The Cutprice Guignol

Happy Saturday! You all seemed to enjoy (ahem) that post I shared earlier this week from my lesbian erotica writing, so it seems like primo time to share some of my Straight nastiness with you, too. In case you missed it, I released a femdom-themed erotica series last year, called ALPHA FEMALE, that you can get your hands on right here in its entirety. Need a little taster? Take a look at one of the smoking-hot sex scenes below. NSFW/18+ under the jump:

I hadn’t realized how badly I had wanted him until that moment. Sometimes, when I was in this headspace, it felt as though I had slipped into being someone else entirely, some new persona moving in to take control. And I liked the way it felt, liked the release it gave me. Gone were the stresses of my day, the quiet mundanity of Syd. In their place was this, this freedom, this chance to do whatever I wanted to. I could feel the warmth of it filling my veins, unwinding me, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to wait long before I was forced to find some way to relieve the tension building deep in my belly.

I moved behind him, where he couldn’t see me, and watched as his chest rose and fell rapidly. The adrenalin was pulsing off him in waves, his desire for me so intense I could almost taste it in the air. I slid my hand down over his shoulders, his heartspace, his belly, letting my fingers trail between his shirt and his jeans, peeling up the former so I could touch his skin. I could see him getting hard, straining against his pants, and he shifted in his seat, silently urging me to go further.

I slipped my hand down a few inches further, gripping his erection through his pants. He groaned and tipped his head back, eyes closed, jaw tensed, and I watched the minutiae of his expression as I squeezed him softly. His brow furrowed slightly, his lips parted, as though he was trying to inhale me. He was greedy for me, just like he had been that first night we’d spent together. His eagerness was impossibly sexy to me; it was one thing to be wanted, but it was quite another to be wanted so intently and to know that you could choose to indulge it or not.

He was swelling to full hardness beneath my fingers, and I knew I wanted more. I reached into my bag and drew out a condom, glad that I had taken the girl scout’s motto attitude to sex – always be prepared. His eyes flew open when he heard the crinkling on the foil, and he grinned when he laid eyes on the condom in my fingers.

“Like this?”

“Like that,” I replied firmly, swivelling the chair around to face me and reaching down to undo his jeans. He groaned loudly as I pulled his cock out, taking it in my hand – I glanced around to make sure nobody might have heard us, but I didn’t want to take the chance anyway.

“Quiet,” I ordered him, and I was surprise at how commanding my voice sounded, how in-control. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip to keep the noise in as I pulled out the condom and rolled it over his cock. He was rock-hard, his cock so tempting that it was hard not to just straddle him and take him inside me right then and there, but I held myself back. Just an inch. Just for a moment. Every bit of control I could exert over myself seemed to have ten times the power over him, and I wanted to exploit every inch of that.

He stared up at me, eyes burning, and I met his gaze steadily. There was that feeling again, that flood of want mixed with the urge to deny. His breath was coming hard and fast now, his need for me blatant. And finally, I let myself give in to it.

Sliding my jeans and my panties down, I kicked them away and climbed on top of him; not taking my eyes from his, I glided my pussy against his cock, grinding against him teasingly. A smile curled up on to my mouth as his eyes squeezed shut, as though he was trying to deny just how much he wanted me, just how little release I was offering.

“Look at me,” I commanded him, sliding one hand to the back of his head and tugging it back so that his head was tilted up in my direction. He opened his eyes once more and did as he was told. And I figured it was only right to reward him for his obedience.

Sliding my other hand between his legs, I wrapped my fingers around the base of his erection and guided him inside of me. He let out a long breath as he slipped into me for the first time, something like relief. His hands, bound beside me, flexed against the constraints of his bindings, but he didn’t complain. And I sure as hell wasn’t either.

I began to move on top of him, grinding down on to his dick and taking as much of him as I could manage in one go. He arched his hips to push further into me, and I pressed down on them at once.

“Still,” I ordered him. “Don’t move.”

“Yes, mistress,” He murmured, his teeth gritted. And the sound of that word was alchemic, electric. The title was almost monarchical, the power of it enough to make me feel like royalty. I moved harder against him, riding him with more purpose now, the sensation swelling up to fill me.

I moved down to kiss him, just barely brushing my mouth against his before I pulled back again. He lunged his head forward, trying to deepen the embrace, and I bit my lip and leaned away.

“Not yet,” I told him, watching as his eyes began to glaze with need.

“When?”

“I’ll let you know,” I wrapped my arms around him, using the leverage to go harder. “Just trust me.”