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"My Demon Lover" A Sexy Short Story (For Halloween)
Greetings, and Happy Halloween! Whether you're a kid looking for free candy or someone just looking for an excuse to wear a sexy costume, this is your kind of holiday. To help get everyone in the spirit, I wrote a sexy short story. Enjoy!
The most revealing truths were often hidden blow foundations of lore and lies. That was an old saying from the world of demons, witches, and dark magic. From curious dabblers to full-fledged masters, the greatest truths about the dark forces that permeated every shadow came only to those willing to dig deep.
Victoria "Violet" Goodchild embodied that will better than most. For every hundred people who dared to explore the mystic arts, only could hope to uncover that such forces weren't just real. They could be channeled, summoned, and experienced in a very direct way.
"By the dust of Tartarus…the mists of Elysium…the shadows of Sheol…I summon from the realm of Eurynomos the name that frail maidens dare not speak."
Those desperate words, echoing with a lust and desire few embraced, echoed throughout the dank basement of Violet's unassuming home. She'd turned off all the lights. She'd locked the front, back, and emergency door from the inside. Anyone looking from the outside would've suspected that she just wasn't home. For someone like her, a troubled young woman who'd run away from home, it was to be expected.
She'd once been such a sweet, unassuming girl. She was the third of seven children by a preacher and a Sunday School teacher. She'd been surrounded by all the trappings of a strict, religious household. She was the last person anyone expected to delve into the sinister world of the dark arts.
However, Victoria – or Violet, which she'd been going by since high school – didn't just dip her toe into that world. She dove in head-first.
"Forces of the worlds unseen…the powers untapped…I summon the one to whom I gave my virginity. I summon the one to whom I've pledged my blood, my body, and my soul!"
The air throughout the basement became hot and muggy, a sudden shift from the cold and dank ambience it usually offered. The only light came from a series of 13 candles, which had been arranged in a circle atop a red rug that she'd stained with special emblems. Those small flames quickly intensified, as if the air itself had heard her calls and granted more fuel to the fire.
Violet could already sense someone approaching. She couldn't see, hear, or touch them, but she knew they were there. She'd felt it before. It both her heart and heated her inner thighs. Having already shed her clothes, her naked body covered only by a black robe, she'd no intention of being modest to the approaching presence.
As the air grew hotter, the emblems on the rug began glowing. Such spectacle defied the traditional laws of physics, but they were perfectly in line with the rule of dark magic. Like lights that had been plugged into a great source of power, they filled the room with reddish orange hue. Some of the symbols within the emblems even came to life, the various runes depicting mystical artifacts becoming flushed with power.
From a collection of those runes, a fiery vortex formed in the floor. It was like a hole in the fabric of reality, a crack in the barrier that separated her mundane world from that of magic.
"Yes! Come to me, my demon lover! Come to me, Sylenos!" Violet exclaimed, raising her arms and bathing in the swirling light.
For a moment, the entire basement felt like the worst part of a thunderstorm. A potent blend of wind and heat filled the room, blowing through her loose-fitting robe and brushing over her naked skin. It was as though the mystical forces she sought were caressing her body, teasing her with a bit of mystical foreplay. It further heightened her arousal and lust, ensuring she was prepared for the figure that emerged.
"My dear Violet," said a deep, demonic voice, "I hear your lecherous cries. I so missed them!"
From the swirling vortex, a being decidedly not of her world emerged. He had a very masculine appearance, over six-and-a-half feet tall with muscular sinews bulging from every inch of flesh. That flesh, however, did not have an entirely human appearance.
It was dark red, radiating a heat that seemed to make every candle burn brighter. There were also no goat legs or animal features. Those were artifacts of ancient fairy tales. Real demons could take many forms, but their most common was that of a human male, complete with functioning male body parts. That included a very large endowment that hung between his legs, one that quickly reacted to her appearance.
"Sylenos," Violet said, gazing at the demonic figure in awe, "welcome to my domain."
"Still so formal, I see," the demonic figure laughed. "After all our encounters, you insist on going through the motions."
"What can I say? I'm a traditionalist," she replied with a lurid undertone.
"Did I say I minded?"
Sylenos grinned in a way so befitting of a demon. It was often their most distinguishing trait, the way they captured the gaze of those who saw them. Even with the muscles of a body-builder and the endowment greater than that of any male ego, the face of a demon was their most terrifying and alluring feature.
Violet had seen it many times before. Sylenos' complexion was extra demonic, bearing fang-like teeth, an extra-rugged complexion, and horns on his forehead that complemented long, unkempt hair. However, it was his eyes that reflected the dark power within, having a deep purple hue that often glowed whenever she gazed into them. That penetrating gaze played a big part what inspired her nickname, Violet. It ended up inspiring much more, as well.
"I always look forward to this day," Sylenos said as he approached her, "October 31st, the night of All Hallows Eve."
"So do I," she said. "It's the one night were dark forces are celebrated, rather than feared."
"For someone like, isn't that redundant?"
"Only to the extent that it gives us an excuse to be together for the night," Violet quipped.
"That, and a rare alignment of mystical energies."
"Logistics disguised as semantics," she shrugged. "Please, my love, allow me to keep being formal."
The creature laughed again, but did not stop her when she dropped to one knee and bowed her head in a submissive gesture, as was customary for a demonic summoning. She then looked up, both his demonic gaze and his oversized penis looming over her. It was a simple ritual that felt so mundane, but one that reminded her of how far she'd ventured down her dark path.
When she'd first laid eyes on Sylenos, she was a virgin teenager who'd grown frustrated by a world of tradition and piety. She'd felt so trapped. Everyone and everything was so virtuous, idealizing restraint and purity. It was comfortable, but boring. It was, ironically enough, her own personal hell. Escaping it meant walking the opposite path of her peers.
"Sylenos," she said, her voice full of lust and reference, "creature of the dark realms, born of lust and desire made flesh."
"I never get tired of hearing that," he said, "although many of my demon brethren mock me for that."
Violet grinned, but her demeanor did not falter. She remained determined to affirm her connection to the creature before her, if only to remind herself why it mattered so much.
"You are the one I chose," Violet said, a touch of affection mixing in with her lust. "I offered myself to one who could sate that which I found insatiable. By the chaotic winds of fate, you chose me to. From that choice, we found each other."
It almost sounded romantic. To some extent, it was. One of the least known truths about demons had little to do with what they looked like and everything to do with what they embodied. It was for that very reason that Violet's basic lust evolved into a mature love.
The catalyst for that journey had been crude. At a young age, she discovered something about herself that would've been a minor quirk had she not grown up in such a devout community. She was very horny. Whether by fate or a quirk of biology, she was a very sexual woman with very powerful desires.
That put her in directly conflict with everyone in her community, including her parents. It only got worse when they caught her masturbating multiple times and flirting with boys. They tried lecturing her, praying for her, and sending her off to an all-girls school. None of it worked. She ran away the first chance she got.
If anything, the efforts of her family convinced her that a path of virtue and piety was not going to satisfy her desires. That was when she made the fateful choice to explore the opposite side of the holy spectrum. On that journey, she founded more than she'd ever expected. She liked to think she wasn't the only one, either.
"Are you done, my love?" said a bemused Sylenos.
"That's the last of the formality. I promise," she told him.
"Good," he said. "Then rise up. Don't stand before me like some mindless adherent. Stand as the unapologetic slut you know you are."
Laughing to herself at such blunt honesty, she rose back to her feet. Sylenos, still grinning, then grasped the sides of her robe.
"Take this dirty rag off," he said. "Show me the body we so lovingly forged together."
Violet gladly complied, letting the robe fall off to expose her nude form to the hulking creature in front of her. He then threw it across the room, as if to tell her that she didn't have to be modest in the presence of a demon. Given her voluptuous figure, she had nothing to be ashamed of.
Sylenos further demonstrated his admiration, grasping her hips with his powerful demonic hands and trailing them up to her breasts. Already aroused by anticipation, it sent hot shivers coursing through her body.
"Such beauty," Sylenos said with lecherous affection as he squeezed her fleshy orbs, "you have a face, breasts, and buttocks that would befell an angel."
"I'm sure that's the most popular pick-up line in the demon realm," Violet said, purring under his touch.
"Except, I'm a demon who means it," he told her. "We're not always honest, but we are always sincere when it comes to our desires…especially those we help make real."
The hulking figure drew her deeper into a daze of lust. As he kneaded her breasts with his hands, he leaned in closer and smothered her lips with his. His bulging muscles made contact with her naked flesh, turning lustful desires into burning needs.
Violet then let loose her own demonic passions, returning the kiss of her demon lover while trailing her hands over the rock-hard sinews of his hyper-masculine form. The feeling was not like kissing an ordinary man. Demon flesh was hotter. Demon flesh radiated a unique energy and strength. Some women couldn't handle it. Violet had learned to handle it better than most.
"My demon lover," she gasped as he hungrily groped her flesh.
"My mortal whore," Sylenos said, his eyes glowing brighter as their devious foreplay intensified.
He left no inch of her flesh untouched and no bit of her tongue untasted. Demons were creatures of indulgence, savoring every decadent delight to the utmost. Thanks to the price she had willingly paid years ago, Violet gave him plenty to savor.
When she first encountered Sylenos as a virgin teenager, she wasn't very attractive. That wasn't just due to poor self-image, either. She had average looks, at best. Her breasts were undersized, butt was flat, and her face wasn't exactly worthy of a magazine cover. For someone as horny as her, it was a frustrating situation, to say the least. That changed a simple deal born of selfish desire.
"Big breasts…firm buttocks…luscious lips," Sylenos seethed as he made out with her, "all mine for the taking!"
He wasn't entirely wrong. In fact, part of the reason Violet resorted to summoning demons is to make herself more attractive. Since running away, she'd encountered many attractive men that she wanted to sleep with. However, they didn't find her beautiful. Makeup and exercise only did so much. To get the allure she craved, she needed the touch of a demon.
That was what Sylenos gave her. Before she gave him her virginity, he cast a spell that radically changed her body into a figure that perfectly radiated beauty and sex appeal. It was the first time she'd felt genuinely sexy. After she gave herself to him, she reverted back briefly. However, he told her she could grow into that body, provided she adhered to their deal.
The details were many, but the results were everything she'd hoped for and then some. In just a few years, she became beautiful, attracting men of all kinds and seducing them with ease. Almost overnight, she could have any man she wanted and she wanted a lot. The acts of decadence she indulged in, thanks to her newfound looks, were too many to list.
However, she never strayed from the deal and Sylenos rewarded her accordingly. She liked to think she returned the favor beyond the price she'd paid. Over time, she came to see Halloween as the night where they enjoyed the bonuses that came along with that deal.
"Sylenos…take me," Violet told him, his hungry touching sending her lust into overdrive.
"Only if you beg," he replied with a devious leer. "You how much I love to hear your beg."
"Take me, my love!" she exclaimed without hesitation. "Fuck me! Ravage me! Fill my every hole with your demon cum!"
"Such a dirty mouth…spoken like a true slut."
"Not just any slut…your slut!"
That always set him off, her talking dirty while in his physical presence. At that moment, the seduction and foreplay ceased. Violet was officially pass the point of no return. She was going to get fucked by a demon.
Using his demonic strength, he lifted her up off the floor and laid her down in the center of the rug. The candles were still burning and the runes were still glowing. Her naked body now surrounded by light, Sylenos hovered over her in a way that gave her a perfect view of his throbbing demon cock.
Unlike ordinary dicks, a demon's cock needed no stimulation to get hard. It became fully erect with the same ease as flexing a muscle. At full arousal, Sylenos' cock had a length and girth that put most male porn stars to shame. It always tested the resilience of her womanly flesh, but Violet loved rising to the occasion.
"I'll give you what you desire, Violet," he told her.
"And I'll give you the same," she replied.
"Mmm…your confidence always astounds me!"
"It's not confidence, my love. It's certainly!"
Violet eagerly spread her legs, welcoming his dark flesh into her. Now seething with a lust worthy of a demon, the hulking figure accepted her invitation. He got on top of her, grasping her wrists and pinning them just above her head. Then, with his eyes glowing with the same radiance as the runes beneath them, he thrust his throbbing demon cock into her pussy.
"That dick…that big, demon dick…so deep inside me!" Violet exclaimed.
Sylenos replied only with a lecherous snarl before silencing her with his lips, his slithering tongue swirling around hers as he began fucking her with a fervor that rocked her world and that of demons.
His approach was simple, utilizing the basic missionary position that her pious upbringing glorified for husbands and wives. Sylenos took that standard sexual more and gave it a demonic twist, humping her with reckless abandon, pursuing only raw pleasure rather than holy duty. She was not a faithful housewife, submitting to her husband in hopes of producing more adherents. She was an unrepentant whore, seeking only to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.
"Violet…my sweet, sinful Violet," Sylenos said in between thrusts. "You make lust…so lovely."
Violet almost climaxed on the spot. Those intense words in that deep voice of his revealed so much of who she was. It was raw, unfiltered truth, not unlike the raw, unfiltered bliss that came with unrestrained sex.
Instead of restraint, she reveled in indulgence.
Instead of soul, she embraced flesh.
Instead of piety, she pursued hedonism.
That was the cold, hard truth. Violet had accepted that years ago. Whereas her family and friends shamed her, the world of demons encouraged her. Instead of revulsion, Sylenos was drawn to her sinful tendencies. With him, she could be herself. That brought out a pleasure that went beyond the multiple orgasms.
"Oohhh Sylenos!" she moaned. "My demon love…I'm coming! I'm coming!"
"Yes! Come…unrepentant whore!"
As if on command, Violet closed her eyes, curled her toes, and arched her back as a white-hot orgasm coursed through her body. Sylenos barely slowed down his relentless humping, still working his cock inside her tight folds. Every muscle in her lower body burned pleasure, washing over her like a wave crashing down on top of her.
It felt so good. All her life, she'd been led to believe that anything that felt that good had to be sinful. There was no way around that. By having sex with a demon, though, she spat in the face of all those laurels. It was her way of telling the mortal world that something so wrong could still feel right.
"Good whore," Sylenos grunted. "Now…I come too!"
Her body was still trembling, the inner muscles of her pussy still throbbing. There was no time to catch her breath, though. Her demon lover was going to climax too and that also carried a demonic twist.
"By the fires of Hades…yes!" he exclaimed.
Upon crossing that threshold, the hulking figure let out a roar that would've scared off an army of hungry grizzly bears. His eyes flashed bright red, his expression tensed with devious joy, and his bulging muscles throbbed as he released his demonic load into her pussy.
Demonic semen was not like that of an ordinary man. For one, there was a lot more of it, so much so that much of it spilled out of her depths. It was also extra potent, but not in the sense of traditional fertility. Old witchcraft texts once said that a demon's cum was the literal manifestation of sexual pleasure. When released inside a woman's body, it was like diving into an ocean of liquid ecstasy. It took an act that was already sinful in the eyes of many and turned it into something truly intoxicating.
Between that pleasure and the hot, demonic fluid now filling her pussy, Violet was utterly drunk on the unique euphoria that was demonic sex. However, even as Sylenos' face tensed with similar bliss, she saw in his eyes that he was far from satisfied. That made two of them.
"More…take me more," she said breathlessly.
"You dare challenge a demon in the realm of lust?" Sylenos teased.
"Yes! I dare."
Her tone left no room for ambiguity. As if to allay further concerns, she freed her arms from the demon's grip – no easy task, especially after an orgasm – and pulled the hulking figure into a kiss.
His horns didn't bother her. His teeth, complexion, and rock-hard flesh didn't bother her, either. By kissing him willingly, tangling her tongue with his, she sent a clear message. Sylenos hadn't just seduced her. She chose him as much as he chose her. She hadn't descended into a life of decadence and sex. She wanted it and Halloween was a chance to celebrate those desires.
"So daring," Sylenos said, sounding genuinely surprised. "You never cease to amaze me, Violet."
"Thank me by fucking me more," she replied. "Fuck me…like the demon I love."
"You love a demon…and everything that comes with it?"
"Let me prove it!"
Violet kissed him again, digging her nails into his crimson flesh, hooking her legs around his waist as his rigid cock remained deep inside her. Unlike men, demons didn't have a refractory period. Their dicks stayed hard for as long as they wanted. It allowed them to indulge as the creatures of darkness they were. It also allowed them to deliver when they consorted with mortals.
Sylenos delivered as well as anyone, using the newfound leverage to instigate another around of hard fucking. He shifted his grip to her butt, squeezing it firmly as he bounced her up and down his cock. The candles burned brighter and the runes in the floor flickered erratically, like a Halloween spectacle that gave light to their decadence. It seemed like a fitting celebration, one that reflected both the feeling she craved and the price she'd paid for it.
"What I want…what I sought…I paid to get it," she gasped as her body and world rocked once more, "I gladly accept it!"
The hulking creature responded with her proud proclamations with devilish delight. Unrestrained by mortal limits, Sylenos proceeded to ravage her in the light and spirit of Halloween. He held her up in her arms, bouncing her along his cock until she climaxed again. Shortly after that, he climaxed too, filling her pussy with more demon cum.
After that, he gave her lower body some needed rest and laid her on the floor again so that she was on her hands and knees. Then, he grabbed the sides of her face and shoved his cock into her mouth, face-fucking her with his oversized flesh. It tested and strained her jaw-muscles, but she could take it. The ecstasy was worth the strain. Something about that made her love for a demon so fitting.
He still didn't go easy on her. He kept humping her face until he climaxed again, shooting a thick load of cum right down her gullet. It was so hot, but sweet. It was like actually tasting an orgasm, filling her insides with hot pleasure that rendered her even more dazed. A lesser woman wouldn't have been able to handle it. She was more than that and she loved proving that, especially on Halloween.
"A sinner in this world," her demon lover said with a devious glint, "but an angel in mine."
Violet just smiled back, even as his cum dripped from her mouth. She barely had time to lick it up before he turned her around, keeping her on all fours, and guided his still-throbbing cock to her ass.
"One more hole to complete our celebration," he whispered seductively into her ear.
"I'm ready," she said without hesitation.
The young woman still braced herself as Sylenos thrust his cock into her. A sharp sting followed as he pierced her flesh, straining her lower body once more. The discomfort didn't bother her for a second. The pleasure that followed did plenty to wash over the pain, keeping her in a steady state of bliss.
More orgasms followed. Each time she climaxed, the runes in the carpet flashed brighter. The pleasure that coursed through her burned hotter. With each feeling, she recounted the price that she'd paid all those years ago.
When Sylenos first described it, he made it sound steep. By giving her beauty, sex, and pleasure, he also gave her an inescapable caveat. She could live her life as an attractive, sexual woman. She could attract all the willing lovers she wanted. However, she would only ever attract men who would not love her for who she was. They would only ever love her for what she did for them.
On top of that, her insatiable sexual appetite ensured no one man could satisfy her. Even multiple men at once couldn't satisfied her. She knew because she'd tried. It had been fun, but it still didn't suffice. The idea that she would live the rest of her life, unsatisfied and unbearably horny, seemed like a curse. However, one woman's curse was a demon's blessing.
"This is it. This is what I want…what I need," Violet found herself saying in her lecherous daze. "I can only ever fuck men. I can only love…a demon."
The myths of old often claimed demons were incapable of giving love or sharing it. Those stories were incomplete, at best. The truth that no nun or holy man ever dared admit was that demons and creatures of darkness could love. It just wasn't love as they understood it.
For them, love was a happy couple with a white picket fence, multiple kids, and a puppy. It wasn't two horny beings fucking endlessly in the night. To them, that was debauchery. To a demon, though, that was love in its purest form. As beings born of desire, the line between sensual and intimacy did not exist. Sylenos understood that as well as any demon. Violet simply embraced it.
"On this night…our love shines brightest!" the demon said, just before releasing another load into her ass.
"Our love…our lust…ohhh yes!" Violet cried out, having another orgasm as well.
She and Sylenos continued to indulge, fucking hard under the light of the ritual until the candles burned out. She didn't know how many orgasms she experience or how many loads her demon lover blew. She just knew that she was having a better Halloween than any woman could ever hope for.
Eventually, even demon lovers reached their limits. Once the candles grew short, the runes in the rug stopped glowing. Only the swirling vortex to the demon realm remained. Knowing he had to return, Violet kissed him one more time before their flesh finally parted. Sweat and fluids still covered her body, but Violet didn't care. It got the job done. More than anything else, she and her lover had celebrated Halloween as only they could.
"Sylenos…my beautiful demon," she said as she gazed into his glowing eyes as she lay on the floor, covered in sweat and cum, "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, Violet," Sylenos replied as he floated towards the vortex. "I promise you won't have to wait until another Halloween to know our love."
"Most women don't accept promises from a demon.
"You're right…except you're not most women."
Violet smiled at her demonic lover and he smiled back. In that moment, the line between lust and love blurred. The same line that separated mortal from demon blurred as well. Two realms with forces that opposed one another became connected. It was not the kind of love or affection that was glorified by tradition every day, but on Halloween night, she and her demon lover could turn the tables.
"Happy Halloween, my love," Violet said to him.
"For demons and whores alike," Sylenos said, "it is very happy Halloween indeed!"
Filed under Sexy Short Story
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"Dark Mistress" A Sexy Short Story (For Halloween)
The following is a sexy short story I wrote for Halloween that combines magic, witchcraft, and sex appeal. I believe it makes for an appropriate and festive piece. Hope this makes everyone's Halloween a little sexier. Enjoy!
"I need you tonight, my dark mistress," said an anxious, but determined Ron Shermfeld. "Please, don't make me wait longer than I have to."
The tone and intensity of that voice was completely foreign to anyone who knew Ron. By day, he carried himself as the kind of man who everyone graveled to, especially women. In high school and college, he was a star athlete with the body of an Olympian. As a young adult, he became a successful businessman with a reputation for toughness and intimidation. He never had to beg for anything from anyone. It was always the other way around.
On some nights, though, that all changed. On Halloween, such radical change took on a far greater meaning.
"Everyone wanted me at their party, tonight," Ron said to the locked door. "Old college buddies invited me to a frat house. They said there would be at least two dozen beautiful women there…every one of which would get naked for me on the spot if they know I won two national titles for the school eight years ago."
He must have sounded crazy, turning down a party like that. It didn't sound crazy to him. It just made him knock on the door even harder.
"I also turned down a party at my office," he said. "They wanted to put on this big, elaborate spectacle…one that involved me dressing up like a king and carrying me out on a makeshift throne. My senior VP of accounting – a guy who hasn't been to a party since grade school – said they were going to bow like servants. He even said I deserved nothing less after leading my company to record profits this past quarter."
That sounded even crazier. Ron had even seen the throne that the marketing people at his company put together. Telling them it wouldn't be necessary must have broken their hearts, but they didn't argue with him. Nobody argued with him. That was part of the problem.
"They all said I could have anyone and anything I wanted," Ron said. "One guy said I could fuck his wife and daughter if I wanted and he would thank me for it. I don't know if that's because he loves me that much or if he's just that scared of me. I never know for sure. That's why I need someone I don't doubt. That's why I need you!"
Ron leaned on the door, his usual strength failing him. It felt so strange, feeling so weak and timid. Those used to be such alien feelings for him. His older sisters once joked that he came out of the womb bigger and stronger than anyone. Blessed with a muscular stature, a strong work ethic, and uncanny charisma, he had a knack for influencing and dominating everyone around him.
He'd been so popular in school that women used to fight each other over who got to sleep with him first. He'd been so skilled as an athlete that his own coaches became intimidated by him. He thought starting a business after college would be a challenge. It turned out to be way too easy. Wherever he exerted himself, people bent over backwards for him. They never stood up to him or contested him. Success came so easy to Ron that it barely felt like he was trying.
His world became so mundane. Everything seemed so predictable. There was nothing greater to strive for, no force he couldn't overcome or person he couldn't dominate. Then, she entered his life and revealed a world completely different from the one he dominated.
"Dark mistress," he said, now begging like a child, "can you hear me?"
"I can hear you fine, my loyal minion," replied a voice from the other side of the door. "I've been listening for the past fifteen minutes. The sound of your submissive tone just gets me so wet."
A wave of relief came over Ron, but only briefly. His dark mistress was nearby. She was so close he could smell that lilac-scented perfume she always wore. However, on Halloween night, just smelling her was hardly enough. A powerful witch demanded more from him.
"Ella Bloodleaf," Ron said under his breath. "I can feel your power on me. I'm here for you."
He put both hands on the door that separated him from the woman whose touch he craved. It felt more like a mountain than a simple entrance to a penthouse apartment atop an affluent complex in the heart of the city. It was only a fifteen minute drive from his office, but it might as well have been an ocean. That was how powerful Ella's hold on him was and it went beyond her skills in witchcraft.
His dark mistress wasn't a witch in the tradition of fairy tales and ghost stories. She wasn't even a witch in the mold of the New Age, pseudo-spiritual crowd. Ella Bloodleaf was the kind of which who occupied a vast, but hidden world of magic, spirit, and power. It wasn't some fantasy or gimmick. It was real. Magic existed in his world and witches were its most skilled wielders.
Only a select few knew of such secrets. Even fewer accepted how real it was. Ron was one of the select few and Ella was his anchor to that world.
"It's Halloween," she said through the closed door. "Do you know what that means?"
"I do, dark mistress," Ron replied.
"The stars are aligned. The mood of countless souls is heightened. The primordial forces that penetrate our world are at their most intense. Are you strong enough to handle them?"
"I am," he said without hesitation. "For you, I'm as strong as I need to be."
For a brief moment, his strength mixed with his desperation. That must have been the intent his mistress had been looking for because she finally unlocked the door. When it opened, he finally saw her. His beautiful dark mistress stood before her in all her macabre glory.
She was no old hag from an outdated fairy tale. Ella had the body of a goddess and the poise that could intimidate the devil. She never hesitated to show off her otherworldly beauty, either. Her skin was pale, but perfectly smooth, as if polished by nature. She wore ruby-red lipstick, which perfectly complemented her emerald green eyes. Ron swore her gaze could render even the most powerful men paralyzed in awe. It reflected both her beauty and the magic within.
She'd even dispensed with her usual garb, wearing only a thin lingerie that was almost entirely transplant. Ron could clearly see her ample breasts and luscious curves. He could even see the revealing thong she wore underneath, which already appeared soaked with arousal.
"My beautiful dark mistress," he said as he entered the approached her.
"Remain where you are!" Ella said sternly. "You're in my domain, dear minion. That means I'm in command."
"Of course, dark mistress," Ron said with perfect obedience.
Like a reflex, he stood frozen just a few feet from the front door to her penthouse. There was no secluded cottage or dark cave. Real witches lived in opulent, but private surroundings. A penthouse atop an expensive urban condominium definitely qualified. It was like entering a palace dedicated to Ella's power and he was just a lowly peasant.
For a moment, he just stood there, still as a statue while his mistress leaned against her kitchen counter, not at all hiding her revealing attire and her aroused state. Then, in a show of her power, she waved her hand and the door slammed shut. It was a simple act for a witch, but one that sent a powerful message.
She could make the impossible happen. She could bend the rules of reality to her whim. More specifically, she could bend him to her whims. She was just that powerful, but her power went beyond the realm of magic.
"There's an old saying among practicing witches," she said to him as she trailed her hand up her shapely thighs. "The greatest source of magic is through sheer force of will, but the intensity of that magic depends on others believing it exists. To re-shape the world, you must first believe you can. Even then, only a handful believe strongly enough."
"I believe in you, dark mistress," Ron told her.
"I know you do. That means my dominion is dependent on reaffirming that belief. On Halloween, when so many dare to belief, I can do so much more than just wield great magic."
She spoke with the kind of a seductive certainty that had initially attracted him to her. There allure to such certainty. It went beyond mere confidence. Ron dealt with confident people all the time, but Ella took it a million steps further.
"For centuries, witches covens had to balance wielding magic with fostering belief in it," Ella went on. "Magic is at the heart of our power, but magic requires belief. It's not enough to just show someone it's possible to turn an onion into a precious gem. By seeing it, they no longer need to believe. Only a select few can bear witness to magic and continue believing in it."
"And I'm one of them," Ron said.
"That you are, my handsome minion. That you are," she said with even more seduction.
She cast him a smile equally befitting of an angel and a demon. She then approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders and letting that body of hers press up against his. Even through his Armani suit, he felt the unique energy radiating from her body. Only a skilled and powerful witch could exude such energy. That aura affected him more than most.
He remained paralyzed in her presence, completely and willingly subdued by her power. He could barely breathe as she gazed at him with that devious, yet affectionate glance. Her beauty, sexiness, and touch could captivate any man with a shred of desire, but his dark mistress enchanted him in a very special way.
"That's exactly why Halloween is such an important night for us," his dark mistress went on. "On this night, people dare to believe in the power of the macabre. Every practicing witch makes it a point to channel that belief into something greater…something that allows them stronger dominion over the forces that hide in the shadows."
"That's why I came to you," Ron said. "I am under your dominion. Your strength is my fulfillment."
"Spoken like a man who has come to appreciate the benefits of a witch's domineering touch," she said curtly.
"It's not just appreciation, dark mistress. Every day of my life, others cater to my every whim. I am without bound or limits. I want…I need limits to keep myself anchored."
"That's not all you needed, my minion. Tonight, in the spirit of Halloween, I intend to remind you why submission in a witch's domain unleashes our freest passions!"
There was that certainty again. It left him breathless, his legs trembling in her presence. He might have been a former athlete who stood nearly a foot taller than Ella Bloodleaf, but within her embrace, she might as well have been a titan.
His paralyzed state reflected his submission.
His submission also reflected his belief.
From that belief, Ella's power intensified. Her eyes began glowing, the magic that many failed to believe manifesting before him. That power made the air around them feel hotter, as though the flames of the underworld were raging outside. It effectively locked Ron into her domain. She could demand anything from him and, as her loyal minion, he must obey her.
"I can feel it already," his dark mistress seethed as her grip on him intensified, "the spirit of Halloween…the belief in magic, spirits, and darkness."
"I feel it too, dark mistress," Ron said. "Your power…it still amazes me."
"Then, it's time I put it to use!"
With a devious glint in her eye, Ella casually tapped the collar of his neatly-tailored dress shirt. In another act of magic, coupled with his dominion over him, his clothes removed themselves from his body.
It was like being caught in a storm with no shelter. First, his tie undid itself and flew off. His blazer jacket quickly followed. Then, his shirt unbuttoned itself and an invisible hand pulled it off. As the spectacle unfolded, a still grinning Ella lightly tapped his belt buckle with her finger. Like his shirt, it too came to life like a scene out of a fairy tale. However, there story that unfolded was not fit for children.
The same invisible forces that took off his shirt made quick work of his pants, underwear, and overpriced dress shoes, rendering him completely naked. He soon stood before his dark mistress, the muscular physique that often intimidated others completely vulnerable to her power. Ron wasn't used to such vulnerability, but that was exactly why he found it so exciting.
"So much strength and power," she said with devious admiration. "No wonder others find you so intimidating. I bet women look at you and cower like dogs…dogs that go into heat quite readily."
"They do…too readily, at times," Ron said.
"That's because they're not witches. They may acknowledge their baser instincts, but they rarely embrace them…let alone augment them with magic."
There was no subtlety to her tone. Her devious smile widened as she approached him again, her eyes lecherously drifting up and down his masculine features. She let her scantily-clad form press up against his naked flesh, her touch sending shivers of intimate energy coursing through his body. It was more than enough to send his blood flowing in all the right directions.
Despite his arousal and his temptation to touch her flesh, Ron remained dead still. That gave his dark mistress free reign. With it, she hungrily pawed chest, trailing her fingers over his manly sinews. Between his submission and her dominating power, she became very aroused.
"It's one thing to simply act on the whims of natural forces," Ella said, her polished nails trailing over his arms. "It's quite another to augment them…to take a simple act and enhance it through will. That requires one willing to dominate and one just as willing to submit."
"I am willing, dark mistress," he said without reservation. "I hope I've made that clear in the brief time we've been together."
"You've done plenty, my loyal minion," she said, "but never on Halloween. Tonight, you will know the true breadth of a witch's power!"
Her voice shook the walls. Her touch became firmer. Ron swore she could knock him out with her pinkie finger. His dark mistress just exuded that much strength. In another life, his first instinct was to match it. Instead, he felt inclined to submit to it.
Her eyes still glowing with the magic of a skilled witch, she grabbed him by the wrist and led him into the master bedroom of the opulent penthouse. Ella didn't have the size or muscle mass he did, but her grip had the strength of a charging bull. Her will, her power, and her dark allure made her a force that demanded subordination.
Even the star athlete in him struggled to keep up as she used her magic to open the doors to the bedroom. In doing so, his dark mistress revealed a setup that put every other Halloween celebration to same.
"Wow," Ron gasped.
"Keep moving!" his dark mistress demanded.
Ron barely had time to admire the ambience. All the windows had been blacked out. All the lights had been covered. The only source of illumination were several dozen candles, each arranged in a series of patterns throughout the room. They didn't look like the kind sold at a craft store. They gave of a light that seemed to illuminate the hidden power within. It was like shining a light on the magical world his dark mistress had revealed to him.
In addition to the candles, the king-sized bed that usually stood in the room had been replaced with a large altar covered in a red blanket. Upon that blanket, he saw a series of elaborate symbols etched in the fabric. He'd recognized those symbols from his previous unions with Ella, but he'd never seen them glow with such intensity.
"Lie down," she demanded.
Ron did as she asked without hesitation. He climbed onto the altar and laid flat on his back, his naked body illuminated under the steady glow of the surrounding candles. Before he could even get comfortable, she waved her hand and several restraints floated up from a nearby table.
"Hold still," his dark mistress told him.
Again, he wordlessly complied. He remained perfectly still as the restraints, guided by magic, fastened themselves around his wrists and ankles. Then, after another wave of her hand, they attached themselves to the altar, leaving him completely restrained and even more at her mercy.
That feeling, being completely under the whim of his dark mistress, gave Ron a rush that he so rarely felt. Being so weak and vulnerable, not able to impose his will on anyone or anything, was so alien. He'd just give himself over to someone in a way that rendered all his natural strengths and talents moot. It was scary, but also liberating in a strange way.
"You are now bound by a witch's will," Ella told him. "You submit to me, freely and willingly. You believe in my power. Tell me you believe!"
"I believe, dark mistress. I truly, honestly believe," Ron said, conveying total submission through his voice.
For a moment, she just stood still at the side of the altar. Her eyes stopped glowing and she looked down on him with folded arms, as if to judge him the way any goddess would when faced with a mortal soul. He laid before her, unflinching in his submission to her, conveying the extent of his belief with his eyes.
Finally, she leered over him so that her alluring, yet devious face was the only thing he saw.
"You speak the truth, both with your words and your actions," she told him. "A strong man so willing and eager to submit to a greater power…that is a rare, but beautiful feat. The fates tend reward such submission and witches have always been their greatest patrons…especially on nights like this."
She briefly leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were so close that he could taste their sinister sweetness in the air. At the last second, though, she pulled back. It was tortuous, but Ron voiced no dismay. He just watched as his dark mistress made her way to the foot of the altar.
"I can already feel the energy from the night. It's so intense. I intend to tap it, but doing so means maximizing my domination over one who freely submits."
From where she stood, Ella closed her eyes and began chanting a string of incantations. She was casting a spell. Ron had seen her do it before. It often made for quite a spectacle. However, he had a feeling that what he was about to see would top them all.
The flames on the candles flared up, as though they'd been doused with gasoline. The whole room briefly became as hot as a sauna. At the same time, the area under the altar began glowing, the energy from an unseen realm seeping through the fabric of reality. It was like touching the impossible. Whereas most would be inclined to run, Ron had already submitted to it. He felt it flowing around and through him. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
"I submit…freely," he said amidst the display.
Ella continued chanting. Within intense glow, she levitated into the air, casting off the shackles of gravity as though they were nothing. As she ascended, the thin cloak that she'd been wearing fell off, leaving her only in her revealing black thong. Her perfect breasts, polished skin, and alluring aura was illuminated by the mystical feat. Her goddess-like beauty now had the power to go along with it.
"My dark mistress," Ron said with divine admiration.
She stopped chanting, but remained in mid-air. Her eyes glowed bright red and she narrowed her gaze on him, her body now surrounded in a fiery halo. She had such intensity radiating from her flesh, more so than he had ever seen before. Either the spirit of Halloween was just that potent or she was even hornier than he thought. It was probably a combination of both.
"By the spirits and gods…the veil of darkness is lifted!" Ella proclaimed. "In the name of All Hallows Eve, I seize this power for myself and my willing minion!"
The light under the altar steadied.
The flames from the candles settled into a steady glow.
The energy halo surrounding his dark mistress swirled a bit longer, but eventually converged within her like metal to a magnet. After absorbing the energy, she had the poise of someone who could slay an army of angels and demons. However, rather than wage war, she directed her focus onto him.
Her eyes stopped glowing, but the look of raw exhilaration never waned. She then lowered onto the altar, as if carried by the air around her. As soon as she landed, an unseen force ripped her thong off, torn to shreds as if it had been caught in a tornado. Now standing above him in all her naked glory, Ella epitomized the ultimate power and beauty of a witch. He was so lucky to call her his mistress.
"Such power. Such grace," Ron said with the utmost awe.
"Silence, minion!" she said, her voice booming like thunder. "It's time to complete the ritual!"
Knowing what that entailed, Ron could only brace himself for the onslaught to come. Bound and entranced, his fate now lay in the hands of his dominating dark mistress.
She wasted no time in wielding it. Making use of the magic she'd just tapped, she knelt down onto the altar and took his semi-erect dick in both hands. Then, in gesture so seductive that a lesser man would've fainted, she tapped the tip of his member with her tongue. Immediately, he felt the effect.
"Ohhhh, dark mistress!" Ron gasped.
In defiance of basic male biology, his penis grew and stiffened into a state that put even the most endowed men to shame. It was like someone had hooked a super-charger to his sex drive. His member was so hard that he felt like he could cut stone with it.
That was the power of a witch's magic.
That was the reward of willing submission to his dark mistress.
"My minion…you are now imbued with the ability to embrace the ecstasy of darkness," she told him, licking her lips while still stroking his cock. "Prepare to push your mind, body, and soul to its limits. Pursuing such ecstasy can be…overwhelming."
"For you, dark mistress…I will endure," Ron said to her.
"You'd better. It is not wise to leave a witch unsatisfied…especially on Halloween."
She gave him little time to gather himself. Empowered and aroused to the utmost, his dark mistress had a lust in her eyes that defied measure. He was now the target of a witch's most fervent desires. Ron honestly couldn't think of a better way to spend Halloween.
Like a predator pouncing on a mountain of prey, Ella got on top of him and straddled his waist, aligning his throbbing-hard dick with her dripping-wet pussy. She then grabbed onto his torso, her grip feeling like the claws of a demon, as if to reaffirm the extent of her hold on him. From there, through a single downward thrust of her hips, she drove his flesh up into her.
"Yes!" Ella exclaimed. "I feel it…power through flesh…magic through feeling!"
"Dark Mistress," Ron gasped, "I feel it too."
"Quiet, minion!" she spat. "You will say nothing while I indulge in the darkness!"
Ron fell silent again. His only speech from that point forward was through grunts and moans of bliss. Through the power wielded by his dark mistress, there promised to be plenty, so long as he continued submitting.
From his bound state, he watched his beautiful mistress ravage him as only a powerful witch could. She rode his cock hard, bouncing and gyrating her hips with such fervor, working her wet folds along the length of his rigid manhood. Every motion brought hot ecstasy, but every sensations felt supplemented by the same unseen power that had filled the room.
It was magic at its most potent, channeled through flesh and desire. Ella just gave it form and substance, guiding the energies and the dazzling displays they conjured every step of the way. As she rode him, the light under the altar pulsated like beacon, illuminating her naked body in every exquisite detail. Other swirling lights danced around her like miniature fireworks, further adding to the spectacle.
It turned ideas of beauty, sex, and pleasure into something real, making tangible concepts out of intangible ideas. It was something Ron could not dominate. Only through submission to his mistress could he experience such wonder. Even as he lay bound, bare, and at the mercy of a powerful witch riding his cock, he'd never felt so free.
"Oh yes! Ohhh yes!" his dark mistress exclaimed. "Praise the darkness! Praise the spirits! Praise the union of magic and flesh!"
Her echoed throughout the room, silencing any and all distractions that might have undermined the ritual. It ensured that every bit of Ron's attention remained focused on his dark mistress and the ecstasy she'd conjured. She wasn't just the center of his world. She was his world.
He continued grunting and moaning as his mistresses fucked him at a ravenous pace, riding his cock so hard that it tested his ability to process such feelings. His body ached for a release, literally and figuratively, but he understood how such rituals work. To submit to his dark mistress also meant trusting her to grant him that release accordingly. A witch's dominion over their minions was that extensive.
However, a good mistress and a good minion knew how to control orgasmic feats fairly and with the utmost skill. Having tasted the fruits of Ella Bloodleaf's skill before, Ron had complete trust in his dark mistress. He'd just never tasted them on Halloween before.
"My minion…I'm close," his dark mistress said amidst her relentless riding. "Your mistress…is about to come. Tell me…you want me to come!"
"I want you…to come," Ron said, his words strained by so many overwhelming feelings.
"Louder! Say it louder!" she demanded.
"I want you to come!" he yelled out.
"Say it again!"
"I want you to come, dark mistress!"
"I WANT YOU TO COME!"
At that point, every muscle in his body was near its limits. His dick burned with hot pleasure, throbbing desperately for an overdue climax. However, it could not happen until his dark mistress came first.
She did not make it easy for him. In the swirling light of the magical spectacle, he could tell in her devious expression that she was drawing it out, remaining emerged in her utter domination over him and the pleasure it brought. He could also tell she wanted to taste the fruits of that pleasure too. Eventually, her dominating desires caught up with his submissive needs.
"OHHH YES! I'M COMING!" Ella Bloodleaf exclaimed.
In a moment that caused every candle in the room to flare up again, his dark mistress raked her nails down his torso and threw her head back in an orgasmic frenzy. Her inner muscles throbbed, her skin became hot, and expression matched that of every angel in heaven while every demon in Hell watched with envy. While the magic provided the catalyst, his dark mistress provided the guidance.
It marked the culmination of a ritual born from his submission and her dominion. The walls and altar shuddered in wake of her cries, like thunder shattering the air. Another halo of light surrounded her naked body, erupting like a volcano finally bursting its top. It was a beautiful sight that was only compounded by his own badly-needed release.
"My dark mistress," was all he could get out as the feeling hit.
While Ella's orgasm made for such a dazzling display, his was every bit as spectacular. His expression tensed and every muscle in his lower body burned, but he never once diverted his gaze from his dark mistress. He moaned as his member tensed inside the throbbing depths of his dark mistress, his manly fluids mixing with her feminine juices. It was its own magical conjuring, turning a powerful feeling into something real.
Sex, desire, passion, magic, darkness, submission, and domination all came together. Everything beautiful and devious manifested in that one moment. On Halloween night, it felt so appropriate.
"Mmm…praise the spirits," Ella said, her body still writhing in orgasmic bliss.
"And praise, my dark mistress," Ron said.
"Did I give you permission to speak?"
"Forgive me."
"I'll grant you mercy…for a price."
That price proved more than fair. Even as the halo of energy swirled around her, she leaned over and gave him a deep kiss. Finally, Ron got to taste the flesh of his beautiful, merciful mistress of darkness. On a night when decadence, darkness, and sweet tastes were everywhere, it couldn't have been more satisfying.
The kiss ended. The orgasmic onslaught settled. His dark mistress remained hovering over him, her domineering yet affectionate grin never waning. She perfectly embodied the spirit of a witch. She wielded great power to pursue greater experiences. Ron believed in that power and in her. By submitting to it, he got to experience it too.
"Happy Halloween, my loyal minion," Ella said to him.
"Happy Halloween, my dark mistress," he replied.
"You've satisfied a powerful witch. That's quite a feat…one I intend to reward for the rest of the night!"
Tagged as adult fiction, adult stories, End of Summer, erotic, erotic fiction, erotic literature, erotic stories, erotic story, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica literature, erotica romance, erotica stories, halloween, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, kinky, kinky sex, Labor Day, love, love story, married couple, romance, romance story, romantic story, sex, sexual kinks, sexy, sexy fiction, sexy halloween, sexy literature, sexy short stories, Sexy Short Story, Sexy Witch, short fiction, short stories, short story, Witch, Witchcraft
"Mystery Stud" A (Kinky) Sexy Short Story
The following is a sexy short story I wrote that demonstrates how a blindfold can be a catalyst for something kinky. Enjoy!
"Are you ready for this Marilyn?" asked Connie Chambers in her ever-coy tone.
"Ready, nervous, and excited as hell!" Marilyn Raven replied, trying hard not to sound like an overly-energetic little school girl.
"I'd ask if you're sure, but you sound so giddy I'll just skip the part where I act like your over-bearing friend."
"I appreciate that. Now shut up and put the damn blindfold on me."
Marilyn – or Mari, as her friends called her – didn't usually bark orders like that. In fact, she was the kind of girl most described as friendly and soft-spoken, but a little more uptight than most women her age. Few would've guessed she had such a kinky side. Even fewer knew how much she loved to exercise it. Connie was among those select few and, on top of being her best friend since grade school, she had similar kinks. She even encouraged them.
"Okay, you horny slut," Connie said, not yet matching her excitement. "I just hope you appreciate what we've had to go through to set this up."
"Just shut up and blindfold me," Mari retorted. "I'll appreciate when I'm less horny."
"Fair enough," she laughed.
Connie, standing behind her in a cramped bathroom with poor lighting, placed the blindfold over her eyes. It was brand new, having purchased it less than six hours ago from their favorite sex shop where they were on a first-name basis with the owner. It was soft and silky, the kind meant to be comfortable for hours of continued wear. It spoke the extent of Mari's sexual tastes that she'd put so much thought into something so simple.
She wasn't surprised, though, and neither was Connie. They had been partners in kink, as they called it. They'd been helping each other explore their sexual appetites since they discovered how much they loved sex, which had been shortly after Mari realized how good she looked on a thong. What she had planned tonight was not the craziest thing she'd ever tried, but it had the potential to be something special.
"Make sure it's comfortable," Mari told her. "I don't want it coming off before all is said and done."
"Don't worry," Connie assured her. "You're talking to a certified bondage queen, remember? I know all about making sure things are snug."
Mari snickered, trusting her friend and focusing entirely on the latest sexcapade before her. It was part of the dynamic that she and Connie had developed. While Connie was usually the first to do something daring and new, Mari prided herself on her ability to refine it. That skill was exactly what had led them to a private sex club on a Thursday night in the middle of winter.
She'd planned it out a week ago. The club, itself, wasn't that big. It was a bondage club that had been converted from an old bar. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary night club. It was in the exclusive areas upstairs where all the magic happened. That was where the dungeons, the hot tubs, and the bungalows were located. Everything from orgies to role playing to even wedding ceremonies had been known to occur behind the blacked-out windows.
Mari had set everything up ahead of time, reserving one of the smaller bungalows on the third floor that was typically used for BDSM and role playing. It contained a large bed with bondage accessories, including whips, handcuffs, and ropes. She wasn't yet sure how much use those tools would get. If all went well, they wouldn't be necessary.
"I'm trusting you to do a lot more than put on a blindfold," Mari reminded her. "Trust is kind of a big theme for this."
"No need to remind me," Connie said, still standing behind her. "It always is with these sorts of things."
"What I'm about to do, though…it's going to be a hell of a test. Trust anybody this much, let alone a total stranger, is really pushing the kinkiness factor…even for me."
"That's part of the appeal," her friend reminded her, "and rest assured, I intend to make it as hot as possible."
She spoke in that deep, sensual tone again. Mari knew that tone well. It was the same tone Connie used when she had phone sex with her boyfriend. She only ever used it when she was either in the mood or really confident.
With the blindfold secure, the most critical step was complete. Her world now pitch-black, Mari could already feel the excitement growing. However, it was only the beginning.
"Time to get this show started!" Connie said. "Ditch the clothes, but leave the underwear."
Mari couldn't strip fast enough, slipping out of the fancy blue dress she'd bought last weekend and kicking off her heels. That left her only in a black lace thong with a matching push-up bra. She'd chosen attire that was easy to get out of and sent the right message. She was in the mood to get fucked, but she wanted to do it her way.
"You always had great tastes in thongs," said Connie.
"Think it'll get the job done?" Mari teased.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Her friend, now sharing her excitement, grabbed her arm and led her out of the bathroom. Mari followed closely, already feeling the plush carpet of the bungalow on her bare feet.
"Follow me," Connie said. "From here on you, you keep your mouth shut unless you're having an orgasm. Understand?"
"I understand," Mari said, expecting those to be the last words she uttered for a while.
"Good! Then, lie down the bed, hold still for a bit, and wait for the magic to happen."
Mari did as her friend asked, unable to stop herself smiling. It felt strange, given what she was about to do. A less adventurous, more prudish woman would've been fearful. Mari was not like that, though. She was different. She embraced the craziness that often came with her sex life.
With Connie's help, she laid down in the center of the bed in the corner of the bungalow. She hadn't used the room before and that was on purpose. She wanted everything to be unfamiliar, from the location to the types of sheets it used. Just feeling the plush, silky linens on her half-naked body was enticing. That was a promising sign in her book.
"I'll be right back with your mystery stud," Connie whispered into her ear. "Don't you dare take that blindfold off. Just wait and the fun will come to you."
Mari just nodded, taking deep breaths of anticipation as she laid still on the bed. She could feel the air around her getting hotter. Either the air conditioning was poor or she was just that horny. Whatever the case, she hoped she didn't have to wait for too long.
Everything was silent for a while. She couldn't even hear the music and chatter going on in other rooms, which was rare for the club on a Thursday night. She'd seen plenty of people crowding the bar downstairs. There were people there. She just didn't know which one of them would be satisfying her tonight. That, in and of itself, was thrilling.
Being blindfolded, eager, and horny, time really slowed down for a while. On top of the soft, comfortable bed, she had little with which to occupy herself. Given how horny she felt, she fought the urge to just reach into her panties and masturbate. She managed to exercise restraint, but she could only last so long.
She couldn't have been alone for more than a few minutes, but it still felt too long. For all she knew, it was on purpose. It was Connie's way of building up the moment. If that was her tactic, it was cruel. If it worked, though, she would forgive her.
Finally, she heard the door to the room open and close. The sound, alone, made her tense with a mix of anxiety and arousal. She already heard footsteps approaching her. Then, she heard it.
"I'm here," said a deep, masculine voice.
Mari's heart skipped a beat. That voice, alone, conjured an image in her mind that added to her horniness. She immediately pictured a big, strong man standing in front of the bed, his every muscle bulging with testosterone. She also pictured a big, powerful dick hanging between his legs…a dick that she longed to feel inside her.
"Wow," the voice said. "You're even more beautiful than Connie described. She's a woman of her word…and I intend to deliver as well."
Her inner thighs moistened at that promise. The heat around her only intensified as she felt a figure crawl onto the bed with him. That proved the air conditioning in the club was working fine. It also affirmed that the man wanted her.
"I'd introduce myself," he went on, "but Connie specifically told me not to give you my name. She doesn't even want me to use a fake name. It's not all about what she wants, though. It's what you want, isn't it?"
Mari trembled at the sound of that strong, masculine voice. She could only muster a nod, already feeling the warmth of his body near hers. She longed for his touch, but fought the urge to just jump him on the spot. She needed to trust in him and her plan.
"In order to do that, though, I need to do things my way," he said. "That involves you trusting me completely. Do that from and we'll both get what we want. You have my word."
It was the most daunting part of her fantasy, placing implicit trust in a man she didn't know and hadn't even seen. Everything about their kinky situation related to trust. There was an inherent danger to it, making herself so vulnerable. There was also an immense thrill to it, one that helped fuel her desire.
Once again, Mari just nodded. She didn't even attempt to reach out and touch the figure before her. If she was going to trust someone to such an extreme, then she was going to go all out.
"Good," the man said. "Now, raise your arms over your head. I'm going to tie them to the headboard. Don't worry. I'll use soft rope."
Mari did as he requested without hesitation, having already committed to the fantasy. She raised her arms up over her head. Moments later, she felt a soft rope wrap around her right wrist. Based on how quickly the man tied the knot, he had done it before. He was no stranger to bondage. He knew what he was doing. That inspired a bit more trust, as well as more arousal.
She remained still and vulnerable as the man tied her other hand. Before she knew it, her arms were perfectly secure above her head, rendering her completely vulnerable to the mystery stud in bed with her. Her heart was already pounding in her chest. She had no idea what the man was going to do to her or whether she could handle it. That feeling – a total lack of knowing an assurance, leaving her at the mercy of a stranger – evoked in her a special kind of excitement.
"So beautiful," the man said, "tied up, blindfolded, and submissive."
As he said those words, he caressed her face and trailed his hands down her body. Those hands were so hard, yet so warm. They felt like the kind of hands that threw bricks around for fun and built monuments. They radiated with the same intense manliness of his voice. Naturally, when those hands passed over her hips and chest, she shuddered with arousal.
"Your skin is so smooth and soft," he went on. "Why don't we get you out of that undersized underwear?"
Mari just smiled and purred softly, sending a seductive message that her mystery stud received loud and clear. Showing more eagerness, he swiftly unclasped her bra and removed her panties, leaving her completely naked. The feeling of hot air over her exposed breasts and inner thighs sent shivers down her spine, albeit the best possible kind.
"Such nice breasts," the man said, "and such hard nipples, too. This is really turning you on, isn't it?"
Before she could break her promised silence, he grasped her breasts with both hands, giving her nipples a light pinch in the process. Mari let out a high-pitched moan, her excitement echoing throughout the room. That further encouraged the man, who trailed one hand down between her legs where the heat from her pussy had reached maximum intensity.
"So hot and wet," he said in a humored tone. "Guess that answers my question. That'll make this next part easier."
The mystery stud removed his hands from her breasts and pussy, leaving her untouched for a brief moment. That moment didn't last long, though. Before she could linger too long in her bound state, she felt something brush along her chest and torso. It wasn't a hand or a finger, either. It was a penis. Mari knew enough about human anatomy to know what a penis felt like on her flesh.
"You feel that?" the man told her. "Do you feel how hard I am?"
No answer was necessary. She clearly felt the intricate details of his stiff, rigid member on her naked skin. She also felt the bed shift as he got on top of her and slid his dick between her breasts, using his hands to mash them together to create a tighter fit.
Mari purred at the feeling. Connie most have told her she liked tit-fucking. Given the size and shape of her breasts, she was better-equipped for it than most women. It often went a long way towards getting a man in the mood and in her current state, it gave her a sense of how endowed the man really was.
As he playfully pumped his manhood between her breasts, Mari got an intricate feel for his size, shape, and firmness. She was already imagining what it would feel like inside her. Not being able to see it or hold it in her hands, she only had her imagination…her naughty, kinky imagination.
"I want to fuck you so much, right now," the man said intently. "Seeing you here, all naked and bound…I want it so bad."
Her mystery stud was getting impatient, sounding like a volcano of lust ready to blow its top. Mari wanted so bad to just tell him to do her like he wanted, but she refused to break her silence. That was still part of her fantasy.
She still had other ways of communicating her need, though. To show how much she wanted it too, she gave the tip of his dick a hard lick every time it neared her lips. It was a small feeling, but one that sent a clear message.
"You want it too," he said. "You want it as much as I do."
Mari just gave his dick another lick and grinned. She didn't nod or moan. She wanted to build the anticipation in her mystery stud as much as he had with her. That ended up working faster than expected because he soon removed his cock from between her breasts.
"Then, to hell with dragging it out!" the mystery stud said. "I'm going to fuck you now. I'm going to make you come. Then, I'm going to come. It's going to be fucking amazing!"
There was so much certainty in his words. Mari had heard that sort of thing from men before, but it always came off as overly-macho confidence. Whoever her mystery stud was, he was beyond confidence. He clearly had a kink for control, which was probably why Connie chose him. Control allowed him to be certain. With her bound, blindfolded, and silent, he could exercise that certainty.
"Spread your legs," he ordered.
Mari eagerly complied, already breathing heavily as she felt him re-position himself on the bed. She could feel his figure between her legs as he gripped her thighs and held them apart. He was even bigger than she'd imagined. In her mind, she pictured a hulking hunk of masculine flesh in bed with her. That mental image, along with everything else he'd done to her so far, made her crave his sex like never before.
"Here it comes," the mystery stud told in that deep, intense tone of his.
Almost immediately, Mari felt it. In one targeted motion, the man thrust his cock into her pussy. He filled her moist depths even better than she'd imagined. Letting out a deep moan, she roughly clung to the ropes that had bound her wrists and took in the feeling.
It was so sudden, not being able to see it happen and only being able to react. She could've spent hours bracing for it and she still wouldn't have been prepared. Being blindfolded and bound meant she had no clue as to how intense their sex was going to get, but that was exactly how she wanted it. She'd entrusted her mystery stud to give her everything and he went to work rewarding that trust with the kind of hot, vigorous sex that Mari so loved.
"Ohhh yeah!" the man grunted. "So tight and wet…I love it!"
His every word echoed with lust, which he directed entirely onto her. With their flesh entwined, her mystery stud began humping her with reckless abandon. He made good use of his control over her, really putting his legs and back into it, working his rigid manhood inside her tight folds. Such rigor allowed him to get in deep, stimulating those areas inside her that were so hard to reach, even with a capable lover.
The entire bed rocked and so did Mari's world. She moaned and gasped every step of the way, letting herself get extra loud. She clung harder to the ropes restraining her wrists, as though she would fly off without them. It went beyond the basic pleasures of hot sex. It was thrilling, being bound, blindfolded, and fucked by a man she couldn't see or control in any way. Her mystery stud was in control, dominating her like no man had.
He even demonstrated he knew how to make use of that dominance. As he maintained the intense pace of their sex, he released his grip on one of her thighs and used his thumb to rub her clitoris. The man must have paid attention to the women he dominated because that accelerated her path to orgasm. It came rushing towards her so fast, like an oncoming tidal wave that got closer with each passing second.
"Ohhh!" was all Mari could get out.
"You're coming," her mystery stud grunted. "I know you are. I want you to. Here…come for me!"
Whether by the extent of his control over her or sheer coincidence, Mari's body reacted as though he had just flipped a switch. That wave of sensation hit her hard, sending her into a blissful frenzy. She curled her toes, arched her back, and let out a cry of euphoria that left her ears ringing. She was so animated with her climax that her mystery stud had to slow down the pace of their sex.
"Damn!" he said. "You're one…kinky…woman!"
Mari just shot him a beaming smile, which encouraged him to hump faster again. Still immersed in a world of ecstasy, she embraced that kink that was now so obvious. She'd exercised plenty of fantasies before, but none had been that effective. It was good to know for future lovers.
For now, though, she focused on the mystery stud before her. Mari remained in her blissful daze as the man kept exercising his control, making a hard push for his own taste of ecstasy. He hitched her legs up over his shoulder, shifted his grip to her breasts, and worked his cock into her with more focus. Like a man on a mission, he pushed himself to achieve what he craved.
"Now…it's my turn," he grunted. "I'm ready! I'm going to…come!"
He put a little extra force behind his last round of thrusts. That seemed to do the trick. When he finally crossed that threshold, gave her breasts a hard squeeze and let out an extra deep grunt as he climaxed.
It must have been pretty intense for him, as well. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her pussy, radiating with the same orgasmic ecstasy she had felt. The way his muscles felt on her body, his sweat mixing with hers under his powerful grasp, just radiated with so much sensual feeling. His control over her and her submission helped compound that feeling, making for the kind of sex that was both kinky and satisfying.
"Wow," he said. "That was…wow."
Still dazed from her climax, Mari just focused on catching her breath while her mystery stud lingered in their intimate entanglement for a while. Eventually, he withdrew from her and released her from his grasp. He even undid the ropes, but Mari still didn't dare remove her blindfold or reach out to embrace the man.
Even though the sex was finished, orgasms and all, the fantasy wasn't over. To maintain the power of that fantasy, she could never know what her mystery stud looked like. It was somewhat frustrating, not knowing who just gave her such great sex. That was part of what made it meaningful, though.
"Thank you, Mari," her mystery stud whispered into her ear. "You're a wonderful, kinky experience…one I won't soon forget."
Then, in an act that seemed out of place after such an elaborate sex act, he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before leaving the bungalow. It was an odd notion, a man who loved to fuck hard and dominate his lover, offering such an affectionate gesture. Mari still gladly accepted it. If nothing else, it completed the mental image of the mystery stud who'd just given her such great sex. That, more than anything, made the fantasy feel truly complete.
Tagged as adult fiction, adult stories, End of Summer, erotic, erotic fiction, erotic literature, erotic stories, erotic story, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica literature, erotica romance, erotica stories, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, kinky, kinky sex, Labor Day, love, love story, married couple, romance, romance story, romantic story, sex, sexual kinks, sexy, sexy fiction, sexy literature, sexy short stories, Sexy Short Story, short fiction, short stories, short story
"Summer's Last Gasp" A Sexy Short Story (At The End Of Summer)
The following is a sexy short story I wrote about the last days of summer. For some, it's a bittersweet time of year. For others, it's a necessary evolution of seasons. This story tries to capture both in a loving, sexy sort of way. Enjoy!
Summer Reya wasn't used to warm weather going away. She'd grown up a tropical climate where a "chilly day" was anything under 60 degrees or made wearing flip-flops uncomfortable. Then, three critical events changed her life.
First, she got a scholarship to a major university up north. That was a big deal for her and her family. Neither of her parents had gone to college and she was the first of three siblings to attend. The move was supposed to be temporary. Then, the second critical event happened.
She got an internship that turned into a career. While in school, she started working for an up-and-coming biotech company. That company grew quickly and before she graduated, they offered her a full-time position, complete with benefits and a fat salary. Summer still remembered gasping in disbelief when she saw her first paycheck.
That kept her up north a little longer. Eventually, she still wanted to move back home. Then, the final – and, by every measure, the most critical – event happened. She fell in love. That effectively changed her plans for good.
"I can already feel it," Summer said distantly as she admired the setting sun in the distance. "The extra chill in the air…the lack of humidity at this time of day…even the smell of the wind."
"Are you telling me you can actually smell winter?" said a humored, but loving voice. "For some people, that counts as a super-power."
"There's nothing powerful about it. It's just one part of my life reminding me of another…the past affecting me in the present."
"Does it make you feel homesick?"
"It used to," she conceded, "but then I met you."
With a smile that could've warmed any climate, she turned towards the figure who had done so much to keep her warm. Unlike her, Christopher Bennet was used to the cold weather. He'd spent most of his life up north, enduring harsh winters and never using sub-zero temperatures as excuses. Bearing a thick beard, a rugged complexion, and broad muscles that he'd forged working at rock quarries, he looked like a man who could handle harsh conditions.
That was just one of the many things that had attracted her to him. She'd met Chris in college. In fact, during the first major snowstorm she'd endured, he came by and shoved the driveway of the crowded townhouse she'd shared with three other women. Seeing him brave that storm in nothing but a sweat-shirt while she wore three layers to stay warm impressed her. That one impression led to so much more.
"You don't have to worry, Summer. You know I'll keep you warm this winter," Chris told her as he tightened his embrace on her.
"You always do," she said as she ran her hands through that thick beard of his, "even though I don't make it easy for you."
"I don't mind the challenge. You help keep me on my toes. I need that in my line of work."
"A guy who works in a quarry needs a woman who works in a climate-controlled office…there's just something so fitting about that."
"I know. You know how to endure the heat. I know how to handle the cold. But together…we find a way."
He smiled back at her before kissing her softly. Summer gladly returned the gesture. At the same time, a sharp gust of wind blew over them. It was the coldest gust she'd felt since March. It was as though nature itself was warning her that she was going to need her husband's ability to keep her warm for the next several months. It was one of those warnings that she didn't mind heeding.
Sitting in his lap, straddling his waist atop a picnic blanket, Chris imparted plenty of warmth and not just in terms of body heat. They had taken a trip to the top of an isolated hill that overlooked the small pond at the north end of their neighborhood. It was one of those places that most people didn't know was there, which made it even more special to them. From it, they could see the sunset, the trees, and the lights from the downtown area in the distance.
She and Chris had discovered it on their third date. Since then, they'd made it a point to visit their secret hilltop, as they called it, on the last weekend of summer. It signaled the end of days where they could just lounge around in swimsuits and shorts. In the weeks to come, she would have to break out the sweaters, sweatshirts, and jackets that she never had to wear back home. It was bittersweet, but Chris made it worthwhile.
In addition, their little end-of-summer picnic had another important tradition that she was eager to get to. Based on the way Chris felt her up as he kissed her, he shared in that eagerness. Wearing only flip-flops, jean shorts, and an under-sized T-shirt – her preferred attire for hot, muggy weather – it didn't take long before a different kind of heat consumed them.
"Speaking of finding a way," Summer said, their lips parting while they remained in a tight embrace, "I think we've got one more heat wave to enjoy before I pack away my bikinis."
"I love the way you think, Summer," Chris said with a grin.
"It's going to get cold tomorrow…the first of many," she said.
"I saw the weather forecast too. I know how it works in these parts. We're in for a long winter."
"Which is why we should make this the hottest night of the year," she said seductively, already trailing her fingers through his messy hair. "If it's going to be the last one, I want to make it count!"
"And we will," he replied, matching her seductive undertone. "That's why before that sun sets, I'm going to make love to you in a way that'll keep us warm until next spring!"
"Is that a promise, my love?"
"I don't make promises, Summer. I just tell the woman I love what I'm going to do. Then, I do it!"
There was such certainty and intent in his words. Chris was not the kind of man to make bold promises that he didn't meet. He said what he meant and meant what he said. No matter the weather, he didn't let it change his intent, even when it came to making love to her.
Like a man on a mission, he began doing as he said he would. He kissed her passionately, his tongue quickly becoming entwined with hers in an outburst of passion. As he tasted her lips, he laid her down on the oversized picnic blanket, shoving aside the cooler and lunch bags. Summer, her arms and legs still wrapped around his imposing form, soaked up the warmth of his love. With the sun setting fast and the summer warmth already fading, there was a growing sense of urgency.
With the energy of two horny teenagers on prom night, she and Chris made out atop the picnic blanket. They kissed and touched with such intensity, his hands roaming freely up her womanly curves while hers slipped under that dirty T-shirt of his to feel those masculine sinews. With that intensity came heat and before long, clothing became a burden.
"Off!" Summer gasped as her love kissed down her neck. "Please, Chris…get these clothes off!"
Without saying a word, her husband stripped her naked on the spot. He wasn't playful about it, either. He swiftly pulled her shirt off over her head, undid her bra with ease, and pulled her shorts down her legs, panties and all. The feeling of the cool, evening air grazing over her naked skin sent shivers throughout her body, contrasting with the heat they'd created. Those shivers didn't last long, though.
As soon as he tossed her shorts and underwear aside, Chris shed his clothes rapidly. He didn't even care that he threw his shirt into a patch of mud near the blanket. Nothing was going to keep him from capturing the last bit of summer heat.
"Feeling chilly?" he teased.
"A little," Summer quipped coyly.
"I can tell," he said, giving her hardened nipples a slight pinch. "Don't worry. Things are about to get hot…very, very hot."
He laid down on top of her, naked skin pressing against naked skin. He kissed down her neck as well, evoking a light gasp as intimate touch triggered intimate sensations of all kinds. Again, Summer embraced him with her arms and legs. Without the burden of clothes, her breasts pressed up against his chest, her nailed raked along his bare back, and his growing manhood rubbed up against the heat building between her inner thighs.
From there, their outdoor make-out session evolved into full-blown foreplay. Chris rubbed her breasts, squeezed her butt, and slithered his tongue around her face and lips. Summer returned the favor, running her fingers through his hair and whispering words of lurid passion into his ear.
"I want you, Chris," she told him in her most seductive voice. "I want you inside me…that big, hard cock inside my hot, wet pussy. I want you to fill me with your sex…and your love."
Summer felt his manhood stiffen faster. Chris had always been fond of dirty talk. She just what to say and how to say it get his blood flowing in the right direction. As he neared full arousal, he stepped up their foreplay, working his hands over her exposed flesh and allowing the weight of his body to press against her.
It was like wearing a blanket of warm, manly flesh. Even with a chill in the air, it still felt like a muggy day at the beach, especially between her legs. It was a powerful feeling, her husband making out with her in a naked heap. Something about it – being outside in the elements, feeling the shifting winds of the season, and warming one another with their passions – triggered an arousal within her hotter than any approaching winter.
"Are you ready to really heat things up?" Chris whispered, his member now fully erect and pressing against her inner thighs.
"Yes!" Summer said without hesitation. "I'm ready, Chris. Please…make me feel hot."
Already covered in a light sweat, she braced for more heat as her lover ignited the final proverbial spark.
Shifting his grip to her thighs, he rose up slightly and positioned himself between her legs. Then, with his masculine body glowing in the light of the sunset, he entered her. Almost immediately, Summer felt a surge of hot sensations.
"Hot enough, yet?" Chris said in a husky tone.
"Ooh, yes!" she moaned.
"Good," he said, "but I'm not convinced."
Spoken like a dedicated worker/lover, he began making love to her at a fervent pace. He dug his knees and feet into the ground, giving himself extra leverage as he worked his hips with power and passion. In and out, his manhood slithered inside her, hot flesh embracing hot flesh. The end result was equally hot sensations that mirrored their shared desire for one last heat wave before winter.
She moaned in delight as those desires were realized. She did not mute herself in the slightest, her cries of passion echoing into the twilight. She knew how much Chris loved to hear her moan during sex. They motivated him even more, inspiring the kind of determined grunts that radiated with strength and vigor.
"Chris…ohhh Chris!" Summer exclaimed. "I feel it…so hard… so hot!"
"That's…what I want," he gasped in between grunts. "I want…to make you…hot."
"You are! You make me…so hot!"
That heated proclamation took on a literal and figurative sense. She could already feel the sweat from his body mixing with hers, the results of their heated lovemaking taking a very tangible form. She could also feel an orgasm coming strong.
When it hit, there was no warning. Summer rarely had to tell her lover when she was on the brink of orgasm. She made it exceedingly obvious in other ways.
"Oohhh fuck yes!" she cried out.
In an instant, that warm feeling she and Chris had created with their love became a burning ecstasy that shot through her body like a wave on a tropical beach. For Summer, having spent much of her life on those beaches, it was extra satisfying. Beyond the raw pleasure, though, there was more to the feeling. Between the picturesque setting and the prospect of limited heat over the winter, the moment was extra meaningful.
"Yeah…I'd say that's hot enough," Chris said.
Had she not been immersed in pure euphoria, Summer would've laughed. For a brief moment, the winds, the birds, and the bugs were all temporarily muted as she soaked in the feeling. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and she squeezed her bouncing breasts, creating the kind of spectacle that always gave Chris pause, even in the midst of passion.
Even in her blissful daze, he leaned in and kissed her. His naked, sweaty body now on top of her once more, the flesh kept that passionate heat going. The air around them felt as warm and muggy as a sunny day in July. In that moment, it felt like summer again.
"God, you're beautiful," Chris told her. "No matter how hot or cold it is…you never cease to astound me, Summer."
"Speak for yourself, my darling," she replied. "I swear you can make the coldest winter feel like a trip to the beach."
"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents," he teased.
"And I'm a woman who loves to nurture that talent," she quipped, "and in case you haven't noticed…the sun hasn't fully set."
"Believe me, I noticed!"
Grinning playfully, they kissed again and the lovemaking resumed. If that evening was going to be their last taste of summer heat – literally, to a large extent – then they might as well enjoy every last second of it.
Since her husband had been so dedicated to warming her body and spirit, Summer decided to return the favor. His rigid member still inside her throbbing folds, she grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him over so that she was on top of him. From there, she began riding his cock, quickly re-establishing the same vigorous rhythm he'd so passionately demonstrated with her.
"From now…until the sun disappears," she said, "we keep making love!"
"That a…challenge?" said Chris, already panting heavily.
"No, my love…a promise!"
She sealed that promise with another kiss. He sealed it too by wrapping her in his arms again, holding their naked bodies close as they danced the lover's dance together in the diminishing twilight.
From there, a fresh round of heat surrounded them. More hot sensations followed, supplemented by a steady progression of moans and gasps that echoed throughout the surrounding woods. There was nothing fancy or theatric about their lovemaking. It was just the kind of raw, directed passion that could shelter any lovers from the approaching cold.
If the goal was to just keep the fire going and work up more sweat, then they definitely succeeded. Guided by love and a shared desire to sustain the heat, they pushed the limits of their stamina, sexual and otherwise.
After riding his cock for a good long while, they just rolled around atop the blanket, going at it from various positions. They didn't get too elaborate. Summer didn't have to test any of her old gymnastic skills. There was a common theme to it, though. Every position was one that maximized body contact, ensuring naked skin rubbed against naked skin. Friction made heat. Heat made more sweat. Together, it made for hotter sex.
It led to more orgasms along the way, complete with more proclamations of ecstasy that stirred the surrounding wildlife. Summer swore the trees trembled as she and Chris rocked the area with their lovemaking. It was as though their passions were fueled by the last gasp of the summer season, the energy flowing into their naked bodies and guiding them through one last round of heat.
"Chris…my warmth…my love," Summer gasped through the intimate daze.
"Summer…my favorite time of the year!" Chris replied with a beaming smile.
She smiled back and kissed him again, pushing her physical limits to keep the passion going. Chris stayed with her every step of the way, showing off the stamina that had made for so many hot nights. It was a testament to his dedication, doing what he had to do to keep the heat flowing and deliver to her what he promised.
Keeping that promise soon took on a greater sense of urgency. Summer could see the sun was just about to set over the horizon. The final light of the season was about to disappear. That gave them a small window with which to make that moment count. She was on the brink of another orgasm. For the final push, though, she wanted her lover to share it.
"Chris, I…I'm close again," Summer told him.
"Me too, Summer," Chris said through labored grunts. "I…I'm so close!"
"Please…come with me. In one more taste of summer…let's come together."
As she said those desperate words, he caressed her face while she clung to his neck, holding on for one last rush of summer heat. Their eyes locked, the glimmer of the sun fading fast, they pushed their bodies and souls to that special threshold. It was like the end of a journey, but one they could only finish together.
When they finally crossed that line, she and Chris let out a shared cry of ecstasy. A wave of warm, unabated pleasure consumed their sweat-covered bodies in harmonious release of passion. She threw her head back while he buried his face in her neck, the sounds of their love mixing with the gusts.
For a brief moment, time stood still. It was like the entire season of summer had stopped just to tell her and Chris goodbye. From her position, Summer could see the sun disappear over the horizon one last time. With her lover in her arms, his embrace keeping her so warm, she smiled at the fading twilight. As much as she loved the warm weather, she had no doubt she and Chris could endure any winter.
With the sun now set, she and Chris collapsed atop the blanket. Their bodies parted, but they remained in each other's embrace, lying side-by-side and absorbing the lingering warmth of their passion. Together, they had forged a special warmth through the rhythm of love and sex. It felt like a fitting celebration for the final days of summer.
"I love you, Chris," she said to him.
"I love you too, Summer," he told her.
"Thank you for keeping me warm. Thank you for making every day feel like summer!"
Tagged as adult fiction, adult stories, End of Summer, erotic, erotic fiction, erotic literature, erotic stories, erotic story, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica literature, erotica romance, erotica stories, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, Labor Day, love, love story, married couple, romance, romance story, romantic story, sex, sexy, sexy fiction, sexy literature, sexy short stories, Sexy Short Story, short fiction, short stories, short story, summer
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Child of Orcus
The Escort and the Gigolo
The Final Communion
The Secrets of Sadfur Island
Passion Relapse
Rescued Hearts
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