Dear Angela:

I am in bed naked and hard and aching for you.

Please allow me to come soon.

Please tell me you want me to cry out for you.

Please oh please let come.

In heat,

Mr. Horny & Denied

(come on, Mr. H & D, did ya really think it would be this easy?)

The Concierge

You are one of the concierges at my hotel, and had, earlier in the evening, noticed me waiting to speak with one of your male colleagues. After a while, however, I had seemingly lost patience and left when he was very busy.

Having just completed your shift, you see me in the hotel bar and come over to introduce yourself, and to make sure that I had eventually gotten the information I needed. As I offer you a seat and a drink, I fumble a little in telling you that I actually went from the concierge to the bellmen to get my question answered.

This admission piques your interest because, in your experience, guys by themselves on business trips, as I am, typically talk to bellmen to find out about local adult entertainment.

Using this as a cue, you proceed to teasingly interrogate me to get more specifics about my inquiry, and also share your own wisdom.

As you explain it to me, information from the bellman would probably take me to some of the basest establishments, and information from your male concierge colleague would most likely take me to some high end clubs or bring a party to my room. You, however, being a more devoted student of the hotel’s clientele know that some guests may have interests that are a bit kinkier.

The flush in my cheeks and hesitation in answering your more direct questions regarding the type of entertainment and fun I am seeking confirms your intuition, and you take great pleasure in making me confess to some of my desires before revealing that you would be delighted to have me as your party girl tonight.

…………………………….

A beautiful fantasy, sent by a beautiful, kinky caller.

And, no, I’m not going to tell you what happened next.

If you’re really curious, put on your panties and your  cock-sucking lipstick …

… and call me!

You silly little Sissy Gurl.

Dear Angela

I awake caged and strapped to the bed where you left me, the silken ties still holding my wrists above my head and pulling my ankles toward the bedposts.  My cock is still swollen, locked in the metal cage.  The clothespins are laying against me, but no longer pinching my nipples.

I see your pajamas on floor outside the bathroom, hear the sounds of your bathing.

And I remember last night …

You had guided me gently into the bed. Laughing and giggling when you locked my cock up, telling me it was yours, that always and forever it would be yours.  You kissed my lips, using your fingers on my suddenly sensitive chest.  Because I couldn’t help but reciprocate, touching every part of your lithe body my fingertips could reach, you decided to tie me up.  I begged; I promised to be good, to settle down, to be obedient.  But, as always, my desire gave you the upper hand and I submitted.

Once I was bound, your teasing became more insistent.  Each pass of your lips or hands was a little more firm, a little more demanding, a little more exciting, soon with brief hints of discomfort and shadows of pain.  I was writhing.  My hips were bucking, arms and legs pulling, and ‘your’ cock was throbbing in your cage.

You persisted. Fingernails pushing through the bars, stroking, stabbing, and scratching at the shaft. Lips sucking on nipples. Legs stroking mine. Your erect nipples pushing against my body and then my lips. Finally your hands slapping my face, your thighs squeezing my chest, your mouth hovering over mine.

At last you slid your pussy slowly up my torso. I could feel the cool trail as your hot juices were exposed to the air and dried on my chest. Agonizingly frustrating patience as you approached my mouth. Suddenly my mouth, covered with your saliva had a purpose. You held my skull in your hands, you squeezed my ears with your thighs and drove your wet slit against my wet and hungry mouth.

On and on and on you teased, you stroked, you tortured.

And then you left me.  Fevered and left wanting, somehow I’d fallen asleep.

And now …

It is morning and you are coming out of the bathroom. The scents of my lust are replaced with those of soaps and powders. Your naked body elicits an involuntary groan from my mouth as your cock began to throb in its cage as if begging for attention. You gently unlocked the cage and carefully take my trembling and twitching shaft into your mouth. I feel your lips engulf me, your tongue wetly stroking me. Your delicate fingers probed at my ball-sack. I  feel a night worth of passion begin to flow.  And so can you.

With a “pop” you break contact.

Even as  my sob of frustration fills the room, you reach for my head and look directly into my eyes.  “Not yet,” you say.

You reached over me, keeping your breasts out of tongues hungry reach and untied one wrist.

“Go to work.  See you tonight.” And you walked out.

________________________________________________________

Love
Puppet Prince

“Men were created before women. … But that doesn’t prove their superiority – rather, it proves ours, for they were born out of the lifeless earth in order that we could be born out of living flesh. And what’s so important about this priority in creation, anyway? When we are building, we lay foundations on the ground first, things of no intrinsic merit or beauty, before subsequently raising up sumptuous buildings and ornate palaces. Lowly seeds are nourished in the earth, and then later the ravishing blooms appear; lovely roses blossom forth and scented narcissi.”

 The Worth of Women: Wherein Is Clearly Revealed Their Nobility and Their Superiority to Men

Moderata Fonte and Virginia Cox

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