Asrai Devin

Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.” ― Sylvia Plath

January 15, 2018
by asrai
1 Comment

More than Friends: Lazy Afternoon

If you are new to the story you will want to go back to the beginning.



Sunday afternoon, I hold Chloe while she naps. I want to take her back to my apartment, to wrap her in a soft warm blanket and keep her happy and fed and tired from the pleasure of orgasms. Watching her fall apart from my fingers or lips or dick is my new favorite pastime.

This weekend has been an immersive class in her body. I’ve studiously noted how my touch affects her. The way she sighs when I skim her lower back; the way she grunts when I brush her clit lightly; the way she moans when I pinch her nipples. And so much more about her pleasure points and what she dislikes.

But loving her is as natural as breathing. I’ve loved her all along. I need her like I need sunshine and rain and color. She makes everything better and brighter. Before this weekend I never recognized it. If I hadn’t stumbled on her as Cinnamon would I have realized?

I want to drink her kisses like water, to feast on her words like candy, to attend her voice like a concert for my favorite band. She’s everything in my world and it’s like riding the rollercoaster of Cloud Nine all the way to ecstasy.

Sherry who?

I close my eyes and try to rest, but my heart races alongside my thoughts. Where are we going? She’s never been one to be vulnerable or tender. She protects her heart and mind with a tiger’s mouth, warning growls if anyone makes sudden movements, and I’ve seen teeth marks from those who got too close.

Tigers are only big cats however, and susceptible to belly rubs and scratches behind the ears as any other animal. Our friendship may have let me closer than anyone else. Now I have to remain vigilant and look as harmless as a kitten until she trusts me with her dreams.

I realize all those nights I was crying in her arms, she rarely talked about herself. I love her, but I’m not sure I know her. I’ve told her about my parents, married for thirty-five years.  I assume she has parents, but no concrete details. We’ve talked about our college days, she mentioned dropping out after her first year. The road to arts major was paved with high student loans and few job prospects, so she switched to learning to run an office, which was less glamorous but had a guaranteed job at the end. But she’s never shared her dreams. Does she dream of running her company? Or would she rather settle down and get married, raise children behind a white picket fence, while trading recipes with the neighbours and running the PTA?

Perhaps the lack of details is just her caring nature and those nights being selfish. I will fix that in the coming weeks. I will woo her mind as I have done her body. Learn what she likes, who she is, and what she dreams. I will explore what she wants for the future and discover if we can build it like the third little pig, working together, brick by brick.

She’s so beautiful laying beside me. Her hair spread across the pillow, her lashes resting on her soft skin.

I kiss her cheek and she stirs, her hand coming up to push me away. I catch her grasping fingers and rub my lips over her knuckles. She sighs and settles again.

I want to wake her up with my mouth between her legs, but she must be getting sore and I don’t want her to think I only want her body. I want all of her, mind, body, soul. I want to love her, know her, fuck her.

She snuggles closer to me and I close my eyes. I rest my hand on her watching the rise and fall of her belly as she finds respite from her worries and my physical demands. Is she worried? What goes on in her head? Instead of another round of thoughts I match my breathing to her pattern and drift off.

When I wake, it’s filled with intense pleasure. Fuck, her mouth is wrapped around my dick, already hard.

I settle my hand on the back of her head and scratch her scalp. She lifts her head. “I hope this is okay.”

Okay? Being woke with a blow job is beyond okay. I cough to clear my throat as she looks at me anxiously. “It’s pretty fucking great.” I curl my fingers into her hair.

She bends to her self-imposed task: mouth fucking my dick. My body gets tighter inside, racing for orgasm, despite having so damn many with her. I use my grip on her hair to pull her away.

Since Friday night, I have fucked her every way I can think of and a few I hadn’t considered. We’ve cuddled, watched television, ate Chinese food, and she did a cam show while I went to my apartment to shower and change clothing.

This is our final few hours in our bubble. She will want to talk and I don’t have answers.

“I don’t want to orgasm alone. I want you coming with me.” I pull her hair until she stops.

She throws one leg over me and straddles my lap. With both hands she strokes my cock.

“Cinnamon, please baby.”

She grins at me.

“Chloe.” I am desperate for her. She could break me. But she takes me inside, she moves around me. Like a fantasy, like my dreams, like paradise.

A buzzing makes my attention stutter. It comes from her body and hums through mine. After a moment, I realize it’s a vibrator she pressed between her legs.

She arches her back as she fucks me, taking us higher. “I’m going to come,” she sings.

My body clenches. “I’m right there with you, angel.”

Her feet twitch, her thighs quiver, her arms shake. She’s lost in her pleasure, her moans echoing, but she never stops moving. I hold her hips, slamming into her until our bliss melds like our bodies, becoming one moment of perfection.

I sit up and kiss her, wrap my arms around her, and pull her down with me. I cradle her against me.

“That was the best wake up I’ve ever had,” I whisper. I want to leave. I want to end on a high note and nothing will be better than this moment.

Every bubble has to burst. She pulls back and there are tears in her eyes. I kiss her cheeks and hold her while she cries. When she’s done I take her to the shower and wash away her tears.

We dress quietly. “Let’s go out, find something to eat, and play tourist,” I say. I can’t stay in this apartment knowing this day will end and I have to return to reality. My apartment, work tomorrow, the rest of our lives.

I want to say I love you, but it’s not enough to describe how I feel.

“Thank you,” she says, kissing my cheek.

“For what?”

“For not asking questions.”

About her tears. There were no questions to ask, I feel the same. I cradle her head and kiss her softly. “There was nothing to ask.”

I take her hand and we walk outside together.

A couple hours later, I park at her apartment. I kiss her again. “I’ll see you during your show.”

She turns to me. “No. We can’t do that anymore. You can’t pay me for my shows. We are involved. I’m not taking money for sex from my boyfriend.” She tips her chin up.

“Then pretend it’s not me. I don’t think your income should suffer just because I accidentally found your show.” I lean back.

“Not happening, Taylor. That’s not how our relationship is going to work.”

She sets her mouth in a firm line, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn’t say it but her eyes say “fuck you.”

I put my hands up. “Take some time to consider it.”

She looks out at the building for the blink of my eye, then back at me.. “Okay, considered. Can you agree to my terms? I’m not a fucking charity case. I don’t need you to take care of me. Okay?”

I open my mouth, then close it.

She pushes her door open. “Take some time to consider it.”

Before I can answer, she gets out of the car. I think about following her, but she’s too upset. Following will feel like pushing and she’ll blow up. Rightly so. She needs space.

I watch until she’s inside then drive home. I send her a goodnight text and she responds with the same.

The bubble didn’t just burst. It exploded in my face.

Masturbation Monday Love. Week 176.  <<— Click for more sexy

January 13, 2018
by asrai

Interspiration 2018 #2

A collection of links I found inspiring, arousing, or interesting. #soss on Twitter for more great sexy links.

All links are NSFW unless otherwise stated. I tweeted a lot more but I forgot to put them in the blog post as I scheduled them so I hope the links work, my eyes are burning and I’m hoping to masturbate before I sleep.

First My new book It’s Complicated is out. It’s full of sex, drugs and kinky fuckery. And a little rock and roll. 4


The husband and wife.


The Mistresses Mistress via

A little alone time is good for everyone ;) via

Temperature play. *shiver* via

I need someone to warm me up like this. Pretty much daily would be okay. 🙂 I live in Canada. via


What it’s like being a nude art model. nice pics here too!

How to fall in love slowly.

The best sex toys of 2017

This is safe for all ages and a really cute story and i want to play D&D with someone.



This is perpetually stuck in my head so #you’re welcome.


January 12, 2018
by asrai

It’s Complicated

Jake Boyd has a successful real estate business, a beautiful wife, and the biggest house. Everything a man could want. Until his spoiled wife leaves him from his competitor. Then Jake’s out for vengeance, and Jessi is the only one within his reach.
Jessi Taylor has been partying at her stepdad’s expense for years. She’s shocked when he shows up to drag her home to work for him. In hopes of him reinstating her allowance, she defies his demands. Only to find he’s not giving in, he meant it when he said he’d spank her. It should infuriate her but it only arouses her, and she pushes boundaries searching for another taste of pain.
Jake finds his stepdaughter is intelligent, charming, and she could be the best salesperson he’s seen. And spanking her brought his dead libido back to life. He should be counting the days until she’s out of his house, but he only wants more of her.
Can Jessi be his happily ever after or will his ex-wife ruin everything again?
Content warning: drug use, alcohol, a fuckton of swearing, spanking, and other forms of kinky fuckery. 

Chapter 1


Jessi threw her head back as she rode through the orgasm. Her white-gold waves brushed her shoulders, she waved her head enjoying the feeling. She moaned loudly as pleasure tore through her. Dylan grabbed her hips as she melted, and thrust into her until he came.

She threw herself on the bed next to him. Without looking, she grabbed the pipe off the side table. She rolled to her back. “You want another hit?”

When he didn’t answer, she sat up against the headboard and grabbed the lighter. Dylan pushed his shaggy brown curls out of his glazed over eyes. “Give me a minute, love.” At least it sounded like that. Between how fucking high she was and the orgasm, she was a little fuzzy brained. His Australian accent didn’t make it any clearer.

She lit the pipe and breathed the sweet smoke. She offered the pipe to him as the warmth touched her mind.

A pounding on her door almost made her drop the pipe.

“What the fuck?” Dylan said.

She giggled. It was probably a neighbor complaining about the smell again. Who the fuck cared? “Here take this. I’ll go tell them to fuck off. Or if it’s that bitch from upstairs, I’ll invite her to join us. She needs the stress relief.”

She rolled off the bed and grabbed her satin pink robe off the end of the bed. Her toes dug into the wool of the rug at her bedside. Maybe she should buy a silk rug to use in the summer. Silk should be cool and soft, like her robe. She shrugged and pulled the robe around her, tying the sash around her waist.

“You could at least cover yourself.” Dylan pointed the pipe at her barely covered ass.

Jessi glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “We have a better chance for a threesome if I show my assets.”

“If it’s another woman, I’m in. I’m not touching another guy’s dick.”

“Because we’ve never done that.” She breezed across the hardwood floors of the condo. She ran her hand along the beige wall in the hallway. Beige was no longer in vogue, and it clashed with the dark sheen of the floors. She wondered if Dylan knew any painters. Perhaps a dark gray. She could get it done while she was on tour and come back, buy some new accessories to match. Perfect.

She opened the door a crack.


She tried to push it closed. She needed more clothing. She needed to be sober. A polished black shoe pushed between the door and the frame, preventing her from closing the door. “Jessica.”

She hated when he used her full name. The commanding voice helped sober her. “Jake.” She spoke in a monotone to hide how his sudden appearance at her door had stopped her heart. What the fuck did he want on a Monday morning? Afternoon? She wasn’t sure of the time.

He saw the stunned look in her eyes, or her altered state of sobriety. He took advantage of her shock to push the door open. She stumbled back. “Not calling me Dad today, Jessica?” His suit filled the doorway. His lips were pressed together, but the corners turned up into a smile that held no happiness. Jake wasn’t a particularly happy man in general, but today he was pissed. And she was the winner in the sweepstakes of target for his rage.

“It’s Jessi. And you aren’t my father.” She crossed her arms over her chest. If only she heeded Dylan’s warning to wear clothing that covered her ass. Jake, despite only being a decade older than her, always had a look that made her feel like a child.

He stepped into the apartment and three men moved past them. What the hell was going on? “We’re taking everything,” Jake said over her head. Jessi dragged her eyes away from his perfect blond head to see two men lifting her sofa. Her stomach lurched.

Before she reacted, Dylan’s voice rang out. “What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck are you?” Everyone turned, and Jessi cringed. He was naked, predictably, and still holding the smoking pipe. The sweet scent filled the room. She wanted to grab it and finish off the herb. She needed it to deal with Jake.

No, she needed a clear head to deal with his demands. Where was her mother in all this? Why hadn’t she warned Jessi? Or had the selfish woman left her second husband again? Part of Jessi was surprised Jake put up with her mother’s antics for more than a decade. Sheila was selfish and spoiled. Her only stock in Jessi was the younger woman’s good looks. And Jessi ruined her looks with tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair, at least according to her mother.

“I’m Jessi’s stepfather. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” Jake’s mouth curled into a snarl.

“You live here?” The pipe dropped to the floor and rolled. She froze. Would it burn the floor?

“He pays for the place,” Jessi groaned. She started for the pipe, but Jake grabbed it first. Paid for the place described the current tone of the situation. She’d have to work magic to save her ass. But she couldn’t flirt with Dylan in the apartment.

Jake’s ice blue eyes traveled over her like a rough caress. Her eyes narrowed on the angles of his face. “Get fucking dressed. Send your boyfriend home. We’ll talk. And for fuck’s sake, open the windows. I’m getting high standing in this room.”

Jessi’s face tightened. How dare he come into her house and treat her like a child? He was right, Dylan needed to go. There was no way she could charm Jake with her lover watching. Jake would never calm down in the presence of the shaggy stoned Aussie.

She grabbed Dylan’s hand and dragged him to the bedroom. She threw his clothes at him and grabbed the first thing in her drawer her hand touched.

“You’re letting him walk in here and talk to you like that?”

“Who the fuck do you think pays the rent? Why do you think we can lie in bed every damn day fucking and getting high? Who paid for the weed? I can make him realize he’s acting hastily. Stay here.”

Jake threatened to cut her off several times before, but now he was acting on it. Once she was dressed, she closed the door, and put on her best smile, hiding her thrashing heart.

“Jake, I know you want to remind me who is boss here. A phone call would have sufficed. I’m looking for a job.” She wanted to scream at the men clearing out her apartment to stop. The words froze in her chest. Even if she did, they’d never listen. Jake had the authority.

He turned from where he was watching one man empty her cupboards into a box. His eyes flashed. “Don’t lie to me ever again!” The words lashed Jessi. Jake paused as calm returned to his stare. “I have a job for you. You will work for me.”

Her breath stuttered. “Doing what?”

“You’ll be my assistant. No more free ride.” He returned to watching the men pack her belongings.

He wouldn’t give her a chance to charm him. She pulled out her desperation card. “What does my mother say?”

The chill returned to his eyes and his voice. “I don’t care what she says. She moved out three months. She didn’t tell you?”

She rubbed her hands over her arms. Her mother was such a fucking bitch. “How many times have you separated?”

“I’m not discussing details of my life. Point is I’m not paying for your lifestyle anymore. That shit is over. You are twenty-four. It’s time to grow up, learn some skills and pay your own way.”

His plan was ludicrous. She was a terrible employee. Maybe they could compromise on at least one point. “Why can’t I stay here while I work for you?”

“Because I’m not paying for this apartment anymore. The landlord wants you out. Too many complaints about the drug smell. You can live at home, or you can pay for it yourself.” He was immovable as a mountain when he decided something. She’d seen it as a teenager, but she’d never been on the receiving end.

Since Jessi had no way out, she’d poke at him. Being irritating would prove he made a mistake. Then the movers picked up her sofa. She whirled to Jake. “You’re taking my furniture?”

“My furniture. There isn’t one thing in this apartment, I haven’t paid for.” He stepped into her space, looming over her, crowding her. “Including you.”

She gasped. Did he call her a whore?

“Your education, your food, your drugs. It’s all over. You have one month to prove you can work for me, Jessica.”

“My name is Jessi.” She narrowed her eyes.

He grabbed her hair. “I don’t fucking care. If you can prove yourself, I’ll pay you a wage that can pay all your needs.”

“You aren’t going to pay me for a month?” Her voice was a whine, she couldn’t help it. He was hurting her.

He pulled her closer to speak in a low voice in her ear. “Considering how much I’ve paid for you over the past few years, a month is the least of what you owe me. After that, you can move out if you wish. Do whatever you want. If you fuck up, you’re out on your ass. Do you understand?”

She nodded, a little. His tight grip on her hair kept her from moving. She swallowed as she met his steely gaze.

“Say it out loud, Jessica.”

His tone scorched all the liquid from her body. She managed to lick her lips to find her voice. “I understand. One month to prove myself. If I prove I can do your damn job then what?”

His hand dropped away. “Then you can keep your job with me, you can look for something else. I’ll pay you the same as I pay my current assistant.” His eyes dropped to her mouth and she frowned.

Was he checking her out?

No. Jessi tossed her hair. She wasn’t fragile or struggling. She was… what? Having fun, enjoying her life, more than he could claim. “I’ll pack my clothes.”

“Good girl.” He stroked her arm and she had the urge have a hot shower to erase his touch. “Pack what you need for the next month.”

She would follow until she figured out a way out. Unless she found a plan, she was fucked, and not in a good way.

She slammed the door to her room. Dylan was sitting on the bed. “You have to go,” Jessi said, grabbing her suitcase from her closet. She should have listened to her friend who said move to Europe. Jake wouldn’t be able to steal her belongings in Europe.

“That’s your stepdad?” Dylan looked stunned.

“Yeah. And I have to work for him for a fucking month.” She pulled open her drawer and contemplated the contents. Fuck it, she grabbed a handful and tossed it at the suitcase.

“We’re going on tour in two weeks.” Dylan was sobering up at least. He could walk out of the apartment on his own. She was supposed to go on tour with them.

“I’ll figure it out before then. I’ll get out of this, but unless you can somehow magically pay for me, I have to go with him. Help me pack, for fuck’s sake.” She closed the empty drawer and opened the one under it.

“I don’t think I want any part of this. I’ll catch up with you when I get back.” Dylan edged toward the door.

“You’re dumping me?” Her stomach caved in.

“You aren’t touring with us. There will be a lot of women…”

His words dumped realization over her like cold water. “You’re dumping me so you can fuck whoever you want on tour.” She dropped the sweaters she was holding. “Get the fuck out.” She kept her voice low so Jake wouldn’t overhear.

“Jess don’t. We’ll catch up when I get back.”

“Fuck you,” she screamed, storming to the door. She opened the door and found Jake standing there. He looked smug. “Dylan is leaving.”

“I’ll escort him.”


Dylan paused at the doorway. “Babe, come on. I still love you.”

“I highly doubt that. Just leave. I hope you get a venereal disease while on tour.”

Dylan’s shoulders heaved and he shook his head. Jake grabbed his arm and Dylan shook him off. “I’m leaving, man. Fuck.”

Jessi turned back to her sweater collection. She was zipping the second suitcase when Jake’s movers came in and took her bed.

Unable to watch her life being stripped away, she grabbed a travel bag and locked herself in the bathroom. She dialed her mom while she lit a cigarette.

“Hey Jessi, my girl. I was going to call you.”

“Sure you were. Who did you leave Jake for?” Jessi put her toiletries in the bag. Dishes could be replaced. Her makeup was worth more than either of the men touching her furniture.

“His name is Paul. He’s a sweetheart.” Sheila Boyd cooed the words, making Jessi nauseous.

“Jake worshiped the ground you walked on. If you’d stop cheating on him…” This was her mother’s fault. Why couldn’t she do one fucking thing that helped her daughter?

“Why do you care?” She imagined Sheila tossing her perfect hair over her shoulder. Or tapping her manicured finger nails on the nearest surface.

“He showed up and took all my furniture away.” Jessi took a long drag from her cigarette.

“What? Let me call him.”

What exactly would calling do for either of them? “Jake will not keep paying for me if you’re gone. And he’s not taking you back.” Jessi knew Jake hit his limit with Sheila’s crap.

“You can come stay with Paul and I.”

Fuck no. “No… That won’t work.” Jake’s offer of a job and housing was better. He employed a cook and housekeeper, and his job offer was superior to anything she could get on her own. Even with her degree, she had no experience.

“Where will you go? With Dylan?” Was that concern in her mother’s voice for someone other than herself?

“Jake will let me live with him, and he’s giving me a job. If I can prove myself for one month, he’ll give me a permanent job and salary.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t think he’d do this. Didn’t you have a job?” The concern in Sheila’s voice was almost real enough for Jessi to believe she was worried for her daughter. Almost.

Jessi nearly laughed. She hadn’t worked in a year. None of her jobs ever paid the bills, so she quit trying. Since Jake was footing her bills, she had time to follow Dylan’s band around. They were on the verge of a major record deal. “Not for a while.”

There was a knock on her door. “Jessica!”

Jessi shrank from his anger outside the door. He smelled the smoke. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you in a few days.” She ended the call and tossed her cig in the toilet and flushed.

When she opened the door Jake coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. “You will not smoke in my house,” he said without his mouth moving from the thin line he pressed it in.

“I called Sheila.”

He swallowed and she swore his eyes looked a little pained. “What did she say?” This was Jake. He didn’t feel pain.

“That she’s a selfish bitch.”

“Well the apple doesn’t fall far—”

She screamed. “Don’t. Go. There.” She dropped her shoulders. “I should give you credit for putting up with her bullshit longer than most.”

“And yours.”

She tossed her platinum hair again. “What did you need?”

“Everything is packed.”

“That quickly? Where is it going?” Would she get her stuff back?

“Storage. Which, yes, I am paying for. You can have the location and key at the end of the month.”

“Great.” She grabbed her bag from the sink and pushed past him. Her suitcases were gone and she turned to him.

“They put your suitcases in my car. Anything else will cost you.”

She slung her makeup bag over her shoulder and grabbed her purse from the back of the bedroom door.

At the house she called home for only a few years, she took her bags to her old room. She looked around. They erased any traces of her teenage years. It was now a neutral guest room, beige, and impersonal.

She unpacked her suitcases then went downstairs in search of food.

In the kitchen, she was greeted by her favorite household staff. She’d worked for Jake since Jessi was a teenager. “Jessi,” Katherine said warmly. Her familiar soft brown eyes were comforting.

Jessi opened her arms and they hugged. “Hello Katherine. I’m home.”

“I heard you were staying with us for a while.”

“Yes, I’m working for Jake.”

“I heard that as well.” Katherine would never speak ill of her employer. She always wondered what Katherine said when she got home about them. She wondered if Katherine knew Jessi was blackmailed into this job.

“Is there anything to eat?”

“There’s leftovers. Or I can make you something. Whatever you want.”

“I’ll eat the leftovers. I can get it myself.”

“Miss Jessi, you know that won’t fly in my kitchen.”

“Who do you think has been getting my meals since I moved out? I don’t have a cook where I live.” Lived. She sighed thinking of her apartment and the freedom it gave her.

A few minutes later Katherine put the plate of heated leftovers in front of her. Jake came into the kitchen, and the temperature dropped ten degrees. Five degrees from the ice in his eyes, and five from his attitude.

“Katherine, if you’ll excuse us. I need to talk to Jessica alone.”

“Of course, Mr. Boyd.” They watched Katherine leave then turned to each other with a defensive pose.

“You aren’t making Katherine call you Mr. Boyd are you? She’s family.”

“That is her choice.”

Jessi wanted to slap him, but the act would enrage him. She would lose her chance to return to her life. She ignored him in favor of Katherine’s mashed potatoes, the best thing she’d ever tasted. Jessi wasn’t high, so her appreciation equaled a rave review.

“And I don’t ask her to call me that, she started all on her own a few years ago. You’d know if you came to dinner in the last three years.”

“I come here. I make sure it’s not when you’re home.”

He scoffed. “Look I didn’t come here to argue with you about everything under the sun. You think I’m an asshole. I think you’re a spoiled brat.”

“You are an asshole.” She was not a brat. Her grandfather spoiled her, but her mom had gone through that money between the death of Jessi’s father and marrying Jake.

“Despite what we think, you are working for me. I will leave the house at eight. I expect you to be ready by then. The office opens at nine thirty. I want to get there early so I can prep you on your duties and my expectations.”

“Can’t we discuss the job tonight?” she asked, through a mouthful of food.

His lip curled back. “Isn’t it enough you’re a pothead with a loser boyfriend? Can you not talk with your mouth full?”

“My ex-boyfriend is in a band, he’s not a loser. They are this close to a contract with a major label. I enjoy getting high, helps me loosen up and had a good time.” She looked over his suit. “Probably something you know nothing about. If you ever want to learn. Let me know.”

“Right, so never. Do you think you can handle it? Or do you want me to wake you in the morning?”

“I’ll wake myself and be ready on time. I got through college with a four-point-zero GPA. While partying every weekend, I might add.”

“I know I saw your transcripts.” He crossed his arms while he watched her eat. “So you’re intelligent, well-spoken, and beautiful. Yet you chose to do nothing with your life for the past three years while I paid your bills.”

She didn’t know what she should react to first. She had to go with stunned. He thought she was smart, and beautiful? “I was going to write a novel when I first graduated, but I learned I’m not great at writing. I learned I am great at partying, and you are supposed to follow your bliss and do what you are good at. I took that very seriously.”

“See? You can rattle a witty comment off without thinking. You were popular in high school, I assume you still have a good network of contacts.”

She had contacts from her time with the band, but she doubted he would approve. “I don’t think you’d like them. They are more rock-and-roll and potheads than suits and business.”

“What I meant was you know people. If you applied yourself, you could obtain your real-estate license and sell houses. I think you’d be good at it if you actually tried.”

“This is the worst pep talk ever.”

“It’s not a pep talk. It’s the truth. But since you don’t want to listen, be ready to roll by eight a.m. It would be earlier, but I’ve been up since three a.m.”

She wanted to ask why, but she decided she didn’t care about him. She was forced to interact with him for work, but he didn’t say she had to socialize. When they were home, she could avoid him as much as possible.

He stared at her for several more seconds. She glared back. Was he going to stand there and watch her eat? What a weirdo. A hot weirdo, all her friends loved visiting to gawk at him. Their moms gawked as well. Jessi thought he was handsome at first, but he was also dating her mom, so ew.

He stared at her for a long moment, then he walked away. Jessi leaned on the cool table top, polished so well she could see herself in the wood.

She sighed so heavy she expected it to thump on the table. This month would feel like years. And probably take years off her life. But he would lose years from his life span, so she had a small win. Tiny. Minuscule. She’d take any success.

When she finished eating, Katherine took her dishes away. She and Jessi hugged again before Jessi returned to her room and stared at her phone. Text her friends? Play silly video games? Nothing appealed to her. She wondered if Dylan had gone out as they planned, only now she was stuck in hell. He was likely partying. Her phone rang. Sonya, the drummer’s girlfriend from Dylan’s band. She dropped her head back, another ally in the new war. She answered and music poured in. “Hey Sonya.”

“Jessi. Where are you?” Sonya’s words slurred, but Jessi had known her long enough to understand.

“At home. Didn’t Dylan fill you in?”

“He’s shit faced.”

Jessi snorted; Sonya was drunk too. But as far as Jessi could tell inebriated might be Sonya’s natural state. “My stepfather is cutting me off. I have to work for him for the next month or he’ll kick me out.”

“I didn’t know your dad was paying for everything.”

Because she didn’t broadcast the information. “Well now you know.”

“Shit I’m sorry. What about the tour?”

Jessi paced the room, her volume rising. “Dylan dumped me, so even if I figure out a way out of this, I’m done with his ass. I’m only someone he fucks.”

“Fuck that sucks. We should get together. I still love you even if you aren’t my band wife.”

“Yeah. Before you go on tour for sure. Tell Dylan to go fuck himself.”

She ended the call when her door banged open. “We can hear you down the hallway. You want to keep it the fuck down?” Jake flared.

Could he get off her fucking back for one minute? Was he going to keep going until he ruined her entire fucking life? She met his flashing eyes with her own glower. “I’m talking to the one friend I have left. Your bedroom is at the other end of the house.”

“I moved out of the master suite. I’m two doors down.”

“Get the fuck out of my room.” She stepped toward him.

Jake’s hand snapped out and snatched her wrists. “I spoiled you. No punishments, you got whatever you wanted. I think you need some damn discipline in your life.”

“Like what?” She twisted her arms, trying to extricate herself from his grasp.

“A good spanking? I think it would do some good.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her body went rigid, her cheeks flushed.

“You willing to test what it takes to push me? You want to see what it takes to end up over my knee?” He jerked her forward until she was under him, their bodies barely touching at the chest. They stared at each other for several heartbeats, her breath getting quicker as each one past. Heat curled between them.

“Good night, Jake.”

He snorted derisively, pushed her back, and dropped her arms. One side of his lip curled up before he turned. She stood where she was until he left the room, shutting the door quietly. She sneered at the door, “Fucking snake.”

But he wasn’t as bad as Dylan. The asshole dumped her so he could get laid while he was on tour and thought she’d wait for him. Jessi broke out of her suspended state and paced the length of the room. She needed a smoke. She’d rather get high, but she wasn’t willing to risk homelessness on her first night home.

If she was the worst assistant, he’d be forced to throw her back in her apartment. She couldn’t be overt about it, she’d have to be inept. She could be inept.

There was the threat of violence. A smile tweaked at her lips. Would he keep his threat to spank her? What would it take to piss off Jake the great? She tested him a little when he first married her mother, but he never exploded, so she gave up. Not like her mother.

He probably wouldn’t spank her, but the idea intrigued her. She had a shit ton of sexual experience. Dating Dylan exploded her world. Threesomes, orgies, lesbian experiences. She had guys doing cocaine off her stomach while Dylan fucked her.

Spanking was not something she had done for enjoyment or punishment. Not even as a child as Jake indicated. She doubted it would have deterred her. In fact, him bringing it up was like challenging her.

She was so tempted. So very tempted. She stripped off her clothes and slipped into the bathroom off her bedroom. One good thing about rich people was every damn bedroom connected to a bathroom.

Maybe she should rock this job thing so hard they gave her a corner office and she wouldn’t have to grovel to a man ever again. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted on her own terms.

She’d figure that out in the morning. But first she’d see how she could poke at Jake. Just a little.

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January 11, 2018
by asrai

Thursday Thoughts #2

I didn’t think I was going to get this done. I was going to write a very exposed piece about myself but I couldn’t face it. Mental illness is a lot of denial and minimization.

So this came across my news feed and I had to watch it 4 times to get everything and then I watched it at least twice more and I want to watch it again but my stomach hurts too much.


Harry Potter and the picture that looked like a large pile of ash.



I’m not sure what’s funnier when Ron eats Hermoine’s family, Harry dipping Hermoine in hot sauce, or the Hufflepuff pig who is now Hagrid. Or … oh never mind watch it.

January 8, 2018
by asrai

More than Friends: Morning One



If you are new here you may want to catch the story from the beginning


Morning One


I wake to something banging. Was that my front door? Did someone break into my house? Did one of my fans track me down? I sit up and clutch my blanket to my chest.

Ow, fuck. My ass hurts.

Oh right, one of my fans tracked me down. Or rather my best friend stumbled on my cam show and needed to fuck me. It’s sort of confusing in the post-orgasm haze. Many, many orgasms.

I flop back to my pillows. TJ is out there in my living room or kitchen. Or something. Please let him be making coffee. I roll over and press my head into the pillow he occupied last night. It smells amazing. Like sex and spice and Taylor Jude. TJ. I should have realized.

I have questions. To get answers, I will have to move my sore ass out of this bed. Should I get dressed? Maybe my robe. I don’t want to advertise there may be more sex. We need to talk. I shouldn’t have asked him to spend the night.

Pussy jumps on the bed and nudges against my hand. I scratch behind her ears and she purrs. “What’s new Pussycat? You saw some new things last night.”

She remains unphased as she pushes against my side. There’s more banging, it sounds like pots and pans this time. Did he buy food to make breakfast? This isn’t what I thought when he said he wanted to wake me.

I thought there would be oral sex, handcuffs, or pain. Probably all three. Breakfast wasn’t even in my thoughts.

I snuggle back under the covers. Should I go out there?

I stretch over and grab my phone. I check my email, my private show schedule is full for the next week. There are several too personal emails, I toss them in the trash.

I throw back the blankets, I should help him. Pussy jumps off the bed and runs to the door. I pad to the door where my robe hangs. Taylor is at the doorway, his body blocking my escape. He surrounds me, my heart skips a beat as my eyes dart up.

I could love him.

Love is dangerous for us. We are friends. I don’t want to lose that. His heartbreak is not fresh, but the pieces are only taped together, waiting for time to mend him.

There is also the layer of Cinnamon and TJ. Does he want Chloe? Or does he want Cinnamon? Is Taylor different from TJ? Or is the domination just something I’ve never seen.

He grabs my chin and kisses me. “Back in bed. I’m making you breakfast.” He pulls the robe from me, slowly the satin slides through my nerveless fingers, the way he slid in me last night, the way his tongue is sliding in my mouth right now.

My limbs are limp when he breaks the kiss. “I know that. I was coming to help.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “You will come all right. For now you stay here. Get your vibrator and use it, but don’t come.” He waits for me to retrieve the vibrator and lie on the bed before he turns away.

I flick the switch and moan as it touches my pussy lips as he gets to the door. He turns and winks before he exits the room.

Don’t come, I repeat to myself as I rub the vibe against my clit. He better fuck me as soon as he gets in here then. A shiver slithers up my spine, circling my head. Is he hard thinking about me? I’m fucking wet thinking about him, about what he might do, about what he did to me. All those times on chat, all the things we talked about doing.

If he had told me in the bar or somewhere neutral, I would have been embarrassed. Instead telling me, while he groped me, I couldn’t be anything other than turned on. It’s embarrassing I didn’t know. I should have… TJ… Taylor. TJ could be initials for a hundred combinations of names. It only seems obvious now.

My legs tremble and I rip the wand away from my body. It hurts to be close and not come. “Hurry,” I call.

“You can’t hurry perfection,” he replies. “Take a break and cool down.”

I flip the switch off and pull the sheet over me, curling on one side. I grab my phone again, there’s a message from Joelle, a mutual friend of ours. “Joelle wants to know what I’m doing today.”

“Getting fucked until you can’t walk and don’t know your name,” he says, at the door holding a plate.

I type back a message. “Hanging with Tay today?” I say.

“No, if she’s bored she’ll want to see us. Just say you’re working.”

“I don’t want to lie.”

“I’ll pay you then it’s not a lie.”

“You aren’t paying me for sex again. Ever.” I level my stare at him.

He looks unimpressed. “What do you want first?” he waves his hand over the plate.

I reach for the fork and he pulls back, avoiding my grasping fingers.

“I’m going to feed you.” He picks up a piece of bacon and waves it.

I snap my teeth at it, but he doesn’t let me grab it.

“Say please and open your mouth. It’s your food getting cold while you dick around, not mine.”

“Speaking of dick…” I drop my gaze to the region of anatomy.

“You’ll have my dick in you again soon enough. You need to eat to keep your strength up or you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you, but not for good reasons.”

I shiver at the threat. “Please may I have bacon, Sir?” My voice is saccharine sweet, but I open my mouth and he pushes the salty meat inside. I chew it while watching him. He cuts up the pancake.

“So you went out and bought stuff to make pancakes?”

“No, I went to my apartment, as I needed extra frying pans. You have one. How do you live?”

“I only cook for myself. How many do I need?”

“I’ll buy you another, otherwise I won’t be able to cook here. You won’t be able to cook for me.”

“You aren’t allowed to buy me gifts anymore unless it’s my birthday, Christmas, or goddess help us, our anniversary.”

“I’ll buy you whatever I want.” He gives me an indignant look and presses a piece of pancake to my lips.

I take it into my mouth. The syrup is on my tongue first, but the fluffy dough melts my thoughts. We are silent as he feeds me bites of pancake, bacon, and egg. He watches me to see when my mouth is empty before offering another piece. It’s the most intimate experience of my life.

When the plate is empty, he sets it on my side table and rolls me to my back. His body covers mine, his weight balanced on either side, then his mouth comes down on mine. For a moment it overwhelms me and I struggle to breathe or think.

Taylor pulls back from the kiss. “You’re tense.” He shifts to the bed beside me. “Roll over.”

I give him a nervous look, but then roll to my stomach. When he comes into view, he’s sitting on the side of the bed removing his clothing.

“Going to spank me?” I ask.

“Maybe later.” He straddles my prone body and his fingers press into my shoulder muscles.

My breath hisses between my teeth. I’m far more sore than I knew.

“How bad?” he asks, kneading the muscles. His hands are strong. I wish I’d known he could do this months ago, I would have hit him up for a massage long before this.

“Just shocked me how sore I am.”

“Focus on relaxing. No worrying about tomorrow or who’s in charge. Focus on breathing, through your nose.”

I close my eyes and focus on my breath. His hands warm my muscles and it still hurts but not as bad. It maybe even feels good. He moves down my back, stopping when I tense a little, reminding me to breathe. My lower back, my hips, my ass, then down my legs.

Taylor stops at my feet and puts his hands on my ankles. “Now that you are relaxed, let’s get more intimate.” He pulls my legs apart and kneels between them. His hands grip my inner thighs and dig in until I writhe. “I love watching you squirm.”

He kisses my lower back upward to my neck. His mouth sucks my shoulder, and his teeth clenching my muscle makes me squeal. The stubble on his face scratches my neck and cheek as he nuzzles me.

“Do you want to be fucked, Cinnamon?”

“Yes.” The word is little more than a breath.

His hand comes down on my ass.

I stretch my neck. “Yes Sir. Please, fuck me Sir.”

“Good girl.” Taylor kisses me once more on the cheek. He stretches across the bed and I don’t know what he’s doing until he presses my vibrator into my hand. “For later.” He probes between my legs, scratching the stubble, then two fingers stretch my pussy, sliding against my slick inner walls. “I love how wet you get when I touch you.”

His fingers withdraw. I whimper at the loss.

“So impatient,” he murmurs. He squeezes my ass, the head of his cock presses against my opening.

“Taylor.” I arch my back trying to motivate him into filling me.

“Chloe.” He pinches my side, but I know he wants this too when he surges inside of me.

“Yes.” I relax down again. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

“Turn the vibrator on and put it on your clit but don’t come until I tell you.”

“You want to torment me.”

“Always, baby girl.”

I sigh, but it’s for show. I love the games he plays. The vibration against my belly makes me giggle as I push it down between my thighs. I moan as it hits my clit.

“Don’t come,” he reminds me, before he slides his cock inside me.

Right. Don’t come.

“Focus on your breathing, it will make it easier.”

I close my eyes again as his thrusts quicken. My body tightens, a wave of pleasure slithers through my thighs. Oh god, oh god, oh god. How will I not come like this?

“Focus on your breathing.” His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me back to him in mind and body. I hope he presses hard enough to bruise me.

I force my focus to my breathing, slowing it to a count of four. The focus off my pussy helps to slow my descent into bliss but the effect only lasts a short time. The buzz on my clit intensifies as he grips me harder, fucks me faster. My moans match his movements. “Please,” I say between gulps of air, “I need to come, TJ.”

“Not yet, Cin. Do you need to move the vibe off?”


“You can take a little more for me.”

For him, sure. I think. I open my eyes and focus on the artwork on my wall. A few more thrusts and my need to come reaches fever pitch, I arch my hips away from the vibrator.

“Come for me, Chloe. Squeeze my cock and make me come.”

Taylor reaches around and presses the vibe into me, halting his thrusts until I’m quaking. I let a out guttural sound as my body is racked by agonizing ecstasy. He grabs my hips, driving into me, shaking me deeper until he overflows with rapture. I feel his legs quiver against mine.

He collapses next to me, half on me. I smile, unable to move, my gasps turning to panting.

“Fuck.” I don’t know who mutters that, it’s echoing in my head.

He turns his head, so he’s facing me. “It’s never been this good.”


“Not just sex. When I fed you, my heart was beating out of my chest. Like it was in your chest.”

“Yeah. That was intense. Everything has been intense since…” Since when? The computer, I suppose. “Since TJ messaged me. Did you know it was me?”

“I knew it was you. I thought I’d have a laugh, maybe even tell you it was me. You were so fucking hot, Chlo, I couldn’t stay away. And then it got hotter and I could barely keep myself from touching you. Every minute I was with you I would fantasize how you taste or feel. It was out of control and last night I couldn’t take it one more day.”

I kiss him with my heart in my throat. I have many conflicting thoughts. Glad is the dominant feeling. The sex is amazing. Taylor is amazing, I’ve always known that. But the doubts in my mind need to be addressed. Maybe not today or this weekend, but before I fall in love.


As always submitted to Masturbation Monday. Warning link is a dick pic. 🙂  But some good sexy times in there.

January 6, 2018
by asrai

Interspiration January #1

A collection of what inspired and turned me on this week. <3 First weekly post. All links are NSFW unless otherwise mentioned.


Friendly visit

Monday child. Forbidden desires. #hot #onehandread via @thereon_cara

the above is the subject of It’s Complicated, but for some reason I’m afraid to release it. Someone give me a push

Non Fiction

A guide to safer sexting and protecting your pictures.

And a tease for Monday’s post

January 4, 2018
by asrai

More than Friends Chapter List

The story of a camgirl who is addicted to her client “TJ” and the way he makes her come.

All links are erotic, passionate, and sensual. 18+


She’s a shameless, sinful, sensual cam girl, but he tantalizes her like no other.  Night One

He knows she’s made of sugar and spice, and they tantalize him equally Night Two

“I’ve been craving all things cinnamon lately.”  Night Three: Hard and Fast 

Cinnamon is as delicate as she is depraved Night Three: Soft and Sweet

Breakfasts and other feats Morning One

Nap and cuddles Lazy Afternoon


January 4, 2018
by asrai

Thursday Thoughts #1

Jeff Goins central piece is his writer’s manifesto and along with that he has a challenge to write one. To clarify my message, to hone in on why I write. I’ve written a couple manifestos in the past, but I’m really enjoying this one.

I write fiction that is:

1) Romance

Romance gets a bad rap, something for women. Pictures of flowers, candy, trinkets float through our heads.

Romance is a flowery word for relationship and connection.

Everyone wants relationships. Everyone wants to connect to another person.

Romance is not a gender-centric idea. Everyone regardless of gender, sex, or orientation wants someone to connect and share our lives with.

Almost every story genre contains a romance in it, a relationship.


Romantic relationships, for most people, lead to sex.

Sex is pleasurable, Sex is natural. Sex is connection, intimacy, release, and creation.

Sex is whatever you want it to be and more.

For myself, sex is a challenge. I struggle to express my sexual and sensual being freely. Sex was a childhood wound, and I’m working on making it an act of connection, intimacy, release and creation.


Characters in my fiction grow. People in real life grow and change. Relationships often reflect our wounds and challenge us to grow. Sometimes we can’t rise to those occasions, but in fiction, the characters always grow together, stretch themselves to be the person who can love and support their partner.

We are all imperfect beings. And we all want this connection and we all have a history and wounds that bump against our partners desires and history and wounds. And to connect, to really connect, we have to clear those up.

It’s not easy. But like characters in fiction we can do it.


I love me some angst. The push and pull of will she, won’t he? Will they kiss? Will they make love? Will they say I love you? I FREAKING LOVE IT.

My favorite book I wrote as It Was Always You. It was full of angst. Ben and Selene loved each other so much, but their own rules kept them apart. Unless their desire became too strong or inhibitions lowered and they lapsed. Only for a moment.

The push to keep in their identity, to protect themselves from pain and the pull towards the one they love gives me shivers. The best books I can find are page turners full of that push and pull that angst. I know that they will end up together, because it’s a romance, but how they get there is more exciting than the ending.

And then we hit the crisis moment where one person says “I can’t keep using my self control to keep you at arm’s length. Either you love me or you don’t.” And the person has to look inside and change or lose their perfect partner.

Its romance so they change, and the couple fall into bed, kiss, say I love you, and live happily ever after.

Beautiful words

I love words. I love that we created these letters to represent sounds, and then string the sounds together that represent the world Words are entirely made up. If we come across something we don’t have a word for, we make one up. And if it’s used widely enough, it becomes an official word.

I love that some words are forbidden for reasons we don’t really understand. I love that different words make you think of different things. Wet, soaked, sopping, damp are all variations of the same thing. But each one has a slightly different connotation, a slightly different meaning.

I love that words can have more than one meaning. Pussy, mine, patient, spare, ship. A ship shipping ship shipping shipping ships. (Google it). The only time incorrectly is spelled incorrectly is when it’s spelled incorrectly.

I hang out on a lot when I’m writing. Looking for just the right word to describe Chloe’s cunt, or TJ’s erection, or the feeling that shakes their bodies when they come. The shivers, the quivers, the trembles, or maybe a flutter, palpitation or vibration.

The right words will make you shiver and quiver or rage or cry or jump for joy. Only in the hands of the skilled creator who puts them together just so for you to consume. Or at least that’s what all of us writing are trying to do.

There it is the stories I tell, the characters I create, the worlds I spin, the reasons I write.


January 2, 2018
by asrai

More than Friends: Soft and sweet

If you are new here you might want to go back in this story

Night One

Night Two

Night Three Part One


Night 3 Part 2


I know I should leave. Chloe’s wants radiate through our conversation. She wants more, a relationship, a commitment. I want those too, but my heart is still bruised. My emotions are tender, they limp instead of skip, dance, or sing.

I should leave, but I can’t. I want more of Cinnamon, to see her squirm, hear her moans. To fill her in all the ways we talked about.

I leave the bed and get cinnamon buns. I return to Chloe and open the box. While I sit beside her, I feed her bites of sweet dough and tease her. She nips my fingertips, and I let her suck them clean.

“You’re good with your mouth, Cin. Time for you to show me the result of your deep throat practice.”

She looks down at my cock. It’s half hard. “I don’t know if I can take anything that large.”

“You have bigger dildos.” I stroke my erection to grow it. She reaches for me, but I catch her hand. “On your knees on the floor, proper blow job position.”

“There are dozens of ways to give a blow job. There is no right way.”

“Sassy Cinnamon. I’ll punish your smart mouth later.” If we don’t pass out from exhaustion. “On the floor.”

She grins and slides to the floor. She was pushing for punishment and I’m tempted. I wind my fingers into her hair, gripping her. She wraps her fist around my cock, I remain still while she guides me into her hot mouth. Slide, suck, slide.

“No hands,” I command. “Put them behind your back.” I glance over and catch our reflection in her closet doors. She has the old style ones that are floor to ceiling mirrors. I can watch myself fucking her mouth and that may be the most erotic act I’ve experienced.

Her hand drops away and she bobs her head. In and out, my dick slides. “Yes.” I lean back a little, letting her pleasure me. She pulls me deeper into her mouth. I want to yank her hair into submission and fuck her.

“Deeper baby. Take me all the way in, swallow me down.”

Her moans turn to choking as she takes me to the back of her throat. She holds me there, a couple heartbeats before she sputters my rod out of her lips. My fingers massage her scalp. “Good girl. That’s my good girl. Take me back in. Do it again.”

Chloe’s lips part and she wraps herself around my cock again. She’s a fucking angel. She presses right to the back, swallowing the head again. Her mouth holds me one heartbeat longer. And then she sucks, pure pleasure pulsing through my body. Her fingers feather my balls, her nails scratching lightly, perfectly. She’s either had practice or she’s just naturally good.

Her tongue swirls the head of my cock and my control slips. I tug her hair a little tighter. “You stay still. I’m going to fuck your mouth. When I come I’ll cover your breasts. Okay?”

She nods a little. Her eyes are wide. Which part is new for her? I don’t care I’m going to come in her mouth shortly.

I pull her hair so tight she must be uncomfortable. She doesn’t show it, or maybe it relaxes her, she looks calmer. I thrust into her mouth. I have to be careful not to hit the back of her throat, she already had enough of that today, I don’t want to bruise her.

My balls pull up and I pull out of her mouth. I stroke my erection, trying to keep it pointed at her chest until I burst all over her. My cum drips down her skin making her look delicious. My dick is half limp when I pull it from her lips. “I knew you could handle it.” I pinch her nipples, my fingers sliding through my cum on her.

“It’s sticky, and it was hot. But it’s getting cooler.”

“You look hot as hell.” I want to fuck her again; I just came and I want her again.

“Do you want to continue with the fantasy or call it a night?”

“Are you done?” she asks, getting to her feet. She avoids my gaze.

“I don’t want to be done.” Ever. “After that, you deserve a reward. Then the bath.”

“What sort of reward?” Her worry turns to excitement

“Pain, Cinnamon. You asked for it repeatedly, so now I will hurt you.” I sit on the bed. “Over my knee, and I’ll spank you.”

She can’t move fast enough to throw herself over my knee.

Fuck. How’d I get so lucky that I can kiss, spank, and fuck my dream girl? Her ass is beautiful, her soft skin tempting me. “And now to turn your ass my favorite color.” I rub her ass with one hand, my mind racing ahead to fucking her again.

Slow down. I force a gulp of clean air. This is Friday night, as long as we have nowhere to go, and she agrees, I can possess her the rest of the weekend. I can brand her. Get her addicted.

And that’s where the plan goes wrong. I want to get her addicted, but I might get myself addicted. Accidentally. When she is in top form she’s difficult to resist.

Spank her ass red as my favorite pair of her underwear. I grip the muscle harder, digging my fingers into her. She is still so I slap her, hard, she jerks. “Checking if you are awake.”

“I’m awake. You make it hard to be good when you tease me.”

“That is true.” I slap her ass, lightly to start. I should have had her retrieve her paddle before I started. More pain, see if she was spanking as hard as it looked. There is something about skin to skin that’s more satisfying. I increase the speed and weight of my hand until she is moaning. The bloom of red grows with each hit. The more she moans the harder my blows become.

I freeze, caressing the rosy cheeks. My rosy cheeks. Tonight they are mine. This weekend she is mine. I hope she doesn’t have plans. “You look gorgeous. How does it feel?”

“Lovely. I can take it harder.”

“Can you? Maybe you should grab your paddle and we’ll see what you can handle. What’s your stopping word?”

She rolls off my lap and crosses to her computer desk.

“My safe word is donkey.”


The box of toys is under the desk. Her body blocks my view so I concentrate on her ass. “Are you trying to get me to bruise you?” I stroke my cock while I wait for her. It wasn’t many minutes ago I came, but her jerking on my lap while I spank her has me hard again.

I could order her to her knees to suck me off again. Fill her mouth this time. Not yet. She returns with the paddle. “Here you are, Sir.” I take it from her.

“Good girl. Hands and knees on the bed. Or would you prefer bent over the desk?”

She blinks at me, confused by the question. I grab around her waist and kiss her. “Never mind my questions. I’ll choose the bed.” I grab her hair and yank her in my desired direction.

Once she’s in position, back slightly arched so I can get a good angle, I bring the paddle against her. No warning, no pretense, no holding back. “Fuck,” she yelps, her body shooting forward. She almost falls onto her face.

“You said you could handle harder. Stay there. We need music.” I find my phone in my pants pocket and tune into some hard rock music with a beat the speed I’d like to spank her.

“I’ve never been bruised before.”

“Let’s see what it takes to get you to stop me.”

She nods, her head dropping. “I’m ready. Green.”

The paddle makes a great clap as it hits her. It drowns out the music for a moment each time. Her moans rise above the music. She’s hurting, but she’s trying to power through it. She’s trying to be more stubborn than me. I hit harder, making her swear. Again, she whimpers. Another blow and she whimpers, “Donkey.” Her body stiffens. A little louder, “Donkey.”

I stop and caress her scarlet skin. She falls onto her front, her body shaking. I gather her in my arms and wrap a blanket around her. “You okay?”

Her eyes are shining. “God yes, that was amazing. The last one hurt so much, I thought I might burst into tears.”

“I will run a bath. Clean you up was next. Then maybe let you sleep.”

She touches the glossy cum spot on her chest. “I like being painted by you. And you promised to make love to me next in your plan.”

“If you aren’t too tired. We need to pace ourselves. I was hoping we could play all weekend.”

“I have a show tomorrow night.”

“You can still do it. I’ll find something to do while you sell yourself.”

“Do you mind?”

“What you do?” How can I complain? I was purchasing what she was selling. “No.”

“Not jealous?”

“No. As long as we hide nothing, no one can be jealous. I can’t take any lies.” Sherry lied about our relationship.

“Okay, no lies.” She opens her mouth, but I kiss her. I don’t want to talk. I let my tongue swirl in her mouth, tell her everything she needs to know.

Once she’s relaxed, I roll off the bed and pull on my underwear. I run the bath, finding her bath salts in the cupboard and dumping a healthy dose into the water. Once it’s full, I return and pick her up. She squeals and wraps her arms around my neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you. What does it look like? You rarely ask silly questions.”

This mollifies her and she relaxes her head on my shoulders. In the bathroom, I put her on her feet and help her into the tub. I retrieve a bowl from the kitchen and pour water over her head. She sighs happily as I massage shampoo into her hair.

I wash her body slowly from neck to feet. When she’s clean, she pulls the plug and steps out. I insist on drying her body. She looks satisfied wrapped in an oversized fluffy purple towel. “Do you want to cuddle?” I cup her chin and kiss her softly.

She shakes her head, stretching to linger in the kiss. “I want you to make love to me Taylor. Slow and sweet.”

Make love to Chloe. I can do that. I can do soft. “Some sugar to go with the spice?” I don’t let her answer, I cover her mouth with mine. I slide my tongue past her lips, exploring her mouth thoroughly. My hands slip under the towel, brushing the back of her thighs, using her ass to pull her against me. She whimpers and wiggles against me. Her ass is tender.

Knowing she’s sore makes me surge. The two orgasms so far have taken the edge off my need for her. I can do slow now. I can take my time and tease her properly. I bend my knees so I can rub my cock against her cleft while I continue to make love to her mouth. Nipping her lips, stroking her tongue.

I pull back. We need to get horizontal. I take her hand and pull her to the bedroom. Pussy is on the bed, staring at us. I scratch the soft grey fur behind her ear and she arches into my hand. Always wanting more pets, just like her mistress.

“Puss, off the bed.” Chloe pushes her toward the edge of the bed. Pussy moves her fluff to the side, but refuses to vacate.

“She’s fine. You like having an audience.”

“Not my cat. She’ll be traumatized. I lock her out during shows.”

“That’s why I’ve never seen her on screen. You should introduce her. You should also get on the bed.” I pull the towel away and drop it on the floor.

She sits cross legged on the bed, making me smile.

“Lay down Chloe. Let me see your gorgeous body.” I stretch on the empty side, my legs at an odd angle to accommodate the ball of fur. Chloe lies on her side facing me, her cheeks are a little pink. Her hand lies on my chest; her fingers stroking the hair and my nipple.

I lean forward, kissing her again. My fingers curl around her breast, molding her to the shape of me. I almost let her feel the bite of my touch before I remember I promised sugar and silk. I roll her back and dip to suckle her. Her back arcs, demanding more. I circle with my tongue, and she digs into my hair. I can’t help myself, I sink my teeth into her flesh until she cries out.

My eyes drag to hers, searching for recrimination for the transgression. There is none, her head is tilted back, her throat exposed. I let my teeth sample that tender expanse, she opens further for me. I treat her other breast the same, tame then harsh.

My erection flexes against her side. Her fingers trace the outline through the cotton.

“Bad girl.”

Chloe doesn’t look sorry. She gives me a sweet smile, a flutter of eyelashes, and a soft kiss.

I can play that way. I press my palm to her mons, sliding across her labia. She’s heeded my plea and stopped shaving herself bare, the new hairs rasp across my skin. I need to taste her spicy sweet desire. Two fingers dip inside, stroking her slickness. I lift her fingers to my lips and suck them with a moan of pleasure. I breathe deeply, savouring the scent of how I arouse her.

I make a second pass of her juicy pussy. This time I press my fingers to her mouth. “I love watching you taste yourself.” Her smile parts and her tongue slides between my digits.

She lets her saliva flow over me, reminding me of how she sucked the dildo on camera.

“I remember this moment. On cam.” My words are more like a series of groans.

The desire to climb over her and pound into her overwhelms me for a moment. I close my eyes, my finger brushing her clit, until the need passes. I will be inside her again.

I keep the teasing touch on her clit until her hips rock. She wants it hard and fast. “I promised soft.” Brush, brush, tap. Mellow, soft, easy.

“You’re teasing.” Her lips are pressed together, barely opening as her frustration leaks out in puffs of air.

Her legs press together, her hips circle. “I’ll have to restrain you, Cin,” I warn. I press my knee between hers, stopping her from getting her legs too close together. She relaxes her thighs, letting them drop open.


“Good girl.” I reward her with a firmer touch. She sighs with relief. I push two fingers inside her, using my thumb to stroke her clit.

Her hand reaches inside my underwear and strokes my erection. Her fingers twisting off the head.

“Sweet Cin,” I whisper against her lips.

“I need you inside me TJ.” She kisses me this time, her tongue probing the recesses of my mouth.

I push my underwear off and shift my weight over her. She’s so wet, so aroused, so ready, my cock glides into her. I tense my thighs as a reminder to make love to her sweet self. She needs me inside, I need her period, all around me, all the time.

I roll my hips, her luscious body grips mine, milking me. My eyes meet hers, our lips pressed together, and without formulation we move as one. Together and part. Her hand wedges between us, and through the lust I remember she needs clitoral stimulation to orgasm. Imagining her touching herself is hot, and she knows her body better than me. Though I should have enough knowledge, I’ve watched her masturbate enough times.

Her hand vibrates between our bodies as I thrust faster. It’s her quivering legs and the way she milks me that forces my pace to quicken. I can taste the orgasm as she muffles her cries against my mouth. I grab her ass, pulling her against me as I drive for my gratification inside her.

My cock is buried deep in her when I climax. Fuck, my body goes limp, lust for her finally satisfied for the evening. She’ll rouse me again by morning, but I can rest for a while.

She pushes at me. “Crushing me,” she wheezes.

I roll to the side. “Sorry, darling. You drained me there. It will be a few minutes before I can walk.”

“That good?”

“Foreplay has lasted more than two months.” She’s propped on her elbow, looking down at me.

“That’s true. I’m starving since we never ate the cinnamon buns earlier. You want one?”

“Yes, please. Will you feed it to me?”

“Possibly. Are you staying the night?”

I smile. “Yes. I have plans on how to wake you in the morning.”


This post is part of Masturbation Monday #174

December 30, 2017
by asrai

Interspiration December 2017 #SoSS

I keep saying I’m going to make this into a weekly post and I haven’t managed. So here is some of the stuff that inspired me this month

All links are NSFW unless otherwise specified. You can find more link sharing fun by checking out the hashtag #SoSS on Twitter.


If you get spanked in the woods today. via @TabithaErotica #onehandread

Chloe didn’t anticipate meeting TJ . Can she deny his sensual promise? #masturbationmonday

Carved in the heart via @ella_scandal Crowded Train builds anticipation via @fdotleonora #masturbationmonday

Pretty red rope.

Girl on girl domination story!! 🙂 yes please. via @HannahLockhardt

Keeping things hot in leather. via @girlonthenet

Give me more to savor. I guess @KaylaLords and I were both inspired by this photo.

The joy of being used.

a night out via @Livvy_Libertine

It might be cliché @BibulousOne but it’s endlessly hot as well.

Satin and lace. He fucked the tension right out of me. The best kind of sex!!! via @KaylaLords

Good help can be hard to find

Sensation is my muse. omg I love this @KaylaLords

Best sex positions for her pleasure.

It started as a way to make extra money, she craves their depraved discussions. More Than Friends: Night One Cam Girl More Than Friends: Night One

The wedding night. Sounds like a great way to start a life together! 🙂 via @Livvy_Libertine


Non Fiction

Via @Mollysdailykiss the top 100 sexy blogs of 2017

Maybe it shouldn’t be amazing, but it is.

So enjoy the spotlight. Revel in the magic.

And don’t forget to bring a little girl with you.

Won’t work for my cover, but hello McScruffy. Need to find a stream of hot hips for ya’ll. okay, that’s probably for me. #asraihipscale

How to write better sex

10 intense erotic dreams. Any to share? I remember a good number of dreams, but nothing sexy.

Learning how to sex with chronic pain.

I cried laughing at this What a story. It’s so out there it has to be true. WHO MAKES THIS UP?

Vetting potiental subs via @stabbity

5 daring places to use your vibrator.

Top 10 sex mistakes people are making.

Achieving multiple orgasms.

Parents guide to having a sex life.

10 perfect sex songs.

Which nipple clamps should you buy?

Blood sex and why we react strongly to blood

6 ways to handle anal mishaps.

Fucket list 2018

Sharing nudes with friends

Love at first sight is actually lust.

Oh I wish I could see the scene that transpired after this picture. I read a lot of Victorian romance and seeing how sex works with those layers of clothes would be great.


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