Dirty Little Holidays: Christmas with Hank & Robin


Thick satin ribbon laced Robin’s waist, dipping between her thighs, just braced along her sex and ass to rub her as she moved. Hank tied her arms together, looping the ribbon around the bedpost to secure her.

Hank’s fingers trailed over her breasts, spreading goose bumps in the wake of his touch.

Cold glass chilled her as it met the inside of her thigh, roaming up her ass. Hank shifted the ribbon aside, coating her anus with lube before the glass pressed in on her. Sizzling pleasure spread through her as he worked the anal plug past the tight rim of her ass and seated it inside her with the most excruciating patience. Robin’s thighs wobbled to keep her upright.

With the ribbon replaced, Hank nudged her knees apart and pulled her hips back, tightening the restricted knot around her waist and pressing the plug more firmly inside of her. A faint moan vibrated against her closed mouth.

Hands curved her back harder as Hank moved in behind her, rubbing the hard length of himself over the ribbon that covered her sex.

Glass shifted inside of her again, this time in a steady beat to the small movements of Hank’s hips. Robin’s core tightened with the need to be filled, too.

The ribbon smoothed against her, wider as it unfolded, and his cock pressed it into her. Satin quickly coated wet probed her, folding around Hank, constricting around her body, and twisting the plug. Squeezing her hips, he rocked her back against him, gaining as much entrance as he could. His sharp movements tore away the first wave of her orgasm, accompanied by a sharp noise.

Long fingers and steady palms smoothed over her rear before pulling the wet ribbon to the side and plunging his bare cock to the depths of her, setting off her second wave of orgasm.

Hands yanking at the ribbon around the headboard, Robin arched back to accept him, breasts scraping against the sheets below her as she reeled in the rough pleasure. Muscles loose yet taut, squeezing down her core as she gave in. Body ricocheting, the amalgamation of attentions inflamed her in ecstasy.

Thumb pressed down on the stopper in her ass, Hank rubbed her in time with his hips, and Robin succumbed, falling into her full orgasm as he rode her relentlessly through it until tears wet the corners of her eyes.

And he came inside her, rubbing her down, soothing her, and worshipping her body.

Still seated in her core, he bent to drop soft kisses along the back of her neck. “Merry Christmas, love.”

Robin shuddered, knowing this was only her present. Hank still had his to unwrap.

Dirty Little Couples–Shanna and Chastain


Chastain’s fingers dug into her thighs and spun her up around his hips; he pivoted, walking her to their kitchen and setting her on the counter beside the fridge.  Her fingers clung to the bare muscles of his shoulders, taking in his scent, his animal pheromones.  Everything inside of her shook as his hands popped the button of her jeans.

How could he still make her feel this way?

Shanna’s nails tore down his chest as her jeans peeled down her hips.  Chastain growled for her, that deep rumbling that could only come from a real animal—a bear.  She stole a glance at his eyes.

Deep chestnut flashed at her, possessive and hungry.

And he popped her up before her bare cheeks dropped against the cold counter.  His growl redoubled as he nuzzled Shanna.  Rough scrapes of his new beard prickled along her jaw and throat, his wide mouth easing the sting on her skin. The fabric of her loose shirt lifted with the sweeping of his hands up her body, his jean-clad cock pressing into her.

Imitating his growl, her nails dug into his ass, forcing him to rub against her.

God, his teeth nipped at her flesh, making her convulse under him.

And then Chastain reached behind her, opening the cupboard and pulling the miniature honey-filled bear out in his hand.  The top flipped open with a flick of his thumb.

Shanna swallowed, chest heaving as he drizzled it along the tops of her breasts, sending a cascade of honey over her hardened nipples.

His thumb caught a dollop and smeared it over her lip before popping it into her mouth.  Sweetness melted across her tongue as she sucked on his thumb, licking the pad with the curve of her tongue.

The grumbling growl of his vibrated against her as his chest met hers, spreading the stickiness between them, and his mouth came down onto hers.

Hot pleasure overwhelmed her, and then his hands were at her hips, pulling her forward to the edge of the counter, against his newly bared cock.

Yes. She’d been waiting for this all day; dreaming about him busting into work and pulling her into an empty office, claiming her on the company letterheads. Not bothering to be quiet because she’d never be able to.

The head of his cock slipped between her folds, just barely entering her.  Chastain’s broad fingers wrapped in her red hair, yanking her head back as his mouth found the smear of honey across her flesh, his cock finding the honey at her center, filling her completely and then some.

God, he was so big. The whole of him, bear-sized even in his human form.

Her fingertips trailed the long slope of his spine, over his round ass and hips as he thrust into her, as his mouth dissolved the honey coating her right breast.

Heat ricochet through her body, tightening and twisting her insides.

Moans gushed from her as he pulled her knees up, sharpening the angle of her core around him so that he could penetrate her more deeply. He knew how to play her body with expertise, rubbing that knot of pleasure inside of her until she popped.

Towering over her again, his body flexed and rolled, calling to her like a search light in the haze.  She leaned into him, tongue peeking out tentatively to capture some of the honey still smeared across his chest.  Her mouth skated over his skin, teeth finding his nipple.

His inhuman groan rattled the livewire inside of her.

Chastain always seemed on the brink of transformation, like she drew the animal out of him or barely kept him at bay.

One of these days she’d break him loose, and he’d make her like him.

Her thighs spread wider; trembling in preparation, ready to come at his command.

God, the jerk of his cock meant soon.  She whimpered in submission as he whispered the command into her ear, heavy across her skin, restricting around her until she burst, clamping and grabbing him as he worked through her, ravaging her pleasure.

His final burst inside of her flung her against him, barely able to breathe.

Shanna stroked her back.  The residue between them a promise for more. His fingers reaffirming her thoughts.

Wonderful erotic definition and such a fresh way to present it.

The Erotic Writer


There were lots of photos I could have used for this, many involving bondage, but this is the one that appealed to me. It feels a little playful, Rejoice in Loveeager and suggests the excitement and willingness implied by obedience rather than bondage. Have fun and have a Merry Christmas Eve. As always, Will Crimson.

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Dirty Little Holidays–Christmas with Mandi and Nico


Mandi struggled against the red ribbon that bound her wrists to her headboard.  Garland bit into her thighs just above her knees, which both spread her legs and lifted her hips. Nico shifted the wide bow across her breasts, scraping the rough fabric over her nipples.  Erotic burning made her nipples harden and her back arch as far as it could.  The pain from the abrasion sent a sensitive line of pleasure straight to her core.

Reaching the brink of too painful, Nico untied the bow and tightened the ribbon around her breasts, blowing lightly across her flesh.  Mandi lifted her head, catching the look in Nico’s eyes.  She was in trouble, and she could barely wait.

Once Nico had repurposed the ribbon to harness her breasts. It held tightly enough to darken her skin to a vibrant pink and made the stick out in front of her like torpedoes.  His eyes had darkened to a pulsating cobalt blue as a flick of silver slapped across her purpling nipples.  The sting jolted her off the bed, her hips pushing higher and a moan caroling out of her mouth.

Mandi peered up in time to see a tinsel whip come back down across her swollen and sensitive skin, but the slap was soft as it dusted her skin, finding its way through the valley between her breasts, down her ribs, around her navel, and slapped with increasing pressure at the apex of her thighs until her limbs quivered in their restraints.

A soft, throaty chuckle fell across her skin as the tinsel whip disappeared. Nico was lucky on two accounts: first, tying her up was his Christmas present, which meant she couldn’t reciprocate; and second, he knew exactly how to unravel her.  Mandi quivered under his touch, completely at his mercy.

A crinkling hit her ears, but she couldn’t see the source. As she waited for the reveal, Nico bent over her, his tongue dipping between her folds, and his eyes lit up as if he’d found a treat.  Heat invaded Mandi, but she couldn’t be sure if it were Nico’s tongue or her arousal.

An oversized candy cane appeared below her chin, lifting toward her lips until her mouth fit around the inch-and-a-half-wide stick of sugar. Her tongue wrapped around the sticky sweetness, sucking on the candy cane as if it were Nico.  If she hadn’t been tied up, she’d taken hold of him and flicked her tongue along the tender knot under the head of his cock.

Nico pulled the candy cane from her mouth and squeezed the underside of her left hip.  His mouth left her skin moist and wanting but not for long.  The phallic candy pushed over her clit, circling and sticking.

But she wanted his mouth; it’s the only reason she’d actually agreed to this—the pleasure promised by that sweet tongue and bow-shaped lips.

He shoved the candy cane inside of her. Her sex resisted, but the wetness of her arousal cooled the sting as he pulsed it inside of her. Four long, thick inches of candy cane tugged and rubbed until Nico was able to thrust the red and white cane into her smoothly.

“I’ve got twelve inches here, love. And by the time we’re done,” he gave her lips a fresh swipe of his tongue, “you’ll take at lease eight of them for me.”

The tacky candy cane tapped against the very depths of her at five inches.  His tongue found her clit, making her hips roll to accommodate the candy and Nico.

Moans vibrated up from her chest—aching within the confines of the ribbon—and her thighs burned as the garland cut into her thighs.  The unrelenting tapping at her womb stole another jolt from her limbs.  His thrusts grew larger, and her gaze flew up to watch the red of the candy smear across the white and Nico’s tongue slide around the invasion of her sex.  She’d stretched to accept six inches.

The tip of his tongue found her clit, lapping up the sticky residue.  Sucking her into his mouth, her core shuttered, grabbed at the candy cane, and closed around it.  Nico’s name fell from her mouth, and he shoved another inch into her.

Her body leapt toward a crescendo, teetering at the top with the rhythm he created varying staccato and legato as though he could play every nerve in her body. Her moans formed the melody, a long mix of highs and lows building its own crescendo.

He pushed again, deeper, reaching the full eight inches of thrusting Christmas candy.  Nico grunted with satisfaction, and her body could no longer hold his tempo.  With a final note, her body convulsed, digging her ties deeper, cutting pain into the pleasure so that the soft gasping of her breath and the slick sound of the thrusting candy cane overloaded her bared senses.

Finally, Nico pulled the candy from her core and savored the taste of her minty lips until her body stopped shaking.  With a stealthy Grinch of a smile, he untied her breasts and legs before he hovered over her.

“And how many presents do I get this year?”

Dirty Little Restrictions–Cami

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Goosebumps climbed Cami’s back, wrapped down her hips, between her thighs, up her ribs, and around her breasts, making her nipples hard.  She quivered, jangling her reinforced restraints as the male behind her traced a dollop of soft leather over the bumps of her spine.

He had knelt her on the cold marble floor and tied her against the wall, arms stretched overhead, knees and ankles bound, all done with silk rope and reinforced with chains.

Cami closed her eyes.  With no blindfold, she could only rely on a slight turn of her head, but her peripheral vision merely caught a glimpse of the man’s tan skin and dark hair before she grew dizzy.

They didn’t know one another. That was the point. That’s why she’d searched for this underground bondage parlor for months.  No one else could know about her appetites.

The leather dollop dipped below her cheeks, tapping at the apex of her thighs and making her back arch as much as she could manage.  Her breasts scraped against the chilled glass at her front—the one hidden with a curtain that at any moment could open to reveal her.  Air sucked deeply into her lungs as the soft leather bit into her inner thighs, her ass cheeks, against the sealed folds of her sex.  A small yip reverberated against her teeth as another whipping broke her open.

Her knees burnt as she shifted, wishing for more contact, for his heat to slide against her and contrast the burning cold.

His voice was the next best thing—strong, vibrant, and with a bit of a South American lisp. “Be careful what you present me with, slave.  You are not familiar with what your gestures mean.

Suddenly, his breath draped itself over her neck and shoulders, bringing his musky yet tropical scent to her pallet. “So, you had better learn to ask.”

“Touch me, please.”  His hovering body cocooned her in a rivaling swirl of temperatures that swarmed across her flesh in search of balance.

The leather dollop tapped its way up her belly, and she dared a glimpse of him.  His dark hair shielded his caramel eyes and swooped along the bridge of his nose. But she barely captured that image before the leather pinched between her right nipple at that glass, rolling it and scraping it against the glass.  Her entire body arched at the pain of it, and wetness inside of her seeped and rolled down her thighs.

“Have you earned that privilege? You have not once come for me.”

Leather rolled down her body, zig-zagging against her ribs and the concave of her stomach, before invading her thighs and lips.  Coarse pleasure jolted her, but still she felt no other flesh against hers.

She looked down her body, through the small gap her breasts presented her with, to watch the man’s hand thrust a riding crop between her legs, digging into the pearl of her clit, and demanding she leap toward her first orgasm.  The pleasure crested as she watched, like she was being pulled through boiling water just fast enough to not get burned.

Cami wanted the burn.  She wanted the orgasm forced from her.  She wanted to hand over that control.  And she had no choice once her core exploded, spasming, jerking her body against the restraints and against the glass.

And his touch didn’t relent.  In fact, his thick fingers found the small slice of her lips and shoved past any last guard she had, invading her pleasure.

Her master had given her exactly what she’d asked for, on his own terms.