Sarinah hopped out of the shower and checked her phone first thing. Water ran down her shoulders and back onto the towel wrapped tightly around her curvy naked figure.
Meet Felicity, a 30-year-old writer, LA native, and self-proclaimed “kinky submissive slut.” Felicity has a new Dominant boo, Jax. He’s coaxing her out of her city-slicker comfort zone and into his rugged terrain of camping and nature survival. Reluctantly, she follows his lead as he takes her through a series of sexy, romantic, and intimate trust exercises that bring this submissive slut to her knees, literally.
Warning: Contains explicit language and graphic sexual references. Only for readers 18+.
Gabriella, Gab or Gabby to her closest friends, pulled out the chair in front of her espresso-colored oak desk. She placed a piping hot cup of coffee down on the coaster next to her keyboard and sat. Her eyes trailed across the contents of the neatly organized L-shaped surface, and she smiled. Her beautiful full lips curling upward in satisfaction. She had just returned from an amazing week with Anthony, and he had given her a beautiful pair of Kate Spade sunglasses as a goodbye gift. She loved being his part-time girlfriend.
Enjoy this spooky, sexy fantasy. I hope it doesn't scare you too much! 🤭Just keep an open mind and try to enjoy it! 🎃 18+ Only Please!
We ascended the glass elevator to my hotel room, hand in hand, my pulse racing with excitement. Now it was my turn to set the mood, so I selected some sultry jazz tunes from my phone’s playlists. Moscow and I sat on the couch and discussed what was about to happen. • Warning: Contains explicit language and graphic sexual references. Only for readers 18+.
We sat on the rooftop with the city lights as our backdrop, devouring those sweet chocolate crêpes and sipping on wine from glasses that Moscow brought up from his apartment.
Sometimes, just the mere taste of fine chocolate can bring me close to an orgasm. It can be a transformative experience when I find myself alone with a tasty chocolate dish and a glass of red wine.
Moscow ordered for both of us in perfect French. I listened closely and gathered we were starting with a soup of some kind and then a dish with prawns and more red wine. The server returned shortly with slices of warm baguette in a bread basket. “Merci!” we both chimed enthusiastically. It seemed that Moscow liked warm bread as much as me. Well, despite his nickname, he was French!
It was an unseasonably warm spring day outside of a small café on boulevard de la Tour Maubourg in the heart of Paris, I sat taking in the sights and sounds of the city. In the distance, I could just make out the lights from the Eiffel Tower as the sun made room for nightfall. Cars rolled along and people strolled by on their way home or to an evening of magic in this city of wonder. It was shaping up to be the perfect Parisian evening.