Top 10 Handsome Hollywood Actors

Do you  have a favorite heart throb you can just stare at on the big screen? I have to admit, I could go on for a while as I do have a long list of male eye candy I admire.

Hollywood Star Blog has listed their Top 10 for 2012, do you agree?

1- Bradley Cooper

2- Leonardo Dicaprio

3-Brad Pitt

4-Zac Efron

5-Will Smith

6-Tom Cruise

7-Chris Pine

8-Ryan Phillippe

9-James Edward Franco

10-Josh Duhamel

50 Shades Freed by E.L. Woods

He reaches for his zipper and my mouth goes dry as his erection springs free.

He smirks “You like?” he whispers.

“Hmm,” I murmur appreciatively.  He wraps his hand around himself and moves it up and down… Oh my. I gaze up at him through my lashes.  Fuck, he’s so sexy.

“You’re biting your lip, Mrs. Grey.”

That’s because I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?” His mouth opens in surprise, and his eyes widen a fraction.

“Hmm…” I agree and lick my lips.

He gives me a his enigmatic smile and bites his lower lip as he continues to stroke himself. Why is the sight of my husband pleasuring himself such a turn-on?

“I see. You should have eaten your dinner.” He tone is mocking and censorious at once. “But maybe I can oblige.” He puts his hands on my waist. “Stand,” he says softly, and I know what he’s going to do. I get to my feet, my legs no longer shaking”

“Kneel.”

I do as I’m told and kneel down on the col tiled floor of the bathroom. He slides forward on the seat of the chair.

“Kiss me,” he utters, holding his erection. I glance up at him, and he runs his tongue over his top teeth. It’s arousing, very arousing, to see his desire, his naked desire for me and my mouth. Leaning forward, my eyes on his, I kiss the tip of his erection.  I watch him inhale sharply and clench his teeth.  Christina cups the side of my head, and I run my tongue over the tip, tasting the small bead of dew on the end. Hmm… he tastes good. His mouth drops open farther as he gasps and I pounce, pulling him into my mouth and sucking hard.

“Ah-“ the air hisses through his teetch, and he flexes his hips forward, thrusting into my mouth. But I don’t stop. Sheathing my teeth behind my lips, I push down and then pull up on him. He moves both hands so that he fully cups my head, buring his finger into my hair and he slowly eases himself in and out of my mouth, his breathing quickening, growing harsher. I twirl my tongue around his tip and push down again in perfect counterpoint to him.

“Jesus, Ana.” He sighes and screws his eyes shut tightly.  He’s lost and it’s heady, his response to me. Me. And very slowly I draw my lips back, so it’s just my teeth.

“Ah!” Christian stops moving. Leaning forward he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap.

“Enough!” he growls. Reach behind me, he frees my hands with one tug on my panties. I flex my wrists and stare from under my lashes into scorching eyes that gaze back at me with love and longing and lust. And I realise it’s me that wants to fuck him seven shades of Sunday. I want him badly.  I want to watch him come apart beneath me. I grab his erection and scoot over him. Placing my other hand on his shoulder, very gently and slowly, I ease myself onto him.  He makes a guttural, feral noise deep in his throat and, reaching up, pulls off my blouse, letting it fall to the floor. His hands move to my hips.

“Still,” he rasps, his hands digging into my flesh. “Please, let me savor this. Savor you.”

I stop. Oh my… he feels so good inside me. He caresses my face, his eyes wide and wild, his lips parted as he breathes. He flexes  beneath me and I moan, closing my eyes.

“This is my favorite place,” he whispers. “Inside you. Inside my wife.”

Oh fuck. Christian.  I cannot hold back. My fingers glide into his wet hair, my lips seek his, and I start to move. Up and down on my toes, savoring him, savoring me. He groans loudly, and his hands are in my hair and around my back, and his tongue invades my mouth greedily, taking all that I’m willingly give. After all our arguing today, my frustration with  him, his with me – we still have this.  We will always have this. I love him so much, and it’s almost overwhelming. His hands move to my backside and he controls me, moving me up and down, again and again, at his pace – his hot, slick tempo.

“Ah,” I groan helplessly into his mouth as I’m carried away.

“Yes. Yes, Ana,” He hisses, and I rain kisses on his face, his chin, his jaw, his neck. “Baby,” he breathes, capturing my mouth once more.

“Oh, Christian, I love you. I will always love you.” I’m breathless, wanting him to know, wanting him to be sure of me after our battle of wills today.

He moans loudly and wraps his arms around me tightly as he climaxes with a mournful sob, and it’s enough – enough to push me over the bring once more. I clutch my arms around his head and let go, and I come around him, tears springing to my eyes because I love him so much.

“Shit! Christ!” Christina curses, and a dish clatters onto the countertop.

Oh Fifty!  “You okay?”

“Yes!” he snaps, his voice tight. A moment later, he’s standing beside me once more.

“I just burned myself. Here.” He eases his index finger into my mouth. “Maybe you could suck it better.”

“Oh.” Clasping his hand, I draw his finger slowly from my mouth. “There, there,” I soothe, and leaning forward I blow, cooling his finger, then kissing it gently twice. He stops breathing. I reinsert it into my mouth and suck gently. He inhales sharply, and the sound travels straight to my groin. He tastes as delicious as ever, and I realize that his is his game – the slow sedecution of his wife. I thought he was mad, and now…? This man, my husband, is so confusing. But this is how I like him. Playful. Fun. Sexy as hell. He’s given me some answers but I’m greedy. I want more, but I want to play, too. After the anxiety and tension of today, and the nightmare of last night with Jack, this is welcome diversion.

“What are you thinking?” Christian murmurs, stopping my thoughts in their tracks as he pulls  his finger out of my mouth.

“How mercurial you are.”

He stills beside me. “Fifty Shades, baby,” he says eventually and plants a tender kiss at the corner of my mouth.

“My Fifty Shades,” I whisper. Grabbing his T-shirt, I pull him back to me.

“Oh no you don’t, Mrs. Grey. No touching… not yet.” He takes my hand, pries it off his T-shirt and kisses each finger in turn.

“Sit up,” he commands.

I pout.

“I will spank you if you pout. Now open wide.”

Oh shit. I open my mouth, and he pops in a forkful of spicy hot lamb covered in a cool, minty, yougert sauce. Mmm. I chew.

     

The Greek Masseur by Lady D

I lay there letting the soft music wash over me, willing the stresses of the week to wash away. I try not to think about the documents waiting for me on my desk back at the office or the dinner party I’m hosting for my girlfriends on Saturday – there’s still so much to do. I make a mental note of the food I still need to buy, the signature cocktail for the night, and the fresh flowers for the table – pink tulips I think. Stacey’s favorite flowers are tulips and match the theme of her upcoming wedding.

Relax, Laura, try to enjoy this and turn your brain off for the next hour and don’t think about anything else, I tell myself.  This is my one indulgence, my one opportunity to not worry about anything else in the world. I love coming to have Tyler work his magic on my body. His strong hands have a way of making my entire body hum.

I try clear my mind again. I relish the heat from the warming blanket the covers my naked back while I take deep breaths and sink further into the bed.  The music changes to the gentle strumming of a classical guitar and brings me back to a recent trip to Jamaica, drinks on the beach and dancing in the moonlight.

My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. 

“Ready,” I murmur.  The door slides open and in walks someone I’m sure is a decent of a Greek god. His blonde hair is slightly tousled and his white t-shirt tight across his wide shoulders and chest, showing off his exquisitely formed muscles. The view alone is worth coming here. The fact Tyler seems to find every knot in my back and work his magic with those hands ensures I keep coming back on a regular basis.

“Hi Laura, how are you doing?”  Tyler asks as he approaches the bed.

“Better now that I’m here…” I hear myself respond. I suddenly hope Tyler doesn’t detect the tone in my voice.  I’m not one to let a guy know I’m attracted to him and I’m sure I’m not the first client of Tyler’s to make a pass at him. If Tyler only knew all the wicked things I wanted to do to him.

Tyler flashes a gorgeous smile my way and grabs the bottle of massage oil off the table. 

“Are you warm enough Laura?” He knows I like to be warm. The room is always at a comfortable temperature and I think he got the warming blanket especially for me – I always seem to get cold quickly. Tyler deserves the generous tip he gets at each visit, he takes the time to remember exactly what I like.

I try not to let my thoughts go in that direction, but all I can think of saying is ‘I know how you can warm me up,’ as I feel my heart beat quicken at the thought.

“mmmmm,” I respond, waiting for his hands to touch my body.

I hear him squirt some oil in his hands and my body tenses in anticipation. My body responds immediately as Tyler slowly starts to run his hands up and down my back, kneading and pulling on my muscles as he goes. Moving from the top of my back, slowly working lower and lower, I feel one type of tension replaced by another.  Tyler pulls the blanket back so it’s only covering my ass and works on my lower back.

I imagine for a moment his hands going lower still and I feel a warmth spread through my stomach. Oh, the things those strong fingers could do to me.  Another kind of stress relief I could sure benefit from. How long as it been?  Too long, that’s for sure. I moan without realising I’m doing it. I get caught up in the moment and the glorious feeling of his hands on my body.

I suddenly realise, it’s not my imagination any more. His hands have dipped below the blanket, massaging my ass cheeks. I have a split moment of hesitation and decide to forget about being a proper lady for once and throw caution to the wind. The tigress has been released and is ready to play.

Tyler must have felt my body tense then relax once I realised what he was doing.  He seemed to sigh with pleasure as he continued his massage.  His efforts seemed to intensify when he felt my silent acceptance.

Adjusting the blanket, he moved to my feet. This massage was unlike any I had ever reached from him in the pass. It was like he knew all the right buttons to push. He gently pushed his thumbs into the arch of my foot and I could feel the sensation travel all the way up my legs, the feeling seemed to set my pussy on fire.

Tyler hasn’t said a word to me. He continues to work his magic, slowly making his way up my legs. He pauses at the sensitive spot behind my knees and I know why. This man knows all the right spots, doesn’t he? I wonder if I can take him home with me.

Tyler continues up, higher and higher. I can sense his hesitation as he moves into the parts that are usually off limits. In my head I’m screaming at him, “Don’t you dare stop now, you better finish what you’ve started.”

I can feel my panties gently pulled to the side and he starts to tease me.  Lightly caressing me, until I’m ready to scream in frustration.

Oh so slowly, Tyler inserts his finger into my wetness. You can tell he’s still tentative, just waiting for me to tell him to stop. I decide to ease his apprehension.  I can no longer hold it back. I moan my desire and start to move my hips in counteraction to his finger, making his finger slide even deeper in me. Now he knows I mean business.

Tyler slowly pulls his finger out of me, finds my clit and starts to massage it. I’m becoming so wet, the exquisite pressure is building.  I slow myself down – I want to make this last. I am paying for a full hour after all.

“You’ve missed a few spots you know,” I comment to Tyler.  I think he’s taken back by my boldness and stops what he’s doing. This gives me the opportunity to quickly flip over so my breasts are fully exposed to him.

Tyler’s face breaks into a smile and my breath is taken away. I’m not sure what’s attracted this god to me, but you sure won’t hear any complaints from me.  He starts to move towards the head of the bed and I’m wondering what he’s going to do next. I can feel his eyes devouring every inch of me, exploring every curve.

He pauses beside the bed and finally he speaks. “I’m going to kiss you now Laura. Do I have your permission?” My permission? Now he asks? After he violated me with his fingers? 

“Yes please.” Please? Really? I feel like I’m back in high school, the anxiety of that first kiss with your new boyfriend.

Tyler puts his hands on either side of me on the bed.  Slowly he dips his gold head down, lower… I stare at his mouth, his deep blue eyes. A girl could get lost in those eyes and that’s exactly what I do. Does he know the kind of effect he has on women? A smirk plays across his lips as he finally leans over and our mouths collide.

Amazing! His mouth is hot against mind, opening my mouth our tongues dual while I reach my arms up and sink my fingers into his glorious hair.  So soft.  I don’t stop there. I find myself running my hands along those broad shoulders, down his arms and back again. What I had admired from a distance, I now have free access to – I take advantage of the situation.

Tyler pulls his head back from our kiss for a moment.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, searching my eyes for any hesitation.

“Very sure,” I respond. Like I’m going to walk away now.

That seems to be all he needs. He leans back to continue our kiss, his hands move to my breasts. Ooooh, those hands. His large hands are warm against my skin, firmly yet gently kneading them, twisting at my nipples until they are hard peaks.

He releases my mouth to take my nipples into his mouth and continues his assault. Heavenly. I close my eyes and let the background music sink in. Sounds of nature. I close my eyes and imagine myself miles away from this room, on a blanket beside a rushing stream – where it’s just Tyler and I and those amazing hands. I’m ready to burst from all the attention Tyler is giving my breasts. I grab his head to hold him in one spot, almost begging him to hurry yet enjoying every minute.

Tyler’s mouth trails hot, wet kisses down my stomach, to the edge of the blanket. His fingers following his kisses, still massaging as he goes. He lifts his head and kisses me deeply, our tongues rubbing against each other. His left hand slides under the blanket and into my panties again to continue what he started earlier.

I lift my knees and arch my hips to give him easier access to the prize.  I’m so wet he doesn’t even need to wait. He slides two fingers deep inside me, using his thumb to circle my clit. I can feel myself start to climax. I feel my body clench around his fingers and I explode.  It’s been so long and he’s so good with those damn hands. It’s a good thing he’s still kissing me, it stifles my scream.

Tyler releases me and smiles down at me.

“That looked like it was good baby. Think you can handle another one?” Another one I think? I can still feel my body pulsating from the first one.

Tyler walks away from the table for a moment, as I lay there enjoying the glow of my orgasm.  He comes back to the table without his shirt and his zipper open.  A cock any guy would be jealous of and women would kneel before, is already out with condom on. My, he sure comes prepared.

“Come down to the edge of the bed,” Tyler instructs me. I suddenly have a feeling I’m not the first client who’s received this special attention. I banish that thought from my head and eagerly move down to the bottom of the bed and put my feet up on the bed. He pulls my panties down my legs and lays them across the rest of my clothes resting on the chair.

“Mmmmm, that’s good.” He grabs my hips and pulls me closer to the edge.

“Now put your legs around me.” I do as I’m told and feel his cock slide into me. Wow, and I thought his hands were a treat. I’m so tight and his cock is so hard. He must be so deep inside of me.

Slowly Tyler starts to move back and forth, slowly sliding in and out and I can feel the pressure start to build again. Tyler moves his hands off my hips and starts to play with my breasts. He sure knows how to show a girl a good time. Mental note to give this guy a really big tip.

I’m building to a feverish peak again. I know what I need. I reach down between us and start to play with my clit.  Tyler’s eye’s dance with amusement.

“Ah, a naughty girl you are. You know how to get yourself off.”

“A girls’ gotta do, what a girls’ gotta do.” I smile back at him.  If he only knew the truth about me. Maybe he would come back home with me and I could show him some of my own tricks.

Tyler renews his efforts, plunging that glorious cock deeper in me, faster. I can feel it coming again. I grab his arm with my free hand and dig my nails into.  One more flick of my finger and I’m sailing once more.  Careful to keep my scream to myself this time, I look up at Tyler just in time to see him the moment he achieves his release. He collapses towards me, bracing himself on either side of my body while we both try to catch our breathes.

Tyler regains his composure a lot more quickly then I.  He pulls his cock out of me, and quietly walks away from the table to take care of business.

He comes back to the table, gently lays the blanket back over my naked body.  Leans over and gives me a gentle kiss.

“You look so beautiful with a smile on your face Laura. It makes me very happy to know I helped put that smile there.” Oh yes you did Tyler, yes you did.

“I’ll see you again soon I hope?” Tyler asks? Searching my face for some type of indication of what I’m thinking. I’m not sure what I’m thinking. As reality comes back to me, I start to wonder what this all meant.

I smile up at Tyler and nod my head. Yes, if he wants me to come back, then come back I shall.

I sigh and look up at the clock. My hour is over the next client is due to come in soon. I better hurry.

Reaching for my clothes, I notice a business card sitting on top with a brief note written across the back.

“Future massages can be given after hours. Call me. T”

I dress quickly and leave with a huge smile on my face.

Magic Mike: Who's your Fav

Not just one but FIVE hot guys to choose from.  So much eye candy, how can you pick just one spot on the big screen to stare at?  Magic Mike came out in theatres June 29th and women all over North America are getting all hot and bothered... can you blame them?

If you had to choose, who woud you like to have your own private dance with?

Save a horse, ride a coyboy!  Alex Pettyfer would do quite nicely.

Damn that's hot! Joe Manganiello sure fills those jeans well, but the jeans would look a lot better on the floor.

Dreamy Matthew McConaughey, as always, looking tasty enough to eat.

Never heard of Matt Bomer before, but I sure wouldn't kick out of bed for eating crackers.

And of course, Magic Mike himself - Channing Tatum. What kind of magic can he do in bed I wonder?

Why settle for just one when you can enjoy all of them. These men are sure to give you a very pleasant evening. Enjoy the show!

50 Shades Darker (#3) by E.L. Woods

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his gaze heated yet anxious.

“Yes,” I murmur, smiling shyly at  him.

His eyes soften, “Anything you don’t want to do?”

I’m derailed by his unexpected question; and my mind goes into overdrive. One thought occurs. “I don’t want you to take photos of me.”

He stills, and his expression hardens as he cocks his head to one side and eyes me speculatively.

 Oh shit.  I think he’s going to ask me why, but fortunately he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he murmurs. His brow furrows as he unlocks the door, then stands aside to usher me into the room. I feel his eyes on me as he follows me inside and closes the door.

Placing the gift box on the chest of drawers, he takes out the iPod, switches it on, then waves at the music center on the wall so that the smoked glass doors silently open. He presses some buttons, and the sound of a subway train echoes around the room. He turns it down  so that the slow, hypnotic electronic beat that follows becomes ambient. A woman starts to sing, I don’t know who she is but her voice is soft yet rasping and the beat is measured, deliberate… erotic. Oh my.  It’s music to make love to.

Christina turns to face me as I stand in the middle of the room, my heart pounding, my blood singing in my veins, pulsing – or so it feels – in time to the music’s seductive beat. He saunters casually over to me and tugs on my chin so I’m no longer biting my lip.

“What do you want to do, Anastasia?” he murmurs, planting a soft chaste kiss at the corner of my mouth, his fingers still grasping my chin.

“It’s your birthday. Whatever you want,” I whisper. He traces his thumb along my lower lip, his brown creased once more.

“Are we in here because you think I want to be in here?” His words are softly spoke, but he regards me intently.

“No,” I whisper. “I want to be in here, too.”

His gaze darkens, growing bolder as he assesses my response. After what seems an eternity, he speaks.

“Oh, there are so many possibilities, Miss Steele.” His voice is low, excited. “But let’s start with getting you naked.” He pulls the sash of my robe so that it falls open, revealing my silk nightdress, then steps back and sits down nonchalantly on the arm of the chesterfield couch.

“Take your clothes off. Slowly.” He gives me a sensual, challenging look.

I swallow compulsively, pressing my thighs together. I’m already damp between my legs. My inner goddess is stripped naked and standing in line, ready and waiting and begging me to play catch-up. I pull the robe away from my shoulders, my eyes never leaving his, and shrug, letting it fall billowing to the floor. His mesmerizing gray eyes heat, and he runs his index finger over his lips as he gazes at me.

Slipping the spaghetti straps of my gown off my shoulders, I gaze at him for a beat, then release them. My nightdress skims and ripples softly down my body, pooling at my feet. I am naked and practically panting and oh-so-ready.

Christian pauses for a moment, and I marvel at the frankly carnal appreciation in his expression. Standing up, he makes his way over to the chest and picks up his silver gray tie – my favorite tie. He pulls it through his fingers as he turns and strolls casually toward me, a smile playing on his lips. When he stands in front of me, I expect him to ask for my hands, but he doesn’t.

“I think you’re underdressed, Miss Steele,” he murmurs. He places the tie around my neck, slowly but dexterously ties it in what I assume is a fine Windsor knot. As he tightens the knot, his fingers brush the base of my throat and electricity shoots through me, making me gasp. He leaves the wide end of the tie long, long enough so the tip skims my pubic hair.

“You look mighty fine now, Miss Steel,” he says and bends to kiss me gently on my lips. It’s a swift kiss, and I want more, desire spiraling wantonly through my body.

“What shall we do with you now? He says, and then picking up the tie, he yanks sharply so that I’m forced forward into his arms. His hands dive into my hair and pull my head back, and he really kisses me, hard, his tongue unforgiving and merciless. One of his hands roams freely down my back to cup my behind. When he pulls away, he’s panting too and gazing down at me, his eyes molten gray; I’m left wanting, gasping for breath, my wits thoroughly scattered. I’m sure my lips will be swollen after his sensual assault.

“Turn around,” he orders gently and I obey. Pulling my hair free of the tie, he quickly braids and secures it. He tugs the braid so my head tilts up.

“You have beautiful hair, Anastasia,” he murmurs and kisses my throat, sending shivers running up and down my spine. “You just have to say stop. You know that, don’t you?” he whispers against my throat.

I nod, my eyes closed, and relish his lips on me. He turns me around once more and picks up the end of the tie.

“Come,” he says, tugging gently, leading me over to the chest where the rest of the box’s contents are on display.

“Anastasia, these objects.” He holds up the butt plug, “This is a size too big. As an anal virgin, you don’t want to start with this. We want to start with this.” He holds up his pinkie finger and I gasp, shocked. Fingers…there?  He smirks at me, and the unpleasant thought of the anal fisting mentioned in the contract comes to mind.

“Just finger – singular,” he says softly with that uncanny ability he has to read my mind. My eyes dart to his. How does he do that?

“These clamps are vicious.” He prods the nipple clamps. “We’ll use these.” He places a different pair of clamps on the chest. They look like giant black hairpins but with little jet jewels hanging down. “They’re adjustable,” Christian murmurs, his voice laced with gentle concern.

I blink up at him, wide-eyed. Christian, my sexual mentor. He knows so much more about all of this than I do.  I’ll never catch up. I frown. He knows more than me about most things… except cooking.

“Clear?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper, my mouth dry. “Are you going to tell me what you intend to do?”

“No. I’m making this up as I go along. This isn’t a scene, Ana.”

“How should I behave?”

His brow creases. “However you want to.”

Oh!

“Were you expecting my alter ego, Anastasia?” He asks, his tone vaguely mocking and bemused at once. I blink at him.

“Well, yes. I like him,” I murmur. He smiles his private smile and reaches up to run his thumb down my cheek.

“Do you now,” he breathes and runs his thumb across my lower lip. “I’m your lover, Anastasia, not your Dom. I love to hear your laugh and your girlish giggle. I like you relaxed and happy, like you are in Jose’s photos.  That’s the girl that fell into my office. That’s the girl I fell in love with.”

My mouth drops open, and a welcome warmth blooms in my heart. It’s joy – pure joy.

“But having said all that, I also like to do rude things to you, Miss Steele, and my alter ego knows a trick or two. So, do as you’re told and turn around.” His eyes glint wickedly, and the joy moves shaprly south, seizing me tightly and gripping every sinew below my waist. I do as I’m told. Behind me, he opens one of the drawers and a moment later he’s in front of me again.

“Come,” he orders and tugs on the tie, leading me to the table. As we walk past the couch, I notice for the first time that all the canes have vanished. It distracts me. Were they there yesterday when I came in? I don’t remember. Did Christian move them? Mrs. Jones? Christian interrupts my train of thought.

“I want you to  kneel up on this,” he says when we’re at the table.

Oh, okay. What does he have in mind? My inner goddess can’t wait to find out – she’s already scissor-kicked onto the table and is watching him with adoration.

He gently lifts me onto the table, and I fold my legs beneath me and kneel in front of him, surprised by my own grace. Now we are eye to eye. He runs his hands down my thighs, grasps my knees, and pulls my legs apart and stands directly in front of me. He looks very serious, his eyes darker, hooded…lustful.

“Arms behind my back. I’m going to cuff you.”

He produces some leather cuffs from his back pocket and reaches around me. That is it. Where’s he going to take me this time?

His proximity is intoxicating. This man is going to be my husband. Can one lust after one’s husband like this? I don’t remember reading about that anywhere. I can’t resist him, and I run my parted lips along his jaw, feeling the stubble, a heady combination of prickly and soft, under my tongue. He stills and closes his eyes. His breathing falters and he pulls back.

“Stop. Or this will be over far quicker than either of us wants,” he warns. For a moment, I think he might be angry but then he smiles, and his heated eyes are alight with amusement.

“You’re irresistible.” I pout.

“Am I now?” he says dryly.

I nod.

“Well – don’t distract me, or I’ll gag you.”

I like distracting you,” I whisper, looking mulishly at him and he cocks his eyebrow at me.

“Or spank you.”

Oh! I try to hide my smile. There was a time, not very long ago, when I would have been subdued by this threat. I would never have had the nerve to kiss him, unbidden, while he was in this room. I realise now, I’m no longer intimidated by him. It’s a revelation. I grin mischievously, and he smirks at me.



   

50 Shades Darker (#2) by E.L. Woods

“Turn around,” he whispers. “I want to get you out of that dress.”

Another mercurial mood swing; it’s so hard to keep up. Obediently, I turn, and my heart is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark and yarning, low, low in my belly. He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape of my neck and achingly slow drags it down my spine, his fingernail grazing my skin.

“I like this dress,” he murmurs. “I like to see your flawless skin.”

His finger reaches the back of my halter dress midway down my spine, and hooking his finger beneath the top, he pulls me closer so that I step back against him so that he’s flush against my body. Leaning down, he inhales my hair.

“You smell so good, Anastasia. So sweet.” His nose skims past my ear down my neck, and he trails soft, feather light kisses along my shoulder.

My breathing changes, becoming shallow, rushed, full of expectation. His fingers are at my zipper. Achingly slow, once more he eases it down while his lips move, licking and kissing and sucking their way across to my other shoulder. He is so tantalizingly good at this. My body resonates, and I start to squirm languidly beneath his touch.

“You. Are. Going. To. Have. To. Learn. To. Keep. Still,” he whispers, kissing me around my nape between each word.

He tugs at the fastening at the halter neck, and the dress drops and pools at my feet.

“No bra, Miss Steele. I like that.”

His hands reach around and cup my breasts, and my nipples pucker at his touch.

“Lift your arms and put them around my head,” he murmurs against my neck.

I obey immediately, and my breast rise and push into his hands, my nipples hardening further. My fingers weave into his hair, and very gently I tug his soft, sexy hair. I roll my head to one side to give him easier access to my neck.

“Mmmm….” He murmurs into that space behind my ear as he starts to extend my nipples with his long fingers, mirroring my hands in his hair.

I groan as the sensation registers sharp and clear in my groin.

“Shall I make you come this way?” he whispers.

I arch my back to force my breasts into his expert hands.

“You like this, don’t you, Miss Steele?”

“Mmmm…”

“Tell me.” He continues the slow, sensuous torture, pulling gently.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what.”

“Yes….Sir.”

“Good girl.” He pinches me hard, and my body writhers convulsively against his front.

 I gasp at the exquisite, acute pleasure/pain. I feel him against me. I moan and my hands clench in his hair pulling harder.

“I don’t think you’re ready to come yet,” he whispers, stilling his hands, he gently bites my earlobe and tugs at it. “Besides, you have displeased me.”

Oh…. No, what will this mean?  My brain registers through the fog of needy desire as I groan.

“So perhaps I won’t let you come after all.” He returns the attention of his fingers to my nipples, pulling, twisting, kneading. I grind my behind against him…. Moving side to side.

I feel his grin against my neck as his hands move down to my hips. His fingers hook into my panties at the back, stretching them, and he pushes his thumbs through the material, shredding them and tossing them in front of me so I can see…holy shit. His hands move down my sex, and from behind, he slowly inserts his finger.

”Oh yes. My sweet girl is ready,” he breathes as he whirls me around so I’m facing him. His breathing has quickened. He puts his finger in his mouth. “You taste so fine, Miss Steele.” He sighs.

Holy shit.  His finger tastes salty… from me.

“Undress me,” he commands quietly, staring down at me, eyes hooded.

All I’m wearing are my shoes – well, Kate’s high-heeled pumps. I’m taken aback. I’ve never undressed a man.

“You can do it,” he cajoles softly.

I blink rapidly. Where to start? I reach for his T-shirt, and he grabs my hands, smilling slyly at me.

“Oh no.” He shakes his head, grinning. “Not the T-shirt. You may need to touch me for what I have planned.” His eyes are alive with excitement.

Oh….this is news… I can touch with clothes. He takes one of my hands and places it against his erection.

“This is the effect you have on me, Miss Steele.”

I gasp and flex my fingers around his girth, and he grins.

“I want to be inside you.  Take my jeans off. You’re in charge.”

Holy fuck… me charge. My mouth drops open.

“What are you going to do with me?” he teases.

Oh, the possibilities… my inner goddess roars, and from somewhere born of frustration, need and sheer Steele bravery, I push him onto the bed. He laughs as he falls, and I gaze down at him, feeling victorious. My inner goddess is going go explode. I yank off his shoes, quickly, clumsily, and his socks. He’s staring up at me, his eyes luminous with amusement and desire. He looks …. Glorious…min. I crawl up the bed and sit astride him to undo his jeans, sliding my fingers under the waistband, feeling the hair in his oh-so-happy trail. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips.

“You’ll have to learn to keep still,” I scold, and I tug at the hair under his waistband.

His breath hitches, and he grins at me.

“Yes, Miss Steele,” he murmurs, eyes burning bright. “In my pocket, condom,” he breathes.

I search in his pocket slowly, watching his face as I feel around. His mouth is open. I fish out both foil packets that I find and lay them on the bed by his hips. Two!  My over-eager fingers reach for the button of his waistband and undo it, fumbling a little.  I am beyond excited.

“So eager, Miss Steele,” he murmurs, his voice laced with humor. I tug down the zipper, and now I’m faced with the problem of removing his pants… hmm.  I shuffle down and pull. They hardly move. I frown. How can this be so difficult?

“I can’t keep still if you’re going to bite that lip,” he warns, then arches his pelvis up off the bed so I’m able to tug down his trousers and his boxers at the same time, whoa…. Freeing him. He kicks his clothes to the floor.

Holy Moses, he’s all mine to play with, and suddenly it’s Christmas.

“now what are you going to do?” he breathes, all trace of humor gone. I reach up and touch him, watching his expression as I do. His mouth shapes like a letter O as he takes a sharp breath. His skin is so smooth and velvety… and hard… hum, what a delicious combination. I lean forward, my hair falling around me and he’s in my mouth. I suck, hard. He closes his eyes, his hips jerking beneath me.

“Jeez, Ana, steady,” he groans.

I feel so powerful; it’s such an exhilarating feeling, teashing and testing him with my mouth and tongue. He tenses underneath me as I run my mouth up and down him, pushing him to the back of my throat, my lips tight… again and again.

“Stop, Ana, stop. I don’t want to come.”

I sti up, blinking at hime, and I’m panting like him, but confused. I thought I was in charge? My inner goddess looks like someone snatched her ice cream.

“Your innocence and enthusiasm is very disarming,” he gasps. “You, on top… what’s what we need to do.”

Oh.

“Here, put this on.” He hands me a foil packet.

Holy crap. How?  I rip the packet open, and the rubbery condom is all tacky in my fingers.

“Pinch the top and then roll it down. You don’t want any air in the end of that sucker,” he pants.

And very slowly, concentrating hard, I do as I’m told.

“Christ, you’re killing me here, Anastasia,” he groans.

I admire my handiwork and him. He really is a fine specimen of a man. Looking at him is very, very arousing.

“Now, I want to be buried inside you,” he murumurs. I stare down at him, daunted, and he sits up suddenly, so we’re nose to nose.

“Like this,” he breathes, and he snakes one hand around my hips, lifting me, and with the other he positions himself beneath me and, very slowly, eases me onto him.

I groan as he stretches me open, filling me, my mouth hanging open in surprise at the sweet, sublime, agonizing, over-full feeling. Oh… please.

“That’s right baby, feel me, all of me,” he growls, and briefly closes his eyes.

And he’s inside me, sheathed to the hilt, and he holds me in place, for seconds … minutes … I have no idea, staring intently into my eyes.

“It’s deep this way,” he murmurs. He flexes and swivels his hips in the same motion, and I groan… oh my – the sensation radiates throughout my bell…. Everywhere. Fuck!

“Again,” I whisper. He grins a lazy grin and obliges.

Moaning, I throw my head up, my hair tumbling down my back, and very slowly he sinks down on to the bed.

“You move, Anastasia, up and down, how you want. Take my hands,” he breathes, his voice hoarse and low and oh-so-sexy.

I clasp his hands, holding on for life. Gently I push off him and back down. His eyes are burning with wild anticipation. My breathing is ragged, matching mine, and he lifts his pelvis as I come down, bouncing me back up. We pick up the rhythm up, down, up, down…. Over and over… and it feels so… good.

Between my panting breathes, the deep down, brimming fullness… the vehement sensation pulsing through me that’s building quickly, I watch him, our eyes locked… and I see wonder there, wonder at me.

I am fucking him. I am in charge. He’s mine, and I’m his. The thought pushes me, weighted with concrete, over the edge and I climax around him… shouting incoherently. He grabs my hips, and closing his eyes, tipping his head back, his jaw strained, he comes quietly. I collapse on to his chest, overwhelmed, somewhere between fantasy and reality, a place where there are no hard or soft limits.

   

50 Shades Darker by E.L. Woods

“Get off the bed. Stand over here.” He points to beside the bed, and I scramble up and off in double time. He stares intently down at me, his eyes glittering with promise. “Trust me?” he asks.

I nod. He holds out his hand, and in his palm are two shiny silver balls linked with a thick black thread.

“These are new,” he says emphatically.

I look questioningly up at him.

“I’m going to put these inside you, and then I’m going to spank you, not for punishment, but for your pleasure and mine.” He pauses, gauging my wide-eyed reaction.

Inside me!  I gasp, and all the muscles deep in my belly clench. My inner goddess is doing the dance of the seven veils.

“Then we’ll fuck, and if you’re still awake, I’ll impart some information about my formative years. Agreed?”

He’s asking my permission! Breathlessly, I nod. I’m imcapable of speech.

“Good girl. Open your mouth.”

Mouth?

“Wider.”

Very gently, he puts the balls in my mouth.

“They need lubrication. Suck,” he orders, his voice soft.

The balls are cold, smooth, surprisingly heavy, and metallic tasting. My dry mouth pools with siliva as my tongue explores the unfamiliar objects.  Christian’s glaze does not leave mine. Holy hell, this is turning me on. I Squirm.

“Keep still, Anastasia,” he warns.

“Stop.” He tugs them from my mouth. Moving towards the bed, he throws the duvet aside and sits down on the edge.

“Come here.”

I stand in front of him.

“Now turn around, bend down, and grab your ankles.”

I blink at him, and his expression darkens.

“Don’t hesitate,” he admonished me softly, an undercurrent in his voice, and he pops the balls in his mouth.

Fuck, this is sexier than the toothbrush. I follow his orders immediately. Jeez, can I touch my ankles? I find I can, with ease.  The T-shirt slides up my back, exposing my behind. Thank heavens I have retained my panties, but I suspect I won’t for long.

He places his hand  reverently on my backside and very softly caresses it with his whole hand. With my eyes open, I can see his legs through mine, nothing else. I close my eyes tightly as he gently moves my panties to the side and slowly runs his finger up and down my sex. My body braces itself in a heady mix of wild anticipation and arousal. He slides one finger inside me, and he circles it deliciously slowly. Oh, it feels good. I moan.

His breathing halts and I hear him gasp as he repeats the motion. He withdraws his finger and very slowly inserts the objects, one slow, delicious ball at a time. Oh my.  They’re body temperature, warmed by our collective mouths. It’s a curious feeling. Once they’re inside me, I can’t feel them – but then again I know they’re there.

He straightens my panties and leans forward, and his lips softly kiss my behind.

“Stand up,” he orders, and shakily I get to my feet.

Oh!  Now I can feel them…. Sort of. He grasps my hips to steady me while I  reestablsih my equilibrium.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice stern.

“Yes.”

“Turn around.” I turn and face him.

The balls pull downward and involuntarily I clench arund them. The feeling starles me but not in a bad way.

“How does that feel?” he asks.

“Strange.”

“Strange good or strange bad?”

“Strange good,” I confess, blushing.

“Good.” There’s a trace of humor lurking in his eyes.

“I want a glass of water. Go and fetch one for me please.”

Oh.

“And when you come back, I shall put you across my knee. Think about that , Anastasia.”

Water? He wants water – now – why?

As I leave the bedroom, it becomes abundantly clear why he wants me to walk around – as I do, the balls weigh down inside me, massaging me internally. It’s such a weird feeling and not entirely unpleasant. In fact, my breathing accelerates as I stretch up for a glass from the kitchen cabinet, and I gasp. Oh my… I may have to keep these.  They make me needy, needy for sex.

He’s watching me carefully when I return.

“Thank you,” he says as he takes the glass from me.

Slowly, he takes a sip, then places the glass on his bedside table. There’s a foil packet, ready and waiting, like me. And I know he’s doing this to build the anticipation. My heart has picked up a beat. He turns his bright gray gaze to mine.

“Come. Stand beside me. Like last time.”

I sidle up to him, my blood thrumming through my body, and this time… I’m excited. Aroused.

“Ask me,” he says softly.

I frown. Ask him what?

“Ask me,” his voice is slightly hard.

What? How was your water? What does he want?

“Ask me, Anastasia. I won’t say it again.” And there’s such a threat implicit in his words, and it dawns on me. He wants me to ask him to spank me.

Holy shit. He’s looking at me expantantly, his eyes growing colder. Shit.

“Spank me, please… Sir,” I whisper.

He closes his eyes momentarily, savoring my words. Reaching up, he grasps my left hand and he tugs me over his knees. I fall instantly, and he steadies me as I land in his lap. My heart is in my mouth as his hand gently strokes my behind. I’m angled across his lap again so that my torso rests on the bed beside him. This time he doesn’t throw his leg over mine but smoothes my hair out of my face and tucks it behind my ear. Once he’s done, he clasps my hair at the nape to hold me in place. He tugs gently and my head shifts back.

“I want to see your face while I spank you, Anastasia,” he murmurs, all the while softly rubbing my backside.

His hands moves down between the cheeks of my behind, and he pushes against my sex, and the full feeling is … I moan. Oh, the sensation is exquisite.

“This is for pleasure, Anastasia, mine and yours,” he whispers. He lifts his hand and brings it down in a resounding slap against the junction of my thighs, by behind, and my sex. The balls are forced forward inside of me, and I’m lost in a quagmire of sensation. The stinging across my behind, the fullness of the balls inside me, and the fact that he’s holding me down. I screw my face up as my faculties attempt to absorb all these foreign feelings. I note somewhere in my brain that he’s not smacked me as hard as last time. He caresses my backside again, trailing his palm across my skin and over my underwear.

Why’s he not removed my panties?  Then his palm disappears, and he brings it down again. I groan as the sensation spreads. He starts a pattern: left to right and then down. The down ones are the best. Everything moving forward, inside me… and in between each smack he caresses me, kneads me – so I am massaged inside and out. It’s such a stimulating, erotic feeling, and for some reason, because this is on my terms, I don’t mind the pain. It’s not painful as such – well, it is, but not unbearable. It’s somehow manageable and, yes, pleasurable…even. I groan. Yes, I can do this.

He pauses as he slowly peels my panties down my legs. I writhe on his legs, not because I want to escape the blows, but I want more… release, something. His touch against my sensitized skin is all sensuous tingle. It’s overwhelming, and he starts again. A few soft slaps, then building up, left to right and down. Oh the downs. I groan.

“Good girl, Anastasia,” he groans, and his breathing is ragged.

He spanks me twice more, and then he pulls at the small threads attached to the balls and jerks them out of me suddenly, I almost climax – the feeling is out of this world. Moving swiftly, he gently turns me over. I hear rather then see the rip of the foil packet, and then he’s lying beside me. He seizes my hands, hoists them over my head, and eases himself onto me, into me, sliding slowly, filling me where the silver globes have been. I groan loudly.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers as he moves back, forward, a slow sensual temp, savoring me, feeling me.

It is the most gentle he has ever been, and it takes no time at all for me to fall over the edge, spiraling into a delicious, violent, exhausting orgasm. As I clench around him, it ignites his release, and he slides into me, stilling, gasping out my name in desperate wonder.

“Ana!”

He’s silent and panting on top of me, his hands still entwined in mine above my head. Finally, he leans back and stares down at me.

“I enjoyed that,” he whispers, and then kisses me sweetly.

He doesn’t linger for more sweet kisses but rises, covers me with the duvet, and disappears into the bathroom. On his return, he’s carrying a bottle of white lotion. He sits beside me on the bed.

“Roll over,” he orders, and begrudgingly I move onto my front.

Honestly, all this fuss. I feel very sleepy.

“Your ass is a glorious color,” he says approvingly, and he tenderly massages the cooling lotion into my pink behind.