Confidence is Sexy ** Laughter is Sexy ** Smart is Sexy ** Passion is Sexy ** Peace is Sexy ** Authenticity is Sexy ** Playfulness is Sexy
#JustSaying #OwnYourLight #WomenArePowerfulAsFuck
<3 <3 <3
This scene came out of nowhere, and apparently, I had to jot it down. And… it’s in Alrik’s POV. #Interesting
Could this be the beginning of Avelynn 3?
Alrik ran his hand along the worn rail, the wood cool and wet, the mist blanketing the hull in a shroud of silence. They’d all know of his betrayal and exile. Raven’s Blood skulked like a wounded dog, her numbers greatly reduced from her altercations in Wales, though no one would be fool enough to think her crippled. At close to fifty crew, she was still formidable, but dissent and bitterness trailed the aft like a festering dung heap. Those looking would smell it a hundred knots away.
“How much longer?” Tollak leaned his hip against the steering board—the rudder as useless as the compass stone since the fog descended and they’d dropped anchor.
Alrik ran a hand through his hair. There was no splitting the veil. “Another day, perhaps?”
At the least the sea rolled quiet. Despite the otherworldly chill, he’d gladly take fog over a tempest. He glanced around the crew. “How many?”
Tollak frowned. “At least half.”
Alrik nodded. That was to be expected. At least twenty men would stand by him, offering protection for the ship and Avelynn. It would be a good number to present to his uncle Rurik in Novgorod, if he accepted them. Only the Gods knew their fate. The rest of the men would return home to Gotland and Sweden. They owed him nothing.
Here it is: short but oh, so sweet. The Climax to Pamela and the Plumber!
If you haven’t read Part One… start here first!
Ready for Part Two… click here!
DISCLAIMER: Just a reminder, this is raw, uncensored, unedited first draft stuff. All mistakes are my own and hopefully you won’t notice too many of them, lol. 😉
Rick lifted me off the vanity, and I stalked forward, crawling along the chair on all fours and wrapped my lips around the tip of Paul’s cock, my hand taking over where his left off.
Some girls didn’t like giving blow jobs. I could never understand why. The sound of a man’s breath hitching, the feel of their thigh muscles twitching, their hand gripping your hair… what the hell wasn’t there to love?
Rick slipped in behind me and grabbed my ass, hitching my pussy into his face. A deep vibration escaped my mouth, wrapping around and caressing Paul as Rick’s tongue stroked my clit.
Jesus fucking Christ. Everything blurred into a kaleidoscope of sensation. My mouth pumping, swallowing every rigid inch, Paul’s hands kneading my breasts, flicking and pinching my nipples, Rick’s tongue lapping at my center, his fingers slipping in and out.
Hands and mouths molded and sculpted, creating a tower of ecstasy, lifting me to the heights of passion, coiling in my spine, rocketing me to a precipice I didn’t know existed.
Rick sucked hard on my clit, and I gasped, taking Paul deeper. The heady combination sent me careening over the edge, taking me on a leap of faith, leaving me adrift in hazy euphoria, as my body pulsed with endless spasms.
From some far-flung distance, I was vaguely aware that my plumbers had switched positions, and Paul pressed the tip of his cock inside me. I moaned as sensitive flesh stretched to accommodate him. I fisted Rick’s shaft and pulled hard with my lips, milking and stroking, growling with urgency. A primal need to devour and conquer seized me. I wanted to make them cum. I wanted them to shatter inside me.
Paul drew me back, a slow torture, a cruel ploy, and I pressed my ass against him, desperate. I wanted his cock filling me, bursting me open. He met my push with a driving thrust, causing pinpricks of light to flit across my vision as an exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain coiled deep inside my pussy.
A battery of new sensations churned and boiled like an alchemist’s solution, turning my body into an ecstatic frenzy of desire and need. My mouth and hand met, over and over, sucking and pulling Rick deep into my throat, urged on by feral grunts and the rapid pulse of his breath.
Paul matched the desperate rhythm of my efforts with hard violent strokes of his own, expanding and spreading me completely,
Then, as if they were master play-makers, and the coach had given them the go ahead for their signature knock-out punch, Rick squeezed my nipples while Paul reached around and slam-dunked my clit like a goddamn rock star.
I cried out as Rick pumped his cock, gasping as he came, covering my chest with the strength of his climax. My body disintegrated, each part exploding in a blinding onslaught of light, over, and over, and over again. The orgasm ripped through me and kept me captive as Paul stiffened, his body caught in the throes of his own release as he twitched and softened within me.
When I came back to my senses, the three of us lay in a convoluted heap on the lounge chair.
Paul kissed my belly button, running his fingernails along the insides of my thighs while Rick nibbled on the curve of my neck, his stubble sending shivers racing along my skin.
“I think you passed,” I said to Paul, my body limpid and flushed with a languid glow.
Paul nipped at my hip. “That was just the preliminaries.”
Looking for more HOT stuff? Check out Stephanie and Stephan’s steamy story! Here’s Part One to get you started.
DISCLAIMER: This is first draft stuff. 🙂
If you haven’t read part one of this hot story… check it out here first!
“I’m Paul, the hotel sent me to help.” He handed me a business card for Childs’ Brothers: Laying pipe day and night, as big as you need and as deep as you want.
“I understand you’re having some plumbing issues. I’d like to start with your tap,” he said and waited for me to usher him in.
“The bathroom is through the bedroom then around the corner.”
He nodded and made his way through the suite while I closed the door behind him. By the time I made it to the bathroom, he already had the vanity doors open, his flashlight shining into the dark cavity.
“This might take a while. Please, have a seat.” He motioned to the lounge chair.
I sat as instructed, placing his business card on the window ledge.
He unclasped his tool belt and set it on the floor near his feet. “It’s awfully warm in here,” he said while shrugging off his Oxford button down. The shirt landed in a heap on top of the belt.
I licked my lips. Sculpted back muscles rippled into a narrow waist, and when he bent over to have a look under the sink, his jeans slid a couple inches off his hips, affording me a delightful view of the top of his ass.
After a few minutes of poking around the drain pipe, he extricated himself and dusted his hands across his pants. “Done.” He turned on the tap. Water rushed unimpeded into the sink.
Case closed, he shut off the valve and turned to me, hands on his hips, his jeans slipping a little lower. I had the sudden urge to trail my fingernails through the tangled curls on his chest, following the indents between his pecs and washboard abs until they dropped lower, and I could help him out of those ill-fitting pants once and for all.
“I’d like to take care of your flow problem now.” He stalked over to my chair.
“My flow problem?” Those jeans were within reach.
“Yes, I’d like to make you very wet.” His grin smoldered, one side of his mouth twitching upwards.
I wanted to trap those smirking lips between my teeth. I volleyed the serve back. “It’s a serious dilemma. I’d appreciate it if you could fix it for me.”
“It would be my pleasure.” He fished his phone from his back pocked. “But first, I need to let the office know I’ll be putting in some overtime on this one.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t want you in trouble on my account.”
He finished texting his message and tucked the phone away. “Now, where were we?” He held out his hand, and I took it as he guided me out of the chair.
“I believe you were going to make me very wet.” I sidled up to him, glad to finally be getting down to business. I ran my hands up his forearms, gliding over his biceps and shoulders before threading my way into the course hair of his chest. Eager to follow the happy trail to see what kind of rigid tool awaited beneath that taunting zipper, I inched my exploration lower then froze.
Someone knocked on the door. I tried to ignore it, but the clamour continued.
“Excuse me. Don’t move.” I left my plumber, who had already been deliciously effective in getting my taps running, and answered the door.
“Good evening, Miss. I’m Rick Childs, Paul’s brother. I’m here to oversee his work.”
My mouth dropped. Dressed in an identical uniform as Paul, the only thing distinguishing the two brothers was the fact Rick stood in my doorway.
“We’re twins.” He delivered the line as a matter of fact, not something that had the potential to blow my fucking mind.
I nodded, my normal cheeky wit suddenly mute.
“Is he still in the bathroom?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, straight through there.”
As he wandered off in search of his brother, I took stock. I’d mentioned in my questionnaire that one of my fantasies involved a threesome, but I never expected Pleasure Inc. to stack one experience on another. I remembered some of the other things I’d expressed, rather explicitly, in that survey, and my heart raced.
Rick sat on the chair, and I found Paul where I’d left him, waiting by the vanity. He ran his finger under the strap of my dress, inching the fabric down my arm. “You don’t mind if my brother watches do you? I’m almost finished my apprenticeship. This is my last test.”
I glanced at Rick, who rubbed at a considerable hard on, pressing against the fabric of his jeans. My stomach clenched, moisture flowing between my legs. At this rate, Paul would have a flood on his hands. I wondered if that would constitute a pass or fail? “Anything I can do to help.”
Like the atmosphere after a lightning storm, the air around me pulsed with electricity, my nerves firing in rapid succession, catching every inch of my body up to speed on what could potentially happen.
Paul slid both straps down my arms, tugging the dress over my breasts and hips until it pooled around my feet. Running his fingers down my thighs and calves, he knelt on the floor. He lifted one foot then the other, releasing me of the cumbersome garment. The back of his nails whisked up my foot, lingering on the ankle clasp of my shoes. “These can stay on.”
I’d spared no height restrictions with my heels and wore a killer pair of CFM stilettos.
He stood, lifting me in the process, and I squealed as he set my bare ass on the cold granite of the counter top. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Rick unzip his pants, drawing his hard cock out. He gripped the shaft, rubbing his hand up and down, his gaze never leaving mine. My head fizzed with arousal, leaving me lightheaded and aching with need.
Paul hooked his fingers around my thong and left them in a pile by my dress. “Spread your legs for me.”
I opened wide as he grabbed my ass, squeezing the cheeks hard, thrusting me forward. I had enough presence of mind to grasp the edge of the vanity before his tongue lighted on my clit. My head flung back, pressing against the mirror, as my hips arched upward.
I closed my eyes, relishing Paul’s masterful attention, delighting in the spasms pulsing through my legs as his fingers dove inside me.
“May I?” Rick’s voice, teasing beside my ear, snapped me out of my reverie. He stood completely naked beside his brother.
Paul acquiesced, letting Rick tuck between my legs.
“My brother forgot to pay these beautiful ladies some attention.” He unclasped my bra, releasing a cascade of cleavage into his waiting hands. My nipples tightened and peaked as his thumb rubbed the straining nubs. His cock twitched against my clit, his pelvis pressed tight against mine. The intimate touch caused my pussy to clench with need. I wanted that pipe in me as deep as it could go. I rocked my hips against him, easing some of the torture.
A quick look at Paul assured me he’d stripped off his jeans and underwear and had taken over residence on the lounge chair. Like his brother before him, he rocked a wicked hard on, his hand pumping. Their cocks were beautiful, not too big or wide, but smooth and ribbed with thick veins. Arousal jolted through me. I wanted them filling every inch of me. “I want you in my mouth.”
Want more? Read The Climax here!
Looking for other stories from Pleasure Incorporated? Check out Stephanie and Stephan’s story. 🙂
Stephanie and Stephan Part 1 https://wp.me/p85fwy-is
Stephanie and Stephan Part 2 https://wp.me/p85fwy-iI
Stephanie and Stephan The Climax https://wp.me/p85fwy-iW
Trying something COMPLETELY new here…
What do you think?
Music pulsed. Strobes flashed. Sweat dripped between my breasts and down my sides as I gave over to the bass, letting it move my hips, orchestrating my arms and legs to its hypnotic siren’s call. Drunk as fuck, I wandered lost in my racing heart beat, watching Emma move.
She took control of the song, wrapping it around her tight curves, bending and drawing my attention to every inch of her. She teased the edge of impropriety, flirting with sensuality, her dance provocative and addictive to watch.
She drove me insane. I couldn’t get enough. She occupied my dreams and filled my days with visions of tanned skin and a radiant smile that made me yearn for another taste of her. She drove me to distraction until I couldn’t focus on anything or anyone else.
She sidled up to me. Her chest pressed against mine, her groin grinding into my thigh as she straddled my leg. She glanced at me from beneath long dark lashes, a playful smirk flitting across her full lips. I knew that look well—a blazing image portending the promise of requited passion—and my stomach tightened. My hands ached to touch her bear arms, to run my fingernails through her raven black hair. The air sparked and crackled between us, an electrical current, raising the hair on my arms, snapping every nerve on edge.
She pulled away, a twist and turn manipulated by the rhythm. My eyes followed, drawing me forward. She controlled the string, a line invisible to all, but it pulled and lured me in until I had her pinned against the railing, my body a shield from the amorphous, grinding, pulsing crowd. She smelled like tropical islands and chocolate, and I leaned in close, inhaling her scent deep into my lungs, kissing the slender curve of her neck.
She held my waist, fingers tucking into the back pocket of my jeans. Her hips moved, enchanting me further, keeping me under her spell. I stroked the back of her neck, my hands fanning out, weaving their way through her hair. Her gaze locked with mine, and she smiled, melting my restraint, every muscle tumbling toward her.
Our lips met, a chaste encounter. Need coursed through my veins, and I cupped her face, holding her captive as I deepened the kiss, reveling in her taste, relishing her tongue teasing mine.
A million people ebbed around us, but I only saw her. The music slowed, a heavy beat throbbed from the speakers as her fingers slid down the front of my pants, inching their way between my legs. I gasped, losing my balance, as a finger slipped inside me.
“I want you,” she purred in my ear, her teeth grazing the edges.
Lightening fried my thoughts, leaving only a haze of desire in its wake. I gripped the railing, steadying myself as her fingers moved, slow and tortuous in time with the maddening tempo of the song. If we stayed there much longer, I was going to come in the middle of the dance floor.
Breath raged, I bit her lower lip, desperate. “Take me home.” It wasn’t a question or a statement, it escaped as a plea—a reverent prayer. She held the power. She controlled my heart, my body, and my soul completely. There was no going back from this. Everything ordinary would forever seem dull and colourless. Her presence in my life had brought me to the peak of something extraordinary, and I never wanted to come down.
She withdrew her fingers, hooking one around a belt loop, pitching my hips against hers. “Chicken.”
Gauntlet thrown, I snuck my hand down the front of her jeans. Surging moisture greeted me, and my pussy clenched in response. She leaned her head back and moaned, loud enough for others to hear, her brazenness fueling my need. I found her clit and circled the engorged nub, rubbing, pressing, knowing it would be her undoing. She fisted my hair and kissed me with urgency, her body bucking against mine.
Everyone must have known what we were doing, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop. I could feel her climax building, and my body responded. Like a match to kerosene, my blood caught fire. Her nails bore into my neck, and she held me tight, her legs weakening as her orgasm built. I watched enthralled as her eyes softened and her cheeks flushed.
“Come for me.” I panted.
She let out a gentle cry, her body shattering beneath my touch. I held her there, shoring her up against the waves of people crashing against us. No one seemed to notice our dalliance. The crowd flowed with the strobes, swaying to the rhythm, allowing Emma and I to remain invisible, allowing me to take her to the heights of passion.
Hooded eyes, sexy and heavy with the weight of her release, caught my gaze and smiled. “Your turn.”
Imagine you’re standing on a rooftop, and there is a crowd below waiting to hear you speak. You only have one sentence, and that will be the last words the world remembers you by. It can’t be a sentence someone else might say. It has to be your own voice. Something uniquely you. What would you say? This is my sentence. #writingexercise