Today’s post is steamy. It is an erotic short story written by the very talented writer Benjamin McQueen.
This short story is for 18+. Enjoy!
Writing life
By Benjamin McQueen
1. Remember when you whipped me as I laid prone across the altar at the Cathedral? Remember when you teased me with one finger, just one damn finger, on the hill that overlooked the town? Remember when we came so hard that the sweat dripped from us for an hour and we had to sleep exhausted in the back room of the club. Do you remember anything Tim? Julie sat gazing out of the window and wondered if her husband ever thought about the old days. The sound of him hitting the keys on the keyboard drummed away. Outside the wind blew at the falling leaves, it looked cold out there. Her knees were pulled tight to her chest as if bracing herself for the long winter to come. Her reflection jagged across the glass, dancing a melancholic performance which she tried to ignore. She knew she was growing old, fifty four wasn’t an age she particularly wanted to be but it was her. For sure she could hold onto the images of youth forever but the truth was always waiting for her whenever she looked in the mirror. She turned away from the cracks in her skin and the thinning of her hair and allowed the sound of Tim’s flowing typing to cocoon her. The sound had become so instrumental in their lives, it was the theme tune, the rhythm so entwined in their matter that it was as common to her as birds singing or rain falling. ‘Here how does this sound?’ Tim asked sometime later as she broke from the pitying trance. He was still a very attractive man, for him the passing of time had proved beneficial. As he began to speak his voice crackled with the boyish excitement she knew all too well. He sprung back from the desk and rested his arms behind his head, she could tell he was pleased with what he had written. The girl pulled her limp frame from the floor and stared deep into the eyes of this mysterious man. Her legs, thin silly wires, dangled below her, barely strong enough to hold her up. He reached across and took hold of her hair. This girl was everything he desired she was the fresh challenge he was searching for. ‘I’m very happy with you today girl’ With one strong movement he reached out and took a fist of her hair, dragging it into a taut pony tail. Her face exploded with fear and trepidation. ‘I’m going to have to push you further this time’ His voice stern and abrupt ushered her across the room to the waiting bed. ‘Lay down on your back’ He ordered, guiding her timid shell like body into the perfect position with her head hanging from the edge. He stood back and watched her as she lay down looking back up at him. ‘Open your mouth’ Her hair flowed down the edge of the bed, the copper red strands escaping to the floor. He moved forward stroking his growing hardness and with one hand he stroked her trembling face. ‘Make sure you keep it as wide as possible’ The sound of her gasps only fueled the desire as he forced himself into her mouth. The need was upon him, here was his girl willing to let him be as he wanted and he wanted to push it as far as he could. He thrust hard, picturing himself slipping so far down her throat that she could no longer breath. He thrust firmly, wanting to cum so hard that she wouldn’t get a chance to taste it. To fill her throat with all of himself, to leave a mark so indelible that she would remember forever. He spun round in his chair to face her. ‘Well?’ He asked obviously giddied by his own work. There was a long pause. ‘Are you writing about her again?’ Julie asked already knowing the answer to follow. ‘Hey?’ ‘The girl, are you writing about the girl with the copper red hair again?’ The pause had left an air of mistrust between them. ‘Of course’ he replied without hesitation. Julie squirmed uncomfortably. This was the third book with this new heroin. Lowering her legs she looked around the room, all around them the shelves sat full with the hundreds of titles that they had written. Twenty years they had been at it. It had made them rich and famous but now it wasn’t the same. To begin with they had written about themselves, they wanted to document their life as dominant and submissive but lately there had been a change. Tim had started writing alone, before she had seen their work almost as extended foreplay. It was true he still wrote in the front room, he even still did it in front of her, like today, but it just wasn’t the same. He no longer talked to her about it, he would read it out loud as much as just to show off then to actually gain her opinion. They were known as the first couple of D/s erotica, the pin ups from a new liberated generation spilling out the very details of what made them tick. Yet now this room seemed hollow, all the books that looked back at her seemed to be tainted. ‘She’s a real hit don’t you think’ Tim said without paying any attention to his wife’s unease. ‘She’s definitely got you enthralled that’s for sure.’ Julie offered lightly. ‘I think she’s the sexiest thing we’ve ever come up with’ He could never know how much these words wounded her. They struck a dagger straight to her heart, one she could never recover. She felt the tears well up. ‘I can’t believe how well she’s gone down, they’re lapping her up, the first two books sold like hot cakes’ he added. Julie turned away from her husband and stifled her tears. He just didn’t get it. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t write about this girl sooner?’ ‘Because you had me!’ The voice inside her head screamed out as she ran sobbing from the room.
2. Remember when you left me tied up all afternoon while you went out to the pub? Remember you spent hours training me to take your entire fist inside me. Do you remember the pictures I took and the places I took them? They hadn’t always written erotica, or porn if you listened to her mums opinion. Once, a long time ago now, they were simply hedonists. They had met outside the only S and M club either of them had ever heard of. It was a weird town house lurking anonymously next to dentist surgeries and bookshops, the type of place hundreds of people would walk by every day and not give a second thought too. Tim was stood skillfully smoking a sharp white cigarette whilst she was perched nervously on a garden wall, the both of them trying to build up the courage to go in. She always saw him just as he was that night, slim crouch hugging jeans, bright white shirt. That image of him was pure perfection to her. Her heart skipped even now at the moment he came over and spoke to her. The electricity as he slipped his hand into hers and simply uttered the words ‘What have we got to lose?’ Since that day to this one they had never spent longer than one night apart. She looked over at his greying hair, he was scanning the screen of the computer with a deep concentration. He had always made her feel so special and wanted. The erotica they wrote was so personal and intimate. She got up and went over to the bookcase. She picked up the first one they had ever written. It was called A special kind of bond.They were penniless and living in a one bedroom flat share at that time. The cover glowed with an old green tinge, the raised lettering had started to fade. She raised it to her nose and smelt the musk. She always loved the smell of books. She ran her finger across the pages and stopped about halfway, the pages had become discoloured by time. She began to read. ‘You`ll take as much as I tell you too!’ Her spine dug into the bed, her dominant spun the dial higher and the reaction was instantaneous. Her head flung back with a snap, eyes rolling back revealing the clear pure whites. The power unit hummed away accompanying her uncontrollable moans. He pinned her ankles down, his rough hands taking little care for her comfort. ‘Be still!` He ordered and somewhere deep inside her she was capable of obeying. The dial was turned higher and the volts flowed through her. It was amazing to see the muscles flickering away and he was totally in control. The tiny pads clung greedily to the lips of her soaking pussy sending wave after wave of lightening through her entire body. The old familiar twinges momentarily spasmed inside her once more. Those days were so special to her, they all seemed to be about new experiences and cherishing one another. She flicked to a few pages further on. The taste of his release was the sweetest thing she had ever known. All she wanted was to be at his side and for him to do as he pleased. Once more she opened her eyes, he had covered her entire face and all she wished for was to guide it into her mouth and taste it once again. ‘Don’t you dare eat it up!’ He ordered. With a large forceful paw he struck her across the face and began to scoop up his own cum wiping it roughly into her aching breasts. ‘I’ve got something for you to taste’ he said with a devilish tone. Pushing her to the floor he pinned her down by kneeling on her fore arms, and thrusting his rear into her face. ‘Eat that!’ He demanded. How far away all that now seemed. She glanced back over at Tim, he was rubbing his chest with a greedy appetite for what he had created. That was once a reaction she and only she would bring about but now she wasn’t so sure. ‘Is she real?’ Theses were the words she really wanted to ask, but she was too afraid to hear the answer.
3. Do you remember telling me there would be no one else? Remember trailing me around the clubs in Berlin in nothing but a pearl G-string and leather leash? Remember whipping me till I bled and then bathing me so tenderly afterwards? Tim do you remember anything of what we used to be? Displaying your most intimate moments on paper was such a delicate balance. It was always a fine line between realism and truth and exposing yourself totally to the world. Julie realised that she had given up her voice to Tim. Although they wrote together, it was he who ultimately typed in the words, he was God of it all. Before this wasn’t a problem because she was so sure in what they were doing, it was glorious and freeing to document it all. However with the birth of this new girl, the character of far greater fascination to her husband, she began to feel those walls of safety and certainty crumble. Had any of it been real? Was she just a fleeting inspiration, so easily dropped for another. So it was that three days later Julie followed her husband. It wasn’t intentional at first, that’s what she told herself anyway, she had found herself on the same street just as he happened to pass in the distance. At first she was merely going in the same direction as him but after three hours she had to confess she was in actual fact following him. She had to know. The tiny little voice was eating away at her, the doubts, the fear, the crippling redundancy. That morning she had picked up the another of the books he had written about the copper haired girl. At the time it was written she had convinced herself that they were still writing about themselves however as her hands trembled re-reading she knew what fool she had been. The afternoon had grown warm and the sunlight ran in coloured waves into the house. She stood in the doorway, another stunning strand of celestial gold, her eyes fixed solidly to the floor. ‘You know that I’ve been watching you’ he asked. ‘Yes’ she replied timidly. ‘So you know I want you then?’ She shook her head in acknowledgement, her eyes still baring into the wooden flooring. Reaching out he could no longer hold himself back. Her silk like hair ran through his fingers. ‘So what are we going to do with you?’ The girl shrugged her shoulders and he pulled her chin up so that their eyes met. This girl was years younger than him, there was a thirty year age gap, but still he couldn’t see beyond his need for her. ‘What is it you’ve got in your hand?’ He asked She slowly brought her hands in front to show him. Opening her fingers she revealed her silk panties. His heart kicked ferociously and he grabbed her waist. She brandished the gift into his face and he licked the wetness that was all over them. The taste of her excitement was overpowering, immediately he ripped down her skirt and plunged his fingers inside her. Her body recoiled at this invasion and she buried her head into his shoulder. Lifting her off her feet he wrestled himself free from his trousers and stroked his surging dick against her sodden lips. Her moans fanned his fire and as her legs wrapped around his waist he entered her without taking care for her comfort. Her tightness was a shock and also a challenge to him as he drilled her hard against the wall not giving a care to who might walk in and catch them. He was in love with her! That was her fear, the same love that used to belong to her. Where would she go, what would become of her if he no longer needed her. For most of the afternoon she had felt like a lost fool. Following her husband around like some broken and disregarded toy she tried to convince herself that maybe it was all in her imagination. She saw nothing. She returned home and felt she was growing silly in her old age. But still this girl loomed large over them. Was she real? Did he now treat her as he once did her? The thoughts spun over and over in her mind, it was unrelenting. The next few minutes flew by in a blur of anger and desperation, she could hardly acknowledge her own movements. Knelt at the desk she saw through tear stained eyes as the words disappeared from the screen. Her finger beating against the delete button until it stung with a warm pain. Eventually it was completely gone and she sat back in her old familiar worn spot on the sofa and stared back out of the window. She had nowhere else, no one else. She would have to sit and wait for him to return and accept the punishment, her body shook as she begged silently for there to be a punishment.
About the Author- Benjamin McQueen
Follow his blog page for more news about his writing at https://benjaminmcqueenerotica.wordpress.com
You can find Mr. McQueen on Twitter at https://twitter.com/HisDelights /
Born and raised in Montreal, Canada, C. W. still calls Montreal home, surrounded and supported by her husband, five children and Siamese cat. She has always loved reading, but only recently began indulging in writing herself. She also enjoys the smell of spring rain and walking through the first snowfalls of December at night, especially when the snow is crunchy. Her message to readers?
Mercy hasn’t had an easy life and has just escaped her sadistic and sociopathic ex-boyfriend Alex. Fearing the repercussions she’ll face if he finds her, she flees Florida leaving behind everything and everyone in exchange for a new beginning.
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