Masturbation Monday: Swinging 4

Note: 

This story starts here

Stephanie and I are in the children’s playground across the road. And Stephanie is bending over the top of the slide, so that her breasts and tummy are pressed across the cold, hard metal. She’s only wearing sandals and a little pair of shorts. I’m only wearing a shirt and my underpants. In the spirit of fairness. Less fairly, I’m standing on the slide steps behind her, tugging those shorts down. 

Swinging 4

Stephanie reached her right hand back when she felt her shorts halfway down her ass, and the cold air breathing on new skin. I took her wrist in mine and pulled her arm a little to the left, so that she could feel helpless. Then I kissed her hand.

Stephanie said, “Ah-huh.”

“Put your hands back on the slide. Below your head. Low as you can reach.”

“And you’ll spank me if I let go?” She wasn’t asking for information. She knew that. She just wanted to say it aloud. I wanted to kiss her. But I couldn’t reach. So I tugged the shorts, and her knickers down till they were bunched at the top of her thighs.

“Lift up for a second.”

She did. I pushed the little bundle of shorts and panties down to her knees, then used my foot, on the gusset, to drop them to her feet. I did what any gentleman would and pressed myself her, cock hard, yearning, desperate to be in her, between the tops of her thighs, that sweet gap known to all as the inter-gracile, sub-pudendal fossa. We both sighed at the same moment. That felt good, and we wanted more of that, please.

There was just one problem. My condoms were in my wallet, and my wallet was in my jeans, and my jeans were, at Stephanie’s demand, stuffed into the post-box back at my place. So the thing we both wanted most was temporarily not on.

We were both more than likely to be STD-free (small provincial university, general condom use, and the fucking Stephanie and I did involved a relatively small social circle), and under some circumstances lust would have led to us taking the risk. We were horny humans after midnight, not role models. But aside from the STD issue, I knew that while I could pull out before I actually came, at that moment there was no way I could guarantee not to leak seminal fluid into her.

Stephanie said, “Are you going to fuck me?” In the tone that meant: what in hell is keeping you? 

So I pulled back, and put my hand where my cock had been. And pressed up against soft, wet, girl-folds. I stroked her, fingertips just inside. Stephanie sighed, and turned her head, so her cheek rested on the slide. She was smiling.

I slipped two fingers along, not quite inside her, fingertips touching her clitoris, thumb pressing her asshole. I stroked, and Stephanie started to move against my hand. There were goosebumps on her buttocks and inner thighs. 

She moved her feet further apart, giving me better access. Her shorts fell to the ground; she was a naked girl on a slide, and nothing to be done about it if anyone happened along. I pressed against her as close as I could with my hand working on her cunt. Stephanie blew a lungful of breath out, and breathed in more quietly; breathing was something she’d forgotten about. She murmured, “Yeah…”

I stroked, my world or my awareness of it shrinking to my hand and her cunt, moving not quite in unison, sliding together, skin to wet, yearning skin. And speeding up.

After a time Stephanie pressed down on my hand, hard, and said, “Oh.” I pressed a my thumb little harder on her asshole, and she opened. I moved my fingers in her, as hard and fast as I could as I could. Her feet left the slide, so she was supported only by her tummy balanced on the top of the slide. She shook her head, and grunted, deep and low. Her thighs clasped my waist.

I kept my hand in her, and with my other hand smacked her bottom. Hard. Four times. Stephanie lay still, relaxed. It seemed that I had the right to spank her. Provided I used sound judgement. And kept her warm. I said, “Warmth.”

And I set about stroking her, slowly again. I wondered how long it would take for her to come for a second time. We’d find out.

Note: The next episode is here.

The State of your Author

I wrote a novel about Frank Harris, Oscar Wilde, Lewis Carroll and the young Aleister Crowley about four years ago. It had too many characters and the plot was far too complicated. Also the strongest sequence came in the middle. It should either be the beginning or the end.

It’s called Harris’s Adventures Underground, after the original title of Alice in Wonderland. Anyway, there were major structural issues, and there was a problem with Frank Harris’s voice, as the narrator.

Frank Harris is, in  sense, the opposite of Harry Flashman, George MacDonald Frazer’s anti-hero. Flashman was a coward, and various other sorts of bad man, but he was utterly honest and reliable in his “Flashman” memoirs.

Harris was a brave man, and mostly decent, but he could never resist improving any story he was involved in. As a result, you can never quite believe that what he writes is what really happened. 

Harris wrote a lot, though few people have read anything more than his autobiography, My Life and Loves. But his style is very unfashionable now, and it was hard to write in his voice while still being readable and immediate. 

I put it aside to work on other things. Now I’ve finished those other things, and I’m back to it. 

It needs a lot of editing, and some new scenes. And I think I have a solution to the “voice” problem, though I’ll find out as I write it. But I think there’s something very strong there. So that’s my new project.

A side-effect is that until it’s done, my blog and my writing will have no cross-over. I think I’ll find that strange. What, no bdsm? What, writing in someone else’s voice? 

But I’ll keep writing this blog at the same rate as now. I may do more shorter stories, since I’ve nearly got enough for a volume of bdsm-related, but also person-related, short stories. With interlocking characters. Maybe it’s the bdsm equivalent of “Slaves of New York”. Or some such.

And some things, like the Maddie saga, will go on forever, probably, unless I think of an ending.

(“Well,” gasped Maddie on her deathbed, “getting run over was unexpected, but it’s all been tremendous fun.”) 

For now, I have three books to sell. Two novels and a non-fiction book on bdsm.

I’ve recently finished proof-reading them, and I found that it’s nice when you read something you wrote, and it’s well polished, and it feels real. The people act and speak credibly, each according to their own motivations , and they’re neither better nor worse than real people. Also, all three books are often sexy, sometimes sad and often funny. I feel good about them: they are good enough to be proud of.

On the other hand, I know that I’m shit at selling myself, commercially speaking, and… Well, frankly, the marketing issue scares the hell out of me. 

I’m coming to Eroticon in London in March of this year, and I’m looking forward to meeting a lot of lovely people.  I also hope I can get published and make a non-insulting amount of money out of that visit and those meetings that may arise from it. 

I don’t write abou 

Masturbation Monday: Swinging 3

Note

This story starts here.

But we start Episode 3 as Stephanie and I are amusing ourselves in a children’s playground, after midnight. I ordered her to climb up to the top of the slide, ahead if me. She obeyed.

Swinging 3

Stephanie reached the fourth step from the top of the slide. Her ass was level with the slide. I stood on the ground, still gazing up at her thighs, admiring the softly muscled crease of her buttocks and thighs. I said, “Stop. That’s just right.”

She looked down at me while I climbed up to join her. I stood on the fifth step from the top, so my cock, not quite contained by my underpants, was more or less level with her ass. I pressed my body against hers. This was the most intimately we’d touched, so far. My cock pressed, admiring, desiring, against her ass, and knew it was comfortable there. Her ass was the place for my cock to be. Stephanie pressed back against me, not only to keep warm.

I put my arms around her bare back, and held her breasts in my hands. Her nipples were hard with cold and arousal, rubber bullets between my thumbs and forefingers.

Stephanie turned, “Are we going to slide down together?”

She was thinking, I guessed, of my promise that her arse wouldn’t get cold on the metal of the slide. “Probably. You can sit on me.”

She smiled. “You can be in charge of keeping my arse warm. You spank Maires, don’t you?”

“Oh?” I hadn’t been aware I was in gossip quite that detailed. On the other hand, Maires was not a discrete kind of girl. “Well, yes. When she wants me to.”

Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Oh. That’s all her, is it?”

“No, sorry. I just meant, I don’t do anything she doesn’t want. I wouldn’t do anything  that you don’t want. Just being clear. But of course that’s not just just what she wants: I like spanking her. It’s, um, hot. Great ass, that Maires. Don’t you think?”

She looked away for a second. “Well, I’m not really into girls. But yes, she has a nice bottom. If you liked spanking girls, I can see that Maires would…” She looked back at me. She was blushing slightly. “Ah, anyway, yes, she’s got a nice arse. Fantastic legs. And I’m told she’s good at cunnilingus. By her boyfriend, no less.”

She was winding me up. I swung my body round to the side of the steps so we could press together and kiss properly. Stephanie nodded, and pressed into me, hard nipples against my shirt. I held onto the metal bar at the top of the slide with my left hand so I could put my right hand on her bottom. Stephanie sighed.

I patted her pretty little bottom, so lightly. I heard a chuckle from her, so I smacked her little harder. She kissed my neck. I smacked her again, a little harder still. I wondered if there was a point where she’d complain, but I didn’t want to find out. So I left my hand on her ass, kneading and fondling.

I focussed on the kiss. We opened our mouths. Her tongue touched my teeth. She put her arms round me, holding on to me and not the slide. She was depending on me. Literally. We kissed, changing the angle and exploring. My cock was pretty much entirely free of my underpants. It was, um, engorged. It was not cold. 

Stephanie eventually opened her eyes again. “Shall we slide?” 

“Hang on. No, I mean, hang on to the slide.” When she’d straightened and gripped the rails again, I swung my body back behind her. She waited. “Now, bend over.” 

“What?” 

“I promised you your ass wouldn’t get cold. I never made any promise about your tits. Bend over now. So your upper body’s on the chute. It’ll be cold, but it won’t matter.”

“You’re crazy, if you think–”

“Bend over, little Stephanie.” There was a pause. Stephanie considered various things. Which was stronger: cold, or fun and lust? Twenty seconds passed before I could say, “Good girl.”

“Hmmph!” But she said that with her head pressed against cold metal, her bottom the highest part of her body.  

I climbed up one more step, and let her feel my cock slide between her upper thighs. She said, “Oh, jesus.” We stayed together like that, moving very slowly and very slightly together, savouring every micro-movement.

But eventually I drew back, and reached under her to undo the top button of her shorts. And I tugged. Down.

Nother note

The next episode is here.

 

E{lust}

Elust 103

Photo courtesy of Tits and Test Tubes

Welcome to Elust 103

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #104 Start with the rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Friend and The Acquaintance

The dress rehearsal

Lake Malawi

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Color Me Kinky

A Slow Burn on a Summer Night.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Voodoo Me

Cervical Orgasms: the deep erogenous zones

Erotic Fiction

Snow Day
Bad Dream
Heaven is a Place on Earth
Fucking Women
Laura’s Christmas
The Scent of a Woman
More than Friends: A Night Out
Eloise ~ Part one ~ Under my skin
Helios

Erotic Non-Fiction

Pain is confusing
I Don’t Want You to Hurt Me
Chemistry
There’s Many a Slip Twixt…
First Experience
Mixed bag/into my own eyes
Swinging 1
Lust and Will
Hot sunshine

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Mortified
Stop Worrying and Learn to Love Fellatio
I come from sexual assault
A life in three tweets

Poetry

-02.02.18_00:18-
The Four In the Morning Fuck

Blogging

Why Do I Blog?

Writing About Writing

10 Things I Will NEVER Write About

Masturbation Monday: Swinging 2

Note 

This is the second part of a Masturbation Monday story about seduction in a children’s playground, after midnight. Episode 1 is here

Swinging 2

When you’re pushing a girl on a swing, and she’s wearing only a little pair of shorts and a pair of sandals, it can be hard to decide where to put your hands. So for the first few pushes, I pushed Stephanie with my hands just under her shoulders, so she could fly to the furthest extent the arc allowed. it was effective, and chaste. 

But chasteness wasn’t the goal, so the fourth time she came back I stood a little further so I could catch her suspended about half way up the backswing, and bite her neck and kiss her while she laughed. Then I’d send her flying again. After that, I caught her by the shorts, and pushed her by her perfect arse. 

And then, finally, I wasn’t so much pushing her at all. I just smacked her ass each time it flew back into my grasp. She was beautiful, flying, long straight blonde hair streaming, small breasts cold and tight; she was a valkyrie. Eventually she let the swing rest, with her feet touching the ground and her head back and turned so we could kiss properly. Her nipples were stiff, red and hard in excitement and the cold.  

Eventually we broke, and I helped Stephanie out of the swing. She said, “Slide! Slide!”

So I stood in front of her, holding her facing me, close. I put my hand inside her shorts and squeezed bare skin. Stephanie sighed. She slipped her hands down the back of my underpants, and enjoyed my penile reaction to that, body tight to to body.

Eventually I remembered speech, and said, “Slide. Sure. You go first.”

“You just want to watch me climb the ladder.”

“I do. I will.” 

“It’ll be so cold. The slide metal, under my ass.”

“Actually, it won’t. I promise.”

“You’re going to do magic?”

I smiled, like I hoped a mage might smile, and smacked her ass to keep it warm. And show my appreciation. Then we kissed some more because the night really was cold around us, and yet we were so warm for each other, a little sexual micro-climate. And I smacked her perfectly rounded, perfectly pretty bottom again, and walked her to the ladder leading up to the slide. 

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. This felt too good, and too promising. “Climb, Stephanie.” 

“Oh. So you’re giving me orders now?” 

“But good orders. Only the good ones. Climb.” 

Stephanie put one foot one of the lowest step of the ladder. She cocked her hip, and waggled her arse. “Like this?” 

“Oh my god, Stephanie. Fuck.” I kissed her shoulder. “I’d say that would be the exact way. Climb!”

Stephanie climbed. I watched her, adoring and wanting. Hard.