Images of Inspiration: Roxie [mf, bdsm, bisexual, submission]

First and foremost, let me start off by saying that I had a lot of fun with Roxie. Although cautious at first, her thrilling and delicious journey into submission with handsome Ash quickly turned into a really rewarding process for me. I was probably helped out by the kind folks at fetlife more than anything else, a place where I had a lot of engaging discussions and really got to explore a side of me that frankly, I wasn't aware that I had. Of course, if you'd like to learn more about Roxie and her new rakish friend Ash, go and read about them here or here.

Image courtesy of gatsbywhore

Image courtesy of silentrage

Image courtesy of spicyrunnergirl

Image courtesy of wat-a-tease

And this very fine image, who I fully imagine is the very handsome Ash, is courtesy of steppauseturnpausepivotstepstep

Roxie [mf, bdsm, bisexual, submission] (Dangerously Dirty Diaries Vol. 2)

Shy and reserved, Roxanne is a paralegal at a prestigious law firm in downtown Toronto. She's a career-minded, no-nonsense young woman whose idea of a good time is a weekend in with her cat, Bootsie, and a bag of microwave popcorn. This all changes when a handsome young man arrives in the office. Ash is somehow able to to avoid the scorn of his aunt, who just so happens to be Roxanne's boss. He's also fun and flirty, and seems to love pushing "Roxie's" buttons. As much as she hates to admit it, she can't help but feel drawn to this charming stranger. The more they hang out, the more she finds herself aroused by the dark pleasures that their increasingly risquée chats tease at. In order to better understand what's happening in her life, Roxanne begins a secret journal that she can confide in, and explore this strange, new territory with Ash.

This is that journal.

This short story is roughly 9000 words in length, and contains sexy scenes of sexy fun between co-workers, the budding relationship between a newly awakened sub and her dom, light BDSM, and girl-on-girl action.

 

Available from Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Kobo, and Google Play.

His touch is so strong and patient, and he softly narrates what he’s putting into my mouth, detailing where the chocolate came from, how the coconut was harvested, the fat content of the creme, and so on.

Everything’s warm and hazy, like a dream. I’ve eaten about four or so of the treats before I realize that he’s resting his hand on my thigh. I inhale sharply.

I think he notices and gives me a devilishly playful look, as he brings a chocolate covered strawberry to my mouth. I attempt to bite it, but he holds back, causing me to blush. He smirks, and proceeds to trace the tip of the strawberry along my lips. It feels heavenly.

Feeling my cheeks flush rosy red, and without looking away I give him a little show. I know, that was very, very uncharacteristic of me.

I lick the tip of the strawberry, tasting the silky, imported chocolate on my tongue. Leaning forward, I purse my lips around the bottom and wetly suck it into my mouth, before taking a delicate bite, causing the juices to moisten my lips, and spill along my chin.

His eyes glaze and flutter ever so briefly. His hand squeezes my thigh ever so gently. We’re silent for a moment.

“My,” he speaks in a low, wolfish, growl “such a hungry little thing.”

My nerves are screaming and my face feels like it’s on fire. “Maybe. The strawberry felt so good in my mouth,” I pause, “…’cause it was so sweet and sticky.” His eyes flare with menace and he smiles.

I want to bury my face in the pillows. This isn’t me. I mean, it isn’t, right?

His hand rubs along my thigh softly, and the other brushes along my jaw with a feather-light touch, directing me to look back at him.

He’s beautiful. He’s so strong and rugged. And gentle and tender too.He’s about to speak, but before he can, I’m filling his mouth with my tongue. 

We explode.

His arms wrap around me, as I climb on top of him for our embrace. We’re kissing each other like horny high-schoolers after our very first sip of wine.

I can’t stop. I don’t want to. I want this. I need this.

His hands roam my back. I find myself grinding down hard on his lap. I feel a rock-hard surprise for me.

Ash’s strong hands cradle my ass, as I lean back and begin to tug my top over my head. His lips never leave mine as we tumble about the couch. I lean back on my thighs, and he unbuttons his shirt, and then yanks his undershirt off.

Wow. Just wow.

He’s got muscle, that’s for sure, but he’s also solid. A real man. He makes me feel so feminine. I want to reach down and touch him, but I can’t find the courage. My head is swimming with heated thoughts.

He gently takes my hand in his, and I demurely bite my lip. He likes that.

Ash guides our hands along his chest. I can feel the caged power that is his body. His skin is soft, but his muscles are so hard. I think I gasp, but I’m not sure.

I want him. I want to devour him. I want him inside me, filling me. But, I can’t ask. I’m trapped by wracking shyness.

Suddenly, my knight in shining armour decides to rescue me.

“Do you like what you see, pretty girl?” he’s tender and kind, it’s arousing, like seeing a super-hot single dad playing with his kids in the park.

I nod once, still biting my lip. Normally, I would’ve made fun of girls who do this, but he seems to love it.

“Do you want to see what’s under my clothes?” he asks with a playful grin. I slowly nod, forcing myself to breathe. It’s hard, since I’m so charged.

Our fingers are still intertwined. His hands are calm. Mine are probably clammy and shaking. I’m grinding on his lap. I’m hoping he’ll get the idea. I’m silently begging for him to initiate.

“Pretty girl,” he begins, pausing for suspense, “…can we see what’s under your clothes?”

I whimper a yes, my face buried in his strong shoulder. I’m riding him so hard, and hearing those words sets off the fireworks in my mind.

I would’ve liked the first time that we played to be more romantic, probably more Hollywood-ish. I don’t 

know, I would’ve liked to have been all dolled up, with make-up and lingerie. Although, as a former tomboy, I’d probably have to go to eHow to figure out how to do all of that stuff.

But I don’t. I don’t need any of that. He’s hard and ready, and wants to play with me exactly as I am, right here, right now. Something about how accepting and how ready he is turns me on incredibly.

What happens next is a bit of a blur.

I’m still on top of him, but my hospital pants are bunched up over the handlebars of my exercise bike. I don’t know which one of us threw them over there.

I’m grinding like crazy, my face buried in his neck. It’s warm, and comforting, and smells like a man: faint traces of cologne, Ivory soap, and sweat. It drives me wild.

I don’t know when, but his pants are off. He’s wearing snug boxer briefs that showcase his strong thighs oh so very nicely. He’s rock hard, and the fabric around the end of his bulge is darkening. Then, they’re off.

I love cock, don’t get me wrong, but I love the feel of it. It’s warmth, and hardness. Feeling it against me, and knowing it wants to be in me. So good.

I’m riding him hard. When I realize that the only thing keeping our bare flesh from touching is the thin, soaked fabric of my panties, I bite my lip hard. I want to scream out, but that’s not me.

“Lean back for me?” he asks with reassuring patience.

I do as he commands.

With a kind look, he asks if he can take a closer look at my panties.

I don’t know why he asks, because he knows he can do anything he wants. But I love it. I love fulfilling his desires. I love how he asks.

I start to get up, but he tugs me back. Instead, he slides the wet fabric of my underwear to the side, revealing my aching little slit.

I’m nervous because I haven’t prepared, or shaved, or trimmed, or…

And all of that fades against the chorus that my blood is screaming. I don’t care. I just want him. Any way I can get him. Now.

With one hand grasping my ass, the other begins to tease at the slippery flesh between my legs. The way I’m sitting on him causes my dark hair to part, revealing the pink slit underneath...

Images of Inspiration: Dani [teen, bi-curious, masturbation]

So, not that you needed to know this, but Dani's Dirty Diary had a very special place in my heart, mostly because the events it contained very, very, very closely mirrored my lived experiences in high school in the heart of Toronto. I wanted to focus on her mounting frustration, and the way that her desires toward women grew over time, as she was forced to recognize her developing bisexuality. Naturally, all of the sexy people I know on tumblr really come in handy with something like this. The following images, I feel, best represent the mind-set that Dani engaged in, especially for her more taboo scenes, in her very own Dirty Diary.

Image courtesy of scwhorpio

Image courtesy of tinybabeinthewood

Image courtesy of fan2fap

Dani [teen, bi-curious, masturbation] (Dangerously Dirty Diaries Vol. 1)

Young, attractive, and barely past her eighteenth birthday, Dani has her whole life ahead of her. Although she can't wait to leave high school and begin university, her strict Catholic upbringing has left her admittedly sheltered, and wondering about many things. Spurred onward by a close friend, Dani one day decides to begin a private journal documenting the sexual journey that she has chosen to undertake, as a means of better understanding the urges, feelings, and desires that she has, and helping her understand her own sexuality better.

This is that journal.

This short story is roughly 9000 words in length, and contains the steamy scenes of sexy solo fun that a sexually frustrated young schoolgirl can get up to. She masturbates, she makes out with her crush, and wonders why she can't stop watching girl-on-girl porn.

Available from Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Kobo, and Google Play.

March 7,

Had that dream again. The super-duper extra weird one, with the trees inside the castle, and the walls are water? Yeah, I don't know either. Hmm, I wonder... So yeah, don't worry, this isn't becoming a dream journal. The reason that something like that made it here is 'cause when I woke up from said weird and craziness dream, I was um, glad that everyone was off at aunt Delia's?

Yeah, I'm gonna get hell for sleeping in on a Saturday, but honestly, I was twisting and turning half of the morning sleeping off the hangover before I'd realized that I was naked. It felt sooo damned good! Just the fabric against my bare body, gently teasing my skin.

I called out a few times, and then realized that everyone was away at aunt D's, so I figured that I had the place to myself. So of course, I was hot too. I mean like, really hot. I was sleeping on my belly, as usual, and kept shifting my legs back and forth. Sooo good.

It feels kinda silly to be writing this, but I teased myself a little. I let my fingertips drag along my hips and thighs. Just back and forth, so soft. I tried pretending it was someone else, but I couldn't – all me.

After a while, I broke down, and, you know. I think I knew it was going to happen all along. I let my hand slide along my tummy, and parted my legs just a little at first. I was prickly because I haven't trimmed in a while (so much for that blind date with Todd. Blah!), but it felt good, and warm, and wet. I was surprised how slippery my fingers felt.

It's hard writing this kinda stuff, but I came pretty fast. Karen says she tastes her fingers when she's done and it drives Dean up the wall, but I'm sorry, that's just gross. Right? But yeah, I was really quiet too, because mid-orgasm I'd realized what I was doing, and that someone might walk in. Well, not really, but you know, could happen. Coulda been Todd. Asshole.

March 20,

What's this two entries in one month! Oh dirty journal, there's hope for you yet! So yeah, super-duper sleep deprived this week. First period with Mrs. Jacobson and she's all going on like a giant cunt 'bout my attention. It sucks. She's like “the school may rescind your university application if your grades slip,” which I think is total bullshit. Needa ask someone who isn't my parents. Blah.

But I mean it's not my fault. Well, kinda. Not really though. I was up super, super late, doing totally legitimate homework. About my body. And sexuality. Wouldn't want me to grow up and be a weirdo, right? Fuck. Can't tell them that though!

You try being 18, living in a body that's a trim and toned (ha!) sack of raging hormones, with a mind that wants to see how everything that's cock, tongue, or finger-shaped would fit inside of your body. GOD! Just freaking writing that made me twinge with desire. Yep, that's what I call it – a twinge. You'll know it when it happens.

So yeah, up super late. Big props to aunt Dee, because my new laptop is a) super fast, and b) all mine, so I can lock my door at night, turn down the lights, and twinge away! Haha, god, I hope nobody ever finds this. SO ANYHOW I'm up late and looking around. Finally went to 4chan, or whatever that Cory was talking about. That site, just like Cory, is fuckin' weird and creepy. No thanks!

Went to my usual spots, but also discovered this site where they just film the faces of girls as they're masturbating. Oh. Em. Gee. So so so damned hot. There was this really pretty girl, freckles and rosy cheeks, and thick, cute glasses, and I watched the whole video. And yes, you pervy journal, it made me really slippery. I dunno, I was about 70% through it when I'd realized how hot I was. Like, when I reached down, I was surprised how sticky my panties were. I yanked 'em hard to the side and you know, began to tease myself, imagining that I was her, listening to her moans and soft gasps.

Yeah, and then it hit me – does that make me a lesbian? I mean, I find girls attractive, like, physically, you know, like their form. But, I like them like I like art – I don't wanna fuck a painting, you know? I mean, I'm chasing Todd for fuck sakes, right?

March 23,

…and the week was going so, so well! Stupid Todd, stupid heart, stupid hormones. He’s all like “Dani, there’s this thing at Blair’s place this weekend, it’d be cool if you were there, you know?” Like he’s all too cool and awesome. Fuck he is though. Damnit. He keeps going on and on about how he’s got an acceptance letter from his “first choice,” and his “backup.” Dick. What a fucking dick move. He knows that they haven’t even sent them out yet. Fuck him. Yeah, I wish.

Might go, might not. What’s the goddamned point of being 18 when all you can do is buy lottery tickets and fireworks, but you needa wait another damned year to get the good stuff! Suppose I’ll be calling that wonderfully talented and handsome cousin of mine up, to place “an order.” Heh.

Oh! I’m still in love with the face-only jillin’ videos, but I watched one where there’s this beautiful music and it’s just two girls and one is giving the other a hot oil massage. Yep, that’s for me. It looked amazing.
I mean, of course, the girls were way hotter than me, but I think I’d totally be able to hold my own getting a nude massage. Jeez, hope nobody I know ever finds this thing.

But yeah, it was just so sensuous and beautiful. I realized that it’s probably not that I’m a lesbian or anything, but I’m just really into the aesthetics and the beauty of it all. That’s probably it. Yep. Mostly.

In an entirely unrelated topic, I want a hot oil massage. But, um, by a chick. I’ve had one before, and while it was nice, my ex was far too rough with me. Plus, he was a guy, so obviously, he only paid attention to my butt, nipples, and pussy, sloshed a ton of oil onto them, and we almost immediately began to have oily sex. NOT that I’m against that, but sigh.

I’d also want hands that knew how to touch, and when. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want any attention. Cause let’s face it, “massage a chick, she’ll sit on your dick.” Hahaha, shit can’t believe I wrote that.

Back to the massage video. I know it was staged, but the girls looked so content. I want to be wanted like that. I want to have hands upon my body. Soft, feminine hands that aren’t concerned with sticking fingers inside of my body, or using me for sex, but hands that will appreciate my flesh, and worship me. Yes, I said it.

I want that so badly. Strong and smooth hands that can trace the contours of my naked body, appreciating my body, and feeling my curves. I’d have to be vulnerable to a degree I’m unsure I’m okay with, but I know it would feel so damned good.

Not that you’d know it, but I wrote, deleted, and re-wrote this next sentence about seven times before I was okay with it, but, I’m kinda wondering how a different a girl might feel. Um, you know, in that way. It’s just that in the video, she was so gentle and caring, uh, all the way through.

I liked that part. Probably more than I care to admit.

I’ve bookmarked the video, and have gone back to it for the past five days. Like, five in a row. I don’t watch the first part anymore, and just skip ahead to when the girl is laying on the table. Just her and her beautifully toned body. As a former gym-rat, hopeful cheerleader, and yoga-addict, I can definitely appreciate how long it took, and how hard she’s worked to get a body like that.

But even more than that, I’ve started to see these little signals that she gives off.

Maybe it’s just in my head, but she almost pushes her buns up when the masseuse is caressing oily hands over her skin. I know that feeling – you want something so badly, but you can’t ask for it. As she lies on the table, her gasps barely float out past her lips. It’s, um… interesting? Yeah, let’s just go with that.

They focus on her face for a bit, and you can see her eyes are closed, not tight, but closed. She’s clearly enjoying it. Her breathing gets deeper, and it’s almost like she’s focusing carefully on what’s happening to her. I know exactly what she’s focusing on.

I’ve memorized what happens next. The masseuse drags her nails down the back of the girl’s thighs. She shivers. Well, I assume she does, because it makes ME shiver each and every time I see it.

And then, without any warning, or break with the flow of the massage, the masseuse casually spreads the girl’s thighs ever so slightly, and begins running her slippery fingers alongside her pouty little slit.

I’m not going to lie, the second time I watched it, I immediately came at that part. Not the first, cause I didn’t know what was coming up. The first time I crossed my legs as tightly as they would go and savoured the warmth it brought me. But yeah, the second, I stopped edging myself and let my fingers sink into my pussy. I came so fast and hard it was like a floodgate breaking. It’s that damned good.

The masseuse teases her perfectly, as her skilled hands tease and frame the girl’s pussy perfectly. Her lips are curled out and slippery, part from the oil, and part from how turned on she is. That’s big for me – girls in porn that are completely 100% aroused and into what they’re doing. You can’t fake that. Trust me.

Something else too. Hard to explain, but I’ll try: I mean, at that point, a guy would’ve just drilled his fingers in. And it’s not that I don’t want that at times, I just don’t want that ALL the time.

With girls, I mean, you know, from what I’ve seen, there’s no forcing of anything, there’s just two bodies working together, helping one another to achieve a toe-curling orgasm. Damn. And they just go and go and go and don’t need to wait for their boner to come back. Double damn.

Anyways, the masseuse clearly knows what she’s doing. She knows and understands the soft, sculpted body in front of her, how it works, and where the girl needs to be. I dunno, it’s like there’s a deeper connection between them, so that by the time she does slide her fingers in, it’s wordless, it’s natural… god that must be so nice.

And fucking hell does that girl cum hard! Her fingers dig into the fabric of the massage table and she just silently moans, as she kicks her legs out. Her hips thrust hard against the table, causing her bum to jiggle softly.

It’s not fake like most porn… well, I know it is, but it’s a lot less “fake” that most porn. The orgasm that the masseuse gives her is natural, and beautiful. It’s like her body is rewarding her. I like that.

I sort of I want… something like that.

To be encouraged like that, and rewarded for sharing my body with soft hands that know what they’re doing, that know what a girl wants. What a girl needs.

Not that you need to know this, but the previous few sentences of this entry was actually written three days after the entry, because I had a lot to think about. You know, I know who I am, and what I like, but sometimes, like these last three days, I wonder.

I guess it’s just that the more I’ve been thinking about that video, the more I wonder, as hard as it might be to admit, or what it means, what it would be like to feel soft feminine hands… upon my flesh, and um, inside my body. You know, that weren’t my own.

Fuck.