River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (47 page)

I whipped around and there he stood. Beautiful, but married.

“How did you find me here?” I demanded.

He shrugged and said, “I followed you here, sorry. You wouldn’t answer my calls, so I waited outside your building. You drove out, so I followed you here. Guess it makes me a bit of a stalker.”

“Well, I guess we’re even,” I flippantly stated.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I was ready to explode. I was so angry with him and myself and how we got to this point. Raising my voice I blurted out, “I moved back to San Antonio, and I looked you up on Google and found all this information about you. I even drove by your house, before we bumped into each other at my work. That’s right, I actually stalked you too. So yeah, I guess that makes us even.”

I continued as my voice softened, “I am sorry Marc. I’m not going to date a married man. Because you know, that is what we are doing. We are dating. It’s not right and not fair to me. And it certainly isn’t fair to your wife or children. I can’t do this anymore. Go home to your family. Please, just leave me alone.”

Marc took one step toward me, looked right into my eyes and softly said, “Well, you obviously didn’t go far enough when you were stalking me. You’d have found the obituary on page three. My wife passed away three years ago. ”

I shook my head. I was so confused.

He held up his left hand. “Vivian, my wedding band is gone now. I always wore it for the kids. It was a symbol for them, you know. Something of their mother was always visible. I told myself I would only remove if I ever fell in love again.”

With that, my heart pounded out of my chest. My tears started to flow. We just stood looking into each other. In grade school, I had a notion of what love would be like. I just didn’t know it would be with that boy who sat two rows over in math class.

Love’s notion was far better than hot dogs and a root beer float.

Two Years Later....

“Shhhhh, are you crazy?” I tried in vain to whisper.

Marc smirked as he pulled out a belt from his bottom drawer. “No, I really want to use this on you.”

We started to giggle; of course he wants to use that on me.
Could you pick anything louder?

“The kids are still up. They’ll hear us. That’s way too loud.” I pleaded, knowing I was facing a losing battle.

He looked so adorable, standing there shirtless in his blue jeans. Marc rolled his eyes in frustration, placed the belt back into the drawer and picked out a crop.

“They’re two floors away watching that movie you bought them. They won’t hear us. Come on Viv. I’m the Dom here. No back-talk.” Oh boy, the last few words he lowered his voice and purposely slowed his speech.

He stood before me, all manly, expertly holding his weapon of choice.
How could I refuse?
Yes, the kids would be occupied for at least the next hour. Or so we hoped! I quickly glanced over at the door. It was locked.

Marc slowly walked over to the chair in the corner and sat down. Looking into my eyes, he gently ran his fingers along the edge of the crop.

“Take your clothes off. Slowly. Do it three feet in front of me.” I moved over to him, positioning myself as instructed. Unbuttoning my blouse, I let it drop suggestively to the floor. I unzipped my jeans and did my best to shimmy out of them. They pooled at my feet and then I kicked them aside. So there I stood, in my favorite bra and tiny blue lace panties.

Marc’s eyes were making a meal out of my nipples that were obviously aroused and visual through the transparent fabric. I knew what he wanted. Moving my hands I reached around and undid the clasp. The bra fell to the ground. I knew what to do next; he loved to see me tease myself. And I loved to please him; first running both hands down and over the tips of my nipples. Very lightly. Barely touching them was torture.

I could feel both nipples point and harden, as I taunted them, until they were aching to be twisted, slapped, and sucked by him. He knows this; these breasts are his playing field.

He moved his eyes down to my panties. He wanted those removed too.

I slipped the now sodden panties off and tossed them aside.

“Legs further apart.” Marc ordered, as he shifted forward in his seat.

I spread my legs slightly farther apart. He was in charge. In here, I would do anything for him.

“Open the folds of your pussy. Show me your clit.” With strict instructions, he focused his eyes on my vagina.

Immediately, I placed my hands on my slender waist and felt the smooth skin as my fingers continued their journey downward. I gently opened my lips and pulled on the little flesh that cupped my clit.
My clit is yours, and here it is for you
. A pool of wet was waiting to be spread up and around. I couldn’t wait any longer. My right fingers brought up the beautiful moisture to bathe my clit, while my left hand held open the folds of my pussy. Pressing and circling the tiny hardening button of pure pleasure. It wanted more, so I gave it.

Marc shifted in his seat as he watched. His cock was bulging in his jeans.

“Stop, I didn’t tell you to touch your clit,” Marc scolded and shook his head.

Oh shit
. I immediately, but reluctantly, dropped my hands.

Marc stood up, walked over to the front of the bench that is placed at the foot of our bed. He placed the crop on the bench.
What was he going to do?

“Stand here,” he pointed.

I walked over a few steps and stood in the exact spot, facing him. He forced his knee between my thighs to spread my legs further apart. I reached up, grabbing onto his strong forearms to steady myself. Reaching toward me, his hand glided into my hungry pussy, and he elicited pleasure from every inch, paying a special visit to my clit. Wetness was practically dripping. Marc loved my pussy puffy and wet.

He removed his fingers, brought it to my mouth and spread moisture first along my top lip, and then bottom. I could smell myself.
Oh, please finger me again.

He ordered with a word, “Taste.”

I ran my tongue along the top and then the bottom. His eyes were focused on my mouth.

“Suck,” he said firmly. Me, bathing each finger clean.

“Good girl.” He held my face in his hands and kissed me as if he was drinking my arousal. His tongue knowingly explored my mouth. I felt a rush all the way down to my groin.
My man could kiss
.

“Don’t move,” he said, firmly grasping my waist with one hand as he slapped my ass. Hard.
Ouch, it stung
.

I dared not move. He went back into the drawer and took a blindfold in hand snapping it.
Oh how I love to be blindfolded
.

Gently, Marc tied and fixed the blindfold ensuring my hair was off of my face. So adorable, he knows how I hate to have hair tangled. He tapped my shoulder to signal that I should sit down on the bench.

He placed a pillow behind my back.

Quietly and yet firmly he said, “Lay back, arms above your head, spread your legs.”

Arching my back, laying back against the pillows my breasts arched up wanting, willing for attention. Legs slightly spread.

“Wider,” he said, with a quick flick of the crop on my thigh.
Yes, Sir!

Marc took the crop and ran it up the inside of one leg, across my vagina, and then down the other leg. All of a sudden, I felt the crop’s end making perfect precise contact with my pussy folds. Once, twice, three times. It stung, and my clit throbbed from the hitting sensation. He stopped.
Please don’t stop
.

I could hear him moving around at the foot of the bench.
What was he doing?
I wanted to remove the blindfold but dared not. The suspense was intense.
Was he looking at my pussy spread wide for his gazing pleasure? Probably, knowing him!
I felt my face flame red. I am so exposed. Just then, flick and my left nipple was hit with the crop. Oh, it hurt but felt so good. He snapped it once more. And again.
Oh, please hit my right nipple
. I waited. He hit the same left nipple again.

I arched my back seemingly thrusting my right nipple up towards him crying for attention. I waited. Nothing.
Oh, please hit my breast
. My man ignored my plea. Instead, he flicked my clit with such force I cried out in pain. He was punishing me.
How dare I tell him what to do
? It stung as he flicked it over and over again. He took the crop and circled my left breast, flicked it once more, and ran it down over my tummy toward my opening. He made a series of soft hits from my nipple to my clit.

I felt him push the crop into my pulsing cunt as he spread my overflowing juice around my clit. Only a few more punishing flicks to my clit and then....nothing.

What was he doing? Then, I heard him open his drawer.
I think?
I was on the brink, wiggled and squirmed on the bench.
Do something quick. Damn you.
Was he taking his pants off?

Just then, he grabbed my right nipple and twisted, pinched and pulled it up. Finally, he was paying it the attention it deserved. But he surprised me as he clamped it. I tensed from the sharp pain. It hurt.
Bastard
.

“I decide what you’re getting Vivian, not you. Don’t gesture next time.”

He pulled on both nipples. Just then he licked around my punished nipple stopping to suck on its end. He then used his tongue to tease the tip. I was dying from the mixed pain and pleasure. I moved my hands into his hair as he played with my nipple. I couldn’t help myself. He let me. For a few minutes anyway.

He pulled away, clasped my wrists, placing them above my head. With strong hands he squeezed both breasts and moved down either side of my body, gently feeling my slender waist, gripping my cunt with his hand as he rubbed his palm around and around.

Then I was alone. Where is he? “Marc? Please.”

“Shhhhhh,” he said with a quiet force, “spread those legs wider.” I did just that.

Once again, I felt the crop spread my wetness all over my pussy. Then
WHACK
, he hit me again. I couldn’t believe it. Again and again, he hit my clit. I arched my pussy up to meet his strikes. We are in a rhythm. Fuck. I can’t take much more. Each strike bringing me closer to the brink. He could do anything to me. I am completely and utterly lost. I cannot hold back any longer as my orgasm vibrates and pulses wildly into my pelvis.

Seconds later, he caressed my hips and flipped me over. My ass was high up in the air and my knees where resting on the bench. He firmly grasped my hips and glided his cock up into my opened and thirsty pussy. It so wanted to be filled. The feeling was out of this world. He was gentle at first, moving in and out of me, until I heard him moan as he slammed my tender whipped pussy from behind. His cock was rock hard, and I could feel it stiffen even more as he squeezed my hips. My nipples were scraping the sheets with each thrust. He was on the verge of coming. I knew his cock so well, just before orgasm was always thick, hard, commanding and all mine. Fuck me. I was ready to scream as he reached around pulling off the nipple clamp. The pleasure in my released nipple combined with his rigid cock was my undoing. We came together. He poured his cum into me as his cock throbbed.

Marc gently pushed me down onto the bed as we relished our orgasms. I could feel his cock still inside me as he circled his hips gently.

We lay on the bed with his chest on my back, his hands cupping both of my breasts as he supported his weight with his forearms. He nuzzled his face into my shoulder.

Just then, he whispered in my ear, “Why don’t you lick my dick clean, and then we can watch the end of the movie with the kids.”

I started to giggle. Then he started to laugh. Before you knew it, we were dressed and unlocking our bedroom door. He tapped my ass in a loving gesture as we walked down our hall.

Married life is so good.

THE END

The Story Behind The Stories

I started by writing ten story outlines. Some incredibly detailed, others less so. I needed to ensure that all of the stories were unique, and that all of them had at least two kinky scenes (after all, I’m a bdsm erotica writer). Then I set about finding and selecting female writers to bring these stories to life. In random order:

1. When I wrote the outline for ‘One Last Cigarette’ I immediately thought of Noelle. I wanted a writer with a strong romantic sensibility, and Noelle’s writing is so natural, she was a perfect fit. She captured the essence of the story beautifully.
   
2. In the case of Gina – I literally wrote the story outline for ‘The Power of a Woman’ specifically
   for
   Gina. I wanted to give her a story that she could really dig into. She evolved the outline significantly, which was brilliant on her part. Her instincts are second to none.
   
3. Julie was a no-brainer for ‘Hostage Situation’ because of her filmmaking experience. This is the most suspenseful of the stories in River Walk, and I bet she could turn it into an amazing screenplay. Beyond the initial outline, my involvement was minimal.
   
4. Any new project I work on starts with a brainstorming discussion with Tiffany. I bounce all my ideas off her. At first, she was hesitant to be one of the writers, but I’m persistent –smiles-. As you can see, she delivered in spades!
   
5. Working with my wife has been one of the great joys of River Walk. Jaycee helped me tremendously on ‘A Condo with Two Views,’ so I was happy to let her flex her writing muscles with
   

‘Love’s Notion’. We went for a two hour walk one day, and conceived the outline together.

1. I barely knew Lena when I approached her for this project. I thought it was important to have a mix of friends, and professionals. Lena was on my radar because of her talent. She took ‘Spanked!’ to an amazing place.
   
2. Melissa is one of my first-ever online friends, and an undiscovered talent. She identifies lovely little insights within everyday life, and peppers her stories with them. The ending of ‘The Un-cashed Cheque’ is very powerful, and emotional.
   
3. Another dear friend of mine, going back a long way, is Ali. I knew we’d work on something together eventually, and River Walk provided the perfect opportunity. This story is a gem. Plus, assuming you’ve read it by now, who can’t wait for a full length novel?
   
4. When I wrote the outline for ‘The Discover Ring’ I was hugely excited to find the right writer for it. This is also a very romantic story and Rosemary brilliantly captured the core of the characters, and the gist of the story. She brought it to life in a magical way.
   
5. Last but not least, is Jen. The story in this case spans decades, and I’ve been sitting on the premise about as long. I always liked the idea of an older submissive reflecting back on her life. JLE wrote it with the grace of a figure skater. Wait until you see the triple axel.