Fortune Teller

“It’s hot as fuck,” she whined. The windows were thrown open wide and the fans rattled on high but there was no relief. Hot air blew over the bed like an insult. The damn heat pissed us off. Ice melted in the glass before I could walk from the kitchen to the bedroom with a cold glass of water. Everything felt wrong, but I’d missed her too much all week to hold back.

I’d been alone the night before and fell asleep before she made it home around 2am. She was up and gone again at dawn. I’d wanted to fuck her as soon as she got home this afternoon but the heat was too much. Too sticky.

We read in bed together, not talking, trying to enjoy the calm. One or the other would get up for more water. I couldn’t relax next to her. She was stripped down to her bra and panties, lying there on her belly. Every page she turned distracted me. She kicked her feet up behind her and I’d stare at the backs of her thighs, her calves. Damn, this girl. She always turned me on. No matter what was going on, I wanted her.

I wanted to fuck. I was angry. I was hot and tired. She was oblivious and way too sexy.

I tried to be still. I tried to read but kept going back over the same sentence again and again. There were her feet, kicking. There was her belly as she rolled over and out of bed for another glass of water. “You’re mine,” I whispered as she crawled back into bed. “Always,” she replied and rolled her eyes. Her smart mouth. Her attitude. It was hard to tell when she was serious. She could be a brat and I fell for it every time. Hard.

“It’s too hot to fuck,” I said. She didn’t bother with a reply, just turned another page and sighed. This is what gets me. I cannot stand being ignored. I can’t stand the desire rising up in me with nowhere to go. She loves this. She watches it build. Some nights she can’t wait for my anger and prompts me. “Use me, baby,” she’ll say, “do anything you want.” Tonight I bit.

“You’re mine,” I said and crawled over her. I felt the sweat on my thighs as I straddled her ass. I grabbed her hair in one fist and jammed my other hand between my legs. “You know what I like,” she said. Her mouth stayed open. I watched her lower lip quiver. I shoved her head harder against the mattress. “Fuck you,” I managed, intending a stream of insults to follow, but I was going to come too fast. She knew it and laughed. “Fuck you,” I said and curled over her like a fortune telling fish.

She laughed louder now. Laughed harder as I smashed against her. Laughed at my struggle to shove her further beneath me while I jerked off. Passion is passion. Anger, love, jealousy. Everything was mixed together in this moment, but it was jealousy I felt most. The jealousy rushing through me wasn’t angry. I wasn’t nursing a wound or some slight. It wasn’t the thought that she wanted someone else. I felt jealous of her easy way. The book she held. Her ability to turn away from me and think of something else for even a moment. I was consumed. I wanted her always. Now. In this heat. Always.

I heard myself scream before I felt the pleasure of it. Coming. Coming on top of her. Holding her down. Wrapped around her. Her lazy laugh floating in the room. “Oh baby,” she sighed. It took me losing all control for her to give me that glimpse of herself, her sweetness, her relief in seeing me exposed.

I fell asleep after that and slept for hours, a deep sleep I hadn’t felt all through the long, hot summer. “You’re mine,” I said when I opened my eyes. The room was pitch black. I felt for her next to me. “Mine,” I said and grabbed her. She rolled over and pet my face. “I’m all yours,” she said, “Tell me what you want.”

elust #84

Elust 84 header
Photo courtesy of A to sub-Bee

Welcome to Elust #84

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #85 Start with the rules, come back August 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Lightweight
About Those “Apple Thighs”
Why the Hell Haven’t I Rebelled Yet?

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

IDENTITY – hiding the evidence
friday flash–service

 

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Good In Bed

 

Erotic Fiction

Ride
Pubic Disturbance
Colds and Lust
Sex Machine
Chemistry
A Dirty Bathroom Floor
Tether
I’m Sorry I’m So Silent
S’il Vous Plaît
Edge of Morning
Dancin’ (Most) of the Night Away
Airport Arrivals

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

42 Kinds of Casual Sex
Living in Fear – An Essay on Male Entitlement
Pride

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

How To Give A Bare Handed Spanking
Reconciling dominance and love
She’s a Very Kinky Gor

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Run the good race
IUD DIARY #1 (1.5 WEEKS LATER)

Erotic Non-Fiction

We Made A Resolution To Make Love Everyday
The 20 Minute Orgasm
More on cunt, corridors & Schroedinger’s cock
Stoned Birthday Sex
Room with a View
I’m Not Done With Your Throat Yet
It’s a strange path to trust.

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Poly and Pets
mono-poly

Writing about Writing

Why Write Erotic Fiction?
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A Dirty Bathroom Floor

It started after a break up. I’d been with my girlfriend for three years. Too long. Too young to have been tied down like that. I was sick of romance and sweetness and boredom. I’d been sick of it for at least a third of our relationship but I was too lazy to break up with her. She dumped me. Left me for her boss at a temp job. A lawyer twenty-two years older than her. They were perfect together. Baking chickens on Sunday nights. Going to see free concerts in the park. She started wearing scarves with thin sweaters and dangly earrings.

I saw her a few months after she left me and I almost didn’t recognize her. She looked like a straight-ish version of herself. She looked at me like I was filthy. I saw the shock in her face. I probably smelled bad. I hadn’t showered in a few days and it was a hot summer. My hair would have been sticking up all over except where it was still smashed flat from the pillow. My uniform that summer was jean shorts, heavy boots, and a white v-neck. I had a new tattoo. She noticed that right away. On my neck. She frowned as she pointed her finger towards it. “Why did you do that?” she asked. “You sound like my mom,” I answered. And that was the end of that encounter.

I’d gotten the tattoo on my neck just to be ratty. I wanted to make the decision right then not to be a good girl. Ever. That seemed an easy way to do it. I was lazy about everything except fucking.

After she left me, all I wanted to do was fuck. I asked girls out all the time. I asked girls out on the subway, at the library, online, at the market. I liked meeting early for a drink. Early enough to salvage the evening if things didn’t work out. And things usually didn’t work out. No one likes desperation. Not on a date. Not like that. I realized I was doing it all wrong. I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. It was dirtier than that. Shallow.

I was out with a girl I’d fucked a couple weeks ago. She’d texted saying she was out at a bar near my place. I’d thrown on shoes, grabbed my wallet, and headed out to get laid. I liked the bar. They had bowls of pretzels which no one else seemed to touch but I always need to put something in my stomach while I drink. Plus it gives me something to do with my hands that isn’t smoking. The bar was a total dive. The kind of bar where people bring their dogs in halfway through a morning walk to have a quick drink. Enough dykes in the place to make it friendly but not an exclusively queer bar so I didn’t worry too much about running into people I didn’t want to see.

I was excited about fucking and felt pretty cocky about it. I’d already fucked this girl a few weeks ago, she texted me to come have a drink, it seemed clear we were going to fuck. I like that feeling when I’m in a bar. I like a sure thing. I ordered another old fashioned and grimaced at the sweetness. Why do I order cocktails when I always find the sweetness cloying? I drank and flirted. Looked cool. Fingered my new tattoo. Scratched the back of my neck. I wiped crumbs off my thighs.

I barely paid attention to anything going on. I drank. I drank too much. I smiled and threw looks around the room. She was talking about a friend of hers. I nodded and smiled and cooed at the right moments. We were two birds sitting on a wire. Half enjoying each other’s company and half waiting for something better to come along.

I stood up to take a piss and nearly toppled over. Too much to drink. Way too much to drink. “I’m coming with you,” she said and I grinned because I am the kind of girl who wants that quick fuck in the dive bar bathroom. Or anywhere. I will take that quick fuck in the middle of the dance floor with an arm snaked around me and a hand jammed into my jeans. I will head down the alley or into the backseat. I don’t need a cock. Fingers are best for that quick fuck. Fingers we can both feel.

She grabbed my head inside the bathroom. The fluorescent light flickered and made me squint and rub my eyes. “It’s too bright in here,” I whined. She shoved me towards the sink. “Take your shirt off and pull your pants down,” she said and I tried to turn around but she grabbed my wrist. “Hey,” I said, “I’m going to fuck you,” in a poor attempt to tilt the dynamic with one sloppy, drunk sentence. She clicked her tongue and laughed. “You’re not going to touch me,” she said, “Fuck yourself.”

I jerked my head to look behind me. She backed away. I remembered how badly I had to pee, but it could wait. I lifted my shirt up over my head and hung it on the doorknob. I turned around, unbuckled my belt, and pulled my pants down. “Stop there,” she said before I reached my knees. “Get down on the floor. On your back,” she said. I didn’t even stop to look down. I dropped fast and felt the wet dirt on my ass. I kept my head lifted for a few seconds but let it fall with a relief that soaked deep inside my bones. There was piss all around me. In my hair. My fingers pulled at my clit. I had my knees bent, falling open as wide as my pulled down jeans allowed.

She crept closer to me and kicked at my boot. She walked around me with a look of minor shock on her face. I stared up at her as I jerked off. My clit felt good but sleepy. The booze slowed everything down. I felt capable of reading her mind. Her thoughts were so real inside me. She hadn’t expected me to actually do it. She’d expected a struggle, a playful tug of war with one of us ending up bent over the sink. But here I was down on the ground laying in this stink and filth with my hands between my legs. She liked the power of it. She liked how the words came out of her mouth and I obeyed. She was already on to the next time. Thinking what else she might command. “Hey,” I yelled up at her. We stared into each other’s eyes. Nothing else was said. I came with my head lifted. My muscles tight. I rolled over and stood up with the words “I’ll do it” falling out of my mouth too low for her to hear.

I pulled my shirt back over my head and felt it stick in places against my back. I pissed before pulling my jeans back up. She stood against the door with a blank look on her face. I washed my hands in cold water and wiped them on my jeans. I kissed her hard on the mouth before opening the door and tumbling back into the bar.

 

eLust #82

Elust 82 Header
Photo courtesy of Teachers Have Sex

Welcome to Elust #82

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #83 Start with the rules, come back June 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Take Me

How Do I Love Thee:On Comparing Relationships

Asking all the questions…

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Erotic Fiction: Fishnet Queen

I Manage My Expectations

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

Wanna Have Sex With Me? – Here’s how
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Maybe I’m not a pervert after all
Bad Excuses
Engaging with Sexuality: A Personal Perspecti
I wish there were more porn
Cock Size: Does it matter?
Blue is not a “boy color.”

Erotic Non-Fiction

Watching My Wife With Another Man Story
Afternoon Cunnilingus & Birthday Sofa Sex
Why You Should Shave Your Partner
Oct 2014 Session – Mistress Claire
Two Days Later
Roping a cougarling
Divining Rods
Dorabella’s pink-velvet spanner

Erotic Fiction

Puppy Love
Quick & Dirty
She Says My Voice Changes for Her
THE BLINDFOLD – fear of the unknown
U is for undress…
Stay Baby…Stay.
kink of the week–glasses

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Slutfest Reflection
Love and Fairness
Winnowing
V is for……..
My heart turns blacker: the new rules

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Blast from the Fetish Video Past
The whole person approach to Submission
Down on my knees
Dominant Doppelgangers, Dominant Opposites
Four eyes
BDSM and Depression: Therapy or Self-Harm?

Poetry

Eden, Revisited: A Lusty Limerick

Writing About Writing

Stepping Stones
Centering Disabled Characters in My Erotica

 

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