There’s a look
But not too much
The Crazy Worlds of Misty Carlisle
There’s a look
But not too much
There is a sense that to be sexy, especially as a woman, you have to show skin.
Not just any skin,
cleavage, breasts and butts need to be seen.
I say it ain’t so.
Sexy can be fully clothed
Sexy is competent
Sexy is fierce
Sexy is confident
Sexy is young
Sexy is old
Sexy is old fashioned
Sexy is… sexy
The brutes pinned me to the bed with my hands zip tied to the bed posts. I would have removed the mattress to make it less comfortable, but to each their own.
“Not so full of yourself, now, are you?” The brute on the left asked. They guy was a walking, talking cliche.
I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed. Whatever. I’d been trained for situations like this. My head was filled with confidential information and they had no way to get it out of me. If I died under their torture, so be it. By now, half the information would have been nullified anyway. The moment I went missing all the pass codes would change and I missed my check in half an hour ago.
The door opened and the goons snapped to attention. Oh, good. The main man himself was coming.
Only she wasn’t a man.
Her dress, if you could even call it that, barely covered the important bits. She had more cleavage than a cheer leading squad. Her legs went all the way up.
She moved without sound, like a ghost. The guy’s sneakers clicked on the floor, but not her stilettos. A wave of her hand and it was just the two of us behind a locked door. Then I knew fear. She didn’t have to say a thing and I knew by the end of the night I’d tell her everything and enjoy every minute of it.
I wouldn’t go without a fight.
She’d still win.
She already had the attention of my cock. He was at attention and doing his best to unzip my jeans. The zip ties cut into my wrists.
She sauntered along side the bed and looked me up and down. Her grin said she liked what she saw. I gave her the same assessment. Yeah, this would be the most fun I’d ever have in an interrogation.
“Well, now.” She ran a finger down my chest. “The boys really are stupid, but they have good taste.”
I had to control my breathing. “What do you mean?”
“I already have everything I need from your company.” She walked her fingers back up my stomach. “So I’ll give you a choice. We can play this out and you’ll have one of the best orgasms of your life, of I just let you go and berate my silly boys for bringing me something useless.”
Considering I was already halfway there, you can guess what I chose. She teased me horribly. Nipping at my nipples through my shirt, getting me almost off with a hand job over my jeans. Then it got interesting.
She straddled me, with my cock still contained, and ripped my shirt open. Her hands on my chest sent a fire to my cock. I bucked under her, but there was nothing I could do about it. She sucked each nipple until it was as hard and ready to fuck her as my cock.
“Don’t struggle too much, if you want to keep your hands.”
It took all my will to stay still. I didn’t even feel the pain in my wrists anymore. I didn’t feel anything that she didn’t touch. Except my cock which strained against my jeans.
Her hands moved slowly down my sides tracing fire everywhere she touched. I had to concentrate on holding still. She moved lower and found the waistband of my jeans. With the way she teased, I was sure they would just burn away. They weren’t that accommodating. I let out a moan as she toyed with the button. She toyed some more.
She put a finger to my lips, bringing her cooch over my trapped cock. She waited until I nodded. She got back down to my jeans and popped the button. Then opened the zipper one tooth at a time. My eyes rolled back as my cock sprang free. But she wasn’t done yet. She worked my jeans down over my hips and just far enough to bind my legs.
She rose to her feet, somehow no longer in those stilettos, still straddling me and shimmied out of her panties. Oh what a sight that was. The kind the priests tell you will make you go instantly blind. The priests are only half right. I can still see, but I don’t care about anything except that pretty pink cunt. I don’t want to see anything else.
I watched her lower herself like the big glowing ball on New Years Eve. I imagined the countdown from a shuttle launch. Ten… nine… eight… She moved with such grace and deliberate speed. Three… two… one… Contact. My cock to her cunt. She slid down my shaft, taking almost all of it. Then she rose up, pulling a whimper from my throat. Down again, this time crashing to a halt when her ass met my balls and I was fully consumed.
Her hips rolled and her cunt slid along my cock, pumping it from base to tip. Slow at first, then increasing the speed. Increasing the stimulation. I couldn’t hold still. My hips bucked against hers.
No objection from her this time. We found a rhythm. Bucking and rolling, gasping and panting. I wanted it so bad. I could feel it building. I grunted with each thrust, matching her moans.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I reared up into her and came. I could feel the pumping motion of my cock mirrored in her cunt.
“Perfect.” She whispered just before I passed out.
I’ve done a thing.
This time, I did it with my dear friend Sammie Maxwell
Now available for pre-sale, a short hot read for the cold start of the new year.
Two Erotica Authors
One HOT tub.
Jay Dee and K.S. Lovey have been trading stories, advice, and writerly support online for years. Now they’re sharing a room at an erotica convention. After a full day of panels and sessions learning all the latest techniques for adding heat to their writing, they relax in the hotel’s hot tub. One thing leads to another and the advice gets a little more, shall we say, hands on — solely for the purposes of research, of course.
A day at the beach
A day to be free
A day to feel the light caress of the breezy on my skin
A day to see the look on your face
A day to just be me
Let’s try this again. I present Topless Tuesday.
It’s steamy hot, right?