Tag Archives: Sexuality

Pleasure Incorporated: Pamela and the Plumber Part One

Pamela and the Plumber

DISCLAIMER: Just a reminder this is first draft stuff. 😀 Enjoy!

Mrs. Murphy handed me the envelope. The package lacked panache. Just a plain white #10, 20lb, standard, letter-sized utilitarian vessel. One would think for a clandestine hookup, it should have been black, or slipped to me under a magazine or something.

“Thanks,” I said, tucking it in my briefcase.

“Enjoy your encounter, Pamela.” Mrs. Murphy stood, her tailored pant suit wrinkled along her thighs from sitting.

I shook her hand and left the office. As I rode the elevator to the lobby, I wondered where Pleasure Incorporated found their ‘personal attendants.’ My criteria was very specific. I wanted a blue collar guy, clean, neat, with a solid bank of muscles, and actual hair on his chest. None of this waxed pecs shit. I wanted a plumber, or at least some guy to play the part of a plumber. Perhaps, it harkened back to my days playing Luigi to my older brother’s Mario, but I had a thing for a descent ass crack. When I was about seven years old, I walked into the kitchen one morning, still in my Hello Kitty pyjamas, to discover my mom leaning against the kitchen counter puffing away on a cigarette.

Our neighbor Thomas O’Malley had his head buried under our sink, his ass presented for all to see. At the time, I didn’t understand what I had walked in on, but I could sense the electricity in the air. In a cut-off tube top and tight jeans, my mom giggled and tossed her hair. Rarely up before noon, she even had on her heels—in the kitchen, at breakfast!

I blame my childhood for my obsession with plumbers and construction workers… frankly, anyone willing to drop to their knees and get dirty.

I hadn’t been able to find a spot right outside the building and had to park in the grocery store lot across the street. I swung into the driver’s seat, tossed my briefcase onto the passenger side, and pulled out the envelope.

I skimmed for the pertinent details: the Gladrock Hotel, Aqua Suite, 7pm. The room was ready immediately, and tomorrow morning a spa appointment had been arranged as requested. Thankfully, there wasn’t any information about my special guest for the evening. I had asked them to withhold a photo. I wanted the surprise. I grew bored easily and needed the excitement and rush of new experiences. I tucked the envelope away. This was going to be fun.

Of Pleasure Inc.’s ability to fulfill my fantasies, I had no doubt. How they planned on going about them created delicious anticipation and tension. I shifted in my leather seat. My body perked up, roused and ready to play.

The Gladrock stood on a prominent crossroads in the city, its front door almost colliding with the sidewalk. The lobby paired a sleek, curved walnut check-in area with oil paintings hung around graffiti inspired walls.

With my arrival expected, I checked in and took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, room key in hand. I’d never stayed in the hotel before. The owners held events every night, and each room had its own theme. Given my plans, I would miss tonight’s Burlesque show, where they teach you how to dance. The concierge assured me it would happen again, and I had made a mental note to pop in to that one in the future.

I swiped my key card and stepped into a groovy world of sculptures meant to look like coral, and soft ripples of light undulating across a deep-blue tiled floor. I dropped the card key on a side table and left my luggage at the door.

Tucked off the left side of the main entrance, a plush white loveseat and two matching arm chairs reclined around an inviting living area. I declined the offer and padded into the bedroom.

A low, sleek king-sized bed with a solid black headboard commanded focus. I flopped onto the bed and sunk, half the mattress cresting away from me. I turned and stared in awe. An honest to God waterbed. I hadn’t seen one of those since I was a teenager. I couldn’t believe they still made them. I studied the design and narrowed my eyes. I couldn’t imagine having sex on the thing. Though, perhaps if the rhythm flowed just right. I enjoyed a good challenge.

Curious what wonders awaited me in the bathroom, I rounded a bend at the far end of the room and stopped, slack jawed. Tucked away behind a curved glass block wall, the bathroom stretched behind towering floor to ceiling windows that looked out on to the bustling cityscape beyond, a sleek white lounge chair positioned to take advantage of the view. On the back wall, a waterfall trickled between ledges of glossy black tile, tumbling into an infinity pool. A built-in alcove housed several sconces, their light flickering like candles. I dipped a forefinger into the pool. The water was luxuriously warm. I couldn’t wait to dive in.

A generous stand up shower encased in glass stood opposite the pool, and a toilet and low vanity curved along the block wall. The room exceeded my wildest expectations. I’d asked for water features. This took the cake.

I stripped off and slipped into the pool. Experimenting with several dials, I adjusting the strength and number of jets before I found a setting that would allow me to swim in one place, like a water treadmill. Eager to burn off some restless energy, I spent a good half hour fighting the current with a strong front crawl then hopped into the shower.

I pulled out a matching black lace thong and bra and paired those with a tight LBD. With more time to kill, and deciding I needed a little sustenance to keep up my stamina, I ordered some room service. By the time I’d finished eating, fixed my hair, and applied my makeup, it was 6:59pm.

The knock at the door sent a thrill through me. I liked my men punctual. I swung the door wide, revealing a tall, broad shouldered pillar of testosterone with golden eyes and a cocky grin. He filled out a pair of blue jeans, the buttons of his shirt undone showing off a chiselled chest, dusted with just the right amount of dark curly hair. Off his hips slung a tool belt, and he packed a very large wrench.

READY FOR PART TWO? Click here to keep reading!

In gratitude,

Marissa xo

Pleasure Incorporated: Stephanie and Stephen Part two

Week One: Stephanie and Stephen

DISCLAIMER: Just a reminder, the following is first draft, unedited material. 😀 Enjoy.

Don’t forget to read part one first!

I stopped at the top of the landing. There at the bottom of the steps, with his back toward me was Stephen. His hair hung in soft waves just below his shoulders, and he filled out every inch of the tailored fabric in that black suit. He had his hands in his pant pockets and exuded a casual, sensual confidence. In opposition, my knees knocked. I gripped the railing for support.

He must have heard my awkward descent because he turned around and smiled. I almost ran back into my room and locked the door. No man can be that beautiful. I shouldn’t be here.

He bounded up the stairs, cutting off my escape. “Stephanie.”

The word purled off his tongue and rippled over my skin. I swallowed. “You must be Stephen.”

He lifted my hand to his lips. They were incredibly soft. He must use a lot of Chapstick.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you. Come.” He held out his arm, and I threaded mine though his. He locked it tight to his side. “They have a sumptuous meal waiting for us in the dining room.”

He led me down a wing off to the left of the lobby, stopping at a beautiful room with a teak dining table, ornamented with fine crystal and china. He held out a chair. “Please.”
I sat down, and he tucked me closer to the table. He lifted an amber bottle from the ice bucket. “Would you like some—”

“Yes.” I finished for him.

He smiled and poured us each a glass before sitting down beside me.

I took a small sip. “Lovely.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“The wine is nice too.” I was going for confident and sexy, but it came out like a croak.

“You’re very beautiful when you blush.”

I covered my face with my hands. He pried them away and held them tight. “I’m looking forward to seeing that happen a lot this evening.”

I may have squeaked.

He laughed, a deep, melted chocolate sound that poured over me, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Tell me about yourself,” he said.

“Didn’t you read up on me?”

He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Oh. I um—” A waiter interrupted us with a starter salad—half an iceberg lettuce and a few bacon pieces completed the course.

“Pay no attention to them.” He waved to the young man leaving the room. “They are paid very well for their discretion and practiced incognizance of our conversation.”

I eyed the door dubiously, but figured, I’d come this far, and they all knew why I was there. I distracted myself with the food. The salad was really good. It had a thick bacon vinaigrette drizzled over top of the simple presentation.

The forms I’d filled out for Pleasure Incorporated were pretty extensive. If he did his homework, Stephen would know all about my past relationships, going as far back as the asshole who took advantage of me. He’d know I was a Public Relations Officer for a large corporation. He would have discovered I was an only child, had a middle class upbringing, liked to dance, and practiced yoga. He’d even know my favourite foods. I suspected the entree of the meal would be either pasta or steak. He’d also be keenly aware of every dirty fantasy I had. I coughed as a piece of bacon lodged in my throat.

“Are you all right?” he asked, holding out my water glass.

My eyes teared, but I held up a hand. “I’m fine,” I wheezed.

He set the glass down and presented the wine instead. “Perhaps this would work better. I know this is awkward, but I’d love to find a way to help you relax.”

I coughed some more.

He handed me a napkin. “I do like that blush, though. It suits you.”

I drank the wine—all of it—and held out my glass for more. “Enjoying yourself?” I asked when I could talk without sputtering all over him.

“Innocence is sexy. I can’t wait to corrupt you.”

On that cue, the waiter returned to clear our plates, while another brought in our main course—filet mignon with mushrooms, onions and what looked like a twice-baked potato. My mouth salivated as the plate was placed and turned to its best angle in front of me.

“This looks incredible.”

“Germaine makes a fantastic gravy. Wait till you take a bite,” he said.

For a few moments neither one of us spoke. I was too absorbed in the melding of flavors in my mouth. I may have closed my eyes.

“You were saying?” he said.

“Pardon?”

“You were about to tell me all of your deepest secrets.”

“I was?”

“Yep.”

“I think you know all of mine. What about you? Who’s the man charged with seducing me tonight?”

“Seducing you? I like the sound of that.” He leaned forward and placed his hand beneath my chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip. “You had a little sauce, just there.”

My heart pounded in my chest, and I gripped the fork and knife like a vice. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone, but no one had touched me like that. A simple gesture, yet it lit wild fires inside my belly.

He sat back. “Like you, I had a typical suburban upbringing.”

“What led you here?” I wiped my mouth with the napkin in case he missed a spot, keenly aware of the tingle still buzzing along my lip.

“I had a talent, and Mrs. Murphy found me. It was a lucky break.”

“What talent?” I kept my focus firmly on cutting my steak.

“My friends called me the pussy whisperer.”

My knife stopped its carving. I wanted to come up with something other than ‘oh my God’ as a response, but anything sensible or even remotely witty left my head.

He popped a piece of steak in his mouth. The juice left a delicious sheen on his lip. If I was bold, I’d wipe it away like he’d just done to me. I pushed around the potato on my plate instead. “You must have had a lot of happy girlfriends to earn a title like that.”

“In bed, yes. Most left unsatisfied with the life I was willing to give them.”

“So you’re a lone wolf? The consummate bachelor?”

“Until I find the right woman, yes.”

“Is there a right woman?” I didn’t know why I was fishing. This was an arrangement. I was paying for a service, but the thought of maybe, even the remotest possibility that this man was looking for more and could actually find it, in someone like me was thrilling.

“You’re blushing again. I don’t think I’m going to make it through this dinner without devouring you.”

My appetite for steak took a back seat to the main course. Stephen’s fierce gaze turned my hesitations inside out, and I couldn’t imagine eating another bite.

“May I kiss you?” He stood in front of me and took my hand in his. He drew me to my feet.

“My breath. The dinner.” My free hand flew to my mouth. Where was that minty toothpaste when you needed it? “Maybe we should head back to the room first.”

“You’ll taste like wine and steak—every man’s dream.” His hand slipped around my waist, and he drew me close. His beard brushed my neck. “You smell delicious.”

I shivered. “Chanel.”

“Mmmnnn. Steak.” His lips brushed mine, and I inhaled sharply.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he said.

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to stop.” I sounded like a breathless teenager, but the rational, judgmental side of me was quickly taking a backseat to the very horny, extremely turned on part of me that pressed her hips unabashedly into Stephen’s groin.

“You’re safe with me. If at any point you want me to stop, you need only say ‘No,” or ‘Stop.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Grab your clutch.”

I scooped it off the table, and he lifted me in his arms.

I squealed.

“Do that again, and I’ll have to kiss you.”

I bit my lower lip and threw caution to the wind. “Peep.”

His mouth was against mine so fast, I didn’t have time to focus on anything but the taste of him. Warm, soft, with just the right amount of demanding, my tongue swept forward and sought his.

He strode out of the dining room and tackled the stairs. He could have taken them two at a time, I didn’t know, I was too busy exploring the heat of that kiss and the soft curls of his hair as I threaded my fingers through them.

After a moment, I realized we’d stopped.

“Key,” he panted.

“Bag,” I answered.

He set me down, and I rummaged through the tiny purse with trembling fingers. I handed him the card, certain I’d never get it to unlock in my current state.

He swiped it effortlessly, scooped me back up, and sauntered into the room. He laid me down on the bed and stepped back. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.” I tucked a curl behind my ear and sat up on the bed.

“My cock doesn’t lie.”

I looked down at the litmus test in question. “Jesus.” It was bulging out of his pocket.

He smiled. “He’s excited to finally get you alone in this bed.” He took off his jacket and laid it across one of the wing-back chairs. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know you.”

“Do you trust that Mrs. Murphy will have my balls if I don’t make this the most satisfying experience of your life?”

I smirked. “That I do trust.”

He walked over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. He retrieved a silk bag and set it on the bed. “Open it.”

I raised an eyebrow, but with an encouraging nod from Stephen, I curled my legs beneath me and grabbed the bag. It was heavy and something metal clanked inside. I loosened the draw string and emptied the contents on the duvet. A pair of handcuffs slid out along with a black silk blindfold. “Fuck.”

“This was one of your fantasies.” He trailed the back of a finger over my shoulder and down my arm. “I’m going to make you scream with pleasure. Will you permit me to restrain you?”

My heart hammered in my chest. I’d put that damning info on my ‘fantasy checklist’ from the agency. I didn’t think I’d actually be doing it. Maybe one day, but tonight? Here? Now?

He fingered the silk blindfold. “What do you think?”

My body had its own reaction. The mere sight of the props made me wet, and my pulse raced. As for my head, a whole host of thoughts were rampaging through my mind: Was I really considering this? Why the hell was I considering this? I’m going to kill Amy. Jesus he’s hot. I want to, but did I trust him? Did I trust me? This was a lot to take in.

He pulled a key out of his pocket and inserted it in the handcuffs, swinging them open and closed. He placed the key on the nightstand. “At any point you need only tell me to stop.”

“Okay.” It came out as a whisper.

“I’m so glad you said yes.” His smile weakened my knees, and I was grateful to be sitting down.

“Let’s take care of this dress.” He looped his thumb beneath the edge of the scoop neck and fingered the hem of the thin fabric, brushing the side of my breast in the process.

“Guess I didn’t need to buy that new lingerie.” I knew he was going to throw me down and rip everything off.

“I’m very interested in seeing that. Later. Right now, I’d like you completely naked.”

“Can we dim the lights?” Exposed and vulnerable were not my favorite conditions.

“And miss your incredible blush, I’d rather not. I want to see you flushed with pleasure. I want to watch you come.”

After that remark, I was fairly certain an entire rainbow of florid color tinted my cheeks. It also caused my vocal cords to stop working. I nodded, and he helped me shimmy out of the dress. My breasts bounced free, and he took a moment to palm them, rolling a thumb across the tip of my nipples. Heat coursed through my body as echoes of pleasure shimmered between my legs.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

He unclasped my heels. “I think I’d like to see these with the lingerie later.” He slung the dress over the back of a chair and placed my shoes on the floor. He slipped my panties off, twirling them around his finger before tossing them onto the seat.

I expected to feel extremely self-conscious. I was completely naked, and he was still fully clothed, but the way he looked at me made me feel powerful and sexy, and I dare say, a little bold.

He loosened his tie and flung it beside my panties. “Lay back for me.”

Should I Switch from Coffee to Wine

Conversations with the Goddess

Dear Goddess: I have the best chiropractor in the world, but her ergonomic roller chair bothers me. The oversized spongy rubber ball positioned on three legs with matching polymer casters is not only ribbed but also purple. Dr. M insists that it aids in back support, but I see other sinister utilities, some of a sexual nature. Should I switch from coffee to wine?
A.B.

In this instance, a potion stronger than wine is required to make peace with the purple, ribbed bulbous sponge. If you can obtain your own ergonomic roller chair, we encourage you to put it through several unconventional uses until you no longer fear the chair and instead embrace it for all its wondrous possibilities. You may then return to coffee.
Goddess keep you,
AINE

Aine's playground

How Do I Spice Up My Sex Life?

Conversations with the Goddess

Here is today’s Conversation with the Goddess:

Dear Goddess, how do I spice up my sex life?

W.M.

I am the Goddess of passion and desire. Let go of your fear. Be bold. Give your fantasies room to breathe and grow. Experiment. Your partner’s reaction will surprise you. There’s something you’ve been wanting to try for a while now. Go for it. You’ll both enjoy it. Don’t be afraid to play.

Goddess keep you,

MACHA