Flying #masturbationmonday



Source: Tumblr

The blindfold was soft against her skin. She kept turning her head to see if it was totally secure – hoping and dreading that she’d see who was going to walk through the bedroom door. The material moved a little but never enough, brushing the tips of her eyelashes as she searched the darkness.

She tugged at the ropes tied around her wrists and ankles – no give there. She was held fast, spread wide, and she’d never felt so vulnerable in her life. The only thing keeping her here, the only thing stopping her from shouting out and ending this, was the excitement that coursed through her body.

She could hear them. Deep, low male voices. One was familiar, the other was not. It was the latter that she strained to catch, desperately wanting it to come closer, to whisper in her ear.

Breathing deeply, she tried to calm herself down, it helped to some extent. She closed her eyes and embraced the darkness rather than fighting it. She was so aware of her body. It had been disconcerting to begin with. Now she tried to catalogue each muscle, tensing and relaxing them until she felt that she had a tenuous hold on the edge of her control.

She watched her control slip out of her grasp when she heard the door open. She went very still, trying to track the movements in the room.

“You were right,” said the unknown voice after a brief, agonising moment.

She turned her head in the direction of the deep sound, surprised by the soft, lilting Irish accent – wanting to hear more.

“She’s stunning. She has my imagination running riot.” His words were a little husky now and they made her bite her lip.

“Tell me what you have in mind.” Her man demanded conversationally.

She heard the rustle of clothes being removed, a belt buckle jingling, a shoe being tossed across the floor. There appeared to be a gratifying haste behind their movements now.

“Well, I want to play with those pretty breasts – they’re gorgeous. God, those nipples were made to be sucked. I want to lick and bite them, make them cherry red and hard.”

Her nipples instantly tightened and she felt her breasts move with her ragged intake of breath – loving knowing their eyes were on her.

“Go on…”

“First, I want to taste that pussy. Look how wet she is already. Jesus!”

“She does look pretty wound up. I suppose I should let you have her then.”

She didn’t know which was the stronger emotion: mortification over them seeing the evidence of her arousal so clearly, or the need to spread her legs wider. She let a little whimper slip out.

Every beat of her heart pulsed between her legs as she felt the bed dip by her feet. She prayed to every god she could think of that they wouldn’t make her wait much longer. She felt big hands run up the inside of her taut thighs and she felt warm breath ruffle her curls just before a gentle finger ran down her slick folds.

“Oh!” The first contact was a shock, even though she’d been preparing for it, but it felt good – really good.

“Show me.” Her man was hungry, she could hear it. Knowing he was watching this scene play out fed her arousal until her heart banged hard in her chest and her pussy ached.

Irish spread her folds until her clit stood out swollen and needy; his breath touched her just before his lips. He kissed her softly right on it, once… twice. Then his hot, wet tongue circled until she strained against the ropes, letting loose a long, low moan.

Her man chuckled. “Greedy girl. She wants it, make her wait a little longer.”

“I want a proper taste anyway – need to get nice and deep to do that.”

She felt his big hands go underneath her arse, lifting her as much as the rope would allow. He licked the length of her before spearing his tongue deep inside her, his face pressed firmly against her. In and out, swirling around her tightly clenched channel.

There were so many sensations she was struggling to compute them all. His nose pressed just below her clit, she needed it just a little higher. Tugging on the ropes she tried to move on him, but it wasn’t possible and she felt that potent, stab of panic at her lack of control. She needed to come so badly now it had taken over her body.

Hands touched her breasts, squeezing and pushing them together. Her man’s voice in her ear, “Relax, baby and take it.”

His mouth was on her tight nipples, sucking and licking. Pressing them together he moved from one to the other, licking into the deep V of her cleavage, leaving her skin wet and ready to take him.

As he straddled her chest and pushed his hard cock between her breasts, Irish withdrew his tongue and finger fucked her, while his tongue paid attention to the place that needed it the most.

It was sensory overload. She loved having her breasts used this way, usually loved watching but now she just felt his weight on her, listened to his quick breaths. She felt surrounded – the ropes – his weight – the hands working between her legs. Every cell in her body wanted it and reached for what she knew was coming.

“Please!” She shouted.

“Do it now. I’m going to come on her tits. Make her come then fuck her.”

In the end the words were all she needed. Irish sucked on her clit while his fingers worked inside her and she came apart while the ropes held her tightly in place.

She was still flying when she felt his thick, hard cock sink into her – still floating when she felt her man’s warm wetness on her breasts.

She never wanted to land.

As always, thanks for reading. Take a look at the other Masturbation Monday posts over at Kayla’s place.

Rebecca x

ATasteForThree-evernightpublishing-JayAheer2015-finalimage (1)

The Hardest Part: #masturbationmonday (Happy Birthday!!)

happy birthday


So this week is the one year anniversary of Masturbation Monday!! Congratulations to Kayla Lords for keeping it going and bringing together such a great community of writers and lovely people.

This is my 34th week posting for this meme and it coincides with the release of my book A Taste For Three so I thought I’d go with a restaurant / chef theme like the book. This isn’t an extract, it’s a totally independent erotic short.

The Hardest Part

The lights are low in the restaurant now.

All the people have left, the tables have been cleared, and the kitchen cleaned. She can still smell the beautiful food they created tonight and still see the smiles and looks of contentment on the faces of their customers.

She feels tired, but exhilarated. The satisfaction after every dinner service never seems to diminish and she knows this is her place – just where she’s supposed to be.

Cataloguing each aching muscle in her body, looking forward to a hot bath at home, she moves behind the polished oak bar to open the fridge, grabbing a cold beer. Her eyes are closed, the cold bottle heaven against her flushed cheeks, when she feels soft lips on her neck.

She smiles as they nibble their way up to her ear. Once there, a warm tongue flicks her earlobe, making her shiver and moan softly as she tilts her head to the side to give it better access.

“Oh…” she whispers, as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. Her head falls back onto his shoulder, pushing her breasts out, needing more.

She feels him move to press himself against her – feels him push and rub against her ass – and she knows he is hungry. His hands are firm on her body. He knows what she wants – knows just how she likes to be touched.

She leans forward as he brings her t-shirt up and over her head. He throws it onto the bar and immediately unfastens her bra, which then flies in the same direction. She yelps when his hands return to squeeze her breasts and slap the heavy underside. She feels them sway on her chest and groans out her appreciation, loving the little bite of pain.

“Bend over the bar, baby.” His hand presses on her back impatiently.

He kneels at her feet to take off her shoes and then makes quick work of her jeans and panties. She watches the clothes pile grow on the bar as his shirt lands there, clenching her thighs tight at the sound of his belt buckle jingling.

Breasts pressed against the hard surface, her skin feels tight and hot as she begins to pant. She needs his hands on her – needs to feel him everywhere.

He moves to stand close behind her, rubbing his cock on her ass, leaving a cool wet trail on her burning skin.

“You hot, baby?” His words stroke her body and make her shiver despite the heat.

She manages a small acknowledgement, hoping he doesn’t decide to go slow now.

Then every synapse in her brain sparks as his big hand lands on the curve of her ass with a heavy smack! He kicks her legs wide, his hand continuing to land all over her soft flesh, creating an almost instant stinging heat.

“Oh God, yes!” Her head falls down onto her forearms as she moans the words. So good! She can feel her slippery response between her legs, and she knows he can too when he strokes two thick fingers along her folds.

“Just look at that.” He sinks his fingers inside her: a hard, fast thrust that takes her up onto her toes. “So wet – so fucking hot.”

He works his fingers inside her, setting a demanding rhythm that has her clit throbbing and hard. She is desperate to touch it, to make herself come. But not now – she has to trust him to do that – so she digs her nails into the palms of her hands and braces herself against the cold, slightly sticky bar.

This is the hardest part – giving the responsibility of her pleasure over to someone else. She has been in control of it for so long. He is the only one who has ever taken that from her – the only one who has ever been able to do so. She breathes deeply and relaxes her muscles. Open and ready now, wanting whatever he decides to give her.

The lewd, wet sounds of him working her body make her clench tight around them and thrust her ass out.

“Yeah, that’s right. Take it, girl. Such a gorgeous ass.”

She gasps as he withdraws his fingers, then screams as he slaps her pussy hard. Again and then once more: nice and high – right where she needs it the most. He steps in quickly to keep her legs open as she instinctively tries to close them.

“Fuck!” A ragged groan torn from her lips.

His hand comes around her body as he spanks her ass one last time, rubbing and circling her burning clit.

She feels the sweat run down the side of her face, knowing she can’t take much more. Every muscle is tight now, her body braced and ready while she strains for every ounce of pleasure that he is giving her.

“Come on now, honey. Let go for me.”

His words wash over her. She closes her eyes and lets herself get lost in this. She revels in it, every thrust and bounce, every grunt and whimper, every drop of sweat all coalesce until it takes over her body and mind.

Nothing exists except this, except him. When her orgasm sweeps through her she doesn’t hold back: with every cry and moan – every twist and shudder – she lets him know that he is the only one.


So, Happy Birthday Masturbation Monday!!! One year old and going strong. For more hot posts head over to Kayla’s place.

Thanks for reading,


ATasteForThree-evernightpublishing-JayAheer2015-finalimage (1)

Evernight Publishing


A Sure Thing: Part Three #masturbationmonday



a sure thing part 3

Source: Tumblr

It nearly didn’t happen this week. I’ve been away, my kids are still off school, we’re decorating – you know how it gets. But Josh and Ben, well they just wouldn’t leave me be. So I wrote this late last night. Hope you like it… Parts one and two can be read beforehand if you like.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off Josh’s naked ass.

It is a thing of beauty: tight and firm, indented at the sides. Walking across the bedroom, he looks at me over his shoulder when he hears me sigh, then laughs when he sees where my eyes are glued. Cocky bastard! I think he needs bringing down a peg or two.

I strip off my t-shirt and undo the top button of my jeans, I’m going to need a bit of breathing room.

Lying on the bed, my head propped on my hand, I watch him go through his nightly routine, quietly amazed at how comfortable he has become in such a short time. After a rocky start, we seem to have fallen into our version of a relationship, but I don’t want him getting too comfortable. No, that wouldn’t do at all. We are both at our best when things are a little on edge, a little uncertain.

“Get your ass over here, Josh.”

I see his hand hesitate as he pushes the dresser drawer in and he straightens a little, his shoulders going back. He glances back at me a question in his eyes – one that’s answered by the look in mine.

I enjoy watching him walking towards me, almost as much as I love watching him walk away. He is lean, but the muscle definition on his body is beautiful. Our eyes meet and hold as he climbs onto the bed.

“Lie on your front.” I instruct him.

As soon as he’s in position I straddle his legs, my cock nestling in the juncture between his legs and his ass. Running my hands over his broad, muscular back, I rub my balls and dick up and down the crack of his ass, just enjoying the feeling of it for a moment.

His skin is warm and still a little damp from his shower. I lean forward and lick a line up his spine until I get to his neck. Nibbling and kissing my way round to his ear, I blow over the wetness on his skin and watch him shiver.

“You know I love your ass.” I whisper in his ear as I stroke my body over his. I see him smile and nod, confident in his ass’s place in this world. “Well, tonight I’ve decided I want to see how much I love it when it’s rosy pink and really hot to the touch.”

He turns his head to look at me, not sure about the direction this seems to be taking.

“You want to spank me?” He tries to pull off a faintly condescending look, but I see the excitement flicker in his eyes.

I sit back and put my hands on his ass, squeezing and spreading him apart. I run my thumbs up and down the line that separates each cheek, softly circling his hole until he is pushing back against me. I know he is dragging his cock along the sheet, trying to get some friction.

I raise my hand and watch intently as I land the first blow to those firm muscles.

I hear him mutter “Fuck!” as he squeezes his cheeks together.

I don’t give him chance to think about it before I lift my hand and do it again. I don’t go easy. The palm of my hand stings and quickly heats up as I find my rhythm but I need more freedom of movement so I move to kneel beside him and say, “Up on your knees.”

I love watching the lines of his body in this position; I love watching him arching his back as he gives his ass to me. So fucking hot – I have to readjust my dick in my jeans.

I stroke over his already pink skin with my tingling palm before tapping him gently, low down on the fleshier part of his ass. He pushes back, his breaths coming hot and fast now as he says my name: “Ben, please!”

I can’t hold back my grin when I see how hard and wet his cock is. He fucking loves this – my dirty boy.

I give him three slaps on each cheek and watch him press his forehead into the bed.

“Oh God, Ben. That feels so good, why does that feel so good? Shit! I need to come already.”

“Not yet,” I say as I continue to create the sexiest deep pink colour on his skin with one hand as I unfasten my jeans with the other. I take my cock out and work my jeans down around my ass as I put my hand in front of Josh’s face. “Lick it.”

He might as well be licking my cock as his wet tongue travels up my hand. I feel it so intensely I worry for a second that I’m going to lose it and spoil the whole thing.

“Good boy.” I encourage him as I take hold of my cock, loving the slick feel of it. Pumping it long and slow my eyes close as I lose myself in how fucking incredible that feels.

I push his legs apart with my knees as I move behind him. Working my cock with one hand, the other moves to feel the heat of Josh’s skin as my eyes devour every glorious inch of him.

“Take hold of your cock, Josh. We’re going to come together. Fuck your hand while I come on your gorgeous pink ass.”

“Oh my fucking God, Ben! Yes, I want that. Please!”

He is panting now, so close. I can see his muscles tense and his shoulders drop.

His hand works fast, he is greedy, always is at this point. He wants it and I love watching him lose control.

I hold my breath when I realise it’s nearly over, there’s that brief moment of frustration, knowing this intensity of feeling can’t last forever. Then the flip side, when I decide to embrace it and rush towards the finish.

I work my cock fast and hard, my hand is near the head, my fingers catching the sensitive underside over and over until my head goes back and my eyes squeeze shut.

“Shit, so close!”

“Yeah, do it, Ben. Come all over me. I want it, please, Ben, do it now.”

I force my eyes open, needing to watch this. My cock is rubbing against Josh’s ass and it is fucking hot. That’s the last thought I have before every muscle in my body clenches and my movements become jerky and desperate. I moan long and loud as I watch myself mark Josh’s rosy skin.

Every muscle so recently tensed suddenly relaxes and my hot, stinging hand moves to rub my balm into the ass that started it all.

So there you have it – I think I could probably write a lot more about Josh and Ben but I’ll take a break for now, maybe come back to them later. If you want more Masturbation Monday goodness then hop on over to Kayla’s site A Sexual Being


Rebecca x

A Sure Thing: Part Two #masturbationmonday

A few weeks ago I wrote the first part to this, you should probably read that first. You can find it here. I really liked Josh and Ben and thought they were worth a few more instalments. So here you go – there will be another one next week. Hope you enjoy it….



sure thing part 2

Source: tumblr

It has been a week since I’ve seen Josh. A week since we jerked off together and we came all over each other’s cocks.

Hot. As. Fuck! I’ve been wanking off thinking about it for seven days. I’m over that – I want Josh again. I want his cock, his mouth, I want to see him lose control again.

The problem is Josh is running scared and I’m running out of patience.

So when I see him walking towards his apartment, arms full of groceries, I start to jog towards him calling his name. He looks up and fumbles his keys when he rushes to get them in the door and they fall to the floor. I see him close his eyes and his head fall back in recognition. He can’t avoid this conversation any longer and he knows it.

He tries to square his shoulders when I step up to him, but he’s struggling to meet my eyes and I’ve got a damn good idea why.

“How’re you doin’, Josh?” I ask as I watch him closely.

“I’m good. You?” He replies but his eyes are flicking over my shoulder instead of meeting mine.

He starts to juggle his brown paper sacks so I reach for one and bend down to pick his keys off the floor. Handing them to him, I nod my head towards the door.

He hesitates, but I don’t take my eyes off him. I see his gaze flash to my mouth and I see his tongue dart out to lick his lips. Oh shit! The things I have imagined that mouth doing this past week. I feel my cock twitch and know it won’t be long till I’m hard and incapable of hiding it.

Josh finally opens his door and I follow him through into the kitchen where we place his groceries on the counter. I lean my hip against it and cross my arms while I watch him put the food away.

“So Josh, how long were you planning on avoiding me?”

I just about catch the muttered “Fuck!” before he glances over his shoulder at me.

“I’m not avoiding you, man.” He lies.

“Bullshit! You’re avoiding me and we’re going to have one conversation about why. If you persuade me that you really don’t want to see me again then I’ll go and that’ll be the end of it.”

He runs his fingers through his hair leaving an unruly mess. He can’t mask the conflict he’s feeling. I’m beginning to think this is new ground for both of us.

“Look Ben, you were right before, we’re too different, ok? And anyway, I don’t do dating, I don’t do relationships. I fuck and that’s it.”

“We didn’t fuck. You ran off before we could do that.”

“I didn’t run off…” He has the good grace to blush a little now.

“You ran off, Josh.” My newly discovered inner-sadist is enjoying watching him get flustered.

He has no come back. We both know he ran off. The issue is why. I think I know, but I’m taking a gamble pushing him like this.

I begin to slowly walk towards him, looking at his gorgeous face. He backs up immediately. I see the panic in his eyes and push a little harder.

“Let me tell you what I think, Josh. I think you’re a little scared…”

He forces out an attempt at a nonchalant laugh. “I’m not scared, man…”

“… you’re scared because it all got a little too hot, a little too intense and you didn’t know what to do about that. I wasn’t just some one time thing you picked up in a club who you could kick out afterwards. You weren’t the one in control and I don’t think you know how to handle that. I don’t think you know how to handle the fact that you liked not being in control.”

I’m watching him like a hawk so I see the flash of recognition and surprise on his face.

“I’m gonna lay it out for you, Josh. I’ve got a hard on right now.”

I see him bite his lip as he looks down to see the evidence of my words. His hand goes to the back of his neck and squeezes, throwing his bicep into relief. Fuck! My hard on just got harder.

“I wanna know if you’re interested in seeing where this could go between us, Josh? Because I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t ever wanted to fuck anyone as much as I want to fuck you right now.”

“Oh Jesus!” He groans.

“And there’s something else…”

Josh stands straight and alert – oh he’s interested all right.

“As much as you want to give up control, I want to take it.”

“Now hold on a minute – ” Josh chokes out.

“I want to be in complete control of our sexual relationship. I’m open to negotiation on the rest.”

I move closer, my hands tucked into my back pockets. I’m pushing him but I don’t want him to freak out. I lift my hand to cup his face. He leans into it a little.

“I’m all about the pleasure, Josh. I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you, not unless you ask me to.” I wiggle my eyebrows and am gifted with his rueful grin and a roll of his eyes. “This is new for me too. We can learn what we like together. Now, tell me yes or no because either way I’ve got to do something about this hard on I’ve got.”

We stand quietly for a while, his eyes meet mine now. He seems to have calmed down some. I want him, bad. Waiting is killing me, but he needs to be sure. My patience is rewarded with a small smile and nod of his head.

“Yeah, ok.”

“Ok what, Josh?”

He squints his eyes at me. “Ok, you can dominate my ass!”

Now it’s my turn to close my eyes and tilt my head back. The relief is overwhelming.

“Thank fuck for that!” I mutter to the ceiling.

I lean forward and gently press my lips to his, but the kiss quickly turns into a frantic collision of tongues and teeth. I hold his head and press my body to his as we both gasp for breath.

My cock feels like it’s going to burst through the front of my jeans, I want friction more than I want my next breath and grind myself against Josh’s equally hard cock.

“I swear to God, next time we’ll make it to a bed, but right now I just wanna come. So get your cock out and let’s take the edge off.”

We both tear our t-shirts off and rip our jeans open, panting and swearing when our co-ordination goes to shit and we can’t go as fast as we want to. Finally, our jeans are open and shoved down around our asses. We both look down at our hard, weeping cocks. I step into him, bringing our dicks together.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

There’s no hesitation now. He does as I say and I feel a small rush of power sweep through my body. This is only the beginning, I know, but as I raise my hand to take hold of our cocks, as I feel his heat and the softness of his skin rubbing against mine. I know it is far from being the last.

To be continued….


There will be more from Josh and Ben next week. If you want more yummy Masturbation Monday goodness right now, head over to Kayla’s site A Sexual Being.

Thanks for reading,

Rebecca x

Midday: Week Three #masturbationmonday



Source: Tumblr

Midday. Thursday. It was the third week they had sat like this.

The first time she’d been vaguely amused about the fact that they matched: her red shoes – his red tie – her black dress, his black suit. She’d been intrigued by the contrast between his sharp suit, polished expensive shoes, and his big rough hands unwrapping the sandwich he’d just bought inside the cafe.

When he had uncrossed his legs she had seen how lean and muscular the thigh closest to her was. She had found herself longing to touch it – to stroke her hand over it and grab it to see just how hard the muscles were. She’d struggled to take her eyes off him and had wondered what that body did when it wasn’t dressed in a business suit.

Her eyes had flicked to his when he’d stood up to leave. She’d managed a small smile; in return he’d nodded his head. She had dropped her gaze first. His had felt far too direct, nothing like she was used to in her experience of brief encounters in London.

The second week she’d found herself reaching for the same outfit with a little thrill of excitement. She’d known the chances of him being there were slim, but what the hell – right? If he was there, in their spot, she’d thought she might feel brave enough to sit a little closer. Maybe even say hello.

He wasn’t there when she arrived. She had dealt with her irrational disappointment as she had bought her coffee and sat down on the same bench outside the cafe. She’d ruefully admitted to herself that it had been a long shot and that she really needed to get a life. She had just got to the point where she was rethinking her OkCupid subscription when he sat down. He hadn’t just sat down either, he had closed the distance by at least half.

Her eyes had immediately latched onto his thigh and she had realised her heart rate had increased. It had been a rapid pulse through her body, a drum beat of arousal that she’d barely recognised. It had been so long and now it felt out of control and too intense, thick and heavy in her body.

She hadn’t known what to do with herself. Suddenly self-conscious, she had wrapped her arms around her middle and dragged her eyes away from him. It hadn’t made any difference. She’d felt his body like a magnetic pull. Crossing her legs she’d known he was looking at her red suede high heels.

An immediate image of them wrapped around his waist as he fucked her had swept through her mind and her cheeks had burned.

She had been the first to leave that week. Too jittery to sit still, she had placed her unfinished coffee on the bench and stood up. Unable to resist, she had looked at him to find him eying her full cup before his dark gaze had lifted to hers.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes… I…I need to go.”

He’d seemed to understand. She wasn’t wholly comfortable with that.

“Till next week then.” He’d said quietly.

As she’d turned to leave she’d noticed a flash of red silk around his neck and she’d known that he’d watched her as she walked away.

So now it’s next week and he has just sat down. She has spent the whole week wavering between regretting leaving and wondering what the fuck she was doing. Right now every muscle in her body is tense and doesn’t know if it’s preparing to run or to jump on him.

The gap between them is even smaller now. She can feel the heat from his leg penetrating her black skirt. Her toes curl in her red shoes and she is trying hard to maintain a steady breathing pattern. As her heart thumps an erratic rhythm in her chest, she watches his hand move to rest on the top of his thigh, matching her own.

Their little fingers are so close, she knows if they stretch them both out they will touch. Her fingers twitch and she holds her breath.

The first spot of rain lands on the back of her hand and it takes her a moment to realise what’s happening. They look at each other; he stands and holds out his hand to her. The heavy rain takes away her chance to think this through. She lets the water wash her doubts away and lifts her hand to his.

His rough palm envelopes hers and his skin is hot and dry sending a shot of sensation up her arm. She is still trying to process this when he pulls her to her feet and leads her into the cafe. They don’t stop moving until they have moved through the main room and entered the small, dark corridor in the far corner. She vaguely registers the staff sign on the door as he pulls her in and locks it behind them.

His dark eyes search her face. She knows she cannot mask her uncertainty but she knows her arousal is also clear to see. Her cheeks are hot and she can feel her nipples hard and tight against the damp material of her black dress.

Her hands are pressed flat against the door as he cups her face.

“Tell me you want this.” His voice is rough and deep, an intimate abrasion of her senses.

“Yes.” She whispers.

She doesn’t hesitate. This is a kind of madness but she wants to embrace it; she wants to live it.

His thumb gently strokes across her lips and his eyes follow it intently. They flash wide when her tongue darts out to lick it. She moves forward slightly and takes it into her mouth. She takes it all in and slowly pulls back running her tongue underneath, feeling every rough texture of his skin. He tastes a little salty but good; good enough to suck him again – hard. His eyes close and the low moan he lets out strokes over her body like a soft palm.

“Fuck!” He mutters. His hips jerk forward of their own accord and she feels his hard cock in the juncture of her thighs where she aches. Her need for friction is beginning to consume her when she feels his hand pull up her skirt.

“Are you wet for me?” He asks as his hands tug her silk knickers down to her knees.

She can’t take her eyes from his, she only nods and moans when his fingers find the answer for themselves.

Oh god, she is a wet mess. She can feel how easily he slides over her folds, how effortlessly they slide into her.

He places his free hand on the wall beside her head. She widens her stance, her knickers pulling tight across her legs.

Her hands are on his shoulders, gripping hard as he thrusts his fingers inside her. He sets a demanding rhythm, but she wants it, she drops into it, bending her knees and circling her hips, pressing her clit onto the palm of his hand. It is a perfect dance.

She feels her orgasm begin to form. As her abdomen pulls tight she squeezes her eyes shut. It is suddenly too much, a small seed of panic takes root and she begins to shake her head.

“Look at me.” He says quietly.

She opens her eyes. She see his arousal, it is plain to see, but there is no tension in his face. A sense of calm replaces the panic. She breathes deeply and embraces every movement of her body: the bounce of her breasts, the tension in her thighs. His head falls forward and she feels his hot, humid breath on her cheek. She rolls her head towards him, their lips just touching.

She is panting now – so close. She needs it and he seems to know it.

He thrusts harder, faster.

She is grinding down onto his hand. It hits her quickly then. Her hand goes to the back of his neck and she pulls him towards her as she moans her orgasm into his beautiful mouth.

She clenches around his fingers as they slow down, but he doesn’t stop. Not until she pulls back and their eyes meet.

Now it is his turn.

Thanks for reading as always! Check out the other Masturbation Monday posts over at Kayla’s site A Sexual Being.

Letting Off Steam – #masturbationmonday


letting off steam

Source: Tumblr

She walked into the hot bedroom before unbuttoning her blouse, the cicadas beating their incessant tune through the open screened windows. Moving slowly, there was purpose behind every movement. Her eyes missed nothing and when they landed on him, he knew. She needed to let off steam and he was the lucky bastard she was going to do it with.

“Get over here.” She spoke softly but there was steel threaded through her tone.

He walked towards her – the towel he’d just dried himself with wrapped around his waist. The heat was so oppressive he was already sweating again. He watched her blouse fall open to reveal the peach lace of her bra, her full breasts plumped up, her brown nipples pressing hard against the soft material. She shrugged out of the blouse and pushed her skirt over her full hips to the floor.

He didn’t have long to admire her before her hand flashed out and slapped him hard across his face. She whipped his towel away and pushed him back onto the armless chair by her dressing table, immediately straddling him and taking his face in her hands. She stroked his stinging cheek before bending to take his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

His cock was already so hard it rested against his stomach where it wept against hers as she ground herself on him.

She yanked her bra down, hooking the cups under her breasts, pushing them up – an invitation – no – a demand. She pulled his head to her, rubbing her breasts over his face, squeezing them together for him.

“Suck me.”

His mouth immediately found her tight, hard nipple. He sucked her salty skin, smelled her delicious scent, used his tongue and teeth – just how she liked it. He held her hips as they worked harder; he could feel how wet her panties were already as her pussy rubbed over him. Her breathing was hot and heavy.

God only knows what had put her in this state, but he wanted to be the one to make her feel better. He wanted to be the one to drive the devil out of her.

He moved across to her other nipple as her hands tugged and pulled at his hair. The sweet sting shot straight to his cock which ached like a fucker, but that just made this moment all the sweeter.

She suddenly lifted off his lap, tugged her panties to one side and positioned his cock at her entrance. She closed her eyes as she sank onto him.

“Oh yes.” She whispered. “Oh my fucking god that’s it, that’s what I wanted. Your cock in me, your hard cock… feels so good.”

He grunted in response, it was all he could manage as she started to ride him. This wasn’t about his pleasure, she was taking her own but watching her getting lost in it was enough to make him want to come on the spot.

“Oh yeah, right there.” She rolled her hips and pressed her clit down on him, moaning her pleasure.

He watched her breasts move, watched the flush of her skin, the light sheen of sweat appear. He watched her beautiful face, the fierce concentration as she worked towards what she wanted and knew he would never see a woman more sexually powerful.

She always destroyed him, and everytime he couldn’t wait for the next and the next – never enough.

Her hands went into his hair and she pulled his head back. “You’re not allowed to come.”

He felt a moment’s panic. It was always the same when she wanted this from him. He was close and never completely trusted his own self-control around her. His stomach dipped at the thought of disappointing her.

Gripping the seat of the chair with both hands as she continued to move on him, he closed his eyes to try and concentrate, but she wasn’t having that.

“Look at me when I come. I want you to see me, to know what you have given me.” He opened his eyes when she tightened her grip on his hair, grinding on his cock. “Your pleasure is mine. After this I will show you how much I appreciate that.” She panted.

His heart thudded at the thought of what that might entail.

“Oh baby, it’s now.”

She continued to look at him, but he saw the moment it took her away from him. Her head flew back as the pleasure consumed her, her hips lost their rhythm, hands dropped down to his shoulders, with nails digging in as she opened her mouth and yelled her climax out to the hot, humid night.

Her movements finally slowed, her nails lifted from his skin to be replaced with gentle strokes of her fingertips. Her head rolled forward and as her eyes opened he watched her return to him.

Ready for more.



Thanks for reading, people! Check out Kayla Lords’ site for more Masturbation Monday goodness.

Rebecca xx

Letting Go – #masturbationmonday


Letting Go masturbation monday 28

Source: Tumblr

Another successful function is over. This time it was for a charity close to your heart, one that you are rightfully very proud of.

You are dressed superbly as always, so elegant, so refined. The jewels sparkle at your wrist and your ears; your ring flickers under the chandeliers with every expressive movement of your hand.

You look like you were born to this. All the doubters fell by the wayside years ago. We don’t forget them though. You have no need of a corset, your steel backbone is all the support you require.

I follow the line of your gown down your body, cataloguing all the pieces of jewellery, clothing and lingerie that I need to peel away before I get to you. They are just props, a facade required at these events. They hide you, social camouflage for the beautiful, sensual woman I have in my bed every night.

I watch you take a sip of your champagne, remembering all the other times, all the previous functions that we have left.

Sometimes it starts in the limousine, sometimes we just can’t wait – your gown bunched up around your waist as I kneel between your legs. Other times we have gone home and I have undressed you slowly, stripping away the evening, leaving you bare to me and ready to be fucked.

Tonight I have something else planned and as we say our goodnights I take your hand and lead you to our car.

You sigh as we enter our apartment, stepping out of your high heels and flexing your toes. The past few weeks have been stressful, the people who attend these functions expect perfection for their $10,000 plate; you expect it of yourself, but it isn’t always possible.

It’s time to de-stress.

I take your hand again and lead you straight to our bedroom. Closing the door, I turn to you and place my hand on the side of your neck, gently drawing you towards me. Your hand comes up to rest on mine.

“I’m going to make you feel better, baby. Going to get rid of all that stress you’ve been carrying around lately. Turn around for me.”

Your lips form a small smile as your eyes drop to my mouth. You press your lips to mine before turning around. I draw the zip down the length of your back and the gown opens to reveal your beautiful pale skin. I trace a line along your spine and watch as the gown falls from your shoulders, catching briefly on the curve of your hip, before it lands in a sumptuous puddle at your feet.

You step out of it – only a small pair of silk panties remain – and I quickly kneel to draw them down your slender legs. I stand and run my hands over your shoulders, down your arms to your fingertips, which I raise to my lips.

“Now move to the bed and bend over. Lay your body flat and spread your legs for me.”

I hear your breath hitch; I see the excitement flare in your eyes. You know what’s coming and I know how much you love it.

You move into position, your arms above your head and I feel my own arousal heighten just from looking at you; your long legs straight and wide, your round, perfect ass pushed high. I can see your pussy just starting to glisten as you sway from side to side, impatient and needy now.

I remove my tuxedo jacket and tie. Undoing the top few buttons of my shirt, I roll the sleeves up over my forearms and flex my fingers, clench them into a fist then flex them again.

I know you are watching me in the full mirrors of the wardrobe. I know that you are desperate for me to begin, but first I run my hands over your ass, squeezing and pulling you apart.

“Please!” You whisper.

Normally I would make you wait, but not tonight. I move into position next to you, taking a last admiring glance at your flawless white skin. I cannot wait to put my mark on it.

I lift my hand high: you hold your breath. I bring it down hard, there will be no mercy tonight. You need me to take you outside of yourself and that is what I intend to do.

I hear you cry out – a release of tension more than a pained sound. I set a strong, hard rhythm, alternating cheeks, watching the first faint pink blush appear on your skin. Your hands are gripping the bedspread now, your head turned towards the mirror shows me your flushed, aroused face, eyes wide as you watch every movement that I make.

My cock presses against my trousers, aching and more than ready to fuck you, but I will wait. I want to make you come first – want to see you let go.

“Keep your ass high, I want to see how much you want it.”

I start to connect lower down on your ass: the fleshy part that sends the vibrations through your pussy, the place you love the most. Your eyes close for a moment, before the heavy lids lift again and I see you are lost in sensation, in the burning, stinging heat of your skin; the aching wetness between your legs.

It is time to finish this.

I shift slightly, stroke my hand gently over your red hot skin, listen to you moan long and low. You are circling your hips now, seeking every touch, every shard of sensation. You whimper when I take my hand away and I see my wicked smile in the mirror as I bring my hand down on your pussy. Three quick slaps: two high, one low directly on your clit.

You cry out when I thrust two fingers inside you, pumping hard and fast as I continue to spank your ass.

“Give it to me, baby. Let me see you.”

Every muscle in your body is tensed and ready. You’re straining for it. I can hear you chanting, “Yes, yes, yes…” under your breath, face down into the bedspread.

Two more slaps on your pussy and I fuck you with my fingers again, circling your swollen clit with my other hand.

Your head is still down, forehead burrowing into the bed, hands gripping the bedspread like you want to tear it apart.

I see the moment it hits you. You push back then try to move away, going on tip toe, your muscles taut, your shoulders hunched, as you pull the bedspread down into your body.

Then I hear it…

“Fuck… yes!!!”

… and I know you’ve done it. You’ve let it all go.

I’m on holiday right now, so it may take me a while to post comments and reply. Please bear with me.

As always, thanks for reading. Check out Kayla Lords’ site for more Masturbation Monday yumminess.

Rebecca xx

A Sure Thing: Part One – #masturbationmonday


Come On

Source: Tumblr

“Come on.” Josh says to me as he takes hold of my hand and begins to pull me towards his apartment from the pool where we’ve been sunbathing.

I’m looking at his cute ass in his denim cut-offs, his leanly muscled arms, wondering how I managed to hold out for so long. Even so, my reluctance to give in remains.

“Hold on…” I sputter as I trip over my feet. His grip only tightens on my hand. He glances over his shoulder at me and I see heat and frustration flash in his eyes. He knows I’m still not a sure thing and that pisses him off.

He’s everything I’ve avoided since I came out five years ago. I’m not interested in quick fucks – that’s all he does. I hate the clubbing scene – he’s really into it. I’ve lost count of the amount of guys I’ve seen leaving his apartment. He maybe fucking gorgeous, but I know he will be damaging to my mental health. So I’ve stayed away, given him the cold shoulder, and today he’s called me on it.

The thing is, when I laid it out for him I saw the hurt on his face, before he was able to mask it with a shrug of his shoulders and a false little laugh.

He admitted he was a complete slut, but somehow he managed to persuade me that he was what I needed to get the rod out of my ass. Actually, he said something about replacing it with his dick, but there is not a chance in hell that’s going to happen.

As we approach our apartments, I pull back on his hand to stop him when he reaches for the key in his pocket.

“Let’s use mine.” I say. I don’t want to be just another guy leaving his place when this is all over. He can do the walk of shame for a change.

He seems reluctant, but I hold his gaze and unlock my door. He shrugs again as his eyes slide away from mine. I frown at that. Where’s the cocky shit that I’ve never had any trouble keeping at arm’s length?

Once we’re inside I close the door and rest my back against it. Josh turns to face me, his hands in the back pockets of his cut-offs, his eyes on the keys I’m fiddling with in my hand. He looks strangely uncertain and I suddenly realise that he is full of shit. This isn’t his regular play. We’re not drunk and I’m not a stranger who he can kick out when he’s done and now he doesn’t know what the fuck to do.

“Come here, Josh.”

His eyes flit to mine. I see the panic so I’m ready for what comes next.

“Do you know what? I think you were right all along. Me and you, we’re just too different. Let’s stick to what we know, right?”

He starts to walk towards the door, obviously expecting me to move out of his way.

He tries a nonchalant laugh when I don’t move, but it comes out a little shaky and we both know it.

“Come on, Ben, open the door…”

“Stop talking, Josh.”

“I mean it, Ben, this isn’t a good idea…”

I decide actions are going to speak louder than words, so I lean forward and grab his hand, pulling him off balance. He lands against me with a “What the fuck?!”

I turn him so his back is against the door and put my mouth on his. It’s a rough, hard kiss. I’m trying to shut him up but it rapidly descends into a fight for dominance. I have a height advantage and I’m not afraid to use it. I hold his face, tilting him to an angle that I like. He likes it too, if his moan is anything to go by.

He tastes good: a hint of fruit from a drink he had earlier overlaid with mint. I lick into his mouth to get a better taste. It isn’t enough.

His hard on is pressed against mine, I grind against him, my hands fumbling with the bottom of his t-shirt. Finally, I find the way in and run my hands up his warm, firm abs to his chest. I feel the silken hair across his pecs. Needing to see it, I grab his top and yank it over his head.

Josh is panting now and looking a little wild. I lean back letting my eyes run down his beautiful body. His hard on is filling the front of his cut-offs.

“Take your cock out, Josh.”

There’s no hesitation now – his hands go straight to his button and pop it open. Then the zip goes down and I’m holding my breath.

He spreads the fly wide and his hand disappears inside for an excruciating moment as I wait. I watch him take hold before slowly pulling himself out.

Fuck! His cock is perfect. A good length, without being huge, and nicely thick. My mouth waters as I take in the rest; he’s cut, the head is pink and already leaking.

“Let me see you jerk off.” My voice is rough now. I’m close to losing it but I want to see this. My gaze flicks to his face to see him flushed and biting his lip as he watches me.

His hand immediately starts to work his cock with long, slow pumps. I see him squeeze the base, his eyes close and his head falls back against the door. It is the horniest thing I’ve ever seen, Josh on the edge of losing control.

His heavy lids open to look at me. “Wanna see you, Ben. Let’s do it together, please.”

I lean forward and place a soft kiss on his rosy lips before I stand back and quickly shove my swimming shorts down around my ass.

He stands a little straighter when he sees my cock for the first time, working himself faster as he watches me. My hand lands on the door beside his head, my arm locked straight as I look down on our cocks and the hands stroking them.

“Fuck, yeah.” I breath out.

We’re almost touching – it is sweet goddamn torture. Then Josh jerks his hips and the head of our dicks rub together. It’s like an electric shock shoots through my dick and I know the end is close.

“Gonna come – shit!” Josh gasps. I see his abs clench as he frantically works his cock.

Our hands bump together now as we both concentrate on the sensitive heads of our cocks. We’re going to come all over each others dicks and that’s the last thought I have before I shoot my load right where I want it the most.

As always, thanks for reading people!! Now go and check out the other hot posts for Masturbation Monday across at Kayla Lords’ place.

Moonlight – #masturbationmonday


The Piano

Source: Elisabetta Barbara De Sanctis

She walked through the moonlit house; the night was still except for the structure around her creaking and settling for the night. The warm air caressed her body and the floor boards were a cool balm to her bare feet.

She had left him to sleep, the sheet rumpled around his waist, his arms pushed under the pillow, but had been unable to resist a feather like touch along the muscular line of his back before rising. He never stirred.

She had been reluctant to leave him, but she couldn’t sleep – she couldn’t stem the flow of thoughts; always wondering, questioning… never sure.

So she walked until she came to stand before her solace. The wood was scratched now, the polished shine long gone, but she loved this piano: every nick and chip, every familiar key and pedal.

She ran her fingers along the keys, up and down, covering the black and the white, the majors and the minors. She needed to play but worried that she’d wake him. In the end she sat down – the draw was too great.

She settled her thumb on middle C, 1, 2, 3 – 1, 2, 3, 4 – her fingers flowed through the simple scale, effortlessly moving into the soft opening bars of her favourite piece of music. Clair de Lune soothed her – eased her tired mind. She lost herself in the melody, the beautiful expression, light on dark, the cascade of notes leading to the bolder, louder chords.

She stumbled over a few notes when his hands came to rest on her slim shoulders.

“Keep playing.” He murmured.

So she did.

She closed her eyes and embraced the music again as his hands slowly, gently moved down her chest to cup her breasts. She sighed as he stroked the sensitive underside, the place she loved him to kiss.

Her long, slender fingers spread wide, moving fast over the keys, her short, unpainted nails a blur against the discoloured ivory.

His hand followed the curve of her breast until he found her tight little nipples. Rolling and pulling them, he bent forward to bring his lips to the side of her neck. She instinctively moved to give him full access, still playing, but not so lost in the music now. Loving the feel of his mouth on her, his soft, full lips a sensory feast.

His soft tongue licked a long line from her collarbone, up to her ear, where he nipped her earlobe. His hands continued to play their own rhythm on her breasts, until they were full and heavy, begging for a firmer touch.

She shifted on the stool, opening her legs a little wider as her foot worked the pedal and her arms moved along the keyboard. She heard a rough laugh and her heart smiled.

He knew what she needed.

His hands slipped down to lay flat underneath her breasts, his arms under hers. His fingers tilted towards the juncture of her thighs as they stroked a path down her torso. The muscles in her stomach jumped and clenched as he passed over them; goose bumps rose despite the heavy, humid air.

Her body moved with the music – her hips rolled – his chest brushed against her back.

She gasped as the movement of her hips brought her into contact with his fingertips. He combed through the silken curls there – he loved to do that – could play with her for hours, he said. Right now, she wanted them to move lower, needed him to touch her where she ached the most.

“Please.” She whispered. Always so impatient.

“Open a little wider.” He encouraged.

Oh there! God, yes, there – right there!

His finger circled and rubbed, just the right pressure, just the right spot; his knowledge of her body always a constant source of surprise for her.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder, her fingers slowing, the notes halting and disjointed now.

“Is that good, baby?”

“Yes.” She breathed. “So good, I… you… don’t stop.”

She finally gave up playing, her hand falling to cover his, wanting to feel the movement of his fingers as he worked her body, spreading her legs wide so he could sink them inside her. In and out, the slick sounds a lewd accompaniment that only aroused her more.

She could feel it building now, her own perfect piece of music. She was a beautiful arpeggio, every note placed on her body and he played every single one.

His hand continued to work her, slipping out so he could focus entirely on her swollen, needy clit. It didn’t take long. She was so ready: one stroke, then another, and her back arched. She gripped his hand and yelled out her release, every question, every uncertainty floating out to the moonlit night.

Thanks for reading! Please check out the other hot Masturbation Monday posts over at Kayla Lords site.

Rebecca x

Giving In – #masturbationmonday


Giving In mast mon 26

Source: via ultratease Tumblr

I had woken up thinking about him, my body covered in sweat, my thighs clenched trying to hold onto the pulsing ache between them. Like waking from a fever dream, I had felt disorientated; my skin itched as if just touched, ghostly fingers had stroked a sheer trail over my heavy, slumberous limbs.

One of my hands had gripped the sheet, my knees drawing up as frustration crashed through me. I rubbed and dragged my nipples on the material as my body rippled and moved. Even my stomach craved the friction as it moved with the roll and surge of my hips and bottom. The cool air brushed my slick folds as my legs worked apart.

I had needed his touch: I wanted him so badly. It was always the same mixture of gratitude: that I could feel something this strongly after so long and fucking outrage that someone could control my body to this degree.

Tears of frustration had leaked from the corner of my eyes. I hadn’t wanted to touch myself. I had wanted him to do it. Only him.

Wanting his hands on me, his mouth, his tongue, I had writhed and tormented myself until I was screaming his name in my head. One second yelling for him to get out of my mind, my body, the next begging him to come to me, to put me out of my misery. The irony was that I knew he would come to me if I asked, the problem was I didn’t know how.

It only took one touch in the end, one press of my fingers, one circular motion on my swollen, hungry clit and I had burst open, screaming my climax to the empty, silent room.


Now I am waiting for him.

Pissed off with myself for giving in so easily (one text was all it took), but feeling that swelling desperation, the bone deep need to see him build inside me, I sit and wait on our park bench. My light summer skirt blows up in the breeze and I place my hands on my lap to hold it down.

I don’t have to wait for long. He is always punctual, prides himself on it.

I continue to stare ahead as he sits beside me, but I feel his arm go around my back to rest along the wrought iron seat.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks softly.

“I didn’t need to call you.” I answer abruptly.

“Why do you fight it so hard? Why can’t you just accept us, this?”

This isn’t the first time he has asked me this. I know the answer, but I cannot verbalise it. Saying the words would mean giving up another part of me and I am not prepared to do that. But his very presence makes a liar of me. I feel the heat of him down my side, the gentle movement of his finger on my shoulder and I want him.

It is that fucking simple.

Closer… Touch me… Fuck me.

My throat is tight – I can barely swallow – the words stuck like toffee. The muscles in my thighs are so taut they’re almost vibrating.

“You’re really on edge. Are you wet and swollen?” His hand comes to rest on my bare knee, I bite my lip. “I’m going to make the ache go away… going to make you give in.” He catches the involuntary shake of my head and laughs low and soft. “I know you don’t want to, but you know you need to.”

His hand begins to slide up my thigh. I hold my legs together, unknowingly making things easy for him. Twisting his upper body towards me, he thrusts his hands up my skirt and yanks my knickers down to mid thigh. I see them briefly, brazenly sitting there just below my skirt for the world to see, or the lunch time strollers at any rate. I don’t have time to absorb my shock before he takes hold of my hair and turns my face towards his.

His eyes roam my face. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but they finally rest on mine and I flinch slightly.

“Stop hiding from me.” He says against my mouth.


“Let me in.”

His hand flicks my skirt up and dives under. My thighs quiver, a last ditch effort to stay closed before they loosen and he takes immediate advantage.

I gasp against his lips on first contact, our gazes locked.

His fingers plunge into my drenched, engorged flesh and my eyes close as I finally receive the touch that I have craved.

This is bliss.

He works his fingers inside me, setting a steady, heavy rhythm, banging up against my clit with every up stroke. I moan into his mouth and spread my legs a little wider, feeling my knickers pull tighter, whispering “Yes, yes, yes…” – a mantra dragged from a place deep inside of me.

He pulls back slightly so he can watch his hand moving under my skirt, see how shameless I look and I open them a little more.

“Fuck, yeah! You’re beautiful – dirty – perfect.” He murmurs.

He adds another finger, stretching me, going deeper. I can feel it taking over my body, growing and building until I am panting and break out in a fine sweat.

My eyes fly open as he grips my hair tighter, the sharp pain bringing a sudden moment of clarity. I am going to give him what he wants. I fight it briefly, but there’s really no point. My body has accepted it even if my mind has not.

“Oh god! Please don’t stop…” I am frantic now, oblivious to time or place.

“I won’t… give it to me. Let me feel it.”

“Yes, now, it’s now…”

I close my eyes, feel my breasts move with the force of his thrusts and holding my breath I let go and finally give in…

…and it is glorious.

As always, thanks for reading. Hop on over to Kayla Lords site A Sexual Being for more hot Masturbation Monday posts.