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His hands were trapped beneath my own, pinned gently but firmly against the mattress. His breath came in ragged, uneven shallow puffs, his eyes wide and dark with a desperate, beautiful focus.

“Please,” he whispered, the syllable catching in his throat.

“Not yet,” I replied, my voice a low, teasing thread in the quiet room.

I leaned down, tracing the line of his jaw with the tip of my tongue. Deliberate and slow. Every movement I made was a calculated exercise in restraint. I dragged my fingertips down his chest, barely skimming the surface of his skin. Watching the way his muscles jumped in response to the agonizingly light touch. He arched into it, searching for the deep, heavy friction he craved. I shifted my weight just out of reach, denying him release.

Keeping someone on the precipice is a delicate art. It requires reading the exact moment the tension becomes too much to bear, and then pulling back just a fraction of an inch.

I hovered over him, letting my hair brush against his skin. I pressed against him, offering an agonizingly fleeting, brief taste of full contact. Then slowing the rhythm down to a tortuous crawl. He let… Continue reading “The Edge of Pleasure”

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The afternoon sun beat down on the crowded city park, and all my attention was focused on the few inches of shared space on our picnic blanket. Around us, distractions abounded; a group playing volleyball, dogs chasing frisbees. To anyone passing by, we were just two friends enjoying a lazy Sunday.

No one saw the way your bare knee was pressed firmly against mine; an unyielding point of contact that sent my groin throbbing.

You shifted closer, leaning back on one elbow under the shade of a massive tree. The movement caused your sunglasses to slide down the bridge of your nose, exposing intense eyes that locked onto mine. “It’s beautiful out here,” you murmured. Voice low enough that it was almost swallowed by the ambient chatter.

Your hand was doing the real talking.

With agonizing slowness, your fingers trailed up my calf, tracing along the edge of my clothes. My breath hitched, quiet intake that I forced myself to mask by taking a slow sip of my drink. The sheer thrill of the surrounding crowd made my skin prickle with electricity.

Continue reading “Playing In The Park”

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The heavy curtains of my bedroom balcony were drawn back just an inch, leaving a narrow vertical sliver of glass exposed to the cool night air. The amber lamplights cast a soft orange glow over the scene, and there he was.

The gardener was working late, clearing the tangled vines near the stone fountain. He had discarded his shirt hours ago, his shoulders and back glistening under the soft light. Every movement was deliberate, a hypnotic display of fluid strength as he moved through the shadows.

I stood in the darkness of my room, completely hidden, watching his every move. My breath hitched as he stopped, tilting his head back to wipe sweat from his forehead. The amber light caught the sharp angle of his jaw and the damp hair clinging to his neck. I knew I should look away, but the view held me captive.

Suddenly, he paused. He didn’t return to his work. Instead, his gaze shifted slowly across the courtyard, moving up the stone facade of the house until it landed directly on my window. My heart hammered in my chest. I froze, blending into the dark fabric of the curtains, certain the shadows protected…

Continue reading “Watching From The Shadows”

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I had never seen him so relaxed before. Instead of his normal turtleneck and dress shirt combo, he was wearing a loose t-shirt and a baggy sweater. His dress slacks were traded for sweats, and his ever present gloves were tossed to the side. If we hadn’t already planned out this tryst, I’d have been instantly turned on. The room swung around a little as he propped his phone somewhere on his bedding as he got comfortable against the headboard. His gaze focused on the camera and he said “Will you show me?”

I giggled into my camera and moved my phone into position on the camera mount I had setup for tonight. I crawled back into position against my pillows to show off the nightie I’d picked out. Black and dark red, with matching panties. Dark red thigh-highs held up with a matching black and red garter belt. I heard a low moan from my phone as I ran a hand up one leg. “Do you like it? I picked it out for you.”

“I wish I could touch you right now.” He said. “I would caress your cheek.”

I moved my hand to my cheek and caressed myself. “I’d… Continue reading “Late-night Facetime Call”

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The world looks entirely different when the canopy of an ancient oak forest barely reaches your knees. To the tiny creatures scurrying below, I am a force of nature; a living goddess carved from flesh and bone. They build their fragile, intricate little lives in the valleys of my footprints; and right now, I am feeling incredibly playful.

I stretch languidly, a slow, deliberate movement that sends a low rumble through the bedrock beneath me. The air up here is crisp and the sun warms my bare skin, casting long shadows across the landscape. Looking down, I spy a bustling little settlement nestled near the riverbank. From this height, their grandest architecture looks like a collection of delicate wooden toys, and the people are mere specks of frantic energy.

I kneel, a massive movement that creates a sudden, rushing wind down in the valley. The ground trembles as my knees settle into the soft earth, crushing a few symmetrical rows of their precious crops. I lean in closer, bringing my face down to their level, letting them feel the heat of my breath. A collective gasp seems to rise from the tiny crowd as my shadow swallows their town whole.

Continue reading “A Giantess’ Thoughts”

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The kitchen was entirely too hot. The air was thick with the rich aroma of roasting garlic and a wine reduction. A single bead of sweat traced a slow, agonizing path down the valley of my collarbone, trapped beneath the linen of my apron. I stood at the island rolling out pasta dough, my forearms aching from the effort. Then, a pair of hands slid around my waist.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. His chest pressed flush against my back, his body heat radiating through our thin clothing. He leaned over my shoulder; his breath a warm, spiced breeze against my neck that made my breath catch in my throat.

“You’re rushing the dough, dear,” he murmured, his voice was low against my ear.

Before I could reply, his flour-dusted hands covered mine on the rolling pin. He didn’t take over; instead, he guided my movements, forcing a slow and deliberate rhythm that felt entirely too intimate for a kitchen counter. With every forward lean, his hips pressed into mine, an explicit promise disguised as a culinary lesson.

“See?” he whispered, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. “Patience makes everything sweeter.”

Continue reading “Cooking In The Kitchen”

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The heat of the late afternoon sun filtered through the thick canopy of the ancient forest, dappling the clearing in shades of gold and amber. I leaned against the trunk of a massive oak, trying to steady my breathing, but my pulse raced for a reason that had nothing to do with the summer heat.

A heavy, rhythmic thud echoed through the loam. He emerged from the shadows of the treeline, entrancing and majestic. Chiron stood before me, his human torso was lean and powerfully muscled, slick with a fine sheen of sweat; transitioning seamlessly into the sleek, powerful body of a golden-bay stallion.

“You’re late,” I murmured, my voice a little rougher than I intended.

Chiron walked slowly towards me, his hooves treading softly on the moss. He stopped just inches from me, his towering height casting a long shadow over my frame. He looked down, his dark eyes burning with an intense need.

“The herd required my attention,” he said, his deep, resonant voice vibrating right through my chest. “But you always have my focus.”

The sheer proximity of him was overwhelming. I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I pressed my palm against his warm…

Continue reading “Chiron The Centaur”

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The storm had driven me into the sea caves, but it was the silence inside that truly trapped me. The water here didn’t crash; it lapped against the smooth rocks like a warm breath against skin. I waded deeper, the bioluminescent algae painting the water in an electric indigo that barely illuminated the area around me. Then, the water shifted; a slow, hydraulic swell rose against my thighs, wet and deliberate.

Out of the glowing depths, the first one emerged. It wasn’t rough, but impossibly sleek and cool. A dark, muscular ribbon of flesh breaking the surface without a sound. It brushed against my calf, an almost teasing, feather-light caress that sent an immediate shiver straight up my spine. I froze, my breath catching in my throat, terrified but transfixed.

Another rose, followed by three more; all of them slick and glistening with a pearlescent sheen. They circled me in the water, a slow-motion ballet of fluid muscle. One rose higher, draping itself over my knee. The underside was lined with soft, pale suckers that dimpled against my bare skin. The suckers didn’t hurt. Instead, they created a strange, rhythmic vacuum. A series of tiny, pulsing pressures that felt almost…

Continue reading “Cave Exploration”

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I sat on the edge of my bed, slowly pulling the first white thigh-high stocking up my leg. The opaque, silky fabric contrasting sharply with the navy blue of my duvet. I adjusted it over my calf, my fingers lingering at the knee; savoring the soft knitted fabric, before guiding the lace band to rest against my upper thigh. The silicone grip squeezing gently against my skin.

I leaned back, lifting my other leg to repeat the ritual. I took my time, appreciating the texture and the way the stark white highlighted every curve of my legs. After tugging the second one this way, and that to get it just right; I stood and took a good look at myself in the full length mirror.

Bright white thigh-high stockings, matching full coverage undies, and a white plunge bra. I looked amazing. It was always nice to take my time and pamper myself a little while dressing up. I ran my hands down my body, adjusting my bra slightly and then down to pat my ass before putting on the black and white dress I was wearing for the evening.

A key turned in the front door lock.

Smiling to myself

Continue reading “Stocking Fun”

Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449 

A few months ago, I attended my friend’s wedding. The ceremony was wonderfully simple, and surprisingly quick. The reception, however, was anything but. Course after course, with speeches in between each one. So many toasts, I needed my glass refilled three times. I really hadn’t been expecting to be sitting this long. No matter how I fidgeted in my seat, I couldn’t find a comfortable position. Every few seconds, a sharp, insistent cramp radiated from deep inside; a frantic reminder that I had ignored my body’s signals for far too long during the endless rounds of toasts and boring speeches.

My bladder felt like heavy weight was pressing on it, stretching it to it’s absolute limit. When a pair of strong hands settled on my waist, I let out a small, involuntary whimper.

“Hiding, darling?” My date’s voice was low against my ear. He pulled me against him, and I could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

“Please don’t,” I gasped out, squeezing my thighs together desperately. The movement of his hands sent a fresh wave of pressure through me, making my muscles twitch with the desperate effort to hold back the tide. “I… I need to go, so … “

Continue reading “Wetting Myself At My Friend’s Wedding”