Invocation à l’amour. Chant philosophique published in France in 1825.
Invocation à l’amour. Chant philosophique published in France in 1825.
I take you between my lips. That amazing first contact where you are dry, and I salivate for it! I kiss and lick every inch until you are drenched in my saliva. I can tell you want more. I let my panties slide down so I can place you in my warm slit. I ride you intensely. I stroke my clit while your hard cock penetrates me. I know it makes you throb, even more, creating pure pleasure. We both can’t take it anymore. I let you cum all over my pussy. – Piper Blush
Found this blog that writes erotica and its called Molly’s Daily Kiss. Here’s an ‘avant-goût’!
I am lost in the moment. The sounds, the smell, the taste of you assaults my senses. I listen to the soft growling noises you make; they teach me your rhythm, your pleasure. The musky smell of your sex fills my nostrils, and somewhere in there too I can smell my arousal rising from between my thighs to mingle with yours. On my tongue, there is the subtle hint of your taste from those precious little droplets of your desire, but I want more. I want you to come in my mouth.
Get even more aroused, read the full erotic story HERE!
Ladyes, thou dost little know the height of his love
When thou garbs’t thyself the morning after
In his manly apparel
Which serve only to heighten the fairness of thy
Beauteous, freckled bosom
And show the ripe perfections of thy legs
And cause great increase of desire in those vulgar parts
We shall not here name.
And you silently tipped the ice-cube down his shirt. The ice-cube was cold. His body was hot. The cold ice-cube felt good inside his shirt. He didn’t feel hot. The sun began to beat down on the man, and the shirt, and the ice. The ice-cube began to melt. It was not a bad feeling. It was a tingly feeling.
When he journeys to your wine-dark caverns, he must be bidden as surely as any sailor; proud Odysseus must take you for his guide, his Muse—else he will be wrecked between the Scylla of your wrath and the Charybdis of your indifference, and never land his stout craft on your happy isle.
Little lace underthings most scrumsy, and little black dress allwhimsy, for the dinner, the stately sloshingdinner date, the tremblyponderousdinnerdate, the sighs, the frowns, the silences, the touching of hand to hand like mothfeelers under the shrinking tablecloth… ah the yesyeskissings on the doorstep! The retreatings! Muciny! O ciel!
With a frightfully shy chappie like myself, one has to have a bit of buck and fizz to make the thing go, and there’s no denying we like a bit of a commanding hand in the bedroom, whether on top or below. A really enterprising topper of a girl could manage things nicely, but it does require a dash of Jeeves-like finesse. Speaking of, stop me if I’ve told you the story of Honoria Glossop and the cats in the bedroom…
O Daughter of Mary, begat by Jezebel and also Eve, arise, and go unto he who is waiting in the foyer. Remember that he who waits without is the truest lover. He who does not call is plagued by doubt, doubt that casts his mind into shadow. He who doubts is like the sea, eternally tossing, slave to each new wave of women that crosses his path. Yea, he is tempted by new daughters; he is a slave to empty desires. Avoid temptation, my daughter; avoid he who runs away; he who doubts. Rise up, my daughters and sing the praises of he who waits without.
My lovely young girls, my darling rose-flushed young girls, my dearest darling tender soft-armed dreamy young girls, I am quite undone when with that shy ladylike demeanor you text me filthy things on my iPhone through the long and cruel day. I long—longing that you would never understand, my darling—for the moment when I can rush home and touch the waiting petal, the penumbra, the pinkest rosebud.
Tell him Goodbye, goodbye forever, when your feet can no longer tread the waiting Road together! It is twilight and the shadows begin to grow long: a boyfriend would not come amiss in the great evenfall. But in that darkness when all things are forgotten, you shall still be consoled by the light of the Ring he gave you in a happier time, and return dignified: a great, a proud, a single woman.
A very talented fellow erotica writer, M. Guy Neashlen, of Piper Blush wrote this very explicit piece of erotica for her.
She decided to share it with you, enjoy the read
I often think back on how grateful I am to have such a different and exciting life; with everything my work brings. While thinking of this yesterday, I happened to remember the very first man who educated me and brought me the delicious love for what a do. A man a lot older than myself at the time.
It may surprise anyone reading this that I was brought up in quite a strict Catholic family and went to an all girl’s school with no contact with boys except for those in my neighbourhood and also who I would watch slyly out of the corner of my eye when attending mass.
One person who did explode into my life was a young priest. Strikingly handsome in his mid-forties I would guess now and with the looks of Montgomery Clift in the film, ‘I Confess.’
He was transferred to our area from his previous to become the deacon of the church, mentor to the girls and teacher of French at my convent run all girl’s school St. Anthony’s.
In those days there would be no thought that there could be anything amiss with having a handsome man teaching to the hormonally charged girls who hung on his every word and syllable that slid from his full lips and square dimpled jaw. I recall our amusement and inspiration which was something that ached between young girl’s thighs as they tingled especially when using a phrase, he seemed oblivious that he was using in many of his sentences as he spoke ‘on the hole.’
The girls would snigger and sigh at this, and I would swear that after each lesson and the schoolroom had emptied the distinct scent in the room was not of Father Dane’s cologne put of the dampened knickers he had been the instigator of. Whether he knew this or perhaps or relished it as he floated out of the room with his nostrils flared taking in every delicious scent of our young pussies I can never know.
I vividly remember my first interaction with him on a windy autumnal day and as I was rushing to a lesson. I slipped and fell on stair into our main building. He was just leaving and came to my aid immediately. I remember how he put his hand on my grazed knee and asked with concern ‘Piper; I hope this is only your pride that is hurt.’ His thick finger touched the graze to check how bad the injury was and I watched as he then wrapped his hand around my knee to examine further. As he did, I looked at his thick black hair and knew now was my moment to find out whether I was in Father Dane’s mind as sexually as he was in mine. So as he kneeled, I discretely widened my thighs until my white school knickers would be on clear display to him.
Much to my disappointment he didn’t make any noticeable eye movement to the now wet white cotton but moved his finger to the black choker necklace I was wearing around my neck, something I loved but knew it broke the school uniform code. He slipped a finger between the black velvet and my neck and looked at me sternly. ‘Piper you should be okay, but this is not acceptable,’ the words of this sentence spoken sternly as he looked me directly in the eye. He lifted me from the ground with his finger still between my neck and the choker said firmly ‘I only want to see you wearing this out of school hours. Is that understand Piper?’ His eyebrow lifted, and I tried to read as much as I could into his words, but before I could answer back the bell had rung for the next lesson, and he was gone. Leaving me with a pounding heart and now my school knickers so wet I was unsure if they were from his presence or the school ground floor. Either way, I welcomed the delicious feeling, and from then I was completely hooked.
One day as my luck would have it I was sent to his office for being persistently late for class. At the time I had no idea that this day would become such a pivotal moment in my life.
As I sat in a firm wooden chair opposite his desk, he looked me in the eye and made me feel like a woman with his now masterful demeanour. With his back to me, he opened a drawer in his beautiful walnut desk and pulled out a wooden ruler. His voice was calm as he let me know I would require punishment and I nodded in compliance, my juices trickling slowly into the crotch of my panties. My face became warm, and I tried hard to suppress a smile as he summoned me to over to his desk.
My heart sank a little when he instructed me to place my palms on the table, for I was hoping he would bend me over and smack my bottom, catching a glimpse of the wet spot on my panties in the process.
In an instant, it seemed as if our minds met. Perhaps he could smell how much I wanted more than a smack on my palms, and I watched as in silence he calmly walked to the door of his study and on shutting the door also slowly turned the key. It seems strange but even now just the sound of a key turning in a lock will remind me of this moment and make me tingle and flushed.
“Piper, please stand, but with the front of your body onto my desk, palms forward. I need you to understand how your behaviour warrants particular attention,” his voice was deep, calm but I sensed a quiver of excitement as my body instinctively moved over his desk, and I lay facing down with my bottom now pointing upward.
He didn’t touch me, and only the ruler was used to lift the hem of my pleated skirt over my white wetted knickers. It revealed the soft pale skin of my bottom where the elastic stopped and displayed to him an area which I felt his eyes first pour over, breath in before I then felt the smacks; four in total, two on each cheek of my bottom.
The pain was incredible, and with each whack, a shudder of pleasure ran through my young pussy, and I felt my nipples harden on his desk. I wanted more and as he then bade me stand he calmly unlocked the door and without a word said between us I left. The lack of any words to me confirmed my desires as I looked at the pleasure in his eyes.
My knees trembled as I slowly made my way back to class stopping off at the washrooms to see the red marks on my bottom. As I peeled my knickers down to my ankles a slither of clear viscous fluid followed the material down and in my exhilaration, I took some of my wetness and rubbed it onto the area the ruler had left its mark. It wasn’t a new experience for me to masturbate in the washroom, but this day was special, and the orgasm that rushed through my body eventually made me want to scream out his name and run back to his study.
Returning to class no-one gave a second thought to my flushed cheeks. I made my way back to my desk and thought of nothing else but the look of pleasure on the face of Father Danes. I held my hands to my face and could smell my body on my fingers, and for the remainder of the day, I imagined any ploy I could repeat what I had just experienced.
In confession, I began to dish up the juiciest sins my young imagination could concoct. I said everything I could think of to provoke him, to seduce him the way he had seduced me. One time I even confessed to having fantasised about ‘a priest’ while pleasuring myself in bed at night, leaving little room for misinterpretation as possible. And do you know what he did? Nothing! He just waited for me to finish, then he issued the usual penance for naughty girls and told me I would be in his prayers. Still, I refused to give up. I was determined to make him see me.
For any young person, the loss of virginity is not so much a physical change as it is a psychological one. I had been infatuated with this man for what felt like my entire life, and I was now on a mission to sacrifice my innocence at his altar or die to try.
On the evening of my eighteenth birthday, after a small party with girls who now seemed no longer the same as I, I made my move and emboldened myself to dress up again in my lovely new dress, black velvet choker necklace and pigtails and confront him. I knew he liked my hair this way; I’d watched him gazing at them one day his mind in another place, but I guess I was naïve to believe Father Danes could be confronted. There was no mistaking he was always in control and as I write this feel he still is.
To enter his house was easy as the school, church and buildings doors were rarely locked. So I took it upon myself pull on my coat and to excuse myself from my party and walk slowly to his house. I still feel proud at my bravery at the time though my heart was pounding and felt that if my plan failed everything was lost. In reality, I was just drawn down the warm path of his mesmerism and a path that had begun the day I first felt the firm ruler on my bottom.
Quietly I wandered through his house, past the living room and the kitchen until I reached what appeared to be his study. He was seated at his desk, his forehead in a frown as he worked late probably writing one of his eloquent sermons which I adored so much.
As I opened the door to the study, his hand stopped writing, and he looked up at me. Instead of reproaching me for my audacity, he closed his notebook and put it to one side.
I had never seen him look at me the way he did that evening, other than in my dreams.
“I’ve a special gift for you, Father. I believe you have been waiting for it.” My eyes were glimmering with eagerness and the reflection of his warm log fire. A fire and scene which I never knew I would play out for real in one of my films. The film depicting almost exactly what was to happen next.
After a long pause, he calmly summoned me over to him. Completely taken aback by his apparent lack of surprise, I felt a warm stirring in my loins at the anticipation of what I hoped was to come.
He remained seated, and I stood before him, my bottom resting against the edge of his writing table. My eyes were glued fast to his handsome face as I waited as he looked at me as if carefully contemplating his next words.
‘Do you come of your own volition Piper?’
I nodded confidently.
He began a confident but graceful movement until he was in front of me.‘Do you surrender to me now in complete knowledge that your submission would be viewed as a grave sin by many for not only you but I?’
I was nodding as each syllable dripped from his lips. For a what seemed an eternity I was only aware a silence and the feeling of his large hands now covering mine.
As if preparing to dance he grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to him. On auto-pilot now, my hand moved up to my coat, and I undid the top button, then the next one, then the next. I studied his features as his eyes moved up to my heaving chest, catching a first glimpse of the black velvet necklace.”You sinful little imp,” he whispered, his gaze transfixed on my body as he undid the remainder of the buttons himself and I moaned as I felt myself in complete and utter submission to his will with his use of ‘sinful’ and obvious pleasure he felt as he undressed me.
He leant forward to slowly stroke my bare thigh and my pulse sped up. The calendar may have maintained my passage into young womanhood, but as I stood before him then, offering my innocence up to him in the most literal sense, I felt frightened and small. My mind began to focus on all the parts of my freckled body I was ashamed of, and suddenly I was convinced that if Father Danes saw me naked, he would find me repulsive. After an entire year of endlessly rehearsing this moment in my head, teenage insecurity reared its ugly head and threatened to ruin my long awaited happiness. Before I was aware of it, my hand closed around Father Danes’ wrist, stopping him. I was far too embarrassed to speak, but the look on his face told me he had guessed the problem.
“It’s alright, Piper,” he said calmly, “you are beautiful.”
Mortified though I was at having had my innermost fears exposed in this way, his words had an unexpectedly soothing effect on me, and I felt my grip on him relax. His hand then slipped between my thighs and he massaged my stiff little bud through the fabric of my underwear with his fingertips. Letting go of all fear of judgement I closed my eyes and surrendered to the ecstasy of that perfect moment.
In one graceful motion, he slid my panties down over my thighs. I still recall the way his hands seemed to savour the experience of caressing my skin on their downward journey. One new impression rapidly followed the last and I felt his tongue, hot and wet, upon my slit. He explored me for a while before taking my sensitive clit into his mouth and sucking me gently. It was incredible. I’m quite sure I would have come within a matter of seconds were it not for his attentiveness. He obviously didn’t want me to experience that particular sensation just yet.
When the kiss ended, his eyes wandered to my lips, and he commented on what a beautiful mouth I had. Said he had always admired it. Now, I may have been young and inexperienced at that point, but I knew clearly what he was implying, and I was more than happy to indulge him. My eyes went straight to the bulge in his lap, and my heart threatened to beat out of my chest.
Before I could gather my thoughts, his mouth was on mine, and I parted my lips a little to invite his determined tongue inside. It felt good, and I soon lost myself in the moment.
An intense wave of pleasure hit me hard when he began to caress my tongue with his and I moaned softly into his mouth. I savoured the sensuousness of every moment. The sound of his breathing, the faint taste of wine on his lips and his tongue; the heat of his hands on my body. He led, and I followed, oblivious to time, space and everything else around me. We devoured one another for what seemed like an eternity. It was dizzying. Intoxicating. Perfection.
That little taste of heaven drew to a close, and his lips pulled away from mine, just when he’d worked me up to the wettest frenzy of desire. His hand now held on to my necklace, and I felt the firm downward pressure. There now was no smile as I looked up to his face, he had become my master, and I would do whatever he desired. He adjusted the large bulge beneath his robes and guided my face to it.
Sinking to my knees before him, I was deeply aware that my entire life had been leading up to this. How long had I fantasised about this moment? Prayed for it. And now it was happening. My heart would have its way, and if he had tried to stop me, I believe I would have died.
With some help from him, I navigated through the folds of his cassock and could feel his firm heat through the fabric. His fingertips stroked the side of my face as I unveiled his manhood.
My mouth went dry when I first saw it, and I feasted my eyes upon its utter perfection. It seemed so smooth and aesthetically pleasing; so manly. It pointed heavenward, proud and glistening, begging to be soothed. The vision of my beloved’s engorged, erect penis awakened something deep within me, and I knew there and then that I would forever be a slave destined to worship at the altar of the divine phallus.
A fierce desire took hold of me as it touched my lips it. I felt the smooth, slippery warmth of its freshly unsheathed crown. The strong, manly musk of sex filled my nostrils and would remain forever etched in my memory.
I wanted so badly to take all of him into my mouth; to pleasure him as he had done me. But I was frightened. Frightened of disappointing him. Of doing it wrong. Of hurting him, even.
God, he tasted good.
I may never have had any practical experience in that field, but I’d had plenty of time to perfect the technique in my fantasies, and I did everything in my power to please him. I was sensitive to his every reaction, adjusted my ministrations according to what he liked most and took care not to pull him too close to the edge too quickly.
I carefully noted how his beautiful penis grew harder and harder within my mouth and as he lay back in his armchair how now and then he would close his eyes and whisper my name as my tongue circled the tip of his penis. I guessed I must have been doing it right and my hand gripped the thickening shaft of his growing penis. It’s funny now but seriously at one point I did wonder just how big it would grow and whether I would be able to take it into my eager mouth.
As he moaned louder my ability to allow more and more of him into me increased. The circular motion of my fingers on the end of his penis, now wet with pre-cum – so curious to watch ooze out of this perfect specimen and lap up softly, watching his whole body twitch as I did.
As I realised just how much enjoyment I was giving him, he paused. “This is what you always wanted” he breathed, now pushing his cock deeper into my mouth, but there was a tremor in his voice. It was desire.
A wave of lust swept through my body, and I shuddered. I closed my eyes and let the physical sensations inundate me. My breathing involuntarily quickened as hot little sparks of pleasure exploded into a raging fire which spread throughout my entire body and I looked up half grinning and half with pride at what I was able to elicit from this man and breathed “Yes, yes Father. I want to please you. I need to see what happens next.”
All strength had left my legs and sweat had begun to gather on my brow when I tenderly brought my mouth closer to his body and whispered to his penis, ‘come for me, now!’
His nails dug into my shoulders as I now massaged and sucked on his penis, quickening the pace with every shock of pleasure between my thighs. A chill ran down my spine, and I closed my eyes, taking in only the sounds of his frantic breathing and the blissful agony of my pleasure as my hand and mouth worked their its magic upon his body.
The dam burst within him and at the same time in me when suddenly wave after wave of his gorgeous white semen washed over me, and as he groaned, I fingered myself quietly and allowed myself to come at the same time. I can honestly say the sight of his fountain of cum was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen and knew I could never forget.
After we had finished and our breathing had returned to normal he told me that now I ought to be getting back home as my mother would be wondering where I had got to, but first I needed to cleanse his cum from my breasts, face and shoulders.
In his bathroom, I opened his cabinet as I cleaned myself and was surprised to see that he kept a beautiful collection of colognes which I sniffed and sprayed onto myself, but none were better than when I stroked a slither of his semen from my breasts and took it to my mouth to taste. It tasted salty, tangy but a taste I loved and knew from then on I would forever enjoy feeling.
When I returned I buttoned up my coat in silence, my warm juices trickling down the inside of my thigh as I had removed my panties and as a parting gift left them for him to discover later is his bathroom.
As if nothing had just happened he had begun again writing in his notebook. When he saw me, he gently nodded, took my hand and walked me to the door. When I turned for one last look at him, he softly stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. With a little shake of his head, he sighed. “The risks we are willing to take for a fleeting moment of bliss.”
I didn’t know how to respond so I lifted his hands to my mouth and kissed his warm fingers.
As I made my way home, the first flakes of snow began to fall, melting on my face and clinging to my dishevelled hair and I knew my life had changed forever.
© M. Guy Neashlen 2016
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A Kinky BlowJob Curriculum
As he pulled the last knot tight she whimpered. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, and her breasts jutted forward, nipples crinkled hard with her arousal. His hand grasped the front of the ropes at her chest, pulling down, and she sank to her knees. Her pulse quickened as she saw him take a long scarf out of his pocket, and his knowing smile was the last thing she saw as he wrapped it around her eyes. Knot in place, he tilted her head up. “Tell me what you want, my pretty little cockslut.”
She licked her lips. “Oh, I want to suck your cock -“ She gasped as his hand slapped her cheek, the shock bringing tears to her eyes and cunt simultaneously. She could practically hear his glare, and she swallowed, trying again. “Sir, I would like to suck your cock like a good dirty slut. Please, sir, let me taste -“
Again she was cut off, this time by the feeling of his cock sliding between her lips. She opened her mouth, wider, trying to take him in deeper, until the tip was touching the back of her throat. He held it there until she trembled with the need to breathe, and then, just before pulling back, he pushed slightly deeper. Fighting the gag reflex, her tongue stroked the underside of his shaft, reveling in the feeling of how he filled her up, making her dizzy as she struggled to breathe in between strokes.
”Not bad, cockslut,” he murmured. She whimpered again, her ass wiggling with pleasure at his approval. The whimper turned to a moan as he pinched her nipples hard, sending electric sensations directly to her clit. She gasped as he let go, her mouth opening and saliva and pre-cum drizzling out and over the ropes that bound her breasts. She felt his fingers slid along the back of her head, entwining in her hair. “But tonight we see just how deep we can really go…”
The cock filled her mouth again…
Sounds hot, yes? There’s a lot to be said for the kinky blowjob, and that little story is just the kind of thing you’d find in an erotic novel. What you don’t see is that there’s a lot of kink techniques behind the hotness, and there’s a lot of places where it’s worth taking the time to learn the skills before the Big Moment. Otherwise those sexy whimpers can turn into “Ow, motherfucker! That’s annoying!” or worse “Ow – damn, that was my crown!” Bye-bye, blowjob, hello, emergency dentist.
That’s why people come to sites like the Kink Academy to learn the techniques to make fantasies like that one above a reality.
Here’s a quick list of things you can learn to help make your own blowjobs kinkier:
Now, we’re not saying you have to come to The Kink Academy to learn these skills – though you could. What we’re saying is this: kinky blowjobs are awesome, even better in reality than they are in porn or erotica. But to get there, you have to spend some time learning the techniques so that your kinky blowjob will be safe, consensual, and most of all…