(Warning- Mature content, reader(s) advised)-
The way she walked into his tent bothered him. Demanding respect from him only with her facial expression. She didn't need to say a word. He felt like he would soon be begging for mercy and on his knees once his body and hers were less than a few inches apart.
His hair was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her eyes beamed with curiosity seeing him adorned in a purple toga with gold embroidery. She approached him and leaned forward, bowing respectfully, lowering her head, too.
She felt like she was under a spell- with those aquamarine eyes of his. He pushed his seat backward away from the breakfast table and moved closer to her side where she stood near the long dark brown rug.
Her heart started to skip a beat once she smelt his quite strong grape wine and lavender scent. He stroked her chin and slowly brushed his fingers across her two lips. She sighed and shut her eyes.
He grinned enjoying the control that he had over her mind, body, and soul. She opened her eyes and pounced on him like a predator ready to devour its prey.
With one hand she began unwrapping the toga that was draped over his arm. Then with her other hand, she slid it at the back of his neck. She pulled him closer and gently sucked and bit his lower lip.
He bent his head backward and moaned. She laughed and tossed his toga to the side on the rug ready to keep going.
One of the soldiers was standing guard at the front door of the emperor's tent keeping an eye out to make sure no one came to interrupt the emperor at this time. If anyone disturbed the emperor, that person would have to face the emperor's wrath and end up being tossed into the maze of despair to face the mythological creatures or try to find their way out of the vast unending maze that was impossible to escape from.
The emperor smiled and stared in awe at the sight of the dark caramel and gold skin tones of his goddess. She wore a light colorful tunic, vibrant bejeweled sequin fascinator, & a blend of assorted berry lipstick.
With a sudden movement, she slipped out of her light tunic, carefully took the vibrant bejeweled sequin fascinator off her head. She twirled around and began dancing, as she danced the beads on her waist swayed in a circular motion. The emperor watched and smiled at seeing the other beads dangling between her breasts.
He squeezed her closer to his body, playing with the tips of her breasts, sucking and biting on them like a hungry newborn. She cried out from the pain and burst of satisfaction of his every action.
The emperor kissed her and held her tight. Silently making a wish that even in the next life, they would find each other, to be together for all eternity.
#DesertFlames (c). 01/14/2021. Friyay.
Say “I’m Sorry”, But Make It Naughty
*Warning graphic content
The ruckus in the reception room could compete with the sounds of the busy New York street underneath Sara’s window. Through her closed office door, she could clearly hear a man was gradually raising his voice at Vera. The poor receptionist was new but quite competent. Hardly any reason for anyone to bash her like this. Sara tore herself away from the supplies report needed for tonight’s Christmas party and came to see what it was all about.
A guy stood perched on the front desk, a little too close for Vera’s comfort, and pointed God knows what, with his manicured finger on the surface of the desk. His hair was freshly cut and ruffled. His beige Burberry coat had buckles on the sleeves and near its raised collar, a la Tom Cruise-Top Gun style. He looked young and entitled.
The heated discussion attracted the attention of the other employees on their floor who peeked their heads to see what was going on. The least they needed was a distraction ahead of the upcoming version release.
“Vera, what seems to be the problem here?” Sara asked.
The man raised his head and a smirk appeared on his lips as he righted himself. His daring hazel eyes lingered a little too long on the wrong areas of her body. Men usually smirked and checked her out for she did not look a day over 22 despite pushing 31.
“The gentlemen here – ”
“Mr Jung Jr.” he added, not tearing his gaze from Sara.
“Mr Jung Jr. says he is Mr Jung’s grandson and insists on waiting in his office.”
“I am sorry, Mr Jung Jr., but Mr Jung is out and he did not announce he was expecting anyone. Waiting in his office is out of the question. You are welcome to wait here in the reception,” and Sara pointed at a set of very comfortable armchairs. “We could bring you some coffee or tea.”
“My grandfather bought your company and you expect me to wait by the door? Like any loser?” He blurted with an incredulous expression.
He did say those words and they were not a joke, rubbing Sara in all the wrong ways, muscles tensing under her olive skin.
“What are you? His secretary?” he continued in the same uptight tone. “Go ahead and call him yourself. He will tell you who I am.”
“I am the Office Manager, Sir. And I can not call our CEO as he is meeting important clients. I highly doubt this requires us to disturb him. But I have the perfect place for someone of your status.” Sara came closer and took his arm. The man did not oppose as he seemed to enjoy her proximity.
Being close to him Sara was hit by his luxurious cologne mixed in with some alcohol. And it was not even noon. She wondered if he would be the type who blamed his drinking for his mistakes. That could explain his overbearing exuded self-importance.
All absorbed in her presence and in his entitlement, he did not notice he was being led to the exit door until it was too late. “What do you –” but could not formulate his question, because Sara closed the door in his face, wishing him a good day.
“And do not let him in again,” she said, turning to Vera. The doorbell buzzed without stop and the irked man banged and shouted threats from outside until Sara added loud enough for him to hear. “And if he continues like that, call security please, Vera.”
A troublemaker through and through, he had no problem shouting at her, through the door, something about a Bitch. Sara did not care. She had tough skin, forged in Queens, on the wrong side of the tracks. And she was a busy Queens bee who had a lot to do ahead of tonight’s Christmas party.
By night time, all of her colleagues were already headed to the reception at the hotel from across the street. Sara had to stay behind to draft the final bills before calling it a day.
When getting to a party, it’s better to be late than never.
She pulled out the little dark green dress with sequins from the dress cover and changed in her office, then pulled out a mirror to fix her makeup and hair. Her olive-green eyes stared back at her with some unwanted bags under them. Her eye and skin colour came as a package, courtesy of her Italian grandmother and might just be what saved her precious time getting ready. Good skin needed not much cover and a simple brown eyeliner would do wonders. When she checked herself again she thought she did not look 20. Perhaps a very exhausted 29 years old. She shrugged it off.
Her ex always complained about her looking like coming from a train wreck every time she got home. Perhaps that whore, who will not be named, that he cheated on her with would look better after working 10 hours a day with her eyes stuck in a laptop screen.
She did not miss him. Good riddance. But she did miss something.
Out, in the chilly air, she pulled her coat around her and checked for cars before crossing on the other side. Nighttime in the city around this neighbourhood was eerie quiet. Steam columns danced their way out of the manhole covers like ghosts on the wet pavement. Sirens, calling for each other in the distance, were replaced by music as soon as she passed through the revolving doors of the hotel.
The dance floor was overflowing with people, celebrating a successful release and a night out paid for by the company. Sara avoided dancing for now. Perhaps after a couple of drinks. She sat at the bar and ordered two Dry Martini. After drinking the first glass she felt a heated stare drilling in her back. She turned but found no one. Only people letting loose to the dance moves. She gulped down the second glass and hit the dance floor. A sure recipe to make herself invisible to anyone staring at her.
She let down her hair and swayed to the music put on by the DJ. A couple of the girls from the office recognised her and came to dance together. She felt liberated until another body slowly glued itself on her back, following the same rhythm as she was. Strangely, she was not creeped out. A lot of things are allowed on the dance floor. She pulled her hair to the side with intend to glance at who was behind when foreign hands came to grab her waist and helped her turn around, coming eye to eye with a somewhat handsome face.
The same face she threw out the door this morning.
He smirked at her, then leaned closer to her ear, taking advantage of her shock. “Not the so stuck up after a couple of drinks I take. Mind if I buy you some more?”
Sara pushed him away and shouted, hoping it would be loud enough to make herself heard over the music. “The drinks are already paid for.” She moved past him and headed in the direction of the bar because she had no other direction to head for. The man followed her and sat next to her on a stool.
“Cranberry vodka and whatever she had before. It did her good,” he said to the bartender, while Sara rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her colleagues, dancing.
He waited for the drinks to be ready before handing over the Dry Martini. “Since we are sharing drinks, we could share our names as well. I’m Lucas, Lucas Jung. And you are?”
Sara looked at him sideways. She did not want to take the drink. She’d better not take the drink. Why did she take the damned drink?
After a first sip, she replied in an ice-cold tone, “Sara Daniels,” and put aside the glass, no longer gulping it down in one shot. She better keep focused.
“Yes, yes, the Office Manager, right? Better call yourself Office Guardian.” He displayed an insatiable grin. “Hey, we started on the wrong foot. I am sorry if I was a bother earlier.”
Sara huffed at him then turned on her rotating chair to ignore him once more.
“You could say sorry too, you know,” Lucas continued. “I did ask my grandfather to give you a raise for defending that office of his like a lioness.”
She wanted to get up and leave, annoyed for becoming his joke target, but he gently grabbed her arm.
“Hey, I am sorry, I really am,” he said with enough sincerity to make something shift inside of her. She stared at his daring fingers wrapped around her arm, then into his eyes.
Before she remained a prisoner in that hazel abys, she leaned over, “You wanna dance?”
Lucas smiled and nodded. Sara headed back to the dance floor not checking to see if he was coming. She knew he was close behind. When he put his hands on her again she turned and came even closer, swaying her body, wrapping her arms around his neck and teasing him. He stared at her as a boy caught with his hand in the candy jar. Not knowing if he was about to be punished, but unwilling to let go of the candy.
“You – you wanna go upstairs? I’m staying in the penthouse.”
Sara grinned at him. “Of course you are,” and she continued to sway to the music.
After some time and some awkward glances at her, he asked again, looking out of place from having to repeat the question. “So? You want to go up?”
She liked to put him in difficulty and remained silent. In turn, she unwrapped her arm from around his neck and continued to dance by herself. Now that he was delving in uncertainty, she could tease him some more. But Lucas took her by the hand and led her out of the dance floor and the party room.
Sara stayed with him, as they passed the front desk and reached the elevator. He still kept her hand in his, barely grasping her fingers. It felt cold, moist and soothing. She could easily pull it out, yet she wanted to see where all this would lead. It did occur to her he might assault her, but she had a blue belt in karate, courtesy of her Chuck Norris obsessed father, and she would not feel sorry to inflict some pain if he deserved it.
During the elevator ride, she kept staring at him but he avoided returning the favour. Perhaps he was afraid to start a conversation that might lead to her leaving. Once inside the penthouse, he set aside his suit jacket on the couch.
“Some wine?” he inquired, sifting through a couple of bottles from a dedicated bar and picking one. He kept talking while opening the bottle, “I wish I could brag about my personal taste, but I am afraid this is the hotel’s selection. It looks promising.”
Sara remained under the archway connecting the small lobby with the main room. She looked around. It smelled of potpourri and bleach. The city was peeking in from the two stories high windows. To her right was the bathroom. The bed could be glimpsed on the mezzanine. She wondered if she should let herself in or turn around and leave with a lame excuse.
“This was a mistake,” she went for the truth and for the door.
Lucas dashed to stop her, “Hey, hey, wait!” he tried to grab her shoulder but his hand recoiled back with a screech. “Auch! What do you have there? Pins and needles? Jesus!”
Sara was surprised to see his finger bleeding and instinctively looked at her shoulder pad. It had big holographic sequins and they were sharp. “You cut yourself? What are you? 8?”
“I’m 23! Thanks for the compliment.” He still had a sense of humour despite winching in pain like a kid.
“Alright, let me see that,” she came closer to assess his wound and entered together in the bathroom. She put his finger under the faucet and looked around the hotel amenities but found no disinfectant, nor a bandaid. Five-star hotel rubbish. Luckily she was always prepared. She dug around her purse and took out the hand sanitiser and a bandage.
“Well, now I am impressed,” he joked while looking at her as she mended his finger. “I didn’t expect to get hurt before our first date ended.”
“Oh, is this a date?”
He did not reply right away. Instead, he stared into her eyes and came a little closer. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured.
Sara said nothing, nor did she move away. She stayed there holding his gaze until his lips smacked on hers. At least he was good with his tongue. The swirls he went for sent shivers all over her body.
She missed this, having a mouth search for hers, feeling so intimate with another. It tingled that special spot in between her legs. With shame, she admitted she was attracted to this 23-year-old, full of himself, guy. Or perhaps there was something else she had been missing. Her poor vibrator had been used until ruin.
She put her arms around him and instinctively pressed her body on his. This was all he had been waiting for. His eager hands went to search for absolutely nothing all over her back. She allowed him to lead her up the stairs, to the bed, and to unzip her dress. Then to push her on the mattress and settle himself over her, his very enlarged self pressing on her hip through his trousers.
In between kisses she had lost count of how long it had been or when she, or was it he who undressed her fully. She became aware of herself only when he took off his shorts. Him, tearing with his teeth the packaging and sliding the condom on his nakedness, brought her to the present.
“Wait, this is all sorts of wrong,” she said, keeping Lucas at an arm’s distance.
He sighed and sat next to her, clearly disappointed. His eyes still lingered over her naked form. Sara felt ashamed and covered herself with her hands. Noticing this, he brought her the sheet.
“If you want, I can call you an Uber or something,” Lucas said, running his hand through that perfectly ruffled hair, his thing still as stiff as a pole.
“Why did you bring me here?” Sara asked the obvious question. What she did not expect was the answer.
“It felt right. At that moment, something felt right.”
His answer seemed sincere and resonated with a hidden chord within her. She turned his face her way and brought it closer. For the first time tonight, she kissed his lips. Putting aside the sheet, she laid on her back, spread her legs and received him. With youthful eagerness, he began grinding himself against her body.
This... This was what she missed. To have her hunger quenched by another’s hunger for her. To have something fill her up to feel whole again. To have a man’s body weight pin her down and bring some rest to her restlessness. She needed this. She enjoyed it until exhaustion and she was vocal enough to let him know.
The sweet fatigue, settling in after she released her passion, together with the tender manner in which he was holding her, allowed Sara to close her eyes for a second. When she opened them again the city skyline was bathed in the morning light. Lucas was softly purring near her ear. She tried to slip out of bed unnoticed but found his arm still wrapped around her waist.
He stirred awake and pulled her closer, nuzzling and kissing her neck. That was her special spot. She had no objection when he took her again that morning.
“What do you want for breakfast,” Lucas asked while she was still in the shower.
“I don’t eat breakfast.”
“Then let me buy you some coffee at least. This hotel brew is rubbish,” he requested, leaning on the bathroom door.
Sara offered him a bright smile, barely visible through the steamed shower glass. “I know a great coffee shop a couple of blocks away.” She did not feel out of place like she thought she would. In fact, she felt strangely satisfied.
Saturday morning was a busy time to be out for coffee. Sara was sitting outside, at the table they spied and hunted together, and watched Lucas through the coffee shop window. He was waiting his turn in the queue, fretting with impatience and making funny faces at her. How he could be immature in a funny way and alluring at the same time was a puzzle to her.
“I had to fight tooth and nail for these,” he placed the two small cups of italianos on the table. While he sat in his chair, with his locks shining under the morning sun, in his Burberry coat with raised collar and buckles, sipping leisurely from his coffee, he was the image of a wild boy, ripped out from a magazine cover.
“So, when are you gonna give me your phone number, or your Twitter handle, or something?” Lucas asked, blowing to warm up his hands.
Sara searched for a pen in her purse and took a napkin.
“I see. No phone bump. You are an old fashion girl,” he half-smirked.
Putting down her empty cup, Sara lifted from her seat and handed him the note. “I am sure if you need my phone number, you have your ways to get it.” She smiled and left him there with a simple goodbye.
Next Monday, before the end of a new day’s work, Lucas was waiting for her, patiently sitting on the armchair in the office reception.
The piles of paper lay around the study room as if they were ready to take flight. It was time for the young master to organize his quiet space and find a better spot to place his documents.
A gentle tap on the study room door that led to the corridor startled him. The young master rose from his stoop and said, "You may enter."
The sound of the elderly man's voice brought a smile to the young master's face. He always enjoyed listening to what his most trusted guide had to say.
"My Lord. There is a trio waiting to see you in the living area."
The butler cleared his throat and sighed as if to indicate that the young master better get a move on, quick. He watched the young Lord chuckle knowing full well that the butler would not be amused by his dilly-dallying.
As soon as the young master left the study room, the butler thought to himself, "Oh this young master would lose his head if it was not attached to his body!"
The young master strolled briskly to the living area. Once he was there he opened the doors wide leading to the living area and took a deep breath.
He spotted his best friend, with a young lady, and another unfamiliar person. His eyes quickly took note of his guests appearance.
His best friend was well-dressed in a suit and tie, looking so dapper. Then the lady was dressed in the latest classical fashion- her dress fit her figure well, his mind started to wish that he could be alone with her and get to explore every inch of her edges and every curve. The last one or man standing was a new face, but he was dressed in a much simpler and casual attire than the other two friendlier faces.
The young master smiled and walked closer to greet his guests. He charmed them and asked if they did not mind staying the night as it was getting closer to nightfall.
They all agreed and ended up dining at the grand home of the young lord. While the rest of the young master's guests all prepared to head to bed, he went back to his study room. This time he planted himself into his seat and pondered on how to make sure his guests, or rather the young lady, stayed a bit longer in his humble abode.
He grinned at the thought of just having the young lady stay behind. Come what may, he would woo her.
#DEVOTED (c) December 12, 2021. Sundae.
Huey and Violet (holiday fun)
A loud wet popping sound released from Prince Huey’s mouth as he got up from Violet. She watched, smiling as he giggled wickedly, biting and messily sucking on her boobs. He growled in naughty desire
Then, Huey massaged essential rose oil into Violet. The lovers intimately caressed each other with the oil, listening to their jazz playlist.
“I wanna try something new” Huey whispered, and he instructed Violet to turn around, propped up on some pillows.
Huey kissed Violet’s butt, sucking, nibbling, and licking each cheek. Spreading, he let a trail of his saliva run down, lubricating her for the toy. Then it was off to some naughty holiday fun with a candy cane shaped vibrator.
Violet was over the moon, her prince was doing such a great job. It was definitely not a silent night!
“Ooh!! Huey! Fuuuck. Oh yeah!”
“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me Vi?
And she did. Then, it was multiple rounds, until finally…
Violet was sprawled out on Prince Huey.
They kissed. “My thoughts exactly” Prince Huey agreed. They rested like this for a while. He softly kissed on her shoulder a few more times, and then he pointed to the window. “Oh look baby, it’s snowing!”
“How beautiful” Violet gazed at all the paper like snowflakes falling
“There’s nothing better than watching the magic of the holiday season with someone you love.” said Huey
They watched in silence for a little while
“Some hot chocolate would be perfect right about now” Huey continued
“And rule number 25 in the Junior Woodchucks guidebook says for you to make it, naked.” Huey grinned
Violet giggled as Prince Huey playfully nibbled her ear.
Huey watched Violet make rich hot chocolate, melting a chocolate bar into milk on the stove.
A rich hot chocolate was perfect for Prince Huey and Violet’s rich sex life!
“I love dating you baby” Prince Huey
told his love, while they enjoyed their cups of hot cocoa
“I love dating you too!”
Dewey and Jasmine
(Dewey Duck and my oc Jasmine)
Tonight, Jasmine and Dewey wrote new sexual fantasies for each other.
Her palms flat on his chest, Jasmine rides Prince Dewey. The pace is slow for a while, then husband and wife build up to a faster speed.
Sex. Oh, how much he loved and craved it with her. Dewey and Jasmine had been intimate, and frequently.
Prince Dewey gently tickles Jasmine’s boobs with a feather duster.
“Yeah? Is that soft?”
“After a few more feather strokes, his highness sucks her nipples, such divine pleasure.
“Oh, right there baby” Jasmine whispers
“Good girl” Dewey continues to suck and rub them a little while longer
“I love seeing all of you Jazzy. Completely butt naked, your body is from heaven, I just know it” Dewey whispers dirty romantic talk, as he always did to make sure Jasmine had the best, most comfortable penetration experience ever.
(After sex finishes)
Prince Dewey took a cherry from the wooden bowl on their nightstand, dipped it in chocolate, and fed Jasmine.
“Mmm” she moaned, indulging in the sweetness of the chocolate covered fruit. She also fed her Prince the same.
Prince Dewey naughtily bit down on the stem, then bit the cherry off and ate it suggestively.
Jasmine smiled, and their beaks met for another kiss
“Making love by a roaring fire,” Jasmine began, brushing her fingers along Dewey’s bare shoulder,
“Priceless” Dewey smiled, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion yet contentment
He gently glides his hand across the neck of the instrument’s body
Smiling at the way her body looks nicely polished and oiled in the moonlight
With a light, smooth vibrato, he listens to the change of her voice/sound that makes him close his eyes
Happy to soak the rich tones in.
One hand moves lower past her neck, and even lower near her cavity
He reaches there and plucks her strings gently
This makes her create an even more higher contralto tone
His nose brushes the bridge of her body
Soon his lips follow along every curve & edge of her whole body
The other side of the duet…
When I was young, and dating
I would Never take a date to
a movie but rather stroll
through the art institute
just to see what would catch
their eye or hear their thoughts
on a favorite piece of art
And ponder on their answers
Do they think like me?
If they don’t, can we get along
and discuss what we like about
the things that touch us
or inspire us or simply
what we call art…
When I was young, and dating
I would Never take a date to
places were we couldn’t talk but
rather stroll through the park
where we could talk about
things like hopes and dreams
or pains and sorrows…
And wonder if we have it in
us, to listen to one another
and hear the things that we
need, to help us grow and
simply lend a shoulder to
understand the things in our
lives that simply need caring
When I was young, and dating
I would be corny and sometimes
break into song, and sing a duet
simply because it was in my heart
and I would wait…and listen…
to see if I was with someone who
could pick up the other side of the duet…
and answer me in or out of tune
and be with me, and share time
with me in when life is low
or filled with happiness
and understand that I can be
just a nerd, with a song in
his heart, that simply needs…
Curtains pushed aside,
silver can be seen
blending with midnight.
Changes in the sky
a new beginning.
When I share my heart,
will it stop beating
or become stronger?
An exchange of whimsy
I bet you smile when you send those…
Those little pieces of your whimsy
in short bursts of carefully chosen
That captures the moment to
show how clever you really
are, and I bet as you read this,
you’ll smile, too
And as the night goes on
as we quickly reply
back and forth in our
The sleep finds us as
we wind down and the
of quick wit
falls into the
last good nights
with hopeful thoughts
and silent smiles
as we end our
echange of clever
Blue Rose (nsfw)
Dewey and my oc Jasmine, 2017 Ducktales
“I’m passionate for you baby” Dewey whispers. Then, he holds a blue rose between his teeth.
Jasmine giggles, allows Dewey to intimately caress her breasts with the buttery soft petals. They kiss, Dewey starting to kiss Jasmine’s feet as he removes her stilettos. We then see a shot of lingerie and boxers piling up on the floor
“Oh… god… jazzy”
The couple catch their breath after all their intercourse. Jasmine puts her hair behind and kisses Dewey’s bare chest. “I give it to you so amazing, don’t I baby?”
“Ohh yes.” Dewey responded joyfully. You fulfilled every pleasurable fantasy I had last night. You opened the entire ice cream store.
“That fits, because I got to lick your cone”
(Audience: Oww, ow!)
“Out of all our adventures, sex is my favorite” Jasmine strokes Dewey’s chest with two fingers.
“Me too. Going all the way is how you Dewey it”
Jasmine smiles and gives Dewey a longer kiss.
Jasmine and Dewey shower together
Up close on Jasmine’s face, “Ooh! I’m enjoying this baby”
“Oh goodness! Dewey fuck yeah!
Multiple rounds of sex.
Lustful and wet, fully naked sex
Dewey pushes in and out, steady and flowing into Jasmine.
Jasmine and her lover end up on the silver sofa this time.
“I love sex” Dewey whispers, grinning
Jasmine, all laid out on Prince Dewey, gives a happy sigh in agreement
Jasmine and Dewey work up appetites for blueberry pancakes,
Gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes between bites.
Jasmine swallows her morning after pill