Only one woman ever gave me the impression she would read these, and I think I missed out on her when I did not have one. I don't want to miss out anymore. Instead, I am going to start sharing more about myself. And the thing that made me want to do it was my recent experience in Colombia.
Yes Colombia the country, not the city in Missouri. The city is spelled different. I was there for the climax of my job - a contracted assignment to teach the Colombian Air Force how to use their new command and control software. It was a fun job and I made a lot of friends. I also met a hot Colombian woman. Ladies, you are always concerned with your breast size, but let me tell you that for me nothing beats a nice round booty.
I had no intention of going any further with this young woman beyond fun times. She did not even speak my language. But I quickly began to learn hers. And yes, I learned to say more than "Hay Mami! Que Rico! tomalo!" or culo Hermosa miamor!"
I ended up falling for her. Damn it. I knew better, but I could not help myself. She was a woman strong enough to leave her controlling husband, but had lost custody of her youngest . And so she revealed to me that she had turned to to save for a house so she could get her back.
And my need to be the hero kicked in. I thought I could help her. I became not only her sugar daddy but someone able to give her a few things she had never before been able to experience in her life. Scuba diving and a flight to a tropical island getaway for example. But I could not save her. For a month she wanted me. And then she began to inexplicably push away. It drove me mad as well as hurt me. And she became less and less honest in ways that I knew she was lying but could never prove. And to call her out on the dishonesty would for some reason earn me a lecture about trust. In Spanish.
Wise people always say you can't help those who do not want to be helped. And yet, this one wanted the help. But not really. She wanted the easy rescue, and when she realized that my time and effort was going to be a long process, to include a very long distance relationship, she began to use me instead of love me.
I have a hero complex ladies. I even enjoy being the sugar daddy. But this is the second time I have tried to pull someone from darkness and failed. I suppose the moral of this story is that I know what it is to be used, and so if you end up with me as a friend, you can be sure I will never be using you. I may foolishly try to save you, but I have a feeling most of you are far too independent for that. But if any of you wants to keep me coming back, make me feel like your hero.
And I would say that is good advise for any woman trying to win the heart of their man or trying to tame their bad boy. Make them feel like the super hero, and they will want to stay with you.
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To link to this blog (Dreamland0516) use [blog Dreamland0516] in your messages.
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