by CJ Roberts
Oh, God, the tip breaches you. I have to say I’m beside myself. This is one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever witnessed. Gently, I move forward as you gently press back. We are doing this mini fucking with only half inside you. More oil and we both advance another inch.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, “we’re almost there.”
Fuck, you press back, and you order me to fucking move and to fuck you. If I don’t, you’re going to bend me over your knee and spank the shit out of me. I start fucking you, the friction of the harness against my clit about to send me over again, but I won’t let myself come until you say I can.
The pleasure is unimaginable. I feel your cock swell and I know you’re close, and as if on cue, you command me to come, and I do, screaming your name, calling you a fucking god as I fuck your ass, my very vocal pleasure pushing you over and you cover our pristine sheets with your seed. We collapse together, dildo still inside you. The reversal of roles tickles the hell out of me and I really start giggling, remembering that you still dominated me from the bottom. You start laughing with me and finally say, “Baby, do you mind?”
Blushing, I gingerly remove the dildo and harness.
We make out and laugh like we were teenagers until we drift off to dreamland wrapped up in each other’s arms.
About the Author
Jessie Ceilidh is from the Midwest and interested in all things erotica. She loves to read and just found out she has a passion for writing short stories. She is a wife and a mother of two that works full time nights.
She can be reached through her tumblr page: http://girlslovegoodinnuendo.tumblr.com/ and more stories at:http://www.tumblr.com/search/Glgiwritings
Show Me
By Jessie Ceilidh
Honorable Mention
CJ’s Thoughts: Show Me Yummy! I often like to imagine Caleb is a real person and if he were, I think I would write him stories and letters all the time. This was a short and sweet fic that read like a poem. Thank you for writing it and leaving me with a warm feeling inside (my pants).
I fell asleep remembering our last conversation, recalling your voice with its deep, sexy, rich baritone that I could listen to forever. With erotic images dancing in my head, I slip into dark dreams of secret desires and passions too long denied, my hands unconsciously wandering in my sleep.
Roused from my dream, I see you sitting in your chair, impeccably dressed in suit and tie, leg nonchalantly crossed over a knee, your chin in your hand as you watch me. My hands had been roaming with abandon, body bowed and writhing. You tell me to stop, that my hands are your hands, and you will do as you wish.
I await further instruction.
That deep whiskey smooth voice softly demands, “Run your hands through your curls. Lift them and spread them across the pillow. Slowly trail your fingers down the column of your neck to those rosy tipped tits. Now pluck and pull them. I want to see how perky you can get them for me. Twist them for me. Yes, that’s it.”
I hear the unmistakable rasp of a zipper, and looking toward the sound, I see you have pulled out your gorgeous cock. I watch you as you slowly stroke yourself. The heat in your gaze flushes my skin and your voice is deeper now as you continue, “Do you like to watch me stroke myself, Pet?”
I almost make an unladylike snort and respond with “Duh,” but I restrain my sarcastic remark… Um, I want to come several times tonight. Slowly licking my lips, I slip into character and my response is exactly as expected. “Yes, Master, it pleases me.”
“Run your hands down your body, Pet. Spread your legs with your knees slightly bent. Show me what pleases me.”
I slide my hands down my rib cage, over the slight swell of my tummy, keeping eye contact the whole time, slipping my hands between my thighs and slowly pushing them apart. My hands with deep ruby painted nails frame my weeping sex, already readied, needy and achy, anticipation and lust thickens the air.
I watch you slowly stroke your cock nonchalantly, with its delicious curve to the left that hits sweet spots I didn’t even know I had. Your demeanor, as always, is controlled, your face passive except for the fire in your eyes. It’s as if your cock is an afterthought or your actions are just for me.
I’m mesmerized by your hand on your cock, with its slow, hypnotic motions up and down your length. Oh, God. Things clench deep inside me when I see a string of clear precum dripping from your head. I can’t stop an agonized groan and bite my lip. What a waste…
“Is there something amiss, Pet?”
I’m beyond turned on, feeling open and exposed. I’m craving you to the point of pain. I need your cock pulsing deep inside me. “Your desire is my desire,” I beg. “Please, Master, let me pleasure you as you wish.”
“Show me how much you want me Pet. Show me!”
I spread my legs further, running my fingers up and down my glistening lips, spreading my juices everywhere. I sink two fingers deep, rolling my hips to fuck my fingers, clit grinding against my palm, sliding my other hand up to cup my breast and tease my nipple. My head falls back as I work my body for you, whimpering in need, lost in myself.
Your voice, guttural and harsh, breaks through, “Is this display for me, Kitten?”
I know I’m close to my goal when I hear the endearment. I didn’t realized you moved. Here you are beside the bed, trousers around your ankles, gorgeous dripping cock in hand. I remove my soaked fingers and slip them between my lips, sucking myself off them. You go perfectly still and watch me, your nostrils actually flaring.
Suddenly your hand is in my hair and you’re pulling me up to you, twisting me on top of you as you sit on the edge of the bed. Your mouth covers mine and your tongue battles with mine as you sit me on your cock. We both gasp and share the other’s breath as you impale me on your length. You are flexing and grinding up into me, gripping my hips as you hold me down onto you.
I’m seeing stars, I’m so fucking close. You are still holding me down as you break the kiss, working your lips to the corner of my mouth to nibble the edge of my jaw, my neck. You tease my earlobe and gruffly whisper, “Show me, Kitten, show me how much you need me. Show me.” Your grip on my hips loosens as you sink your teeth into my shoulder, marking me as yours. “Show. Me.”
There’s something in your voice, a hint of desperation. I put my hands on either side of your face and stare deeply into your eyes. I’m taken aback by this tender moment and that you’re showing me your weakness for me. I press my lips to yours tenderly kiss you and lovingly roll my hips against you. As I slowly rock on your cock, I stare at you, telling you between moans and gasps of pleasure, “Baby, you’re in my blood. You are a part of me. You have captured a corner of my soul. When I close my eyes, I see you. When I take a breath, I breathe you in. My every thought is consumed with you. I’m yours forever.”
My sweet words of love completely undo you and you thrust up into me, spurting your essence against my womb. When I feel you pulsing deep inside me, my own pleasure explodes and I’m rippling around you, milking every precious drop…
Your forehead presses against mine and you whisper, “I love you, Kitten.”
My world is complete.
I wanted to bask in the aftermath of our lovemaking, but real life is sometimes too real, however I took the time to leave you this note on my pillow, where I knew you would automatically reach for me…
Caleb,
You are my universe.
It makes things clench deep inside, imagining you stretching me. I’d always have to be slick and readied for you. You would have to be careful, probably make me come a couple times (oh darn). With each orgasm, you’d gain more access to my body until you have yourself fully seated, letting my body get used to that pleasurable uncomfortable invasion. Oh my God, it hurts, this conquering of my body, but fuck, oh my God… FUCK! I’d do a little mini bump and grind, pressing down and grinding my clit against you, working towards yet another orgasm, so then you could finally let go and fuck me as you wished. God, I’d be so tight around you,
this unaccustomed width. As my body welcomed you it would also fight against your thick cock, gripping you like a silken fist. It would almost hurt you when you fucked me, but fuck, it would hurt so good… Ruin me. Ruin me for any other man… Leave your mark on me…
Be ready to ruin me,
Livvie
About the Author
Jessie Ceilidh is from the Midwest and interested in all things erotica. She loves to read and just found out she has a passion for writing short stories. She is a wife and a mother of two that works full time nights.
She can be reached through her tumblr page: http://girlslovegoodinnuendo.tumblr.com/ and more stories at:http://www.tumblr.com/search/Glgiwritings
When the Angels Fall
By Aimi Deidre
Honorable Mention
CJ’s Thoughts: Oh, girl! First, I have to assume you are also a big SUPERNATURAL fan because that opening scene was vivid in my mind. Second, you like it dark and grimy, and I am SO into that! Third, mmm Caleb the Angel of Darkness - yes, please. Finally, another great fic. I hope you keep your login and keep writing…. maybeyoucouldwritemesomeWincestbecausethatshitisSUPERhot.
Prologue
The world ended when the angels fell. We thought it was a meteor shower at first; bright, shooting stars falling down the skies as if the whole universe rained down their beauty on us. I remember emerging out of my house in the middle of the night, watching the skies in awe.
When they got closer—too close—I realized they weren’t shooting stars. They were balls of flames. I was too transfixed to hide, and I watched in horror as I saw what they actually were. They were men. Strong-muscled bodies with white wings surrounded by flames. When they dropped to Earth, everything exploded.
The arrival of the angels didn’t mean the world became a better place. It didn’t mean we were given salvation. They were raiders and we were roaches. They said they couldn’t stand watching us destroying ourselves and the entire planet, so they came to put things right.
Starting with our blood.
When the angels fell, the whole world sang red.
Chapter One
They killed a group of homeless people in the old Leicester Square; it was a public execution, so everyone went to see.
I stood in the midst of crowd, my feet unable to run from the gallows. I should’ve taken this chance, while everybody was preoccupied with the soon-to-be-dead-people, to steal whatever I could from the garbage bins before anyone else put their dibs on them. But like everybody else, I couldn’t steer my eyes away from the square. There were two of them this time, one boy and a girl. The boy was probably around my age, eighteen and skinny, with gaunt cheekbones and greasy clumps of dark hair that hung to his shoulders. The girl looked much younger, fourteen perhaps. I didn’t know them; they weren’t part of my crowd.
I tried to barricade my heart from any sympathies as an angel slowly marched toward them, his sword still clipped to his belt. I’d never known them, but they were still humans. They used to be my people.
A priest stood on a platform wearing a black robe with white collar. He was much younger than any priests I used to know. I didn’t think any of them had survived when the angels came. However, this priest was much different from the old priests. For one thing, he held himself with such hauteur, walking back and forth, his eyes gleaming with wicked glee as he rattled off a list of crimes. I narrowed my eyes at him with distrust. Traitor. Many humans tried to fall to the angel’s good graces. It was their ticket to survival and a better way to live compared to those of us who had to scavenge for food and risked being the angels’ prey. But becoming the angels’ pet would mean betraying humans. I hated them more than the angels.
“… robbery and trespassing the district compound. These criminals attempted to steal food rations from a private warehouse. Stealing is punishable by death. May your death clean your sins before you are presented to the great Lord. May He show mercy for the evil you have done to yourself and to this world. Amen.”
I wanted to snort. They were just doing whatever they could to survive. Food was so scarce here that we were dying day by day from starvation. If the angels didn’t kill us off, then hunger would. If surviving was a sin, then we were all guilty.
He crossed the air in front of him and stepped back as the angel of death stood in front of the criminals. I hadn’t seen many angels since their arrival. I only watched them from afar on the TV screens and flyers about the angels’ call to Earth. It was much safer than meeting an angel head on. Whenever I heard the sound of flapping wings, I’d hide into a dark corner until whatever it was flying in the sky was long gone. I didn’t want to be in their line of sight and draw their attention to me. It was simple instinct. You don’t draw the predator if you’re the prey. But I saw this angel more frequently than the others, for it was him who executed hundreds of humans in public.
For an angel of death, he was the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. He was tall and muscular. His skin was tanned as if he was kissed by the sun. His hair was blond and he had shimmering, cold, Caribbean blue eyes. He was devastatingly beautiful. He was terrifying. I couldn’t pull my eyes away as the angel ripped into the criminals with his bare hands. Blood sprayed all over the platform and some of the spectators closest to the gallows were covered in blood. The atmosphere shifted to fear. They watched in horror as the angel tore their limbs apart with his hands, his body coated with crimson ink. Innards sloshed to the platform with a heavy, squishy sound and I forced myself not to throw up. It wasn’t the color of the blood that made me want to claw my own skin. It was the blood-curdling screams of the criminals as they watched themselves being ripped apart, flesh by flesh until their vocal chords stopped working and what was left of them was nothing but strings of meat and bones.
I still didn’t move when the angel turned toward us with blood dripping down his face. I could no longer see his blond hair—it was now dyed with red. His eyes were still the same; the same cold, startling blue that made me shiver with cold dread. The crowd screamed and climbed over each other as they tried to run away from the square. I was shoved as they ran past me toward their hidey holes like cowering rats. I wanted to follow them, to run and blend myself with the flock of sheep but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the wolf. Caleb. The angel of darkness. The most terrifying angel on Earth.
Angels were clean freaks. They killed with their swords without blood touching their clothes. But Caleb liked it messy. He preferred to use his hands as a weapon of murder and gorge himself in bloodlust. I knew he enjoyed killing more than his brothers or sisters after seeing the bloodlust in his eyes.
And when he zeroed his cold eyes on me, I shook uncontrollably. I watched his blood-splattered face, my feet frozen in fear. Caleb flicked his tongue out as he continued watching me, licking the blood from his mouth in slow, lazy licks, like a bored cat.
I turned and ran as fast as I could.
Chapter Two
I woke up with a pounding headache and noticed two things simultaneously: it was dark and I was lying on a bed. I quickly stood up, despite my muscles groaning in protest, and looked around my surroundings in fear. Where am I? Why am I on a bed? The last thing I remembered was sleeping under a bridge. I didn’t like sleeping in an exposed area, but the place I normally slept was already taken by ugly, mongrel-looking men who leered when they saw me approaching. I fled after that.
I looked around me, my heart stuck in my throat as I contemplated escape. I was in a room. It looked luxurious; heavy crimson curtains stopped the sunlight from infiltrating through the windows. The bed was incredibly soft, as if it was stuffed by feathers—or cotton. Heck, what did I know? My old mattress—before the apocalypse—was made out of foam. This felt much more delicate.
I looked down and heaved a sigh of relief. Whoever put me here at least hadn’t removed my clothes. Which means I wasn’t…violated. Good to know. I pushed myself off the bed and twisted the doorknob. It didn’t budge and I bit my lip in frustration. Som
eone didn’t want me to leave. I moved to the windows next but the locks looked like they’d been melted. I scowled at the melted iron in dismay. I was a trapped animal. I didn’t recognize the surroundings outside. There were large cargo containers in neat rows on the compound outside, but that was it. There were no humans or anything remotely friendly.
There was a click behind me and I twirled around as a woman entered into the room.
“Good, you’re up. Saves me from waking you. Eat. We have a long day ahead of us.” The woman was probably around my mom’s age. Her skin was slightly withered, her brown hair tied into a tight bun. She placed a foil container on a table and looked at me expectantly.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, my voice came out raspy. “Where am I? Why did you take me?”
“You are where I want you to be,” she said with indifference. Her eyes held no remorse as if she was a walking corpse. “Why you’re here is because you have a job to do and I’m here to see it done.”
“Job? What job?” I asked in confusion. After everything went to hell, jobs no longer existed. The system perished. Schools, education, movies—those were the dreams of the past. Now, it was dog-eat-dog world. Survival. The angels took everything. They destroyed everything. And suddenly, there was no food. No clean clothes. Nothing. I was never a picky eater after that. I grabbed anything I could lay my hands on—rats, spiders, squirrels, even moldy food. There was no tasting, only easing the hunger.
