Posts Tagged ‘Inspiration’

Last week I asked for guest bloggers and my friend Mal asked if he could contribute. My answer, HELL YA! I am sure most of you know him but if you have been living under a rock and do not, I have all his links at the bottom of the page. Go ahead, check him out. I am so very honoured to have Michael Malflic as my guest today.



As the day faded into evening the house was silent, in fact completely silent and very still; an oddity by any measure when compared to the usual frantic tempo and deafeningly boisterous state of the place. Gone were the noise makers, the drama queens, the hellions and all their minions both real and imaginary. Weekend sleepovers at the grandparents are the last bastion of sanity in an otherwise hectic life. Paula lingered in the tub, candles casting an increasing amount of shadows about the room as daylight faded. Music played softly, the scent of flowers filled the air. Eventually the time came where the water had cooled to the point of not being worth reheating, the week’s stresses all but washed away and the last sips of her wine had been enjoyed.

She dried, slowly, leisurely, in an indulgent way that is simply not normally possible. All the needs, desires, wants, and demands of others were decidedly not present. Peace and solitude gives a person time to think about other things and think she certainly did. Her mind wandered as she covered her body in lotion, her skin soft, supple and pampered. She made her way downstairs. Opened a bottle of wine and placed a second glass on the coffee table. Candles still flickered upstairs, the light of day faded away completely and the room was illuminated solely by some inconsequential show playing on the TV without any sound. She continued to enjoy the silence and swim deeply in her own thoughts.

A simple click broke the silence, footsteps in the hall and she called to him to join her. She listened for deft little feet to follow his long and methodical stride. There were none, he rounded the corner and she looked in his direction longingly, hoping to find his arms empty. Was it possible that he actually was able to return alone, that no one had schemed and twisted the situation so they could be back home with Mommy and Daddy? It looked like it worked. A fact that was confirmed when he spoke. “they all went straight to the movies; no fussing or crying. I couldn’t believe it”. He smiled and she wanted to scream with delight at time alone with him.

He sat next to her. She poured him some wine, actually she over poured it, filling the glass far beyond what polite decorum and etiquette suggests for a glass of Cabernet. Maybe she was trying to help him “catch up”, she was a glass and a half ahead of him. Maybe she was being a good little wife or maybe, just maybe she was hoping to get him a little drunk. Nothing too over the top but that state where inhibitions start to fade and one becomes comfortable with that warm buzz. They talked without interruption. He babbled about his day and work, and how they never have enough time alone, as friends or as a couple. She listened and smiled, snuggled up next to him. She encouraged him to drink and offered him more. He accepted but barely sipped the luscious red liquid. Demure and alluring all at the same time, finally she raised her head and kissed him, some guys just can’t take a hint. It was a long slow loving and familiar kiss, when it ended he smiled. So she kissed him again this time with more passion, and urgency.

Eventually their bodies were intertwined. He suggested “going upstairs”. She inquired as to why. He blushed. She took him by the hand. As she stood she pressed herself against him. Grinding into his leg and quite literally began to loosen his tie, her red chemise reflecting the muted TV’s images as she cast his neck adornment aside. He stood there smiling at her, his hand found the small of her back. She imagined a man overwhelmed with desire, a lover that is so over come with passion he must have her right then and right there. Her nipples hardened at the thought. He took her hand and began walking across the room. Her heart raced wondering what he was thinking “let’s go upstairs”. Her pulse slowed, just a little. They found themselves making their way to bed room, a stolen kiss here, a passing touch there, a slow ascent up the stairs. She smiled back at him playfully, swinging her hips a little extra with each step. She imagined what was yet to come. The moment when his formality would fade and lust would take over. It excited her in ways beyond words, she wanted to be his. In time they made their way down the hall. He closed the bedroom door as he entered.

She undressed him slowly as he sat on the edge of the bed. First his shirt, then shoes, pants, socks, and under garments. She made quite the production of each discarded piece, watching his face and feeling his body’s reaction to her touch. Folding it and walking seductively across the room and back. His eyes on her as she left and she eyed him like her prey on her way back. Finally her chemise fell unceremoniously to the floor and her breast found its way to his mouth after the last of his textiles were gone.

He nibbled and kissed, ever so lightly. “Harder” she said. He looked at her, “yes I am certainly getting harder” he said almost shyly before paying the same amount of attention to her other breast, his hand on her hip holding her so lovingly, so softly, with such tenderness. All the while she imagined the pinch of him biting her with more force, his strong hands pulling her into him. That his loving touch went from gentle to demanding. She felt her excitement growing as she played those thoughts through her mind again and again. Be demanding, she thought, take me and use me she wanted to tell him.

After being so attentive he took her hand and moved her on to the bed before entering her with long, slow and deep thrusts. She drank in the feeling of his hard cock inside of her, the feel of it sliding though her slowly. It was maddening the way he was teasing her with each movement. His lips found hers, their tongues danced, her hand in his, as their bodies collided in a timed, controlled, and measured manner. She imagined him pinning her to the bed, forcefully. Not letting her move, using his size and strength to prevent her from escaping. He continued on, now varying the pace ever so slightly, a push, and a pause; making love to her with a gentle respect all while she imagined him fucking her with a lust filled intensity.

“Harder” she said, perhaps so quietly that it was little more than a gasp of delight filling the room. She admired him, eyes shut, lost in the sensation, in his own thoughts, perhaps his own fantasy. She wondered what he was thinking as he pushed himself completely into her again and again, his hips meeting her inner thighs.

Taking the initiative she deftly maneuvered a change of positions, on top she controlled the pressure and the pace. She placed one of his hands on her chest. He lightly pinched her nipple rolling it between her fingers and then pinching again. Next she moved his other hand from her hip, placing it firmly on her bottom. He grasped her ass firmly, kneading her flesh as she took a moment to drink in the sensations.

Her pace quickened and she could feel him starting to lose control, hips pushing upward into her; trying to get deeper, to feel just a little bit more of her, straining in the space between pain and ecstasy, those moments of control and unbridled release. She imagined herself completely breathless, the hand on her chest pinching her roughly, pulling and squeezing, the one on her bottom she fantasized was slapping her crisply with each quickening thrust, stinging and marking her cute bottom a lovely shade of pink.

He said “I love you” but she imagined hearing his deep voice telling her what a dirty little slut she was and what he was going to do to her next, “because she loved it”. His release began and with the first sensation of his ejaculation she came. It was overwhelming, hard, and intense as she imagined being nothing more than an object of his lust. She was a slut, wanton, and willful and all his.

She collapsed on him, short of breath. He kissed her and smiled. She snuggled against his chest not ready to let these all too fleeting moments go saying softly “I love you too”. Fulfilled without a doubt, a story book romance, a gentle love scene fitting for a Hollywood ending had just occurred but what happened inside of her mind and how those thoughts had taken her to such arousal and release. In fact what they said about what she really wanted for now would go unspoken.

Michael Malflic

Author Site

Malflic.com Kink, Erotica, and Humor

Twitter FB Fan Page Facebook Good Reads

Author of the erotic romance It Had Been Years available at Amazon for Kindle and in Print

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If you are a regular reader of my blog you know that I have been struggling as of late. There are a few reasons for this, family stuff, work issues, but the main being my heartbreak at losing Him. (No worries, he hasn’t died. He is just off on a path of his own, one he must walk without me apparently.) I was truly surprised at how He affected me in such a relatively short period of knowing him. He was a first in many respects, and I don’t think we ever completely get over our firsts. They leave an impression that can’t be forgotten.

You may have noticed my neglect at posting new fiction pieces. Because of everything that has been going on I have not been feeling particularly inspired to write. It isn’t that I don’t want to write, I do have ideas and have started several pieces, I just can’t get them to come out the way I want. I muddle them up somewhere between conception and when my pencil touches paper. Yes, I do still actually write a lot of things on paper before starting up the computer and posting online. Except for this post, which I am doing on my phone.

I started the Becoming series (which you can catch up with here) earlier this year. My plan was, and still is, to continue this series with a dozen or so stories about this couple and their journey. I have posted three pieces so far and have several more drafts started. I keep projecting my own sorrows and issues onto the characters, which will work for some things but not for others . This is where I need your help.

I would like you to help get me back on track, to be my inspiration, my muse of sorts. Please answer some, or all if so inclined, of the questions I pose below. You can leave your answers as a comment, write your own blog post and leave the link, or email me privately at stellakiink@live.com and I will incorporate some of your answers into the series.

Let’s see how this thing goes!

1. How old were you when you began your journey into BDSM or your first D/s relationship? What lead you there?

2. What was your biggest misconception?

3. What surprised you the most? Was it something you liked, or didn’t like, maybe a response?

4. What was your biggest mistake?

5. What do you want to learn more about? A fetish, fantasy, dynamic, or something else?

6. If you have “guest stars”, where or how do you find them? What are your rules for sharing or inviting someone to join?

7. Do you enjoy rope play? What is it that excites you, as the rigger or the one being bound? (Yes, there are two rope pieces in the draft folder.)

8. What advice would you give to a newbie?

9. What scenarios would you like me to explore with this couple?

10. And because I like even numbers, here’s another… Do you have any special ways of helping with writers block?

I thank you all in advance and look forward to your help. With this, I promise to post a new story very soon.

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