Dirty thoughts of a clean mind

May 14, 2013

Who says you’re not a good girl?

Whispering dirty things into my ear during dinner with friends doesn’t mean you’re not.

Slowly sliding your hand inside my pants in a crowded cinema is not a valid reason for me to question it.

Getting on your knees in the kitchen while I wash the dishes can’t be considered a case against it.

Bending over the hood of the car suddenly and pulling your panties to the side while we carry the groceries into the house surely can’t be counted.

Pushing a wet finger from between your legs into my mouth while I’m on a phone call sounds totally normal in my opinion.

Climbing on top of me while I’m intoxicated and passing out to have your way with me seems perfectly legit to me.

Calling me while I’m driving and forcing me to listen as you make yourself cum appears completely harmless.

Who says you’re not a good girl? I can’t think of a single reason why you wouldn’t be…

(via vixenunmasked)

72 notes

May 13, 2013

“You know what you did,” he said calmly. She tried to avoid his stare but like magnets his eyes followed her desperate attempts to evade him. Her head dropped. Maybe if she closed her eyes his glare would disappear. It did not work. She could feel the anger in his eyes burning holes of resentment and disappointment into her.

“And I, too, know what you did. All of it,” he continued. He could see the surprise flushing across her face as she lifted her head. How could he know? It didn’t seem possible. Her face betrayed her with a first tear running down her flushed cheek. She tried to talk but no words materialized when she opened her mouth.

“Don’t speak,” he said, his voice trembling. He didn’t need to hear her excuses. There was no justification or valid reason for what had happened. Anything she tried to say now would only inflame the situation. It would simply add to the misery she had already created. He used to love her voice but now he never wanted to hear another word from her again.

“I hope it was worth it,” he concluded as he walked away.

(Source: mariofiorerosso, via saharaa51)

78 notes

May 9, 2013

Her bags were heavy, packed to the top with a week’s worth of groceries. She was almost home. After reaching her level, she left the elevator and proceeded to walk down the hallway toward her apartment. She was almost past his at 5C when she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. I should say hello, she thought. But look at me. My hair is not done. What am I wearing? I better not. She was about to keep walking when she caught movement in the mirror of his apartment’s entry. No! It can’t be.

She stepped closer to the door with shopping bags still in hand to get a better look. Oh my god! The mirror was angled in such a way that she could see him sitting on a chair in his living room. Fully naked. With an erection. She couldn’t believe it. The TV was off. There were no other people. What was he doing in the middle of the day with his front door open like that? I should go, she thought while she kept staring at him.

He was sitting on a chair with legs apart and head leaning back. His eyes were closed and she could hear him moaning even from this far away. He stroked his hard shaft with one hand as the other one cupped his balls. His hand was moving quite fast. It seemed that she had missed the start of the show. She could see him nibbling on his lower lip as his hand moved firmly along his erection. I can’t believe I’m watching this.

She lowered her bags slowly to the ground, careful not make a sound. One of them fell to the side and a cucumber she had just bought rolled out onto the floor. She blushed as she put it back into the bag. Returning her stare to the mirror again she watched as he continued his actions. He was getting more excited, his ass beginning to move back and forth on the chair. Seeing him thrust his hips like that would keep her up all night. She watched him rub his thumb over the tip of the head and then bring it to his lips. He licked his own precum. That visual shot straight between her legs.

She looked left, then right. No one was around. She quickly lifted the front of her dress and felt her panties while continuing to look at him. God, I’m so wet. With needy fingers she rubbed her lips through the moist material. She couldn’t take her eyes off his hand. His mouth. His movements. He seemed to have such a tight grip on the shaft. If she could only be closer to see better. That thought alone was enough for her to slide two fingers under the panties, between her swollen lips and inside her wetness. Her eyes closed briefly as she let out a quiet moan.

When she opened her eyes again she saw him flick his head back hard and bite into his lip. His stroking was frantic now. He must be close. With her fingers still inside her she watched as he suddenly erupted, blasting his cum all over his chest and stomach with some drops hitting him as high as his shoulder and neck. He kept stroking and it kept flying covering most of his upper body. Until he finally slowed down and his arms dropped to the side of his body in exhaustion.

With soaked panties and an unstoppable urge to fill herself she quietly picked up her grocery bags again, backed away from the door and disappeared down the hall in a hurry. Oh, Mr cucumber, you are going to get it now!

A few moments later he stood up and walked over to the door with juices still running off his body. He took a quick look up and down the hallway then closed the door. Yeah, he thought, I love being watched.

(Source: saharaa51)

299 notes

May 7, 2013

Touch it. But be gentle. Feel the skin on your finger tips. Every vein and every ridge. Pull your hand along the underside until you get to the head. Run your finger around it. Over it. Feel the texture. Then over the slit. Don’t be firm and don’t rush. Take your time. Grip the shaft carefully, then slowly move your hand back. Then forward. Same speed and same tightness. Keep going until you see the first drop of precum oozing. Then stop.

I’ll be watching you closely. I’m curious to see if you can control yourself or if you will be tempted to grip tighter. To pull at it harder. To increase the speed of your hand. Don’t. If you do I will take it away from you. Do as I say if you want to keep it in your delicate hands and you will get what I know you want.

Now lean down and lick that one drop off the head. Taste it. Feel the consistency on your tongue. Take in the flavor. Lick the rest of the head. Slowly. Use only your tongue, not your lips. Keep your hand still. Move your tongue along the underside of the head. Then circle it. Go over every part of it until it is completely wet from your tongue. Then take it into your mouth and gently suck on it. Just the head. Gently. Once. Twice. Then stop.

I’ll continue to observe you, making sure you do as I say. That you don’t get carried away. I won’t touch you and I won’t touch myself. I will lean back and watch how you do it. To see if you can follow my instructions. If you deserve to get your final prize.

Now take the head out of your mouth and lick the shaft. Start at the tip and slowly lick down until you reach the base. Flick your tongue over the balls once you reach them. Feel them tighten. Lick around them, then come back up the shaft along the underside. Up, then down. Keep looking at me for guidance but don’t stop. If you do it well then your reward will be waiting at the top in the form of more precum.

I want you to be gentle and slow. Don’t hurry and wait for my sign. When I finally run my hands into your hair and push your head firmer onto my throbbing cock, that’s when you will know that instruction time is over. That’s when I want you to take my cock any way you like. But until then, you will do as I say. Be a good girl and your time will come.

(Source: ladydoall, via porfimages)

412 notes

May 5, 2013

Let’s have a sexy time, baby. Put on that dress you’ve been saving for a special occasion. Slip into those shoes you know I love to see you in. Take your time with your hair. Go all out with your make up. Tonight, sugar, you and I will meet all over again.

I want to notice you like the first time I saw you. When you made me forget my name and struggle with getting a proper sentence out of my confused mouth. I want to be desperate for you. To fight for your attention. To blow away all competition in my way who are trying to get to you. Like that day I will not be denied. I saw you then and I had to have you. I will see you tonight and I will have you again.

Let me impress you. Let me take your breath away. Let me make you doubt everything you’ve ever known about men, good or bad. I want you to need more of me. To be curious. Once you get a taste I want you to be hooked. I will go all out for you and leave it all on the table.

So what if they check us out? I don’t care if they watch my hands roaming all over your body while we move to the beat. Who cares if they stare when I pull you into me, my breath on your exposed skin? I don’t mind if they see you blush when I whisper into your ear. I want everyone to notice how my entire body aches for you.

I know what you want, lady. I’ll make you feel like the only woman on this earth, because for me you are. I don’t need anyone else. I don’t care what label the one over there wears. I don’t care how spectacular the hair of that other one is. I couldn’t care less what the body of this one looks like. I don’t want any of them. I want you. My hands will show it to you. My lips will convince you. My desire will burn away all of your doubts and reservations.

And after every man in the room has cursed me for making him look bad, I will take your hand and you will follow me. We’ll leave them all behind and wondering what will happen next. But you and I will know. That will be the time when I slide that sexy dress off your body. That’s when all words will stop. That point when our bodies will pick up the conversation and take it wherever our passion will guide them.

Come on, baby, let’s have a sexy time and I will prove to you all over again that I’m the only man for you.

(Source: simply-black-and-white, via frenchperversion)

202 notes

May 4, 2013

“I miss you,” he said.

“I miss how you used to catch me staring at you when you were doing the most mundane things.”

“I miss the way your warm skin rested peacefully against mine while you were sleeping.”

“I miss your embrace on the good days but especially on the bad ones when nothing else was able to sooth me.”

“I miss waiting for you when you were late, then seeing you appear out of nowhere to immediately put a smile on my face.”

“I miss your voice on the phone, in my ear, in a letter. Whispering, laughing, yelling, crying.”

“I miss how during every fight when you drove me insane I couldn’t wait to tell you how much I loved you.”

“I miss everything about you. I thought it would get better but during every hour of every day it cuts more into me.”

“I miss you.”

He stopped looking at her photo and put it back into the drawer.

“One day I will stop. That will be the day I will move on. Today is not that day.”

(Source: micily, via saharaa51)

59 notes

May 3, 2013

“Marry me,” he said, looking at her with both expectation and concern in his voice. How would she react? What would she say? What if he shouldn’t have said it?

One second. Another second. A third one. Each one seemed to last an hour. No reaction from her. He held his breath. His body seemed paralyzed. He looked at her but all she did was stare right back at him with a blank look on her face. She didn’t blink or say a word. He didn’t know if he should say something else or turn around and run for the hills. Suddenly her face changed as if she had woken up from a deep sleep. He raised his eyebrows in anticipation waiting for her response. He didn’t expect the one she gave him.

Slowly she dropped to her knees, her eyes still on his. She hadn’t said a word yet. It appeared he wasn’t physically able to talk himself anyway. Her hand reached for his belt and unbuckled it. Then she turned to the zipper of his pants and pulled it down. What was going on? Is this how it was supposed to go? That’s not what usually happened in movies. Her eyes remained on his. The expression on his face had changed from genuine fear to “What the…?”

She reached into his pants and pulled out his still flaccid penis. Just like its owner it had remained motionless throughout the last few moments of horror. But it began to react when she pressed her lips on it. She put gentle kisses all over the shaft as it began to grow. Her tongue slid along the underside of it toward his balls. He closed his eyes. This was insane. His hands found her hair and he buried his fingers into it. He didn’t know what else to do.

She became more eager. Taking his balls into her mouth she flicked her tongue over them. Her hand was still on his now fully erect cock. She started to stroke, resulting in an immediate groan from him. He always enjoyed that sensation but today the experience was mixed with confusion. Looking up at him again she let her tongue run back up his length until she reached the head. Her lips closed around it and she began to suck it while her hand continued its action on his shaft. She stroked faster. She wanted to taste those first few drops. Harder sucking. Faster stroking. He started to leak, drops of precum escaping into her mouth. Finally.

His taste on her tongue shot straight between her own legs, letting out a rush of her own juices which had started as soon as she had put her lips on his soft shaft. Now her panties were soaked, barely being able to contain her wetness. She pushed his cock into her mouth while keeping up the pressure on it with her lips. Another moan from him and a tighter grip of her hair. Her own knees spread further apart. She began to slowly move her hips up and down as if she were riding an invisible cock on the floor. Her mouth and hand increased their intensity in turn. She wanted to taste more of him. All of him. Right now.

He had never felt her mouth as firmly on him before. He could tell she didn’t want this to go on for too long. He looked down at her just in time to see his cock almost fully disappear into her mouth. With his hands in her hair he pushed her head further into him until she had taken all of him. She gagged, her eyes becoming watery. He loosened his grip again. Slowly her mouth moved back up his saliva covered shaft. His cock was throbbing ready to explode. She looked up at him and closed her lips around the head once more. Her hand gripped the shaft and after only a few tight strokes he erupted. Without taking his eyes off hers he came. Strand after strand shot into her willing mouth. Her hips continued to move up and down as her juices leaked past the panties and down her thighs. When his orgasm finally stopped so did her hips.

“Marry me,” he said again a few seconds later, barely being able to breath. His cock continued to pulse and twitch as he waited for her reply.

Still looking up at him she licked her lips and stood back up. She put her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes with a smile. Then she kissed him deeply after answering to seal their new commitment with his remaining fluid.

“Yes.”

(via anon-of-us)

383 notes

May 2, 2013

All he wanted was to make her happy. To provide some sunshine on those cloudy days. To be there when he was needed and also when he wasn’t, just in case. He didn’t want to be the cause of her misery and add to the difficulties she already had to deal with. That was not his purpose or the reason of his existence in her life. It wasn’t how he came to be with her in the first place.

He thought he knew what to do. He truly believed that he understood what she needed and how to give it to her. To put aside his own needs and to be there without any expectations. It made sense to him and yet for some reason he was not always able to follow it. He kept getting sidetracked. He kept doubting. He kept searching for things that could possibly be wrong. But why?

Why did something have to be wrong? Why couldn’t he just accept life the way it was and provide the support and encouragement she asked for? Why couldn’t he be there whenever she needed him without his ego getting involved? He looked for reasons and answers. He couldn’t find them when he was most desperate. For now.

And yet through all the turmoil and insecurities in his mind he knew what was true and honest between them. That one belief was what he hung his hope on every day. That was what would get him across and finally see through the mud and fog in his brain. It was just a question of getting past it. And he would. He was determined and he would not give up. He was a work in progress. Flawed and still rough. If he was given some more time then he would not disappoint. The finished piece would eventually be revealed. With hammer and chisel in hand he kept working. Because the reason to persist and to fight his way forward was there waiting for him at the other end. Her!

(Source: will100, via salacious-musings)

66 notes

April 30, 2013

The Park Bench - Alternative Ending

She stopped behind the big Weeping Willow. The tree’s drooping branches disguised her hiding spot. Leaning against the wide trunk she began to observe him. He was sitting on a bench facing the expansive park. An open book was in his lap but he didn’t read it. He had his head leaned over the back of the bench and his eyes closed, letting the midday sun warm his face. He looked relaxed and completely at ease. He seemed like a man with not a single care in the world.

Her heart pounded with such speed and force that she thought any birds quietly sleeping in the branches above would wake up. Her mind was racing even faster. She had waited for this moment a long time. They had made sacrifices and dealt with challenges that often seemed insurmountable. Many times they had considered raising their hands in defeat. But they had persisted. They had stuck together through it all. Now the time had finally arrived. She wasn’t sure if this particular scene had ever played out in her mind but it didn’t matter right now.

She stepped out from behind the tree and onto the walkway leading in the direction of the park bench. Slowly she made her way toward him. The walkway split into two paths a few meters behind the bench. One went around to the front of it, the other turned back toward the large Weeping Willow. She stopped at the intersection…

As if awaking from a nap he lazily opened his eyes. Her face was above his illuminated by the sun behind her. A wide grin spread across his face. But he didn’t move. He stayed in the same position just staring at her. Those eyes he had been desperate to look into for so long. The lips he had been aching to taste for what seemed like centuries. Her smile, the cure for any worries or concerns he would ever have.

Time stood still. Even if there had been people around neither of them would have noticed. Nothing existed at this very moment other than their faces slowly moving toward each other. Like two parts of the same piece. Lost in life’s wilderness for so long but united at last.

“I’m sorry I’m late, my love,” she whispered as she lowered her lips toward his. “Hi.”

(Source: karinamia94)

66 notes

April 30, 2013

The Park Bench

As if awaking from a nap he lazily opened his eyes. He turned his head only to see the shadow of a person disappearing into the hanging branches of the big tree behind him. He looked around. There were no people anywhere which was quite unusual for this hour of the day. Knowing he still had some time, he lowered his head down against the bench again to take in more of that glorious summer sun. She should be here any minute, he thought with a smile.

She stopped her walk in the same spot behind the tree where she had observed him only moments earlier. One final look. That’s all she had left in her. She turned her head to see him looking around before resting his head back on the bench. Her heart sank.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered as she began to walk away. “Goodbye.”

(Source: karinamia94)

187 notes

April 27, 2013

I will have regrets. I already have some. More than a few actually. Things I should have done. Some I shouldn’t have. There are times when I manage to say the right words. Sometimes whatever I say is wrong. But I never set out to hurt, to offend or to upset her. I admit that unfortunately I can be good at that sometimes. Not because I want to be. It just happens without me realizing it at the time. It’s like a talent I don’t want to have. It hurts her. But it hurts me so much more.

I have to think better. I have to act better. I have to be so much better. For her and for myself. For us. I can’t accept that I’m not doing enough. That for some reason it was my fault if it ever ended. That it was because of me and my actions. That I didn’t do or say enough. I would never forgive myself. Worse than another person not forgiving you is you not being able to forgive yourself. You have to live with that forever. I couldn’t do that, with that damn thought burning permanently in my brain.

So I will attempt to do better. To be more for her. To make myself a necessity for her every single day. Because I can’t be without her. And I need her to keep thinking that about me, too!

(Source: saharaa51)

116 notes

April 25, 2013

Goodnight, my love. Sleep tight. Tomorrow is another day. When you awake, think about the day you had today. How much pain you went through. How difficult your memories were. How challenging your life seemed. Think about how broken and battered you felt. How freely the tears came and streamed down your face. Whatever you tried to do it did not stop them. Nothing worked. Nothing and no one helped.

Then take a look at yourself in the mirror, as tired and worn out as you might appear, and know that was yesterday. Know that you made it through that horror of a day. That it kept throwing punches at you trying to knock you on your back. But you withheld. You endured. Know that you are not broken. That you are not on your knees any longer. You are on your feet again looking life in the eye and saying: “Is that all you got, bitch?”

Tomorrow will be a better day, I promise you. Because you, my love, will make it so!

(Source: saharaa51)

203 notes

April 19, 2013

I remember that day well. And yet in some regards it’s somewhat of a blur. Certain aspects are as clear as the sky outside but others seem as though they happened many years ago. I think back about it often, though. It was a good day…

I felt it way before it left my lips. Even though it didn’t make much sense to me I knew at the centre of my heart that it was true. She did, too. But humans are funny. If we don’t see or hear it we won’t believe it. I wanted her to believe. To finally hear it from me. To see my face when I said it. And equally I needed to look at her when I made it over that last hurdle. Just to keep her reaction permanently in my mind.

It was nerve wrecking to be honest. I played it out in my head many times before that day. Going over different ways. Various scenarios. What words to say. How to stay cool. At crunch time it all went up in smoke. I just let it out. My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. My brain stopped. I’m no doctor but I think I was in some kind of fully awake state of unconsciousness for a second. Then she said it, too, and my body’s functions kicked in again. Good thing for me she did or I might not have made it.

Sometimes I wish I could remember every moment leading up to it and what we said after. But I guess that would just be icing on the cake. The important thing is that it changed everything. It certainly changed me forever. Yes, that day. I do remember it well. It was a great day!

(Source: arcanumnox, via salacious-musings)

89 notes

April 18, 2013

Maybe I’m too emotional. I know sometimes I let myself get carried away. I admit that under the surface I am just too soft. This damn romantic streak messes with me at times. It’s not the most masculine thing to admit but what can I say, it’s the truth. Like most men it’s not that easy for me to verbalize what I feel. It takes a certain courage and degree of foolishness to freely admit those things to another person. I don’t just mean saying I love you. That’s easy for a lot of people because often it’s a reflex and part of a routine. What takes more guts is admitting to all the thoughts and feelings behind those words.

To be that vulnerable is risky. You put yourself out there without a parachute and it’s easy to be shot down. That’s why it’s often safer to hold that last part back. Nobody wants to get hurt. Sometimes we let things out just to get them off our chest and to avoid our hearts or heads exploding from all that pressure of keeping it locked up. But most of the time we just want to know that the feeling is mutual. That we can continue to express what we feel because we know it will be acknowledged, appreciated and returned. At least that’s the hope.

I am probably too sappy. No, not probably. I know I am. But I’m also logical. Not a great combination. It can get ugly when your intellect picks a fight with your heart. I guess that’s the reason I often hide behind my words. I feel less exposed but I’m still able to express myself and not keep it all bottled up inside. It’s less daunting to write something than it is to say it face to face. And when I do my heart breathes a sigh of relief while my brain rolls its eyes and backs off for a bit. Everyone’s happy until those emotions come out for a peek once more. Then it’s on for young and old all over again. Sappy, sappy fool…

(Source: saharaa51)

474 notes

April 17, 2013

Only words. That’s all there was. That’s all he had. No other ways to express feelings. No other options to show love. No other possibilities to say he was sorry. Just a bunch of letters and words on a once blank page arranged awkwardly in the hope that they would end up standing for something. That there was meaning to them.

Sometimes those words were able to describe what he wanted her to know. Often he struggled to fully explain what his heart was screaming for him to say. The journey from heart to brain to fingertips was a flawed one. He didn’t want it to sound shallow or forced. It needed to be honest and pure and come from a place of truth.

But ultimately words were just words. They could not compare to the touch of his hand on her skin. They could not replicate the whispers from his mouth to her ear. They could not provide the feeling of his lips on hers.

If there were other ways he would try and use them. If he could help her understand better, if he could make her feel deeper, if he could give more, then he would. But for now, simple words was all he had. He would try to use them as best he could!

(Source: proofkiss, via salacious-musings)