Categories
books erotica women writing

My Books

My hope is you’ve enjoyed the stories and poems here and you’re interested in more of my work.

If you’re looking for where you can read my books, here are the links. I value your support and in return you’ll get stories which will entertain and engage you as a reader. If you’re a reviewer, get in touch and I will be happy to offer a copy of these in exchange for a review across the internet.

My first book

As Dahlia Bliss

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B089TWR21J/ref=cm_sw_r_other_apa_i_LAa4EbKXFYG00 In paperback now.

Categories
books erotica romance women writing

Nothing Keeps Me Anywhere

A gripping tale of passion, redemption and secrets from the author of 51R and Lessons and Tests.
John is a self-improvement coach giving a speech at a conference when he meets Andrea, an ambitious MMA fighter. When their passionate physical relationship leads to professional disaster for John, he finds a path to redemption through his involvement with Andrea and the training team she has built around her. When John’s past returns to wreak more havoc on the new life he’s built for himself, he must decide whether his love is enough to make him stand firm or run.

Categories
books erotica fiction love women

Nothing Keeps Me Anywhere eBook: Bliss, Dahlia: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Out now for Kindle in ebook.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08C7VRPF6

A gripping tale of passion, redemption and secrets from the author of 51R and Lessons and Tests.
John is a self-improvement coach giving a speech at a conference when he meets Andrea, an ambitious MMA fighter. When their passionate physical relationship leads to professional disaster for John, he finds a path to redemption through his involvement with Andrea and the training team she has built around her. When John’s past returns to wreak more havoc on the new life he’s built for himself, he must decide whether his love is enough to make him stand firm or run.

Categories
erotica love women

Rain In The Afternoon

Photo by W R on Pexels.com

She had been squalling all day. A quiet irritation and restlessness had lent an edge to her demeanour. He had noticed it as he put the cup of tea down on the table that it would build and burn her out, then exhaust her. He could ignore it, but he saw how it hurt her and wanted to do something about it. She lived in the perpetual state of warring impulses, defended by rejection with the weapons made from her own fears, abandonment. Peace and resources, touch and thought. Meditation and prayer. He saw all this and loved her, anyway.  She was not his, but it was his turn. 

The responsibility stirred him. She picked up the pencil and continued to sketch. Another issue of their comic book, working from his script but her pencils and inks. Last month, they had gone to the movie premiere and laughed at how surreal it felt to see the late-night conversations come alive on the screen. He loved her work and had finished the script for the next issue, then sat at the kitchen table and watched her work as he rolled another cigarette. 

She caught him looking at her.

‘What?’ she said. 

Her voice was sharp.

He watched her face as he lit his cigarette and sat back in his chair.

‘You’ve been restless all morning.’ he said. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

‘I’m not looking to define it but just acknowledging it is there.’ he said. 

She huffed and returned her attention to the page. He picked up his coffee and drank, then took a puff on his cigarette, which made his head swim with nicotine as he watched her. He could have gone home, which was a gordian knot approach to take, but he enjoyed her. She was a test as much as a celebration.  Most of the time, he watched her like the weather and dressed his soul according to what the sky of her predicted. 

It looked like rain this afternoon. 

He put the cigarette out and went to the sink, washed his hands and dried them as he turned and looked at her. 

‘I think you’re being a brat.’ he said. 

There was a playfulness to his voice which made her look up and pout. Her eyes narrowed and she set the pencil down.

‘No, I’m not. I just get like this sometimes. It’s not you.’ 

He walked over to her and shook his head. 

‘I know it’s not. But I know it needs addressing.’ he said. 

She fought the slight smile which burst on her lips like a sunrise. He tamped down his own pleasure in seeing the unspoken assertion of her playing along. Her depths were something he enjoyed, and no matter what else was going on between them, they played well together. 

‘Oh, does it now?’ she said. 

He nodded. 

‘Yes, it does. Now I have a responsibility to deal with it,’ he said.

She turned her head and pouted. He reached his right hand, palmed her jaw and splayed his fingers across her cheek. He felt her smile vibrate down into his hand as he turned her head towards him. There was no force in it, but there was power, easy and calm as she looked at him, pouting with a playful irritation. 

She grunted and tried to turn her head but he held her firm, grimacing as he put his other hand at the back of her head and gripped her hair hard enough to make her draw breath. 

‘Stand up.’ he said. 

She pushed the chair back and he pulled her hair again, made her gasp before she pouted and tried to pull away. 

‘I’ve been good, haven’t I?.’ she said. 

He shook his head and squeezed her jaw between his fingers as he stared at her. 

‘I decide that.’ he said. 

She smiled, breaking character for a moment, and he grinned before returning to an expression of brooding imperiousness. The delicacy of the pleasure he took was in its control. His heart thumped in his chest as he let go of her and took her left arm by the wrist. 

He walked her to the living room and let go. 

‘I want you to stand in the corner and think about how you’ve behaved.’ he said. 

She rewarded his attention with watching the delicious micro-conflict. The missed notes played often enough to become phrases in the symphony of her. She shuddered with delight as she lowered her head. 

‘That’s not fair.’ she said. 

He sighed and pointed towards the corner. 

‘Do as you’re told.’ he said. 

She snarled and turned away. He reached out and took her by the wrist and walked her to the corner, then put his hand on the small of her back, underneath her sweater and guided her into the corner. 

‘How long for?’ she said. 

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. 

‘Every time you ask, it gets longer.’ he said. 

She giggled and straightened up, put her hands by her side and pouted.

‘OK.’ she said. 

He got his coffee and brought through an ashtray and his pouch of tobacco, sat on the couch and rolled a cigarette. The air sung with tension but he absorbed it, letting the incipient vibration gather strength in the pit of his stomach. Looking at her was a pleasure and she moved her hips from side to side, knowing the thrill it gave them both.

‘Don’t fidget.’ he said. 

He lit the cigarette and made her wait for the time it took him to smoke it. 

‘I’m not.’ she said. 

He chuckled and watched her. The burn in his lungs from the cigarette mingled with the slow build of his arousal. She stood in the corner, trembling in silence, and when he crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, he stood up and walked over to her. 

She turned around, but he told her to stay still. His voice was thick, a growl from his belly. They spoke a language of playful restraint and tension, and for all its art, it was a primal state of grace between them. 

He walked over to her and brought his arms around her from behind. His right hand rested on her stomach whilst his left hand came up and cupped her chin in his hand. She pressed back against him, found him hard and ready as she pushed her backside into his crotch, revelling in the hot squeeze of his arms around her. His breath was warm against her cheek. 

‘Have I been good?’ she said. 

He grunted and slipped his right hand under the waistband of her cotton pants and stroked the crotch of her panties. There was a warmth seeping through the cloth and he petted it with his fingertips. She sighed and pushed back again. He grunted and turned her head, brushed his lips against hers which made her give a small moan from the back of her throat. 

He plucked her underwear to one side and opened her with his fingers. She sighed as he pressed his index finger into the liquid heat of her, testing the unspoken assertion of her mood with a small circle which made her groan. 

Their lips danced and played with one another as he stroked her in small circles. She brought her arm around behind her, urged him closer as though she could push him into her. He bucked back and she softened. He came forward, keeping the rhythm of his fingers constant and focused as her arousal soaked his fingertips. Each stroke expressed delicious, deliberate friction, and they built upon one another. She pulled her mouth away from his, and her eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure. 

‘Can I come?’ she said. 

He smiled and shook his head. His fingers found a spot which made her gasp and lean forward, palms to the wall as she squeezed out a plea for permission. 

‘No.’ he said. 

She shuddered and whimpered as she pulsed over his fingers. She pleaded with him and he denied her, knowing the anticipation was becoming unbearable and revelling in the power of being able to test her through his actions and their consequences. 

After her third request, he put his mouth to her ear and made her ask him again. She babbled through it, shaking with the war she was fighting, on the tightrope of an ecstasy which he took as his due. His fingers were a silken magic trick between her thighs and it was all she could do to hold on. 

He told her yes, and she cried out as she clutched for him. She pressed herself against him as she hollered through the pulsing spasms of propulsive delight, her skin alive with the crackling wonder of her orgasm. She felt, rather than thought, went into the place within where his hands and body, his words spun her into playful paroxysms of feeling. When the spasms subsided, they held one another in the corner. She kissed him all over his face, gasping and sighing as he enjoyed the febrile waves of heat coming off her. He petted her between her thighs, painting up her navel with her own juices as they kissed and murmured to one another. 

‘I feel so much better now.’ she said. 

He kissed her on the forehead. 

‘Good.’ he said. 

She glanced up at him and smiled as she stroked his face. 

‘Thank you. I will get those pages finished. You can get the washing in.’ she said. 

He grimaced and asked her why. She smiled and kissed him again. 

‘It looks like rain.’ she said. 

Categories
books erotica women writing

My Books

My hope is you’ve enjoyed the stories and poems here and you’re interested in more of my work.

If you’re looking for where you can read my books, here are the links. I value your support and in return you’ll get stories which will entertain and engage you as a reader. If you’re a reviewer, get in touch and I will be happy to offer a copy of these in exchange for a review across the internet.

My first book

As Dahlia Bliss

Categories
erotica love lust short fiction women

Animal And Spirit By Dahlia Bliss

Waiting for you, passing the time with a cup of coffee and a book. The words rise to meet me, but seeing you is tangible anticipation. We catch one another’s eye across the street and you grin with a naughtiness which makes me swell with want. 

You wear the chosen clothes. There were several lazy afternoons where you showed me the contents of your wardrobe and from those a soft, pink sweater which fell off your shoulders with your hair worn up at the back and a short skirt with tights. Your lips are the instructed shade of pink. Already, the idle daydream of how it will look smeared your cheek with the ball of my thumb. You’re wearing the red pumps with the half inch heel. My eyes wander upwards, teased by what your clothes suggest and hide, the full curves of you and the strength in your hips and thighs. 

My hands move to your hips as we step into one another’s space. 

My baby girl. 

‘Hello.’ 

We play with one another on many levels. In public, we use our given names where it’s appropriate, but often we are playing out our adventures. We pretend to be spies or thieves, child-like with our feverish imaginations. We look at one another and our eyes offer promises or costs we would account for later. 

Our lips brush over one another, feeling you soften in my hands as we release a drop of the vibe into the world. It is tender, making me shudder to not be crude with it. The control exercised is gentle,, but it is strong and violent. 

You smile at the book as we walk over and order coffee. We complement one another and we’re talking about the things we’ve been watching. 

‘So, I can’t believe how the interview went. I wanted to punch the screen.’ you said.

I grinned and shook my head as I ordered for us. Tea for you, and Americano for me. 

‘She didn’t do yourself any favours with it. It was funny, did you watch the video I sent?’ 

You always do, but I enjoy asking. Baby girl responded to little rewards. But your eyes were bright with mischief today, and I thought about when we would be alone and in private. 

We take our drinks back to the table and chat. There are no nerves between us but there is excitement and the control of it heightens every sensation. 

The rich, black coffee. The cigarettes we smoke on the way and the kisses we steal when we get into the car, a preview of the world we inhabit when we are together like this. It is not an effort for either of us, the exchange of gifts as warm as Christmas. 

My authority.

Your surrender. 

You talk about the stories you’re writing. There is a notebook to hand at all times, where you write ideas, often based on conversations we are having about the things going on around us. It reflects the mercurial grace of your intelligence in you writing, and we talk about the craft as much as anything else. I rest my hand on your left thigh as we drive and give an appreciative squeeze. My hands feel powerful, confident in their knowledge of you and what you respond to. 

We park and you unlock the front door. My heart is thumping in my chest as I look at your bum in the skirt and my mouth goes dry with want. You turn your head and grin at me as I smile and follow you inside. 

2. 

My fingers close around your jaw as I pull you close. We kiss, and there is hunger in it. A playful but intent desire to taste and feel one another. You nuzzle against me as I guide you to the wall and press myself against you. 

‘Oh Daddy Bear.’ 

Your voice is a heavy sigh before we kiss. I retreat and advance, taking your bottom lip between my teeth and biting down hard enough to make you sigh. I take my hand from your jaw and slide my fingers through the hair on the back of your head and make a fist. You groan and kiss me back hard. 

I pull back and look at you. My upper lip curls up and I growl at you to get upstairs. You ask permission to take your shoes off and I nod. 

‘My good girl.’ 

You smile and I stand back as you unbuckle them and takes them off. She walks up the stairs and I stand there, watching how your bum moves and the sight of you makes me throb as I walk up after you. 

I tell you to wait as I walk through to the bedroom and prepare for us both. 

I have blanket fort construction down to a fine art. I suspended the rectangular frame from the ceiling by chains and threw over the sheets we kept as materials. The frame has fairy lights wound around it. I throw pillows onto the bed and take off my shoes before I open the door and tell you you can come inside. 

You squeal and put your arms out as I take you into my arms. My hand strokes up and down your back, palming and squeezing your bum through the skirt. I rub my bearded cheek against you, like I’m marking you as mine.

You are. 

You moan and open your thighs as you ask permission to touch me. 

I nod and grunt as your fingers unbutton my shirt. You pull it free of my jeans and press yourself against my bare chest. Your mouth goes to my ear as I nuzzle your neck and grab your bum hard. The strength in my hands serves us both. There is the honeyed silk of your skin beneath you clothes, and I ache to touch and taste it. I pull your hair and you run your fingers over my chest, stroking my nipples to make me groan with want. 

I bring my hand around from your bum and slide my fingers inside the waistband of your skirt, through your tights and over your panties. I stare into your eyes and revel in your expression. Your eyes are black with arousal and you face is flushed as you look back at me, lost to your feelings. 

‘Whose pussy is this?’ 

I massage you through your panties for emphasis. 

You smile as you lean back. My fingers slip under the material as my fingertips graze over the ripe swell of my pussy. 

‘Yours, Daddy. It’s your pussy.’ 

I kiss you as I draw my index finger down an inch and you shudder as I brush in a small circle and you reach out to rest your hand on my forearm to draw me closer.

Deeper. 

Harder. 

I part you with my fingers and slide my hand down, letting the warm sweet oil of your arousal anoint me as you arch your back and I stroke around your clit with the care it takes to pick a lock. Such gentle actions explode within you, and it is the gulf between attention and want which I leap across each time I touch you. 

I let go of your hair and close my fingers on the arteries either side of your neck and I squeeze for a second as you moan and close your eyes. My hold lasts a second before I ease off and kiss you again as I dip my finger inside you. You soften and I circle my finger slow inside you, savouring the warm, wet tension of you. I kiss you as I close my eyes and surrender to my instincts. 

My fingers recite a poem to you, each line and verse builds upon the last, and I feel your responses, increasing or decreasing the pressure and speed in line with what you need. The understanding is unspoken in this moment we share. 

You buck against me and draw back from the kiss as you look deep into my eyes. 

‘Daddy, that feels so fucking good.’ 

I give a slight smile and stroke your clit, which makes your eyelids grow heavy as you moan with pleasure. I continue the rhythm, keeping my face still as I watch your expressions as the sensations build and you gain urgency and agency from the tumult of touches I cast into you. 

You grip my arms and stares into my eyes with raw want. 

‘Please, can I come, Daddy?’ 

I shake my head and you whimper, closing your eyes and bracing yourself against the slow wave of sensation building within you. We give off waves of heat in our embrace, and we move with one another, without losing the rhythm of the moment. 

You ask me again, breathless, and I shake my head. You whimper and lower your head, but I tell you to look at me and you do as another spasm of release dances through you. Your heat drenches my palm and fingers, and the friction makes you lean forwards and cry out as you stare into my eyes. 

‘Please, Daddy, let me come. Please?’ 

I look at you and shake my head. The denial does not stop my hand from where it strokes my pussy into the start of a prohibited activity. I am forcing you to accept my authority and you clutch at me as you cry out you will come. 

You buck against me as your fingers bite into my arms and I squeeze your neck to enhance the experience,  your eyes shine with tears as you shudder through an orgasm hard as a cramp before you sag against me. 

I do not stop stroking you and you whimper, whispering in my ear. 

‘Oh Daddy, I‘m going to come again. Can I come?’ 

I tell you you can, and you are there, crying out as you ride the sensation down and collapse against me. My arms throb with the action but I feel immune to everything but my authority over you as you come all over my hand before you straighten up, surprised by the riot of you nerves as you tell me you want to come again. I don’t refuse you and you curl over me, grinding against my fingers as you pulse and undulate into a tight knot of tension which you undo with a loud cry and your arms coming around me. 

Your breath, soft and ragged, makes the hairs on my neck stand up as I press my palm against my pussy and tell you you’re safe. You collapse against me and rub your cheek against mine as I slip my fingers from between your thighs. 

I bring my fingers up and smear them across your lips. You grin and kisses me before my arms come around you and pull you close. We hold the embrace until you suggest we have a cigarette and I agree with a smile. 

You take off your tights and we dive into the blanket fort together. We roll cigarettes and light them, and we lay there, smoking and kissing, talking in soft whispers because my voice carries through to the neighbours. 

When we’ve finished, we stare into one another’s eyes and move towards one another. 

I unbuckle my belt with one hand as I grab your hair and push you down into the bed as I straddle you. You reach inside my jeans and stroke my cock through my underwear. There is a red insistent pressure behind my eyes, the blazing libido honed into a point of perfect focus as I lift off and you reach out to push my jeans and underwear down my thighs. You reach out and stroke down the length of my cock as you look up at me. 

‘Can I kiss it Daddy?’ 

I nod, my throat too tight with arousal to speak as you tilt your head to one side and give a smile which makes me clench as you close your lips to the underside of my cock before you lick me with a giggle in the back of your throat. I sigh and close my eyes, reaching for your hair as you stroke me with both hands as you guide me into you mouth. When I open my eyes, you are looking up at me, electrified with desire as your lips close over me and you suckle me with a slow pressure which goes to my head. 

I feel every nuance, breathing with the pleasure of your lips as I pull you hair and tell you how good it fucking feels. I accept it and you murmur with pleasure as my cock stiffens in your mouth. 

Between your hands and mouth, I am clenching in slow, deep spasms of impending release. We speak a language of our own, seamless and silent as breath. I break it by telling you I will come and you continue as I take a tight grip on you hair and let go. 

It is flight without leaving the ground, a sensation which comes from everywhere and channelled into the music two people can make if they play in the same key. I feel the rush of everything as I spasm onto your tongue and you gulp me down as I shiver with power. 

I pull you up and kiss you, tasting the salt of my come as you wrap yourself around me. I push you onto the bed and you turn your head to one side. 

‘Traffic light?’

You smile at me and whisper.

‘Green.’ 

I reach down and touch your face, but you turn your head and scowl. I turn your face back towards me, keeping my fingers tight on your jaw. You try to pull away but I hold you down firm as I shake my head and grin.

‘You can’t get away, baby girl. I take what I want from you.’ 

My cock stirs against my thigh as I grab your wrist with one hand and push it down onto the bed. You kick against me, but I laugh and grab your other hand as I press my chest against you and kick your legs apart with my feet. She breaks character and grin before you put on your grimace again and I smile, with a bellyful of lust fuelling my strength. 

You lift your hips up as I bring my mouth to your ear.

‘I don’t know why you’re fighting, baby girl. I’m stronger than you.’ 

You grunt and try to push me off but I hold on and the head of my cock rubbed between the lips of my pussy. You bend your leg at the knee as you bite your bottom lip. 

‘Are you going to fight Daddy anymore?’ 

I make my voice hard and you lift your hips to draw me in but I pull back and shake my head. 

‘Oh Daddy.’ 

I shake my head. 

‘Are you going to fight Daddy more?’ 

You sigh and shake your head. 

‘Are you going to take this like a good girl?’ 

You ask me to kiss you. I lean over you, with your wrists still in my hands, dominating you as my tongue steals between your lips and you relax in my grip as I ease my hips forward as I let the head of my cock move back and forth as you gasp and lift your legs higher to take me in. 

‘Please fuck me Daddy.’ 

I tease you with it, slow rocking motions where the head of my cock gleams with your come and I feel the muscles in your stomach tighten as you express your need for depth and intention. I thrust into you with one deep stroke and you gasp. I lean forward and inhale you, the musk of sex, the wild honey and coconut oil you use. Touching you is a contemplation on beauty, but right now I am reduced and elevated to a wild animal of need. 

Her bear. 

I fuck you in slow strokes. My need makes me urgent and propulsive, and you breathe in rapid spurts as you close your eyes and moan beneath the delicious expression of my desire. I raise up and put my fingers on your throat as I squeeze. Your eyelids flutter and you buck against me as my pussy floods with arousal and you ask me for permission to come. 

I squeeze your neck again and fuck you with a lust akin to brutality, tender and terrifying in its openness before I let go and you ask me if you can come. 

Your eyes are damp, and your skin is flushed and glowing. There is a delicacy to you which makes dominating you feel such a rare pleasure and the valid proposition of it pools in my crotch as I tell you to wait for me. I lean forward and kiss you, tell you to let me know when you‘re going to come. 

Animal and spirit, a primal polarity which creates a cosmic, theatrical tension where we play with deadly seriousness in safety. 

You ask me to fuck you harder. Your voice is tight and you’re close, as I feel another throbbing rush of arousal flood my pussy and we lock into a perfect cycle of want as you tell me you‘re going to come. 

I speed up, releasing the control I’ve held onto as I pound into you, looking into your eyes as my head swims with the rush of impending release. You clench around me and I let go, the ache transforming into a sweet, unstoppable wave of liberation. We find one another in the beatific blindness of the moment, kissing to gain wisdom of our primal selves. 

You pull me close and I wrap you in my arms, tight so you can feel what is within me, too important to hide but at a point where my words would be too fragile to contain it. You sigh and we lay there, seeing one another before you draw me down into another kiss and we work ourselves into another puzzle of intimacy. Another game. 

Categories
books erotica women writing

My Books

If you’re looking for where you can read my books, here are the links. I value your support and in return you’ll get stories which will entertain and engage you as a reader. If you’re a reviewer, get in touch and I will be happy to offer a copy of these in exchange for a review across the internet.

My first book

As Dahlia Bliss

Categories
books erotica women writing

My Books

If you’re looking for where you can read my books, here are the links. I value your support and in return you’ll get stories which will entertain and engage you as a reader.

My first book

As Dahlia Bliss

Categories
books erotica love romance women writing

Nothing Keeps Me Anywhere by Dahlia Bliss (NSFW) Chapters 7 – 9

Start at the link below

https://mbblissett.com/2020/05/11/nothing-keeps-me-anywhere-by-dahlia-bliss/

CHAPTER 7

‘I’d like to continue talking to you.’

She gave a pinched smile. Her arms wrapped around my middle. Our wet bodies fitted well together, and my fingers raked through her dripping hair.

We left the water only when we pruned.

We found one another during the hours before dawn again. My fingers stroked her to a gentle orgasm that made her cling to me and swear into the night air.

It was around six before she woke me with coffee. She had showered and was in her uniform. As she passed me the cup, she asked what was wrong.

‘It’s strange seeing you like that.’

She frowned as she blew over her coffee.

‘You should see me fight.’

I nodded.

‘When are you fighting?’

She shook her head as she took a long sip of her coffee.

‘Don’t. I like you, but don’t say things you don’t mean.’

My smile was a challenge to her.

‘Try me.’

She got out her phone.

She gave me the date and my expression remained unchanged.

‘What time?’

She shook her head.

‘You’re so full of shit.’

My smile widened as she frowned, unsure of how to read my intention.

‘Try me.’

She told me the time. There was space in my schedule and seeing her again appealed to me.

‘I want to hang out with you again.’

She grinned as she shook her head. I watched the colour come to her cheeks again.

‘You’re so, so full of shit.’

Then she turned and kissed me with her hand against my chest as she put her cup down.

She got a condom from the chest and came back to me as she reached beneath her skirt and tugged her underwear down her full thighs.

She looked at me, gave me a grin that made my cock throb with want.

‘I want to feel you real close before I have to take you back.’

She squatted over me as she reached between her legs and placed me inside her.She was already wet and we fucked through the tender soreness from last night. My fingers grabbed her hair, but she touched my face and shook her head.

‘Not in the uniform.’

Our orgasms made us close our eyes to one another and her fingers bit into my shoulders. The stolen urgency was rocket fuel to our nervous systems as we shuddered together. We were a languid, soft eyed knot of tangled underwear and tender flesh.

 

Chapter 8

She dropped me off outside the hotel before she drove around to the staff car park. Ben sauntered up the steps beside me. He had an affable grin and his t-shirt was inside out.

‘Good night?’

There were black circles of fatigue beneath his eyes. He nodded.

‘Is she working today?’

He nodded and then smirked at me.

‘I didn’t sleep.’

A clap on his shoulder and a grin made him stand up and smile at me.

‘A gentleman keeps it to himself.’

He nodded as he looked through the hotel. He rubbed his stomach and suggested breakfast.

Terry omitted the bruise at his temple as he sipped his coffee. A cold, hard stare and then he turned and made conversation with one student.

 

CHAPTER 9

My phone pinged with notifications that people had placed orders for the additional materials and courses.

‘Thought you’d LEFT.’

She brought me over coffee.

‘I’m in no hurry.’

She grinned.

‘It’s strange to look at you and not get to touch you.’

She shrugged as she shook her head.

Something came to her and she was about to speak when a customer caught her eye and she rolled her eyes for my benefit. A quiet glow of pleasure went through me as I scrawled a brief message on a napkin and folded it beneath the plate. Our eyes met across the room. She gave a slow wink before she carried on taking the order of the elderly couple who peered at the menu with a fragile intensity.

Packing was brief, resting my case on the undisturbed bed as the sunlight reflected off the water glass with the napkin still artfully arranged inside it.

Terry was arguing with the receptionist as I set the key card on the counter. He looked me up and down before he shook his head and returned to jabbing his index finger at the receptionist again. She had a resigned expression on her face and a pang of sympathy went through me.

‘Namaste.’ I said.

It’s amazing how even spiritual sentiment can sound like fuck you if you intend it accordingly.

With his left hand below the field of vision of the receptionist, he raised a hand.

‘John. A moment of your time,’ he said.

I shook my head again and walked outside.

He hurried towards me and as we stood outside; the cigarettes came out.

‘I didn’t really feel you were present with the guys this weekend.’

Inhaling the smoke as Andrea’s observations returned to me, then a brief nod to acknowledge the statement.

‘I’ve been refining things a little. Trying to make it less about me, and more about them.’

He winced and shook his head.

 

‘These manlets don’t pay to make it about them. We validate them, your -’ he pointed his index finger at me. ‘personal brand, my personal brand is what they pay for.’ he said

‘Then tell them to spend their money on a good pizza and a fleshlight if that’s really what you think.’ I said.

He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes as he sucked on the cigarette. He patted me on the shoulder and I bit back the flinch that came to me.

‘John, has the little tough girl got inside your head? Thought we’d trained that out of you?’

My eyes narrowed as I turned to face him.

‘Terry. I defend you to the hilt,’

He smirked and my hands balled into fists. Terry was tall and lean, with overlong grey hair and a beard so he could appropriate that fuckable swami look. A vision of his beard matted with his blood flashed before my eyes, but it passed before it seduced me.

‘John, all that matters is what you produce. You’re sleepwalking through this shit and it hurts all of us.’

My eyes narrowed.

‘You know her?’

His eyes widened and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed like a Yoyo.

‘Who?’

A slight crack in his voice.

‘So, did you fuck her or try to fuck her?’

He raised his eyebrows and clapped me on the shoulder again.

‘John, the problem with sleepwalking is that you’re never sure of where you might wake up. That attitude is a direct path to the land of wind and ghosts.’

My grimace at the casual, lazy appropriation he used did not sway him.

‘Hey.’ He grinned. ‘You’ll come back, no matter what barriers you put up.’

He lifted his arms to hug me, but my expression stopped him.

‘Namaste, Terry. See you soon,’

He lowered his arms and flicked his hair back as he nodded.

‘We will see, John. A lot can happen between one moment and the next.’

He walked back inside, the cigarette stub still lit where he had tossed it aside. With the heel of my shoe, I ground it out, finding a grim measure of satisfaction in it.

Sympathetic magic, but it occurred to me that sometimes you can confuse the heel and the cigarette.

Categories
books erotica lust women

Nothing Keeps Me Anywhere by Dahlia Bliss Chapter 5 – 6. NSFW

CHAPTER 5
We had to crouch close to shower. My hand washed between her legs, but she told me with a shy smile she was still tender. She looked up at me with my cock in her left hand as she raised herself on her toes as she kissed me. I whispered that was enough, and the light danced across her eyes, making my heart thrum once again.
She made steak and eggs with a towel wrapped around her as she spoke about her next fight. Jennifer Edwards, from New Mexico and had come up with a record of four wins and one loss.
‘She’s a wrestler. And my ground game is awful.’
The fight was in six weeks; she was doing extra shifts at the hotel, training, eating and sleeping.
‘So I’m your guilty pleasure.’
She gave a terse laugh as she rolled her eyes.
‘Guilty over what?’
She flipped the steaks over.
‘There’s what, one hundred guys, I don’t know how many speakers, and you-’
She pointed the tongs to me.
‘-Are here. I don’t think either of us should feel guilty.’
She spun back around and reached for the eggs from the refrigerator.
‘I agree with you.’
I moved closer and my hands rested on her hips as she cooked.

She looked over her shoulder at me and grinned.
She dished everything up between us onto two plates and she found glasses. We ate on the floor.
The steak was tender and the eggs were vibrant with the simple addition of a pinch of sage.
She popped the last cube of her steak into her mouth and chewed.
‘Why do you put up with Terry?’
My mouth was full of chewed steak so a frown sufficed until a mouthful of water chased it down.
‘He’s been a mentor.’
She cocked her head to one side with brows drawn together, as she took a gulp of water.
‘Don’t you feel you’ve outgrown him?’
I held the last forkful of eggs before my lips as my eyes narrowed.
‘He looked out for me.’
That made her laugh.
‘Looks like he stopped but forgot to tell you. He looks like the type who’ll sucker punch a guy, you know?’
She jabbed her fork at me.
‘Loyalty is admirable, but it’s a two-way street.’
My fork went onto the plate and I folded my hands on my lap.
‘Yes, but he’s helped people. Including me,’
She sat back, resting on her arms and cocking her head to one side.
‘Sure but these guys are paying you to do what their dads should have done.’
I gave a brief nod before I continued.
‘A lot of dads aren’t doing the job they’re meant to.’
She bit her lip and looked away as she rubbed her palms over the towel across her thighs.
‘I’m sorry. That’s rude.’
I breathed in through my nose as my eyes shut for a moment. My temples throbbed as my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. Then, my gaze lifted and a smile crossed my face as she waited for my reaction.
‘I don’t take offence.’
My smile reassured her.
‘I don’t care.’
Her eyes glowed as we moved towards one another.

CHAPTER 6
She reached to touch my cock, resting it in her palm before she squeezed. She circled her fingers around the head and rocked it back and forth. It swelled beneath her touch as she squeezed me.
‘That’s it, slut.’
She groaned and asked me to hold her throat a little tighter.
I gripped her neck and pulled her forward to kiss me.
She nipped my top lip, which drew out a grunt of pleasure.
‘Don’t do that, slut.’
She gasped as her fingers squeezed me.
‘What will you do?’
.She gave me a pleading look and my nod made her grin with elated surprise.
‘Would you spank me?’
She let the towel drop away. My cock throbbed at the sight of her firm ass.
The corners of her mouth flickered upwards.
‘We’ll see what you can manage.’
My fingers took her hair in my left hand, pulling it taut. My right hand came back and swung it downward. It was a good slap, one that tingled your palm as you hit. She gasped and then laughed, swearing underneath her breath as she nodded.
She dared me to do it again.
The next blow stung my palm
She laughed and pushed back against my hand.
‘I think you should use your fingers on me.’
She gasped as she looked into my eyes.
‘Please.’
Flexing my fingers took the ache out of my palm as she breathed through the sensation, flexing her thighs as she lifted her ass up higher.
‘Open your knees and put your shoulders to the floor.’
Her mouth hung open as her chest heaved with each breath as she looked at me. She lowered herself to the floor and my fingers parted her. She gasped again as my index finger slid forward and she pushed back. My palm turned towards the floor as she came forward, whimpering against my touch.
She pulsed against my fingers as they danced in small circles around her clit that made her gasp.
She broke the reverie to ask me to pull her hair again. She told me not to stop with my hand and lifted her hips to draw my fingers deeper. Her hair was damp and heavy in my hands as more of it wrapped around my fingers. She squeezed and the contraction sucked my fingers forward.
She lifted her head up and pushed back against me. Her eyes were closed and her mouth had gone slack. She moaned and her pussy flooded with her arousal and the spot beneath my fingers swelled.
‘I will come.’
She shuddered as her breath came in shorter bursts. She grew more restless as she bucked against my fingers.
When she lifted her head, her face had tightened into a mask of anticipation. She shuddered as she rode the pleasure was within her. Without that restraint; she moved with a power that challenged my authority over her. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she gasped as she shook out the pleasure.
She collapsed against the futon with a sigh of contentment. She swore again, then laughed with relief as she rolled onto her back and sighed.
‘That was different.’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
She raked the damp hair away from her face as she looked at me.
She grinned as she got up and planted a small, soft kiss on my cheek.
She patted the futon beside her. She rolled onto her side and put her left hand on my abdomen as she stroked the fur on my stomach.
‘I will serve you now.’ she said.
She moved her hand up to stroke my left nipple again. She pushed the bar through the flesh and then pulled it back again. She grinned as she then moved to the right and repeated the gesture.
‘You’re quite a few firsts for me, tonight.’
I looked down at where she was playing with my nipples.
‘I’ve never tuned like a radio before.’
She looked shocked for a second, but then she saw my expression and laughed.
‘You’re such a dick.’
She brought her fingers up to my mouth and kissed them.
‘They get tender if you rub them too much.’
She chuckled again, and then she got up and my eyes closed. Her warm breath stirred the hair on my chest before her lips wrapped around my left nipple. She pushed the bar with her tongue. It was a pleasant sensation that made me bring my hand up to hold her hair again.
‘They’re fucking sexy.’
She took the condom and unwrapped it. She turned it over between the fingers of her left hand as her right hand circled the base of my cock.
She rolled it onto my cock with a swift, careful motion of her fingers.
She straddled me and took my cock in her hand as she guided it between her thighs. She dipped her hips to take me inside her. Her hands settled on my shoulders and she took me. She shut her eyes, trusting to the call of her body. The muscles in her stomach and hips flexed and strained as she swept and bobbed her hips in a descending circle as she teased out her arousal.
She became vocal as she reached her own orgasm.She drove her hips downward. My orgasm began in my hips and thighs, rising upwards to coil up my spine with each earnest thrust. She touched my face and her mouth twisted as she squeezed me.
Everything went white and a series of wrenching throbs made me lift my hips as she tilted her head back with her eyes shut as she gave a deep groan.
She sat there, her face closed to me as my senses returned. Her hands were warm on my shoulders and she took her left hand to rake her hair away from her face as she leaned forward.
‘You’re a regular Johnny on the spot.’
‘But I like it.’