New Poetry Book!

Hey friends, I thought I would let you know that I recently published a new poetry book: 6″… as in 6 inch heels not that other thing! What were you thinking about?

There’s so much to think about, you know? This collection covers about everything.

Kindle edition coming sometime soon. Thanks for taking a look! Misty

Delicate Tornado Part Seven: Red Wedding

“Dropping to her knees she unzipped his pants and released his massive black cock.”

Red Wedding

People always show their true colors eventually, but it usually worked out for this girl, at least in some small way. I could count my triumphs and my failures in fairly even amounts, but the experience of each blissful moment and the freedom of doing it my way and not giving a shit, well that was all I needed in the end.

The bridesmaids’ dresses were actually pretty lovely, not the god awful things most Bridezillas make their lowly subjects wear, to make them look ugly and stupid so that they could have all the attention and appreciation. That was a nice touch; they were red with black Empire waists, with black heels and vertical striped nylons. It fit her pin up style. Her dress was an ivory A-Line/Princess V-neck Tea-Length Tulle Lace with a black beaded sash, her hair up in a bun, gorgeous rented diamond earrings, necklace and bracelets.

My plus one was Connie of all people. Picture us: two vivacious blondes walking in arm in arm to my best friend’s wedding, who was marrying my former lover — well it was all too perfect. If the guests only knew half of what the happy couple and I had done, what my “date” and I had been doing lately, well they would have all gotten up and left.

At the reception we saw the man of the hour. “Wanda, you look great. Who is your lovely date?” he said, shaking her hand. The phrase “A thing for blondes” passed through my head. I could just picture the two of us taking down this dark-skinned stud, having him pleasure us out of our minds as he was fully capable of doing.

“This is Connie Exner,” I said.

“I am,” she said amusingly. You must be Shawn. Wanda here told me all about you.”

He took her statement way too literally apparently as he looked a little uncomfortable.

“I believe you know her husband,” I said.

“Ex-husband,” she corrected.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “Who?”

“Eddie, Eddie Blair,” she said.

He was dumbfounded, but tried to play it cool. “Yes, yes of course,” he said. I recognize you now from the pictures in his office. I should have…”

“Anyway, congratulations,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling and shaking her hand again.

“Well you must be awfully excited,” I said.

“It’s a great day, what can I say,” he said.

“I’m sure you have a lot of hands to shake,” Connie said. “We’ll let you get to it then,” I said.

Connie whispered in my ear: “he looks so delicious.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. But we were being so rude, whispering secrets in front of people.

“Ladies,” he said, “let me know if you need anything.” He looked us both up and down before he turned around and walked into the crowd.

“Look how he ogles you,” Connie said.

“I think he was looking at you,” I said.

We both smiled at each other, undeniably flattered.

While I was terrified to do so, I knew I had to pay respects to the bride. I introduced Connie and they shook hands and smiled.

“Really classy affair,” I said. “Fitting for such a classy woman.”

“It is, really,” Caryn said. “And thank you. I’m lucky to have such a great guy.”

I had to admit, at least to myself, that this situation had thrown me for a loop. All this I could have easily had, but I turned it down in favor of a monster. This girl just didn’t do things logically.

“Cheer up,” Connie said after we left Caryn’s company. She could always read my mind. “Let’s get drunk.”

We proceeded to do just that. Later on we went to the bathroom and who did we run into but the groom.

“I know what would really cheer you up,” Connie whispered to me.

“Hey, Shawn,” Connie said. “I’m um, in need of something from you. We both are.”

“Sure, what’s that?” he asked innocently.

“There’s a problem…in the coat room…” she said.

“What?” he said, still with no idea what she was getting at. I was starting to catch on. Fuck I thought. Was she really going to try what I thought she was going to try?

“Let me show you,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him in to the…um… coat room. It was empty.

“You said if we needed anything to just ask,” she said.

“I did,” he said.

“Well we need this she said, putting her hand on his crotch. She had no hesitation going for it. Instead of freaking out, he just looked at her then kissed her. Fuck I thought. Smooth Shawn.

Dropping to her knees she unzipped his pants and released his massive black cock.

I kissed him. “I wanted to say how sorry I am,” I said. “For being such a head case.”

I don’t know if he heard me or not; the lady had her drunk mouth all over his cock.

I was being stupid and drunk, so I kept babbling. “I know you know how I think, and this all makes perfect sense to me. I should, however, apologize in advance.”

I unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, massaging his gorgeous ass. He moaned as Connie continued to suck his swollen cock.

Spreading his legs apart I also knelt and began to tongue his ass; the poor guy couldn’t take it, became all wobbly and had to lie down on the carpeted floor. She went right ahead and mounted him, taking all of his black dick down inside her ex-wife pussy. He’d never be able to look at his boss again the same way. Or his wife! The two of us had a bad way of doing that – stunning people, fucking with their heads. Oh well, if they could stop us they would, but they couldn’t!

Connie’s wet cunt spilled come all over his balls, which I cleaned up with my tongue. This was such a hot experience! Guilt? Nope. Shame? Nope. After all, he owed me. The bride owed me too. I had to have him.

“Fuck me,” I said.

He managed to get up to his knees and I backed into and onto him. He took his sweet time entering my tight pussy until it was finally down to the balls. It had been so long since I had taken him but I remembered quickly. He moaned and moaned as he gave me every inch.

“Oh Shawn, fuuuuuuuck!” I grunted as I came on him.

Wa-wa-wa-Wanda!he stammered before he exploded inside me.

As soon as he was done filling me with his seed Connie slid underneath me and pulled my labia apart so that he could drip out of me and down into her waiting mouth.

“Good boy,” she said. He didn’t say anything, just stared in amazement.

“In lieu of a gift,” I said, “You’ll have this memory forever.” That was cheesy, but I said it.

I kissed the lady with Shawn’s remnants still on her tongue.

“You’d better get back to it,” Connie said.

“Yeah, you go be the good husband,” I said.

Even he chuckled a little bit. He could be mad, at himself or us, but why? We just shared a moment that was, frankly, unbelievable. I loved hanging out with Connie and Shawn was always fun.

He kissed both our hands.

Connie smiled and almost blushed.

“What a gentleman!” she said. “That’s what you need, Wanda. A nice guy like him.”

“I know,” I smiled. I know she was just kidding around a bit but it was also the truth. “I’ve had my chances before, but I always blow it.”

Delicate Tornado Part Six: Cashing In

I counted eight guys including my Eddie who were sucked by and who fucked me, and he was the last, waiting patiently to enter me.

Cashing In

“That wasn’t the first time I got paid for sex,” she said as I snuggled up against my friend the next morning.

“Oh…really?” I asked.

“Yes…,” she said, “well, this was the second time, and the first one was a long time ago. But I still remember it – every detail in fact.”

“Tell me!” I said, excited to hear what would undoubtedly be a sinful tale.

“It’s actually how I met him…my ex-husband” she said.

“No way,” I said, shocked. “He paid you for sex?”

“Well it wasn’t quite like that,” she said.

“What was it like, then?” I asked.

“It was in college. My sorority was trying to raise money for charity. What we did was…”

She paused, reflecting.

“It was so insane. But so exciting. We girls got this idea one night, how to raise a lot of money fast and easily. So someone suggested we fuck for it.”

“What?! Wow,” I said.

“We didn’t know how to go about doing that,” she continued, “but the details were worked out. We’d host a series of gang-bangs. Hell, it was the seventies, we could do what we wanted. Anyway, each girl would take part in it with guys from other fraternities. Each guy would pay fifty bucks to get in, so to speak, which was a lot of money for a college guy in those years. Anyway, that’s how I met Mr. Blair. My maiden name is Exner, by the way. Not sure I told you. Anyway, I was so nervous. I came out of the bathroom wearing a black silk robe. There were a bunch of guys standing and sitting around in the living room of one of the frat houses. A couple of the girls from my sorority were also there as chaperons. Otherwise I was going it alone. I was scared as hell, but also really turned on. I had a few boyfriends in high school but never was I exposed to such an overwhelming amount of testosterone. Their cocks were hard. They started to encircle me and I trembled. I didn’t know where to look. I felt a soft hand on my back and turned around. It was Eddie. He looked at me and grabbed my hand, kissing it. He managed to calm me down, stop my trembling. I knew that I’d be OK.

I grabbed his stiff cock and stroked it. He smiled. I smiled and dropped to my knees, taking him in my mouth down to his balls. I reached out with another hand and found a cock. I slowly came up and off of Eddie’s cock and looked up at him and smiled again. I took the other guy’s cock down to the balls as well. Then I ended up on all fours as another guy came up behind me. I turned to look at him and he leaned in to kiss me. His lips met my cheek instead of my lips, but I appreciated the gesture. He inserted his dick in me while another eager guy found my mouth. I counted eight guys including my Eddie who were sucked by and who fucked me, and he was the last, waiting patiently to enter me. When he did, I knew it was not going to be the last. He had watched seven other big men have me and he would not be deterred. After what seemed like an hour of fucking me, he squirted all over my hairy cunt, marking his territory. From that point forward he was my boyfriend and I was his woman. There was never a doubt. Not until recently anyway.

“That’s really romantic,” I said. “What a unique way to meet someone!”

“It was different,” she sighed. “Apparently he had a girlfriend at the time and she found out about our little adventure. It was over after that. All the better for me though.”

“Right you are,” I said. But then I felt an overwhelming sadness, thinking about how things didn’t last, wondering about my part in destroying it.

“I can see by your look what you’re feeling,” she said. “Please, don’t worry, I don’t care that it didn’t work out in the long run. We still have our kids, our memories. I think we’ll still be friends. From a distance. Maybe say hello at holiday time.

After a brief silence I said “You know that I’ve had a few guys at the same time.” “But I’d love a dozen! I mean, the more the merrier.”

“Attagirl,” she said.

“I could see the two of us taking on a roomful,” I said.

I love it when they come on my face,” she said.

“Me too!” I said. “They don’t forget you after that.”

“How could they?” she said.

“Listen,” I said, “getting serious for a second, and I know I’ve apologized so many times before, but I’m so sorry about Eddie. Mr. Blair. I never know what the fuck to call him…”

“Wanda,” she said, “let me give it to you straight. I’m over it. You’re forgiven! The way you make it sound you think it’s all your fault or that you had the power to ruin our marriage. You don’t. Didn’t. And besides, you were, unfortunately, just one of the items on his menu. I know it. You know it. You have to respect the man, he wants what he wants and he usually gets it.”

“That was the appeal, I guess,” I said, starting to cry a little bit. “Oh fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t get like this. Not over a man. Not again. Not ever again. But to think how he paraded me around – more like drug me around to the resort, often times making me wait at the table in the restaurant or the bar, making me wait for him like he was going to come rescue me, sweep me off my feet and, I don’t know, finally do the right thing and stop treating me like his whore. That’s what I was, no matter what he said to me, which was almost all lies.”

“Welcome to the real world,” she said. “I know it seems like I had no illusions, but from time to time even I did. Do I hate him for being a bit of a player? Fuck, maybe a little, but again, I knew what he was about. I guess I only pretended to be in charge. He couldn’t keep his cock out of trouble, and now look at him: a father at 56 to two babies he’ll never see, with two different women almost half his age. I think time will be enough punishment for him.”

“He still makes me fucking hot for him though,” I said.

“God fucking damn it I know the feeling,” she said.

We kissed, for there was nothing else to say or do.

“My pussy is aching,” she said.

That was my cue to do something about it. I was a sexually-codependent bitch still, but it gave me great pleasure to service the lady. She was everything, the queen, and an older version of me, or who I wanted to become by the time I got to be her age and in her position in life. That was why the sometimes-loving hand of the world put us together and kept me hanging on to her total soul, every word, ever pore of her body.

Seduction. That was the aura surrounding Connie. Mrs. Blair. Ms. Exner. She couldn’t help it. I imagine that day back in college when it came out and stayed out. It’s not something that can be learned I don’t believe — some have it, some don’t. I had it, buried inside, but it didn’t come out until I brought three dudes home and banged them all. And since then, sure, I got laid like the best of them, but I still didn’t know if I could actually seduce someone, effortlessly like she could, have them literally drip with desire, wiping out all other impulses, having someone want me more than they wanted breath or life.

I always felt so young around her, not just because she was older, but because I was scarcely yet a woman in many respects, at least the definition of one that I was working so hard on fleshing out. And what that exactly? I guess you have to start at the beginning. I was, at least recently, a little girl with almost not confidence, a noob, a babe in the woods always falling for the traps that men laid for me. But I wanted to be in her trap. I wanted to be in her ex-husband’s trap. But today, in this moment, I was free, or more free than I was. My eyes were opened to the power within me.

I wanted a shoulder to cry on and ended up with my cunt stuffed full of some incredible meat. Hard meat. And their come, all over my body. Better than a thousand kisses. To taste it, have it splash on my skin, warm, alive, holy, glorious.

I wanted them to grab me but not let go — never let go, but they always came and left. They left me breathless but wanting more.

She grabbed me by the throat and kissed me hard. I wrapped my arms around her to feel her warmth, her tenderness, but in addition her strength. She was not to be bent or molded into what you will, she was her own compass, her own gravity, her own storm.

I slid her bra strap aside and fetched a womanly breast, an eager erect nipple calling to my mouth. I glanced up at her as if to ask permission and being reflected affirmatively, I applied my thirsty lips to her tit, massaging and biting her nipple.

“You’re my dog, you bitch!” she yelled.

She always knew what to say.

“Woof,” I sighed.

Tossing me down flat on my stomach, she lifted my dress to reveal my ass, which she spanked with ferocity.

“Tongue my asshole,” I whimpered.

“Shut up, beast,” she said.

Pink Litter dot com Updates

Hello followers! There you are. Check out the latest posts on our new website:

Baby is Back by Mimi Bordeaux

Every Dream Offers Two Mirrors by Bill Wolak

Heartbeat by Mimi Bordeaux

Your Mouth by Francis David

Each Space Between Kisses by Bill Wolak

Sexhair by JG Cain

The Taos Hum by JG Cain

As always, feel free to send us some of your new work for inclusion in the new site! Did I mention it’s NEW?!


Delicate Tornado Part Five: Double-down

“She tasted, and smelt, like a heavenly sex, her pussy craving to be gorged and tenderized by these guys…”


The best bet is always on yourself and when you feel like you should people will flock to you, begging you to give them a glimpse, a taste of your action. Certainly I was high enough on my own list of priorities to give and take what I wanted and needed and the universe would be sure to sprinkle in a few glorious surprises.

“What do you want to do today?” Connie asked me as we were waking up together in bed.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I feel like having some fun.”

“Oh, I thought you might,” she said with a smile. She put her hand around my neck and kissed me. “I’ve got just the idea. Let’s go to Reno and have a blast. Play some games. Get into some trouble.”

“Sounds like the kind of fun I had in mind,” I said.

We showered together and got dressed. We both wore skin-tight leopard print dresses, high heels and black suede bags! We looked like twins; well sort of. More like sisters. We teased our hair and painted our lips a vulgar red, sharply done to highlight our bright and beautiful faces. No doubt we’d be a big hit in town. Regardless, we were in the mood to give zero fucks.


We went to a casino and a couple of guys who dressed like cowboys approached us at the bar. This was, after all, the kind of attention we were looking for.

“Hi there,” one of them spoke, tipping his hat in a polite manner. Don’t say ma’am, please I thought. He didn’t.

“Buy you a drink?” the other asked.

“Sure,” Connie said. “I’ll have a shot of tequila…make it a good one.”

“I’ll have the same,” I said. I didn’t drink tequila, but was open for anything new.

“Shots for the four of us,” cowboy one said to the bartender. “And a round of beers.”

Excellent. A chaser to ease us into the conversation. The drinks arrived and we all downed our shots in unison and laughed. Grasping our beers, next came the uncertain but friendly glances. Christ I thought, these guys are fucking hot. I could see the same thought on Connie’s face. I didn’t realize how hard it was to watch two guys at the same time not knowing which one you were more interested in. This would be a hard choice. If I had to choose. Fuck choosing the demon said.

“You girls local or from outta town?” cowboy two said.

“Well,” Connie said. “I grew up here, live in Phoenix. Wanda here is from Phoenix.”

“Actually Desert Hot Springs,” I said. “How ‘bout you?” I was getting into this hot cowboy thing.


Several rounds later we went up to the room. Was this really happening? Yes, this was happening. Fuck, the room was trashed. Two girls trying to get ready to look like maneaters. Outfits and shoes everywhere. Oh who cares. I was seriously buzzed.

I couldn’t get the key card in fast enough. I wanted both their arms around me, feeling me, quenching my fire. Fuck I was so hot.

“Drinks,” Connie said, going to the mini-bar and grabbing a bunch of little bottles. I didn’t even know or care what it was. Vodka. Looked like the guys had a whiskey and a bourbon. Connie downed a bottle of scotch. Fuck. I couldn’t tell if it was the booze or what but I needed some serious cock.

“So, business first,” James said. “How much for the night?”

How much? I thought. What? Did he think…did he think we were hookers? Oh man. Fuck me. I tried to think fast on my feet and didn’t want to spoil the mood. I didn’t think Connie heard what he said but she did.

“$500 for each of us,” she said. And if we swap, it’s $1,000 each. Sound good?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, $1,000 to get fucked by two studs? I’d do it for free! I was dying to hear what they would say. This was the funniest but scariest “game” I’ve ever played. It was kind of getting out of hand.

“Sure, ladies, we’d like to share the both of you, a thousand each sounds well worth it.” Apparently it was not big deal for them. Maybe we should have asked for more? Don’t push it.

“Oh, believe me,” I said. “You’ll never forget it.”

Tommy handed a roll of bills to Connie. $2,000. Fuck. She went into the bathroom and tucked it away. Coming back out in a flash, she put her arms around Tom’s neck and kissed him.

“I thought you gals didn’t do that,” he said.

“It’s up to the gal,” she smiled.

James grabbed me suddenly by the waist and kissed me. I didn’t mind.

“Looks like we got us some real friendly ladies,” James said to Tom.

“Mmm hmm” I grunted.

“Let’s share some of that sugar,” I said to Tom, walking over to him and kissing him, leading James by the hand. He quickly kissed Connie and moved down her neck as she sighed. I let go of James’ hand and put my arms around Tom’s neck and kissed him. We were all ready. Ready for some amazing (and well-paying) fun.

Tom suggested – or asked – if Connie and I would share each other, to which I said with a laugh “It’ll be a little extra,” He agreed. $300. Each.


It was all too much – the two of us: ladies in arms – back to back, or ass to ass, fucking each other with a double-headed dildo, each of us with a real cock to suck on – this was sensory overload time, too much, too fast, too filthy and way too good to pass up. It was then I realized there was no bottom to my search for pleasure, for pleasure was all I was searching for and nothing else. I gave the jailer the key and stepped into my cell willingly. If it was going to be lust that I was condemned eternally for, then lust it was going to be. The flesh, the moans, the friction and chaos: they were worth any price.

I knelt down between the lady’s thighs, thoroughly soaked with her anticipation, parted her silky legs and tasted her. She tasted, and smelt, like a heavenly sex, her pussy craving to be gorged and tenderized by these guys, but before all that I was going in for a loving inspection. If they only knew how familiar I was with her…and that we were getting paid for the pleasure. I licked and bit her clit. It wasn’t long before I felt James inside me, slapping his swollen balls against my ass and clit, sending me into a crazed, panicked orgasm.

“Fuck!” I screamed. What else could I say?

“Ass,” he panted. “Can I have your ass…hole…?” He was still shy, even after all this.

“Sure,” I sighed. $500 more. Each.

“Ugh,” he grunted. I think paying made him want it more. Unbelievable.

Meanwhile Tom was fucking Connie’s with her legs pinned behind her head while she bit down on his thumb so you could barely hear her orgasmic screams. “I want it…too” he said.

“Mmm,” Connie nodded, giving him the old big eyes. She knelt down on the bed and he inserted his swollen cock into her asshole. The two fucked us flat! It was hard to believe it, even harder to believe when they switched. The nerve of them, going ass to ass without care. We were ready for them to finish us off – or we were ready to finish them off so I positioned myself straddling her face with the two gents, one at either side. She still had the strength to make me come with her tongue while I yanked on their cocks. Finally James shot his first squirt of hot milky come onto Connie’s chin, with his subsequent blasts landing closer to himself and on her breasts. I jerked him until he winced, and then suddenly Tom shot his first sortie onto my pussy hair, with more smearing of her mouth and chin. My pussy and her face was covered in our men, sticky, sweet and too delightful to even describe. Fuck. These guys. I trust they got what they wanted…and paid for.

They collapsed. We all collapsed. I was nice enough to tell them that they could rest for awhile, saying “no sense in sending you guys back out there in your condition.” We were not good prostitutes, we were more intimate than we needed to be. Perhaps it showed. We enjoyed ourselves more than someone who has sex for money should. But then again, why wouldn’t we enjoy it, getting fucked and paid for it?

After awhile we settled up and they left. I almost missed them. Fuck, I did miss them. It seemed like I wanted that fix, wanted it again. I never thought that it would’ve felt like that. To be wanted enough by someone that they’d pay anything for it. Was that the perfect combination of stimuli? I knew I would never be sated. That wasn’t possible. It seemed impossible, but each encounter built upon the previous. Would there be…was there such a thing as the great volcano, the final, fateful encounter that would send me back to wherever I came from for good, shaking it off as some past memory, or was this the new constant, an unquenchable thirst that would be with me forever?

Delicate Tornado Part Four: Unbound

I had all I could of him, having orgasm after orgasm, screaming fuck fuck fuck after each and every thrust until he finally filled me with his hot cream.


You can be free anytime you just say the words and that you only ever enter into your binds willingly.

“Do you love him?” she asked me.

“Who? Eddie? I said.

“Yes, of course,” she said.

“Um, yes, I do,” I said. I felt it was honest, although I was scared she’d get mad. “Do you?” I asked her in return.

“I don’t know what that even is,” she said. I had to admit, when I thought about it, I didn’t know either. There were the feelings, the intense physical and emotional feelings that gave me an indication, the longing, the obsession to be with him, to know where he was when he wasn’t with me. There came with it the waves of insanity, the undressing so to speak of the psyche. The loss of pride. Of will. It felt like being thrown into a dungeon seemingly of my own volition but there was a fatalistic quality about it too, as if I resented or even hated him for the power he possessed, especially coupled with the fact that he could still go away and be with other women just like that, that he wasn’t as weak or obsessed as I was.

“I don’t know what that is either,” I said. “It’s such a…a…an inaccurate word. It means something different to everyone, and everybody argues about what it is and what it isn’t. But it can’t be defined because it’s too vague. Do I want him and need him? Yes. Can I survive without him? I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I can.”

“Love, to me, is an ideal,” she said. “How many ideals in real life do you know of? It’s like saying, at least to me, ‘I care for you when you are who I want you to be.’ The truth is much more subtle, evasive, difficult to pin down. We all want something out of the bargain – to be ‘loved’ in return. We’re willing to make compromises to make this work somehow. Really we should just be happy with the people we’re with, in the moment. We can’t keep them – make them sit still, not forever. Not without causing us and them a lot of pain. Don’t get me wrong, you can believe what you want to believe, feel the way you feel, you can lie to yourself and to others for whatever temporary peace it may give you, but I prefer to be honest, to say, I want you now – come here. That’s why sexuality is a big part of it. It’s honest, more honest than words.”

That immediacy she seemed to speak of was what I was after, but I also mistook that quite often for permanence. The man would leave. They always did.

“I just want to be with you here, now, Connie,” I said. “That’s what makes me happy.”

“And I with you,” she said, followed by a brief pause. “I want to do something with you, to you, to give you something, some perspective, some experience. I want you to trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I do,” I said.

She got up and went down the hall to the bedroom again, this time returning with a thick brown leather strap. It got me excited pretty quickly. Was she going to whip me? I would be her dog. Was she going to tie me up? I would be her hostage.

“Kneel,” she said. “Bring your hands behind your back.” I did as I was told. Let the kinky games begin I thought. She tightly bound my wrists with the strap. “Now, stand up.”

It was hard to do so with my arms tied behind my back but I managed it. She then led me into a room in the house that I had not yet discovered, a room without windows, walls covered with thick wood panels, dark, industrial-pile carpeting, the kind that skins the fuck out of your knees, with the only other adornment visible being a small wattage light bulb hanging down from the ceiling with a pull chain – pull once and a dim light might illuminate a face but not any of the shady corners, pull again and total blackness. I was still bound of course by the leather strap and was otherwise completely naked.

“Kneel,” she ordered. I obeyed.

She clicked the light off. Total darkness. But I could still smell and feel her incredible skin as she pressed her belly against my eager mouth. I kissed it repeatedly as she ran her fingers through my hair. My mouth wandered down to her pubic hair and eventually my tongue tasted her swollen clit, which was ripe for my affection.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I sighed.

“Open your mouth,” she said. I complied, finding it immediately filled with a thick plastic object I identified quickly as the life-like come-shotting dildo, the huge one I had experienced before.

“Fuck, you still have that?” I asked.

“Don’t talk,” she said. “Suck it until it warms in your mouth, until the saliva is too much to take and you have to have it inside you.”

That didn’t take long.

“Lay down, on your side.” I did as ordered.

She parted my labia with the girth that was just recently in my mouth and the remaining saliva and my domestic juices made it slide in easily, although I found myself swallowing hard as it inserted deeper and deeper into my pussy. All eight inches were in me now, she turned on the vibration function and began to fuck me hard with it. I writhed on the floor, skinning half my body in the process as I came in ecstasy. The sensory deprivation was utter, save for her tool and what it was doing to me. I thought of Eddie and the dark — the blindfold experience — feeling him all around me with his hands, his mouth, his eyes.

My next recollection, for it’s difficult to remember it all during the overwhelming wave of emotion both sexual and mental, was indeed just like being knocked over by angry surf as I hurt, literally hurt for what and by what and in what ways, in a manner I didn’t know – couldn’t fathom. I couldn’t really tell if I was alive or dead; my mind was active but I couldn’t be sure if it was a dream or my spirit was somehow carrying on in a sort of limbo, if not in a plain old black hell. I’m guessing my body shut down, locked, totally, and I drifted off into a sort of unconscious state, much like mental imagery, but with none or very little memory. I felt colors, saw sounds, vibrating inside me that were, I thought, audible to me and to the world, but it was impossible to tell. I couldn’t and wouldn’t speak, even if I knew the words. What I can tell for sure is I finally awoke, in the total darkness – if you can call it an awakening, to a voice, the known voice of Connie Blair.

“Wanda,” she said.

“Yes, I’m here,” I said, choking somewhat, not having used my voice for what seemed like an eternity.

“Good,” she said. “Remember, all you have to say to be free is to say ‘I am free.’”

“OK, I remember,” I said. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I felt just fine bound in the darkness, laying on my side, drifting in and out of consciousness. I could barely feel my body, presumably my arms and legs were asleep or completely numb. I wasn’t being stupid and I wasn’t pretending or even playing a role. I was just being, at the hands of my mistress, at the behest of time. I drifted off into some other space, a dreamless void with no sensation, no reference point.


I regained consciousness and sensed pretty quickly though that I was no longer the only one in the room. My heart raced. I could feel another breath.

“Who’s there?” I asked.

“No questions,” Connie said. “You have to just accept. It’s someone you once knew.”

I managed to get up to my knees with my arms still tied behind me. Someone I once knew. So there were three of us in the room. How long had I been out? Hours? Days? I had so many questions but no voice to ask them. That had been removed.

I heard whatever it was — whoever it was — breathing heavily in the dark. I could smell its almost musty qualities, and soon found my face exploring the inner thighs of a hairy, presumably male creature. His characteristics were not unfamiliar.

“John,” I said, after a feverish race to recall the name that went with the body.. What the hell was he doing here? I thought. I wanted to ask, out-loud, but still no voice.

“Wanda,” he uttered.

“Quiet,” she said. “He also does not speak.”

I was very exited. Fuck me. John, here, naked in the dark with her and me. I remembered well his lustful thunder. I needed his cock now more than ever. I had heard about he and Connie in the past, that he would visit her up here when I was having my tryst with Eddie. Everything fit now. Here I was though, thinking it was just us girls and liking it so, so much. But then there was a man – a wordless beast. What could we… what couldI make out of this situation? Anything I wanted to.

I found his balls with my mouth and fondled them ravenously with my tongue. A fat cock grew and lay across my nose and forehead. It was a lovely sensation. His sighs were all that he could offer and its hesitancy, resistance to release or expulsion – explosion, filled the dark room with a palpable fire.

I finally pursed my lips around its fat head and slowly engulfed his cock, feeling it going in my mouth and throat, releasing, spitting on it as it receded from my grasp, only to capture it again. This tug of war went on and on – who knows for how long, time had escaped me, there was only the now, and the now was dark, moist and hot.

With a final flick of my tongue under the delicate head of his cock, gobs of hot come flashed all over my cheeks, forehead and mouth. A beautiful thing, even in the dark. I realized that the lack of sight only intensified the sensation of feeling him on me. I sucked and sucked it, draining every available drop into my waiting mouth. It was so good to taste the essence of man again, and he was as good a man as any I had known.

I laid back down on the floor to return to my unconscious world, com-smeared, but in ecstasy. It was so good. So hot. So welcome. Connie had delivered me a special gift. The door opened and closed again. Not another sound followed, except a ringing in my head.

What was his story? I thought. A question. Too many questions. He had lost his wife again, poor thing. He was here to commiserate. To fuck. He didn’t fuck me. Not yet. He will. I will make sure of it.

She said all I had to do is say the words and I could walk out of here, hands untied, things returning to normal. But I didn’t want that. Not yet. That was boring, mundane. Nothing truly awe-inspiring was going to happen that way. Sure, I was bound, alone in a dark room, scratched up, covered in come, but I wasn’t a captive. I was here because I wanted to be. Connie had taught me that. Whether it was a good place or a bad place, I chose it. All I had to do now was wait until the door and the light to come again. So I slept, until then.


The door opened. The light clicked on. In the haze I saw John, naked as I had felt him before, and Connie, beautiful sexy Connie wearing a dominatrix outfit complete with long leather gloves, which gripped his stiff cock. She knelt, massaging his cock with her talented mouth, spitting on it, putting it back in her mouth.

“On your knees,” she ordered. She was talking to him. I was already laying in a heap.

He got down on his knees. I just then noticed he was also bound behind his back. I got up on my knees and backed toward him. She inserted his hard cock into my waiting pussy and I proceeded to fuck the shit out of my dick as my knees dug deeper into the carpet, my face rubbing against the unforgiving floor. He was also gagged. Good thing. He shouldn’t talk. Just kneel and let me get off on him, which I did with an explosive, gushing orgasm. I bucked him wildly and was so slippery that I fell off of him several times, but Connie guided him back in. I had all I could of him, having orgasm after orgasm, screaming fuck fuck fuck after each and every thrust until he finally filled me with his hot cream. Oh God… that is so good… so good.

She pulled him out and I continued to kneel face down and let him drip out of me. It was magical. Fuck. Fuck me. I was either going insane or becoming sane for the first time. How could I know? Who could know besides myself?

“Get the fuck out,” I said, once I had regained what little composure was possible, and some part of my voice apparently. I was not chastised for speaking. Now I wanted to be alone. But I also didn’t want this “nightmare” to stop. It was a dream, a fantasy where I could be anyone I wanted to be, for as long as I wanted to be. I was a queen, even though I was bound. I understood, if only a little. I, me, the Wanda that lived and breathed in this world, she was all there was. And fuck those who couldn’t be me. Fuck them.

Yes. I was still so angry. I didn’t know why. Maybe I needed to be a little angry. Maybe a lot angry. You were either a pussy cat or a lion I thought.


“Wanda,” I heard a voice whisper in the dark. It sounded like him. He wasn’t supposed to be talking. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “Are you OK?”

I wanted to return nothing but silence, but I was curious. And I wanted him again.

“Where’s Connie?” I asked.

“Sleeping. I’m not supposed to be in here, but I needed to see you. I wanted to see you.”

“You shouldn’t be here or talking to me or at all. Leave.” Was I just sending him away? Or would he get the game? If he would only be quiet.

“Wanda,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you. I think…”

“Oh shut up and fuck me like you did the first night we met. If you can’t do that, get the fuck out.” I said.

“Why are you so mean?” he asked.

“I’m not. I just have no patience for your games and your need. Give me what I want, now, or go. And don’t ever come back.” He was a throw-away. It didn’t matter what I said to him, he would do my will anyway. Oh Eddie, where are you now when I need you?

I felt his cock stiffening against my ass. I was laying on my side, still bound, still in utter darkness.

“Wanda,” he said.

“Silence,” I said.

I felt the swollen head of his dick between my ass cheeks and against my needy asshole. Just put it in goddamn it.

He plunged himself in, kneading my ass with his strong hands. He fucked me ravenously but tenderly, as I screamed and moaned in pleasure, writhing against the carpet, tearing the hell out of my naked flesh. I loved to be fucked in my ass — it reminded me again of my absent love. He wasn’t there, so I had to take what I could get. Why not have a surrogate? Fuck me. Fuck my ass.

“Come,” I said. “Come on me, now!”

I felt a hot jet of his cream on my ass cheek followed by more streams of wet warmth on my waist and arms and even my back. I was covered in him and it felt right. But that’s where it stopped. He was a fool. I couldn’t stand him.

“Wanda,” he groaned. “I love you.”

What the fuck I thought. I was outraged.

“Can’t you just, ugh, be less of a douchebag?” I asked. I was being a total cunt but it felt so good.

“But…what? Why are you…why do you?” he stammered.

I made it to my knees and eventually to my feet. I hadn’t been upright in…who knows how long. Hours. Days. I kicked into the darkness and heard a smack. I had kicked that fuckhead right in the face. I heard a thud. I guessed it was him falling against the wall and floor.

“You asshole!” I screamed. “How dare you bring that shit this way. You don’t know anything! Love me? How can you say that after you just fucked my ass?”

The door opened and the light came on. Connie was there, fuming mad.

“What’s going on in here?” she yelled.

“He came in to fuck me and then told me he loved me!” I shouted, like I was complaining to my mommy about being teased.

She balled up a fist and went to hit him but I told her to stop. I was ready to be untied. I said the words. “Free me,” and she let loose the strap. I could barely feel my hands and my wrists were chewed. I didn’t care. I was alive. I went over to John as he tried to regain his balance and attempt to stand and before he could I punched him right in the eye as hard as I was able, which sent him keeling backwards again onto his back, his cock flailing uselessly. I laughed at his sorry ass.

Connie flew at him and began slapping the shit out of him. “Can’t trust you, can I?!”

“Can’t trust any of them!” I chimed in.

After she was done administering the beating he so richly deserved she ordered him to get dressed and leave.

Apparently, I had been in that room since Friday night and it was now late Sunday. Two whole days were lost in darkness and near silence, yet I felt renewed, or even reborn.

“You disgust me you piece of shit,” I said. “You could’ve just done what you were told and be quiet, but you tried to schmooze me. Me! Fuck you!” Yes, I was angry, but it was part of breaking out of this cocoon. Never again was I going to fall for that nonsense, particularly in that setting. Of all places to speak love! In my dungeon, my dungeon! That was no room to hear his nonsense. He was lonely, pathetic and a liar.


I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in almost two days and I had to pee so badly. I sat on the toilet with my head down in my lap, somehow relieved, feeling a bit smarter and a lot beaten up. But alive. This is how you feel when you don’t stand for bullshit anymore I thought. A paradigm shift. Not that I wanted to be heartless, I knew that I couldn’t be that, but I wasn’t going to sell myself so cheaply again, buy into the unscrupulousness of those around me. Stand my ground. Stand for something. Make it work for me.

Was I being cold and callous? Maybe. But being demure didn’t work either. If I had to choose I was going to try to do it my way, never losing sight of what I wanted and needed, putting myself first, not trying to be what everyone wanted me to be.

Delicate Tornado Part Three: Bareback

“I drank the lady’s come, delicious and steeped in sanctity, truly a religious experience.”


To be loved, fully, wholly, properly. To have it administered to you, served up just the way you like it, as if in all the universe there was only one of you and a singular pleasure and that it could be given to you without threat, without strings and without regard for permissions, anticipations and maneuvering. This was love. This was heaven.

When I awoke the next morning the bed was empty but still warm. The smell she left on the sheets – quite by design, I’m sure, made me wake up almost drunk. I had arrived in Paradise, I thought, or in the very least I was headed there. Perhaps the deeper I journeyed into its environs the feast of pleasure would only get more tantalizing, raucous and soothing. Things were apparently as good as they could be between the Mrs. and me, and if that was all that would come from this adventure, then I would consider myself lucky. Certainly I didn’t want to be the bringer of ill will, the chaos that continuously followed me around. But here I felt safe; I definitely had some more things to say, thoughts to express, feelings to share before I could conclude the Eddie situation as resolved, necessary pain still left to be endured. But I knew in my heart I was on the right path, that this had all been ordained for me. It was, indeed, a religious experience, but one that would know new heights as well as uncharted depths. Such was the enterprise I was engaged in.

I thought of the other souls, men and women alike, who were so strapped, trapped in a spot where they had no moves, no freedom, no willingness to discover themselves. It was either too late for them or the time would come and go, tragically, without the simplest realization. It was about being happy in the here and now, wanting and having, taking and giving, all without regret. Mistakes were inevitable; I judged myself to be sincere in my desire to be taught by this life I was so keen on living: kissing, fucking, fighting, laughing, sighing, crying…whatever was required of me. I was brought up well enough to know I could and would endure it all and somehow someway come out the other end better for it. Not that there was any true destination, but I felt that I had already traveled far and learned things one can never learn by playing it safe.

I slid out of bed and ran my fingers through my messy mop of a head. Going to bed with wet hair is disastrous, but I thought it fitting. Who really gives a shit? I thought. I went into my bag to find something to put on. Not wanting to try to slide my ass into tight jeans I opted for the yoga pants and tank top. Then I proceeded to saunter out of the bedroom. I hoped I would find Connie as agreeable as I last remembered her to be.

I found my hostess sitting on the back porch overlooking the mountains, sipping a coffee and smoking a cigarette. It had been over 10 years since I had one but the smell was really tantalizing for some reason. She offered me one and I accepted.

“This is a gorgeous view,” I smiled.

“I love it,” she replied. “How did you sleep, hon?”

“Amazingly,” I said. “I only wish I could’ve woken up to you.”

“I get up early,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you, you were exhausted. Besides, it gave me an opportunity to take you in; watching you sleep was charming. I hope that doesn’t creep you out.”

“No, um, no one ever said that before though,” I said.

“Understand, Wanda, that you’re a lovely thing, and that I have not even reached the pinnacle of my desire for you. You’ll be brought there in good time. Last night was just a taste of the sensations I have planned out for you, for us.”

Here it was I thought I looked like shit and the lady was coming on to me before I even had my coffee. New sensation after new sensation. It confused my little head something awful.

I finished my cigarette, as did she.

“Here, let’s go get you something to eat,” she said. “You’re probably starving.”

I was. She made me scrambled eggs and toast with some great coffee and orange juice, which I ate at the counter area.

“Nice house,” I said.

“I love it here,” she said. “I grew up here, moved when I was 12, which was 1975. My parents built this house.”

Wow, I wasn’t born until 1980. That made her 53. What an amazing body for that age.

“How did you wind up in Phoenix?” I asked her.

“I married the man,” she said. “Eddie’s from there originally.”

So much for knowing something…anything about the man I loved.

“How did you meet?” I asked.

“Oh God, the usual, in college,” she said. “We both went to Arizona State. I was a Freshman, he a Senior.”

“Robbing the cradle,” I chuckled.

“You have no idea,” she said with a smile. “Actually, I wasn’t his first choice.”

I couldn’t believe it, nor could I hide my shock. “No way,” I said

“Yes, it’s true. This mutual friend of ours. She came from money, but wouldn’t have him, not in the long term sense anyway. So I guess he settled for me. I liked what I saw in him, and fell in love. He was always there for me. It worked. I don’t tell a lot of people about this, but we met at a party, got a little too drunk and wound up in bed together. He was workable as a lover, and it only seemed to get better each time.”

Thoughts flashed back, making me extremely warm. He, Eddie, was more than workable, he was the goddamn definition of virile and able – willing and able to make you beg like a dog for every drip of his masculinity. That made it both difficult and irresistible, to be in his grasp was suffocating but not in the way that you ever wanted to be not under his control. You became all too willing to be his, whenever and for however long it met his fancy. She knew it too, so it was perfectly understandable that she would be somewhat abiding about his need to share his sexuality with worthy recipients. I was one, luckily, but I fell for him in so many other ways. Some people say it’s easy to separate sex from love, but he made me want to believe it was possible to unite the two into one spiritual experience.

“Finished, hon?” she asked. I was daydreaming.

“Yes, thank you, that was delicious,” I said.

“Glad you liked it.”

We went into the living room and she lit the fireplace. I knelt on the bearskin rug letting the heat warm my skin. It felt glorious. I was into, really into the sensations I was feeling lately. It was as if I could finally relate to them and experience them one at a time. I had moments to breathe, reflect, contemplate and accept the realities of life and they all seemed more beautiful than ever before.

Connie joined me on the rug, and we sat shoulder to shoulder, holding each other up. She grabbed my arm gently, turning me into her. We kissed. I was totally at peace and feeling very frisky. She was wearing a tank top and PINK shorts with ankle socks. She looked so cute, and we were like a couple of teenagers on a sleepover. But there was an almost acidic, caustic lust that oozed forth from her pores that made me drunk – totally fucking drunk on her sexuality. We grabbed and stroked and fondled, rubbing, caressing, teasing, plucking. Like disquieted beasts, yet with a certain amount of grace, we found ourselves naked on the rug in front of the fire, sharing loving sucks and flicks of the tongue of each other’s breasts. We both had more than adequate tits, sensitive and shapely. If you were into a woman’s chest you’d need look no further than ours as prime examples of natural, gifted femininity.

The good thing about being a woman and being with another woman was that you knew what it felt like to have your body touched. While everybody reacts different to the same stimuli, I guess it just showed more appreciation for it. It wasn’t like a man didn’t know how to please a woman, it’s just that his technique was bound to be different, just different. More manly, perhaps, but not any less intense.

Connie straddled my face, grazing her moist cunt against my waiting lips.

“Mmmm, honey,” she cooed, bouncing a little back and forth on her knees, taking her pussy away and delivering it again on my desirous tongue. To tongue the very clit of my love’s wife I thought. Was that a bad thing? No. It couldn’t be. I thought about him – his cock, pleasing her endlessly in their throes of passion, his and hers, their wills bucking against all sense, making a sacred communion between man and wife, that was good…great for both. It worked. No doubt. I wanted that. Had I fucked that up for them? I didn’t know. Certainly I had a part. In any case here I was, devouring her pussy with feverish intensity. My lips brought her closer and closer – there was less time apart, and I was able to really grab a hold of her clit, securing it, sucking hard, applying lots of pressure, until she completely let go into my waiting mouth. I drank the lady’s come, delicious and steeped in sanctity, truly a religious experience. She had fucked me and tucked me in last night and now I was repaying her favors. I felt a little unworthy but I had to shake that off, telling myself that all that mattered was being here now with her. A grin appeared on my face and she could feel it against her saturated cunt, and we both began to chuckle happily, an air of relief filling the room, as if we had finally cleared all past ills, all negativity, all pain, and simply rejoiced in beautiful lovemaking. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

Finally we stretched out on the rug, smoking cigarettes and talking, talking about everything and nothing, touching on occasion, kissing, smiling. It seemed like nothing could disturb this union we had discovered.

“I’m so glad you’re here, hon,” she said.

“Me too,” I said. “So, so glad.”