My middle finger was in the cleft of her ass, resting conspicuously against her anus. The tiny orifice puckered as though for a kiss while the pad of my finger caressed it. She looked back and up at me while I held her like this against the hotel room door as she fumbled to get the magnetic card into the electronic door lock. A maid was peering at us from down the hall.

Ah, yes. Romps in hotels.

Her pussy stays the wettest of any woman I have ever known. The sweetness literally pours from her. I suck her cunt and clit, alternating at times to push her protruding pink clit around with my tongue; teasing, toying, denying…

That last word— perfect. Although I admit fully: denying is nothing without fulfilling. Much later, of course.

Formal-wear can be so… formal, sometimes.

He studies her, and as he does so, he imagines himself amongst the party-goers, anonymous in black tuxedo and bow tie. He imagines the other men watching her, unable to drag their gazes away from her. He knows what they’ll be thinking. They’ll be wondering what it would be like to slip their hand inside the long slit on her dress and onto the warmth of her thigh. They’ll be wondering what it would be like to be alone with her, to take hold of the gown’s zip and draw it slowly downwards until the dress slides down her body and pools at her feet.

Well, and then there’s that.

I have always considered myself a pro when it comes to “cock worship.” There is nothing like having cock in my mouth– that mix of hard stone and the soft velvet of flesh combined with the saltiness of pre cum. There is a power I have when your cock is in my mouth. The sounds I can elicit from you with my tongue as it runs the backside of your shaft. The sigh that escapes my own mouth at the pleasure I get from having you this way.

No complaints here.

The only Major problem is that my birthday is St. Patrick’s Day, and I hadn’t accounted for the fact that an influx of drunk college kids that will undoubtedly be throwing beads and throwing up all over the town. Better to stay locked in rooms with hot tubs and cameras.

Best to avoid major problems on your birthday.

For ages I had wanted to write a ‘Coming of Dominant’ story. I had written several ‘Coming of Submissive’ stories to the point that they were threatening to bore me. As a dominant I wanted to tell a story closer to my own interests. I stumbled across doing so when I did ‘Volleyball Island Madd-ness’ but that was a comedy. Heck, it was also a female dominant, which is not quite me.

He crafts (erotic) fiction. And that is admirable.

I peel back thick draperies to let in the sun.
It’s balmy and bright outside; but hot as blazes in this skin.
I press bare breasts against the cool glass and sigh.

Poetry.