Gracie\'s Playground

The Room
Tuesday August 25th 2015, 9:07 pm
Filed under: Grace,Mindfuck,Oral
Photo by Rick Legal

Photo by Rick Legal

The room had one pathetic excuse for a lamp lit. There was a haze that lingered at the ceiling from tobacco smoke and other vices. The black out curtains had been drawn the whole weekend unless they were thrown open to fuck against the frigid bay window overlooking the city lights.

He was sitting at the small wobbly table frantically writing away in a worn notebook. You could always tell when he was in a trance by the cigarette burning away loosely between his lips. He never bothered to wipe away the fallen ashes.

She was lying on her stomach watching him from the bed. The covers littered the floor along with clothes that were strewn from two nights prior. The maid hadn’t seen the inside of the room since the previous occupants vacated.

There was a slight mannerism that caused her to crawl to him from her comfortable spot. He had extinguished the cigarette and licked his lips. His oral fixation was already nagging. This very act caused her insides to stir and she made her way to him. He didn’t even notice she was on the ground beside him. It was when she grabbed his left hand and pushed his lean fingers into her mouth that he snapped to reality. She licked the tobacco stained fingertips. He dropped the pen to the table and it rolled to the floor.

Eyes locked. Lust filled as if it were the first time. Over and over.

He pulled her up, pushed her to the bed, spread her legs and devoured her. Her arms flailed about reaching for a savor and found his head full of hair. She pulled him into her. She wanted to meld into him so there would never be this separation of the world between them. His mouth and fingers pushed her into another plane of existence. She was out of her body in the smoky haze above the bed. When she screamed obscenities into the stale air he knew he found the right spot and rhythm. He wouldn’t stop. She yelled in one syllable words and words he had never heard before. She saw bright lights and her body erupted without her consent. She wanted to ball up but he never allowed it. These orgasms were not for her but for him.

The tears flowed. She didn’t want him to stop. She knew in fifteen minutes she would be pining for more.

“No” and “Stop” were not in her vocabulary.

He always knew just when to stop and also knew when she would crawl back for more. It was when she passed out from the intensity of it all that he moved from the bed back to the wobbly table. Found his pen. Found a cigarette and lit it. He was back in his writing trance.

Special “Thank you” to Urban Sanyaasi for the inspiration.

Photo Credit:
Rick Legal
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Numbers
Friday July 17th 2015, 8:54 pm
Filed under: Grace,Masturbation,Mindfuck
Photo by Rick Legal

Photo by Rick Legal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

20 days sick.

7 months since sex.

5 hours of reading his words.

2 photos sent.

30 minutes of legs shaking.

1 skirt hiked up to the waist.

1 pair of panties slid to the side.

1 hand gripping the headboard.

1 hand gripping the vibrator.

14 minutes of fucking myself.

2 pairs of drenched panties.

2 times his name was moaned.

3 bites to the lower left side of the lip.

Countless gasps.

Countless orgasms.

0 panties on.

 

Thank you.

 

Photo Credit:
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Sex Dream
Thursday April 30th 2015, 9:56 am
Filed under: Mindfuck,Oral
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Photo by Rick Legal

I’m lying in some small room or maybe even in some kind of vehicle. Two guys accompany me: one behind me by my head and the other in my view. He dips his dirty middle finger inside my cunt.

“Oh, she’s wet,” he gloats.

I distinctly remember seeing the glisten of my wetness on his finger when he pulled out to show his other male companion. I am not happy with this man in front of me. Yet when his finger penetrated me, I had no choice but to feel this longing ache somewhat triggered and satisfied.

I push the dirty man away from me and choose the silent one behind me to take over. Our bodies shuffle around and he chooses to put his head between my legs. I was not expecting this act but his head goes down I gasp. It has been so long that the anticipation had gotten the better of me. His face shoots up in alarm. I close my eyes and try to calm down. I’m sure in reality I was moaning in my sleep. In the dream I pushed my head to the back of his head.

My alarm goes off and I don’t come.

Fucking dreams.

Fucking life.

I need to get laid. Even my subconscious tells me so.

Photo Credit:
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I am still here…
Friday February 20th 2015, 11:41 am
Filed under: Grace,Masturbation,Mindfuck
rick_legal

Photo by Rick Legal

I am still here and around. People are starting to ask if I am still alive. Yes, I am. I meant to write something the other day and as usual life got in the way.

Life seems to be getting in the way a lot lately and why I’ve grown so quiet these past months. This isn’t a bad thing. I am still having orgasms and seeing/talking to people. Things are just a little different.

I will continue to write when I can and hopefully soon.

I won’t tell you to hold your breath because that would be cruel, all though I can be cruel. What I wouldn’t give for a hand wrapped around my throat right now…

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A Letter
Sunday August 17th 2014, 9:59 am
Filed under: Grace,Masturbation,Mindfuck,Sex
Photo by Rick Legal

Photo by Rick Legal

[Redacted],

I’m nestled in bed and woke up hung over. I wondered if last night was some elaborate dream. Then I saw the pile of blanket and towels on the floor. That was so real. My body feels almost sated, almost. Never quite. It’s not begging me for sex in that biological way.

I can’t even imagine what it will be like in the flesh. Will I be so over stimulated that I will get lost in such physical interactions? I want to find out. I want to see the man behind the curtain. The man that was building me up for days till I exploded with uncontrollable desire, need and lust. Was it calculated or luck on your part? How many women have left in a quivering heap of wet, sweat and tears? Is this your foreplay? What happens when we are eye to eye, do you play out the acts you so delicately described?

No, no one has achieved what you did to me last night. Every word that came from your fingertips was a thrust into my psyche that shot between my legs. The moans the left my lips, the wetness the dripped down my thighs, it was all very physical and yet I wanted nothing more than to hear you, to know your arousal was equally matched to mine and I wanted your orgasm. I wanted us equally matched on this mental plane. You were so deep inside me.

Thank you for the intentional or non-intentional evening with you. It can only get better from here, right?

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