Oral Dilemma: Velvet and Sorbet

It seems things are falling into place for Roxanne. Every rose has it's thorn though, and it seems  fate has dealt her some bad cards. 

Oral Dilemma:

Velvet and Sorbet

by 

Ellie Mack

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here.  
Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here. 
Read part 9 here. 
 

  Luke and I worked together to make one of our special meals to share with Tara and mom. Luke was amazing in the kitchen and I think I learned more from him than I had from mom. We flowed smoothly like a choreographed dance. He seasoned the salmon fillets and prepared the stuffed zucchini for the grill while I chopped the veggies for the stuffing and tossed the salad. As he would step behind me to return the seasonings to the cabinet, his arm would snake around my waist and he’d nibble on my neck or ear.

By the time mom arrived home from work we had everything ready, and the salmon was just ready to take from the grill. She eagerly hugged me, her eyes welling with tears as she said “I thought you weren’t coming home till after finals.”

Luke came up behind me at that moment and I couldn’t help but blush. “Well, um mom. We wanted to surprise you.”

Luke served her a generous plate full, she seemed to have dropped twenty pounds at least; she really was quite thin. I poured the Pinot Grigio while Luke filled our plates. Mom picked at her food not eating much of it.

“Don’t you like it? I can fix you something else mom, if you don’t.”

She sighed and set down her fork. She raised her hands, holding her head in her hands for a bit. “It’s not that Roxy. It all looks and tastes lovely. It’s better than I’ve had at restaurants. It’s just.”

I could see the worry on her face. “Tara told me about the cancer mom. You don’t have to hide it from me. She was worried about you.” I reached over to squeeze her hand. As I did her eyes welled with tears.

“ Oh damn. Roxy I.” Her lip quivered a bit before she could continue. Then with a big sigh “ It’s not like I was trying to hide it from you. I didn’t want to worry you.” She gave an awkward little laugh. “I mean when is a good time to tell your kids, hey girls mom has breast cancer and I’m gonna have to get my boobs cut off.”

The tears flowed. “I’ve already started the chemo, but I’m going to stop.”

“Mom! NO! You need it.”

“NO, Roxy. I just came from the doctor’s office, and I'd have to have a radical mastectomy.” She slammed the wine. Luke poured her some more. “It’s stage 4 Rox. I’m a nurse, I’ve cared for patients for years. Ha.” The awkward little laugh again. “Well on the bright side, there’s no point in a mastectomy.”

She stood pacing around the room. ”Not a conversation I ever envisioned having with my girls. Tara doesn’t even know about this part, I just found out. She swiped at her eyes turning away taking deep breaths. ”It’s spread beyond my lymph nodes. It’s spread to my bones and brain now Roxy. Doctor Meehan gave me 6 to 9 months.” She swiped her eyes again then returned to the table and took a few more bites.

“It really is good. I’ve just been so upset. Not easy hearing bad news like this.” She nibbled a few bites of everything. “Luke, where did you learn to cook like this? I hope you’re better at teaching Roxy to cook than I was. Afraid I was always working and didn’t take the time to . . . “ She trailed off taking a few more bites.

“It’s OK mom. I wasn’t the best student. Always wanted to spend my time on other things. Luke has really helped me to cook healthy foods, not that junk food I used to eat.”

We sat in silence for a short time before Luke and I began to clear the table. I came back with the special bottle of Velvet White wine that we’d bought to announce our engagement. I filled our glasses while Luke brought in the special dessert that he’d made; fresh peach mango sorbet.

“Wow! What is this? What’s going on?” Mom asked as Luke set hers in front of her.

“Well Mrs. Winters, Sharon. I was hoping to butter you up and get on your good side before I asked your permission to marry your daughter.”

“Tara? NO way! She’s only 16.” I could see the mischievous grin as she sipped her dessert wine.

“Mom! Stop it! Luke doesn’t know what a jokester you are.”

Both of us looking at Luke at that point seeing the flustered bewilderment that crossed his face.

“I know. Tara texted me. Said you had on a ring.” She grinned as she winked at Luke. “Any man that can cook like this and make my daughter so obviously happy is welcome.”

She reached for my hand. “ Now give over and let me see it. I’ve been dying to get a good look at it since I got the text.”

The rest of the evening was spent with idle chit chat, catching up and discussing plans for the summer and of course planning a wedding.

Luke was attentive to mom’s needs for the rest of the evening until she dozed off in the chair and decided she had to call it quits.

We stayed up watching a movie for a little longer wrapped in the soft cotton throw, Luke’s arms wrapped around me. Tender kisses were interspersed throughout the movie, until I fell asleep, safe in his arms knowing that whatever life threw at me I could manage it as long as I had Luke.

Oral Dilemma: Family Ties

Have you forgotten about Roxanne? When we last heard from her  she  and Luke  had just finished their matches and won. Then they celebrated afterwards.  
Let's see what  mischief they've gotten up to this time. 

Oral Dilemma:  Family Ties

by 

Ellie Mack  

Read Part 1 here. 

Read Part 2 here. 

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here. 

Read part 5 here. Read part 6 here.
Read part 7 here.  
Read part 8 here.



     There were 4 days left of spring break after the match, Luke wanted to take me home to meet his mom. I was nervous and scared of course. The whole time he packed my things I argued with him that we should wait until summer break. I argued and unpacked.

     After several rounds of repacking my things he stopped me, taking my hands in his. “Roxy! Sweetheart, trust me.” Then he kissed me deeply. I was always in trouble when he kissed me like that. My mind suddenly cleared of all the worries, all the what ifs and was soothed by Luke’s loving kisses. 

     “Go make us some tea while I finish packing. We’ll drive down, I’ll show you my hometown, have dinner with mom and she will love you. We’ll go out on a date, find something to do in that little town then go back to her house. Please Roxy, for me?”

     How could I argue? Especially when the man kissed me senseless. “Sure Luke, I can do that.” I walked into the kitchen with a sigh, placated for the moment. How bad could it be? I saw my reflection in the toaster, and turned from side to side. I suppose with makeup the bruises won’t show. I wouldn’t want anyone to think Luke had hit me. At that moment I got a call from my sister Tara.

     “Hey Roxanne, are you going to come home at all for spring break or just hide out up there?”

     “Well um, I hadn’t planned on coming home. I told you that on skype.” I heard a prolonged sigh. ”Mom said she was working every day, so I just figured I'd wait until after finals. Why? What is it?”

     “You know it’s boring around here since you moved out and mom is never home, and since she got the diagnosis I’ve just been really scared.” 

     “Wait, what diagnosis?” Silence. “Tara Marie, what are you talking about? What? Diagnosis? Talk to me.”

     A long exasperated sigh with a slight hitch came from my baby sister. “Mom wasn’t going to tell you until you came home for the summer, and then she was worried that she wouldn’t have enough time before we left for dad’s.”

     “Tara, what diagnosis?” She was beginning to worry me. "Enough time?  Enough time for what?" 

     “She asked me not to tell you but I’m scared Roxy.” She was crying now.

     “Tara. I, honey you gotta tell me what’s going on. I don’t have a clue as to what you are talking about.”

     “It’s mom Rox, she’s got breast cancer. She was diagnosed two weeks ago.”

     The glass shattered on the floor, ice tea went everywhere. NO! It couldn’t be true. Not my mom, it was a mistake - a horrible cruel joke from Tara. My mom was strong, invincible. She was an amazing woman that did it all. She was only 45! Luke came running to see what happened. There I stood pale white, broken glass in a pool of tea at my feet. I’m not even sure if anything was said after that on the phone, it was a blur. 

 

     Luke carefully walked me to the sofa after checking me over for cuts. He cleaned up the mess as I sat there numb from shock. I didn’t cry, just sat there staring at nothing.

     I sat there hugging a pillow while Luke packed us up. He loaded the car, then helped buckle me into the passenger seat. Luke’s home was only thirty five minutes from my mom’s house. He talked to me the whole ride, explained how we could balance our time, and how he was there to support me. We’d split our time between the moms and announce our engagement a little early.

     An hour in on the trip home we stopped for gas at his favorite little stop along the way. He shared with me how his dad always stopped here for cones when he was little. When he came back to the car he carried two of the biggest cones I’d ever seen and a plush little panda bear that held a single rose that lit up. I know he said a lot of thoughtful caring things, but honestly I was in such a state of shock that only the fact that he was incredibly caring and patient registered. 

     We arrived at his mom’s at 5:30 on Wednesday evening. Linda Reed instantly welcomed me with open arms. I think Luke’s little brother Matthew had a serious crush on me as he was inseparable from the moment I got there until we left on Friday morning. His little sister however, was a different story. She circled around me, with a disapproving scowl then informed me that Luke’s last girlfriend brought her gifts.

     What do you expect from a seven year old, right? I wasn’t about to surrender my panda bear and all I had in my bag was a few protein bars so I told her that I was unaware of the protocol since it was my first visit. She told me. “Well I’ll let it go this time, but don’t let it happen again.” Anna was going to be a tough nut to crack.

     Mrs. Reed made a fabulous meal. I ate way too much! It was so good to have home cooked food, not instant or microwaved. I was definitely going to have to learn to cook. Salads were simple, but I didn’t know how to make a pot roast if my life depended on it.

     While Luke spent time with his brother and doing some handyman stuff for his mom, I sat with Linda in the kitchen watching how she prepared her foods, asking questions while I chopped vegetables for her. I asked a ton of questions, I’m surprised she didn’t kick me out.

     At the dinner table with everyone there, Luke made the announcement about our engagement. Linda cried, Matthew sulked, and Anna was furious. Well that went well. Despite my insecurities and fears they are a wonderful family.

     Early Saturday morning Luke drove us to my home. Tara was alone when we arrived, Mom had already left for work. That actually worked out well, it gave me time to glean information form Tara.

     We were out on the deck sipping tea when I glanced over to the Miller’s, remembering when I sat in the exact same spot watching a shirtless sweaty Devon mowing the lawn. As Tara talked with Luke, I reminisced about the times with my best friend and wished that I could tell him the good news. I thought perhaps I’d skype him sometime over the weekend when he stepped out onto the back patio. I instantly shot to my feet! He was home! Oh my gosh! “Hey Devon!" I shouted waving.

     He looked up and waved.

     “Come on over! I haven’t seen you for ages!” I was halfway down the steps while he loped the distance across the yard. When he reached me he lifted me off my feet and twirled me around, kissing me soundly. 

     “Wow It’s good to see you Roxy.” He set me down after hugging me and giving me a quick kiss. “You look great!”

     I grabbed his hand and drug him up the stairs. Once we reached the top of the deck, I saw that Luke was standing, he'd been watching me the entire time. I blushed as I introduced them to each other. Luke immediately moved to my side and slipped his arm around my waist. Could he have been jealous of my friendship with Devon? 

     I started telling Devon about our matches, that we both won our divisions and how I’d won a sponsorship. He said he was happy for me, but I could tell he still didn't approve of my fighting. I wanted so much to tell him Luke was my fiancee now that we had set the date for the following June, but I didn't want to spill the beans to Tara and have her blurt it out to mom.

     Before Devon went back home he gave me another hug and whispered to call him later. It was so good to see him. Tara went inside  to get ready for work and Luke pulled me close, kissing me deeply. 

     “So that’s my competition. Your best friend Devon. He’s going to have to find a new playmate as I’ve got you now.” Another deep kiss, my knees about to buckle, and he starts nibbling on my neck. 

 

     I was instantly melting in his arms. I felt relaxed at my home, not timid and uptight like I did at his mom’s house. Without even thinking I was tugging his shirt up, pressing against him. He walked me back into the railing and unzipped my jean capris, sliding them down as he slid his fingers over my cleft. Instant heat spread over me at his touch. His lips were on my nipple gently brushing at first then sucking into his mouth as his fingers worked lower. He brushed over my nub as he sucked in. I gasped moaning his name.

     He slid down my body, covering my abdomen with kisses, tickling my belly button with his tongue before tugging the jeans over my ass and down. Hot breath washed over the damp silky panties giving a delicious mix of fire and goose bump chills. Rough calloused fingers played over my bum as he tugged the panties to one side, his tongue flicking out over my sensitive button. 

     "Oh God Luke yes!"

      He dove between my legs lapping, tonguing and slipping fingers inside me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew someone could see us, I guess it added to the taboo of being out on the deck in the middle of the day. A part of me knew that Tara could be watching us, the neighbors could be watching us. I didn’t care. I was Luke’s instrument at that moment and I didn’t care who knew.

      He pushed two fingers inside me while sucking my clit and I exploded in orgasm. Shuddering, gasping, saying yes, whimpering almost.

     He stood up and whispered to me “Do you want me inside you?”

     I nodded in agreement.

     “Say it baby.”

     I was out of my mind with need for him. “Please Luke. Take me here, now.”

     His lips were on mine, claiming possessively. “Louder Roxanne, I can’t hear you. Tell me specifically.”

     “Make love to me Luke, now. Here on the deck. Please!”

      He turned me around and leaned me over the rail, my knees on the chaise lounger. He pushed all the way inside me, moving slowly at first then getting increasingly faster and harder. After about twenty minutes I was on the edge again. I’m not sure who was taking who at that point, I just know it was good. It was intense. “Luke, I’m gonna come. Baby, I. . . Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!”

     I lost it! Waves rolled over me, I was drowning in it. The most intense orgasm I’d ever had and he wasn’t stopping. I was nearly shaking when I heard myself yell loudly “Oh God yes. YES! Ohhhhhhhh fuck YES!” 

     At that point Luke exploded inside me, letting me feel the hot gush of his seed shooting inside me, filling me as he leaned over my shoulders kissing the back of my neck.

     As he slumped against me I swiped my hair out of my eyes, and saw Devon standing on his back patio. He’d seen and heard everything. He turned back going inside with his head down, a look of hurt on his fade. Why did I feel like I just betrayed my best freind? 

     Me and my big mouth.

Fate's Kiss Chapter Three

Fate's Kiss

Chapter three

By Cathy Brockman

After seeing to my daily duties, I go inside and wash using  my best smelling soap, my brother’s wife had  gotten me form a street vendor. I want smell and look my best for my love, not smell like a horse stable. I readied my mare Delilah and have her waiting for my ride.

 I ride deep into the woods; the rich earthy scent relaxing me. As I near our usual meeting place, fear and disappointment grip me. Where is she?

I ride a little further to the nearby stream so I can let my horse drink. I sat on a nearby rock and watch Delilah; pondering why she hasn’t shown up. She is always awaiting me. Has she changed her mind about me? Found someone else? Has her clan left?

“Nee-co-li! The man than steals my dreams,” Her rich voice sings through the air sending shivers straight to my soul.   

I spin at the deep sultry drawl of my name. How I love the way my name rolls over her tongue so slow and sensuous. Just the sound of her voice does things to my body, making me ashamed for her to see me. I fold my hands over my lap to hide my arousal wishing it to fade, but knowing as long as she is near it will do nothing but grow stronger and harder.

Turning to face her, my heart falters at the mere sight of her. Long, raven hair cascades in waves over her olive brown shoulders that peek from under the white blouse that shows off her womanly figure. Big brown eyes glitter in the sliver of sunlight that filters through the trees.

 The way she looks at me, as if I am the only man she has ever seen, makes me feel on top of the world. Right now, for the next couple hours it is as if only the two of us exist here in our private little kingdom.

“Do you truly dream of me, Illia?” My voice comes out thick and faltered, betraying me, as does my body.

“Would you like me to show you what I dream of my love?” She glides forward gracefully like a wild-cat stalking its prey.

As much as I want her, even though I hear rumors that her people don’t hold sacred the values and morals as do we, I will wait for her. I will show her that to me she is more Lady than any in the town, Hell the entire world, to me. I can wait.

“Come sit with me love. Tell me about your day. When we are apart I feel as if part of me is gone.” I wrap my arm around her as she sits next to me leaning her head on my shoulders.

 I gently stroke the silky tress and soft skin on her shoulder. I try to ignore the pain that nags  me in my loins, but it gets more difficult every time we are close.

“You are such the gentlemen, Nicolai my love. So charming. I don’t want to waste precious time talking when I would much rather feel your lips on mine.” She slides her hand slowly up my knee heading into very dangerous territory. I long to feel her hands stroking my most private place, to feel her hands on my bare skin, but I know this is forbidden. If I ever give in to just such a small temptation, I will be doomed like our forefather Adam after he tasted the forbidden fruit. I can wait. I must wait.

All of a sudden she is in my lap. Her skirt pushed up high on her thighs so she can wrap her legs around my waist. She leans close her body pressed so tightly against mine only the fabric we wear separates us from being one. I can feel the warmth of her body against my groin even through our clothes. Her lips bind with mine, first softly then harsher, more eager. She wants me as much as I do her. God help me. Give me strength to resist this temptation. Give me patience, no not patience but will. Mother always told me to never pray for patience.

“Illia. Heavens woman you will be my undoing.” I pant breathlessly, my voice resembling the squeak of a mouse as I put my hands on her narrow hips and try fruitlessly to dislodge her from my lap. She is much stronger than she looks and very determined. And alas I am very weak. I find it hard to think, much less form words. I know we need to talk but my mouth would much rather be kissing her, tasting her.

Her lips press against mine again, the wet silk of her tongue caressing my upper lip seeking entrance. I surrender to her for a moment. I manage to find a pittance of strength and ease her back slowly.

“Love, we must talk. Father has chosen a wife for me. He is adamant on this and is having a dinner this weekend, for our families to meet and make arrangements.”

Anger flashes through her dark eyes. She grabs my shoulders tightly, fingers digging into my flesh. “No! You belong to me. I will cast a spell on her entire family!

“Illia you mustn’t say such things. The towns people fear your clan already, don’t let them hear you speaking of such untruths.” Fear tries to force it’s way over my desire.

“If you want me for your wife you must understand our kind. We can do things. Some of us are more powerful than others. Some of us can evoke the Dark Ones, most of us know better.” Her body still trembles lightly, though I am unsure if it is anger or need.

My hands tremble more now, partially from fear mixed with my earlier desires. I take her into my arms. Her deep brown eyes now stormy and darker than night. My lips still ache to kiss her. She pulls away.

“We are what we are Nicolai. Does that frighten you? Can you love a witch?” Her voice is now soft as a whisper of the wind through the leaves.

“Illia I love you. No matter what. Let’s not waste what little time we have on this.” I reach for her again and she melts into my arms like the butter on my flapjack this morning.

This is what I have longed for all day. All night. We stand folded into each other’s arms, it seems as even the wind has stilled.

“What will you do about your Father Nicolai? You can’t defy him. I can’t bear to see you hurt again.” Her lips graze the side of my face, her hands carries my back, fingers trailing over my muscles like tiny serpents sending my nerve endings into turmoil.

I try to get my body and mind into one accord. We need to talk, make a plan, but my thoughts are like mist. I pull her off me and take her hand leading her to a fallen tree that serves as a settee. I pull her onto my lap folding my arms around her relishing the feel of her body against mine. The more I have these moments the more I long for them.

“When have you seen me hurt?” I whisper into her silken hair.

“I have watched you for a long time. I see how your father treats you different from your brother. I have seen the scars on your back, the hurt in your eyes. Sometimes it is hard to not wish a curse on him. But I know you love him and would hate me if harm came to him through my people.”

“I could never hate you, love but please promise to not curse my family.” I pull back her hair lightly nipping at her neck, causing her to tremble and giggle.

She stands up and turns around facing me. Throwing back her had she chuckles.

“Even a witch doesn’t give a word she knows she cannot keep.” She holds her hands out to me as I stand she pulls her into her arms crushing me with her lips. Long slim fingers trace along my nose, my jaw, my lips, as her eyes search mine. I try to breathe.

“You are so handsome Nicolai. With your dark hair, dark skin and your name, you could easily pass as one of our clan.”

“Do you really think so, Illia?” An idea come to me.

“Of course my love, only you cannot see how attractive you are. All the women look at you, want you as I do. It makes me want to turn them into bugs and stomp them.”

I feel color rise into my cheeks.

“No, silly woman. I mean could I really pass as one of you? Would your clan accept me?” I brush the hair from her shoulder and kiss it lightly savoring the salting taste on my tongue.

“You would truly give up all this for me?” She waves her hands encompassing the land my father owns. The sky begins to darken I know it is getting closer to time for us to part. My heart weighs heavy.

“Illia I would give my life for you.”

If you missed the first episode you can find it here: 

The second here: 

 And come back next week to the shocking conclusion. I promise you won’t see this one coming.

The Artisan Visits

Wow, The Artisan is at it again.  I don't know about you, but Ben Hannigan's flair for the eroticsends shivers down my spine.  Let's see what he's up to this week.

Don't forget to enter our contest!

The Artisan Visits

by

Ben Hannigan

Instead of the package that usually awaits you, there was a simple letter.  The contents were an order phrased as a request. It held a time and a place to wait, so that how and why you found yourself at eight PM sat in the leather chair you love so much,  curled up. Not in anything sexy, but in your favourite pyjama bottoms and your lover’s hoody. You spend the time racking your brains trying to work out if at any point during your conversations with the artisan you had told them you were ill.

Never the less they knew, hence you were told to curl up in the chair you loved so much; the chair that your partner would curl up in and read to you with you in their lap. Waiting comfortably, not really knowing what you were waiting for and feeling slightly foolish when staring down at the socks your dad had bought you for Christmas. The ones with the eyes and nose of a fox on them, that allowed you to “nom” your partner’s feet when you laid in bed.

Over time you felt the combination of the doctor ordered medication and the hot toddy your lover ordered mingling and making you drowsy, comfortable, and safe, you drift off. When you wake, you wake in the chair, waking only slightly to the feeling of your feet being massaged. Your eyes closed, you snuggle back and enjoy the dream. Warm hands on your feet rubbing gently, and warm moisturising oil rubbed into your pale skin. Then, this masseuse begins to kiss and suck each toe gently before running their teeth across each heel. The shivers and spasms across each leg as they do, that driving you wild and all you can focus on in your bleary state are the drips of wetness running down your thighs and the hot wetness of their mouth.

You feel yourself lifted to the couch, a duvet over you and your lover’s hand masturbating you by rubbing you through the cotton. You’re pushing up into their hand, not knowing who they are and whether or not this is a dream. Their mouth on your neck, feather light kisses across you as you shake and gasp. Their hand moving under the hoody, your nipples caressed as you are moved so you are on top of your dream lover, you head resting on their boobs and feeling the bulge in their silk bottoms. Confused you run your hand over the bulge, its cold, not flesh, but a toy of sorts.

The mouth now on your earlobe, tongue flicking as you shake and gasp, pleading for their touch yet all they do is rest the heel of their palm on your slit over the cotton bottoms. Finally, you get frustrated and your bottoms come off. Still, all it is the rubbing rotation of the heel of the palm, you’re mewling, begging for more.  Finally they oblige, fingers diving into you, plunging in deep, aggressive, rough, hard. They hold you close against their breasts.  You in just a hoody, nursing against their nipple as you feel yourself pounded roughly, aggressively touched, your having your hair stroked with the other hand. You feel their bra come off and the nipple you were teasing through unconscious movement is now bare and guided into your mouth.

The fingers faster and faster, teasing your clit, twisting your clit as you scream.  Their fingers playing you like a piano, knowing each key to hit, each sensitive area to touch, where to tap, where to twist and where to stroke gently.  Laying there, you're orgasming fast, hard, intense as they hold you close. They drive you further and further the contrast between the hand that’s ravishing you and the gentle caress of the other driving you wild. You hear a small gasp as your sucking continues and are shocked yourself by the release of milk that flows over your lips and into your mouth.

Blissfully, greedily, you suck, feeding from them as they drive you through orgasm after orgasm.  The body betraying you by your intense arousal at being treated like a child. Nursing from this dream lover, you are attempting to drain each breast, feeling her moaning, her rough and eager arousal at your actions and she yanks off her knickers. Forcing your legs to spread as she pushes the strap on into you.  She needs this as much as you do now.  This isn’t just her pleasuring you, this is rea,l hot desire whimpering with need. As you feed she’s fucking you; hot,  fast, rough and you both come together in a crescendo of moans, gasps, and swearing in multiple languages.

You focused on their heartbeat and their warmth.  The gentle kisses placed on your throat, their heartbeat and breathing lulling you to sleep, your eyelids heavy,  you feel so warm, so comfortable that you just drift off. Happily allowing sleep to overtake you.   Hours later you wake, still curled up under the duvet, but alone now, relaxed and comfortable. The only proof that it wasn’t a dream is resting by your head, a pair of silky knickers and matching bra in a size that isn’t yours. You pull the panties down off the arm of the sofa and a note falls down into your lap.


“Your visit today was about caring, nurturing, and relaxing you. This is all part of the service of the artisan. Each client is selected and chosen carefully. Everything we offer is done with love.  There is a meal in the oven waiting for you my darling client, the hot water bottle is under your back. I hope I left you comfortable and happy. As much as this service is about spoiling someone else and allowing you to really spoil your lover, we at Artisan feel that the only way for you to spoil someone else and give them the passion they desire, is to have felt it yourself. This is why we send samples in the way we do,  involving you in each aspect of the event you have designed with us. But more than that, this is why we pamper you.

Love

 

The Artisan”

Special Deliver: The Artisan collection Pt 3

Are you enjoying this sinfully delicious treat by our own artisan Ben Hannigan?  He certainly has a way of wetting my appetite.  Don't forget to sign up for our Valentine's Day giveaway!

Now, let's see what the artisan is up to today!
Did you miss the first parts?  You can catch up here:

Passion of the Artisan Confectioner (Pt 1)
Of Crystal Glasses and Rich Red Velvet (Pt 2)

Special Delivery

Today when you rushed home you saw as you expected, a package from the artisan.  For you now at this time, it had become a game, a courtship of sorts. You give him a request for an item and wait, he returns days later with a delivery.

Gently as to slow the moment you tug the bow, the package unravels itself, the elegant bow sliding apart with lace and satin almost sinfully like the opening of some secret delicate flower. Even opening his gifts sent shivers of desire through you.

In this package there was no note, no description other than a single word “touch”.

 Closing your eyes you remove the first garment, a pair of almost sheer stockings, silk and soft, slowly sliding up your milk white legs to your thighs, due to the resting place of the package, each thigh being sucked and engulfed by an eager wet soft mouth.

The next a garter, lace and ribbon which you tie across your thighs.

The next a camisole which again, slick, silk, sliding over soft skin, the material engulfing your sensitive figure with this eager sucking warmth. Your nipple teased into stiff peaks by the contact and as you tighten the last ribbon you realise there is something very special. The internal nipple clamp that you have pulled tight gripping teasing and driving you into desperate whimpering shudders.  But you press on.  You can’t stop.  You wont stop.  You must, but you mustn’t.

The last item, figure hugging hipster cut underwear, sliding fast and hot up the silk and slipped on without thinking, causing you to cry out in shock and delicious pleasure.  The inside of the panties feeling hot, tingling and teasing as you feel and fumble for the box you read the label warning that the panties are impregnated with a serum that upon body contact release a cream to tingle and tease you. Wet and aching with need you follow the instructions finding the ribbon leading from each nipple and tying them as instructed to the small nub in the panties.  As soon as the knot pulls true you realise the terrible magnificent truth. The clamp opening to grip the clit as you can’t and won’t stop this, this sensual, sexual torment. The clamp gripping not hard but not soft and each time you writhe and rock, it’s tugging upon your nipples, which tugs your clit and leaves you tremoring, shaking, mewling, screaming in a puddle of passion and bliss.  

Alone in your armchair recovering from an orgasm brought about from a shadow of a partner, known only by their title and the signature.

  

Artisan

Reflections On My Writing

Ever wonder what the author is thinking about when writing those steamy scenes? What's the difference between pornography and erotica? What distinctions do you make in your own mind? Ben shares a little from his heart on this matter.

Reflections On My Writing

by

Ben Hannigan

Sex is something that is always special. Sex holds a power regardless of time, of space, sex can be gentle, sex can be rough, it can hurt, it can heal. Sex is something that I write about often but I would like to think that the focus of my work isn’t sex. Sex to me is something that is both beautiful and terrifying. It opens you up as a person in ways that cannot be foreseen; opening up to a lover in a kiss bares your soul in ways that simply talking will never do. To me if a lover is to cheat, taking them back if they confessed to fucking another would be easy but sharing a slow loving passionate kiss would be far harder and I take these views about what is meaningful into my writing.

The passion, the love, the desire I believe must come from more than sex, more than the simple act of making love. My characters have in my mind an image and a personality before they have their sexuality. In the piece that I am currently writing for this blog, I tried to create not only a plausible relationship but also create characters that are real and more importantly, can draw on the emotions of a reader. The erotic for me as a writer is more about the build-up to the act than the act itself. While the act is exciting; the moments of frantic thrusting, kissing, tasting, biting and the ultimate explosion of release, the teasing passionate build-up of anticipation, the lingering longing kisses and the slow gentle stroking are the things that keep me coming back to a piece, to an author. The foreplay and the lust have to intertwine in a deeper story. Simple sex has nothing in my view, it has no substance, no draw and no interest. If we use an analogy of food, crude hypersexualised writing that is concerned with the reproductive act and nothing more is a fast food hamburger, whereas the full piece focusing on the hunt, the chase and the challenge of courtship as well as the highs and lows of two lives colliding.

Sex without a reason to me isn’t interesting so I try to create a world for my characters. I want them to feel like people. Erotica that doesn’t have that feel of realism for me is similar to porn on the screen, it doesn’t feel quite right, it feels hollow and doesn’t have the same depth to it. For some reason, it doesn’t grab my attention and hold it. For me starting at “he was inside her deep, fast, rough, the sweat dripping down his back as he moved, driving his lover down into the silk”doesn’t appeal in the same was as starting at say, “they sat opposite each other at the bar table, she rubbed her bare foot over the younger girls thigh as their hands touched gently as they moved, reaching for the bread”. That’s not to say that the sex isn’t interesting or something that I want to read about, but it I think requires building up to it.

The role of the author, I believe is to inspire and create a world that a reader can lose themselves in for as long as it takes them to read. To create a world that you can be lost in eagerly awaiting the next instalment. I draw my inspiration from conversations with other writers, friends, things I read or have seen. I start with an image and spend my time trying to put the ‘thousand words’ that image contains onto paper.

I want to thank my fellow writers on Storytime for their encouragement, patience, and guidance as I test my new wings. They provide inspiration and support that I didn't realize I needed until I had it. There are people I talk to about my life, my writing, my hope and dreams; they know who they are and they are an amazing help. Thanks to all!

 





Faere Warrior: Passion's Price Conclusion

Fate and Karma are mere children compared to Fae sense of justice.  Meted out in rations against humans, or anyone that dares to interfere with their master plan, cruelty was first learned at the hand of the Fae by human kind.  The Great agreement was not made to protect humans, but insure their eventual victory.

 

Faere Warrior: Passion's Price

Conclusion

by

Ellie Mack

 

Chapter 9

            Queen Aeswitha stood to announce her final decision.  It had taken 20 minutes of deliberation by the council to come to a unanimous decision.  Twenty minutes in Faery, translated to weeks in the human realm.

“The creature mormo, known as Siann shall be cast in prison, and questioned for any information we may obtain pertaining to Prince Brogann.”  She banged her scepter on the marble tile.

“As to the Guardian of the clan McIntyre, Keegan Alistaire McIntyre, currently at warrior status, shall be administered a half dose of elixir to preserve his life.  If however, he turns to our dark Fae brethren as a result of the poisoning, he shall be hunted and killed with the Spear of Luhn.”  She banged her scepter once more.

“Guards shall be doubled at our prison, and wards shall be increased to hold Prince Brogann.  He remains within bodily.”  She hesitated, choosing not to speak any further information about his condition, then tapped her scepter.

“Finally, the slayer known as Selena Mubarak shall be stripped of the cuffs, which are the cuffs of Nuada, first king to our race, conqueror of the Firbolg. She shall be destroyed by the spear of Luhn, bound by blood runes to Prince Brogann as wife and concubine; as such guilty of treason to the Fae High court.”  She tapped her scepter once more.  “The cuffs shall be brought to Faery, and remain in the treasury until the time when our contract ends.”

“These edicts shall be executed this day.”

            The Queen sat in a slump.  It took a lot of her magic to make edicts.  By the power of her title every word she spoke while holding the scepter came to pass.  Leevander stepped forward, kissing his mother’s hand before he saw her laws carried out.

 

 

                         *                                *                                  *                                  *

 

 

            Siann was taken to the lower levels of the prison, those reserved for the lower caste Unseelie.   The guards questioned, extracting every bit of information they could before destroying the miserable wretched creature.  Siann had served Prince Brogann for twelve centuries, before that she had served King Vortigen.

            It was uncertain if they could have saved her, but the Seelie had little use for the grotesque castes of Unseelie.  With a perverse pleasure at seeing her torture, the Seelie Fae showed themselves to be no better than their darker brethren.  In many instances they were often more cruel. The guards laughed, watching as the pitiful creature writhed in agony for hours until death finally came.

            Leevander’s servant women were tending Keegan when the Queen’s aid arrived.    Their constant touching, bathing, caressing, and kissing; hoping that he would awaken so they could be pleasured by him, was brought to a swift halt. Examining the puncture wounds on his leg, the elder Fae made an incision, knowing that no scar would remain after the administration of the elixir.  Keegan was treated roughly, as a tool that had malfunctioned and could be easily replaced.  It was more expedient to fix the broken one than to replace it, luckily for Keegan.

Leevander carried the half dose of elixir.  It wouldn’t be enough to grant immortality, but the unnatural longevity went along with their service to the Fae.  Keegan’s longevity would just last a little longer than most, but not be granted the immortality that his Uncle Robert had.  Once Lee administered the elixir, Keegan began to stir.  The Fae women continued their caresses and ministrations. 

            Keegan woke quickly, aware of his arousal and the Fae women by his side.  He was also well aware of the addictive factor to Fae/human sex.  Some never recovered, some chose to stay in Faery as their toys.  The temptation was there;  sex like you’ve never experienced that would literally blow your mind.  Far more powerful than any illicit drug, Fae sex was never meant for humans.

             “Get me the fuck out of here! Of all places, why did you bring me here and how much of my life have you stolen now?”  He was furious.

            Keegan snapped out of his haze to see Leevander standing, arms crossed staring smugly at him. “What the hell?  What have you done to me you faery wanker?  Get me the fuck out of here! Of all places, why did you bring me here and how much of my life have you stolen now?”  He was furious.

            Lee chuckled.  “I saved your arse again.”  He spoke in the ancient Fae tongue to the women and they sulked away.  “Now if you’re ready to get off your lazy arse we’ve work to attend.”

            Keegan didn’t even argue, just sat up, raked his fingers through his hair and followed Lee without any argument.  When he translated back to his apartment; nearly four months had passed.  Time in Faery always passed slower than in the human realm.  Leevander had paid his rent, and dropped him from his classes.  Lee sat with Keegan and explained how things were with the momo. It was harder to convince him about Selena. 

            He froze mid sentence.  The portal had been opened. This time they were ready for the slayer.  He pushed the sword into Keegan’s hand as they transported to the portal beneath the Golden Gate Bridge.   The rocks crumbled away as dozens of imp-like creatures poured from the dark depths.  They barely advanced two before Keegan was upon them, sending them back. 

Lee spotted Selena coming around the far side of the bridge.  He motioned the guards who had made themselves invisible to hold her.   Keegan worked in his skilled dance, banishing the Unseelie in a seemingly effortless display.

            “Stop!  You’re not helping!  They’ll just come back.”  It was Selena.  Keegan turned towards her, seeing her struggling against the two Fae guards.

            “Well, well.  If it isn’t queen of the damned.  Oh, or is that queen Mubarak?  No wait, mistress of the dark.  Or how about  Mistress of Misery? Yeah that one fit’s. We’ll stick with that one, Mistress.” He took two long strides to stand in front of her. “I just want to know one thing.  Why Selena?”  His jaws clenched in anger. He slashed the sword, catching two straggling Unseelie in his peripheral vision.

 

            Selena struggled in the guards grasps.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stilled, seeing the pain on his face.

            “Don’t play coy with me Salena, it’s unbecoming. Sicking that Unseelie creature on me? That was low.”  He wiped the sweat from his brow and flung it to the ground.  His burr thickening as he spoke. “Obviously you aren’t as innocent in matters as you’d want me to believe.  I just want to know one thing.  Did you decide to kill me yourself?  Or did your Master, Prince Brogann order you to do it?”

            “What? What are you talking about?  I never tried to kill you.”

            “It’s a little late to be tellin’ lies.  He turned and walked away from her a few steps then stopped.  “You know, it’s funny.  I thought I’d found a real treasure in you.  I thought I loved you.  I was obsessed night and day with seeing you again, and when I did you nearly killed me.”  He threw a stone into the bay. “Only to find out ye’re a back stabbing bitch working for the Dark Prince.  That’s rich.  Yeah the jokes on me, now isn’t it?  I hope you enjoyed your little game, ‘cause there won’t be a next time.”

            He stormed away, leaving Salena between the guards, letting Lee deal with her.  Lee took the cuffs first, then her Ankh pendant.  Lee spoke the ancient language, breaking her glamour spell. 

“Sher en hachth; du bien a’ nalle; nuchthreit  Sher doch im hath neyet, etren dub naucht. ”

            Keegan turned back, her glamour stripped.  She was covered in runic tattoos and glyphs.  Slowly her features were fading from beauty to a time ravaged hideous form.   Lee took the spear from the sheath and stabbed her in the heart. Keegan turned away at her screams and kept walking down the shore tossing rocks as the tears flowed unbidden,  a piece of his heart dying with her.

            Lee caught up with him some time later with a six pack. “It’s done.” 

            “Aye”  Keegan accepted one of the beers.  They sat on the rocks staring out over the bay in silence for some time.

            “Don’t suppose you’d be amused by older women jokes?”

            “That’d be right.” 

When the beers were gone they walked in silence back to the bridge to seal the portal.

 

                        *                                  *                                  *                                  *

 

            Brogann fell to the floor.  They thought to kill his beloved.  He couldn’t have that, all his plans all the suffering would be for naught.   He blocked out the stabbing pain he felt from their connection.  Every bit of effort he could muster, he projected himself to his faithful servant Slede.  Slede  was a were creature.  

            “I summon thee my servant Slede.”  Brogann cast his voice into Slede’s head, and Slede instantly transported into the cell. Brogann grabbed Slede, transforming his shape to resemble his own as he took Slede’s appearance. In the few seconds it took to make the transfer, the guard shuffled down the corridor to check on him.  Brogann translated to Salena.

            “What’s goin’ on in there?”  The guard shone the torch into the cell.

            “Get that fucking light out of my eyes or I’ll pull your arms out.” He turned in his chair, facing the cell wall, not allowing the guard to see his face.

            “Show yourself!”  The guard yelled, shoving the torch further into the cell.

            “Instantly Slede was on his feet, the irons on his ankles jerking him back inches from reaching the guard.

            The guard pulled back in terror.  Brogann was a tricky one, and deceptively calm most of the time. “I’ll bring your food.”  He hastily retreated up the stairs, confident that Brogann was safely restrained.

 

                        *                                  *                                  *                                  *

 

            As the sword pierced Salena’s side she screamed. Her glamour had been stripped.  They’d taken Keegan from her with lies and a setup.  Her eyes burned with hatred.  Brogann was the only one that had ever cared for her.

            In an instant a man was beside her, sending the guards flying.  He pulled the sword from her, simply touching it burned his hands.  Before it clanked to the ground, he translated Salena to his chambers. He stayed with her, nursing her along as long as his strength would allow before returning to his cell.

            Slede would have to tend to her needs. The hidden chambers at Petra provided a safe refuge for his bride, for his future queen.