The sun kisses her smooth, caramel-toned skin as she lounges by the poolside, the turquoise water shimmering behind her. Her long, curly hair cascades over her shoulders, catching the light like silk. She wears a sleek, jet-black swimsuit that highlights her radiant beauty. A golden anklet glistens as she dips her toes into the cool water, laughter dancing in her warm brown eyes. Sipping a fruity cocktail, she leans back, basking in the tropical breeze. The palm trees sway gently, framing her elegance like a masterpiece. Confidence and grace radiate from her, turning heads effortlessly in this paradise retreat.

As her glasses dipped down, she noticed him. How could she not. Tall, handsome, and confident, the man at the bar seemed to know everyone. A quick trace of her tongue over her bottom lip, the ebony beauty was intrigued. Leaning over the bar, the female bartender whispered in his ear. What was she saying? God, why did she even care? She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the older male that pulled the young girl in like a moth to the flame.

“Can I get you another drink?” the waitress asked.

Snapped back to reality, the beauty stretched out, ordering a fruity drink from the menu before devising her plan to learn more about that man.

“Hey, who is he?” she asked.

Looking at the bar, the waitress snickered. It wasn’t the first time someone asked about him. Hell, if she had a dollar each time a young girl wanted to know something, she could take a day off.

“Daddy Brian?” she laughed. “I mean, his name is Brian,” she smiled.

A chill radiated over her body. Did the woman call him daddy? She was sure she heard that right, but wouldn’t push it. Not yet at least.

“So, I assume he’s a regular here?” she asked.

Sitting the drink down, the waitress looked over to the bar, her voice lowering a bit, “He is, but this is the first time without his daughter. I’m kind of surprised actually.”

Adinna was curious, but cautious at the same time. She didn’t want to scare the waitress with all the questions, but the older white man seemed to be getting under her skin. The reference to daddy only made it worse. She held that part of her life closed off and tucked away from anyone.

“Daughter? Is she young?” she asked.

“About your age,” the waitress now whispered. “I will be back,” she added.

As the waitress walked away, Adinna watched and waited. Her finger tracing around the rim of the glass, without knowing she slipped it in her mouth, sucking the sweetness from the tip. It wasn’t until the man she was watching noticed did she become excitedly uncomfortable. His smirk said it all, but holding up his drink to cheers her across the pool made the warmth inside of her apparent. Whatever this man was brought a rush of memories back to the young girl. Ones so taboo that the tip of her tongue stung as a warning that some secrets are better left unsaid.

“Brian, the man at the bar sent you a drink. He said,” the waitress giggled, “You look as though you might need something to cool you down. The heat is terrible today.”

Adinna’s hand shook as she took the glass, wanting to know everything about the man. She hoped the waitress could keep a secret and not tell him she asked so many personal questions.

“Tell me about his daughter,” she whispered.

Exhaling, the waitress turned her head away from the bar, her voice low as to not be heard. “She is stunning. Your exact coloring. They play all day at the pool, laughing, touching, but never anything to cause alarm. It’s the night time that tells the real stories. The sounds that come from the young girls room,” she said.

Called away again, the waitress scurried away, she knew she was revealing far too much. The entire staff knew that something was happening. At night Daddy Brian and the young girl would venture into the hotel club to dance, but the girl always wore clothing no father would approve of. Dancing the night away with older men, the young girl always kept her daddy in her line of sight. Her body promiscuous, but her mind, she fed Daddy Brian with every thrust upon those older male guests of the resort.

Watching from the bar, Brian knew he was the center of the conversation between the young girl and the waitress. The way that sensual little minx traced her finger on the glass, and her sienna colored eyes followed him had him intrigued. He was sure the staff at the resort knew about most of his activities, but how much did they really know? If the walls of the hotel room could talk, they would be shocked.

Sunlit Seduction

Finishing her shift, the waitress grabbed a drink, sitting poolside with the young girl. She knew the girl wanted to know more, but on the clock she really needed to be careful. Guest secrets were never to be spilled. Well, until now.

“I’m Mila, by the way. If I let something slip about a guest, please just keep it between us. I can tell that Daddy Brian has his eyes on you,” laughed the waitress, stretching her long legs out on a lounge.

Adinna laughed, her eyes still drawn to the man at the bar. He had sent over two drinks so far, so he knew there was something brewing between the two.

“Tell me, I know there is something more?” she asked.

Exhaling, the waitress sipped her drink before talking. “Well, the staff has said that at night they hear sounds coming from their room. You know, sounds! Plus the room cleaners have found evidence that someone is having taboo delights in their room.”

Adinna chewed her bottom lip as she listened to the confession of the waitress. All of it makes her slender young body warm with need. She had her secrets, maybe some of them the same, but this was the first time someone said them out loud. It made what she was feeling for years so much more real.

“So, they’re having ….sex?” Adinna whispered.

Shrugging, the waitress couldn’t deny or confirm it, but she knew, they all knew the truth.

“I have to go. Be careful what you wish for,” Mila winked before walking away.

Before she could thank her for talking, Brian took her place in the lounge. Stretching out his body, he watched the young kitten like a lion waiting to pounce. The hunger in his eyes from her scent caused his eyes to close and a long inhale savored. She smelled like suntan lotion and his favorite caramel candies. He could almost taste one melting on his tongue. Such a burst of sweet cream that caused a moment of silence between the two. When he arrived at the resort alone he was hungry for something, but now, he was salivating as he waited to get his first taste.

“Well then, it’s about time you allowed time for me,” Brian said.

His voice smooth, low, and seductive, Brian couldn’t get enough of this girl. Something about her told him the stories they could write together would be a masterpiece of sin. He wasn’t much for small talk, but for now, he would indulge. She was worth his time and interest.

“Sorry, were you waiting for me?” she said, her voice filled with anticipation.

“You could say that. I guess, I knew that you needed company tonight,” he replied.

She was flustered at his assumptions, but knew that he was right. She had waited forever to confess things that were growing deep within her core. Twisting the corner of her towel tight, she watched the man who the staff called Daddy and felt her heart race with anticipation. Would he invite her to his room? God, what if he did?

“How did you know that, Da…. Brian?” she asked.

His chuckle painted the picture of the day. He knew right away she wanted to call him Daddy. Most younger women did, and he loved every minute of it. Truth be told he felt himself twitch wondering if her bikini bottoms were getting wet.

“I’ll tell you at dinner tonight. Wear something pretty for me, baby girl,” he said.

Handing the young one a card with his room number on it, Brian excused himself to pay the bar tab and retire to his room for a bit. He wasn’t tired. His hope was she would stew in her own juices for a bit and sexually suffer a bit before joining him.

Along Came A Spider

Your gaze, a spark upon my skin,
A silent promise, warm within.
Your breath, a ghost against my ear,
A whispered pull, so dark, so near.

Fingers trace like liquid gold,
A touch that burns, a tale untold.
Lips that hover, tempt, deny,
A game we play with smoldered sighs.

Night surrenders to your heat,
A rhythm slow, a pulse so sweet.
No words are left, just aching space,
A dance of want, a tangled chase.

Come closer now, let silence speak,
And taste the hunger lovers seek.

As the sun kissed the moon good night and disappeared into the sea, Adinna stood in front of a full length mirror. Her dress the palest shade of blue and clung to every inch of her frame. Breast small, but enough for a mouthful, it was the curve that defined her ass that drove men wild. She was the type of girl that got attention whether she tried or not. Her body was extraordinary. As she brushed her hands down the front of her dress, chills radiated like a blanket over her body. Would she find out the secret behind the noises the staff whispered about, or would she be another story for them to tell? Either way, she needed to find out. Curiosity was getting the best of the young girl.

Perched atop a luxury beach resort, this stunning penthouse offers breathtaking panoramic ocean views. A soft knock on the door brought Brian back to reality. He had spent the last 20 minutes watching the ocean darken, thinking about the new baby girl he met earlier at the pool. Something about her oozed innocence, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She was hiding something deep and dark. Grinning like the Cheshire cat when he heard the knock, his mouth already salivated and he hadn’t tasted her yet. He had something the young didn’t. Patience.

She waited, wondering about the other side of that door. Would she find all the answers she sought, or would he confirm that her own desires were as shocking as his? Time would tell, but as the door opened, her heart fluttered. He was tall, handsome, and defined. It was at that moment that the difference in the color of their skin intoxicated her. She was the color of warm caramel and him, he was a vanilla delight. Something about the two seemed to blend well together.

“Come in, baby girl. I’ve been waiting,” he said.

As though a little spider crawled up her spine, waves of chills caused her breath to catch in the back of her throat. He was baiting her with words and she was dripping wet with each one revealed. “I hope this is what you meant by dressing nice for dinner?” she asked, spinning slowly in the doorway. The threshold between the hall and the room loomed in front of her. Once she crossed it, would there be a point of no return?

He watched her, his smile curling to one side. She looked delicious and anticipating that first taste made him stop and think of his words before speaking. 

“Baby girl, you could wear a sack and still look good. I approve,” he said. 

Savor The Night

Though the air was thick with need, and he knew the moment she took the first step into his room he could have her. That wasn’t him though. A game of cat and mouse would always win out with him. He wanted to be famished when he took her. Right now, he wanted a taste, but waiting was half the fun. Plus, it was time to make half the men in the resort beg for her attention. Brian loved the idea of having what others craved. 

Her eyes sparked with wonder as she watched the man. His body language spoke volumes. He was confident with his movements, striding across the room with almost an air of arrogance. Her breaths were sharp and fast, her body shook at his scent. 

“Thank you. Are we eating here, or?” she quivered as she spoke.

He laughed, holding out his arm for her. Of course they would be dining out. He wanted to show off his newest possession, plus, getting to know her a little better had the tip of his tongue twitching. 

Reaching for her arm, the older man lace it protectively with his. Would people think she was his baby girl? Or would they assume the white man is escorting a beautiful Nubian Princess for the evening. Either way, she will be calling him Daddy Brian by the end of the evening. He knew that the moment she showed up at his hotel room. She might be young, but she wasn’t stupid. She had to know he wanted her in all the filthiest of ways. 

The hotel, a 5 star resort, held a table for the man without reservation, seating the couple the moment they arrived. Seated in a corner table, she could feel the heat of male and females unable to keep their prying eyes off of them. Ordering drinks the moment they arrived, Brian ordered his usual, and a Shirley Temple for his baby girl. She was old enough to drink there, but he loved the thoughts of otherwise. 

“Sweetheart, tell me about yourself. I want to hear everything about you,” he said.

Wiggling for a moment in her seat, her light brown hues took him in. Never in a million years did she expect to be sitting across the table from this man tonight. Her hands in her lap, fidgeting, she bit her bottom lip at what to say. 

“There is not a lot to say. It’s my first trip away from home by myself. My father is a bit protective over me, and my mother left a few years ago,” she said. “I have a younger sister, but she’s with my mom,” she added.

The moment she mentioned living with her father, he wondered why? Most girls stay with the mom, so why not her? His head spun as he played out all the reasons in his mind. 

“Are you close with your father,” he asked, reaching for her hand.

She slid her hand in his, their skin so different, yet it was a beautiful contrast. Brushing the back of her hand with his thumb in a fatherly manner, his intentions were anything but honorable. There was a familiar throbbing in his groin, but he liked it that way. The need was a welcomed relief and intensified his anticipation.

“Very close. He is a good man,” she whispered, her throat parched.

Grabbing the drink as the waitress sat it down, Adinna savored the cool sweetness. What was it about this man that made her want to confess unspoken words to him? Closing her eyes for a moment, her pulse finally settling to a normal pace, she collected thoughts before continuing.

“I love it just being the two of us. When my mother was there, she was very unhappy that I am a daddy’s girl. My sister is the opposite. She clings to my mother as though she is still connected at the tit,” she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. 

Brian smirked, leaning over the table to whisper against her ear. His lips barely touched the slender shell, “Shhh you look stunning with a blush to your cheeks. You’re making daddy throb.”

Both oblivious to the glances of strangers. Women sulking as the men they dined with couldn’t keep their eyes off the young girl. There was something magnetic about the way she laughed. Almost infectious. A few of those men would get a stern talking to later, but it would be worth it. When you see a one in a million woman, you embrace it. 

She leaned back in her chair as though all air left the room. Was he giving her permission to call him daddy? God, she hoped so. It would be in the way she had hoped to use it for many years, but never dared. Everything she wanted was suddenly happening, all of it coming to be, but she was ready for it? 

Eyes locked, neither saw the waiter standing next to the table until he spoke. They were too lost in the moment to even care what others thought.

“Your order, Sir?” he asked. 

Brian ordered for the both of them, smirking at the girl when he told the waiter to bring his daughter another drink. It was the look on her face and the wiggle in her seat that gave indication that by the end of the evening she would beg for daddy to take every inch of that beautiful young body.

Dinner came and went, the staff paying special attention to the table. They knew the man well, and what he needed. Without asking they brought a tray of seasonal fruit, all sweet and picked to perfection. It was his signature dessert, plus, sweet things in,  cause sweet things to come out. There was a method to his madness and tonight when he nestled himself between those creamy thighs all the secrets she held so deep would spill into his mouth. 

Brian waited until the waiter left to bring a slice of the pineapple to her lips. Holding it on the bottom one, he traced the outline of the soft pillow, staining her lips with a light glaze. 

“Bite it, now!” he said

Adinna bit down on the pineapple, a burst of sweet seduction flooded her mouth. There was nothing in her world that compared to the erotic pleasure she was about to receive. She truly was innocent to the devious ways of the older man. His experience and her untapped hive could prove to be mind blowing to all involved. 

Bite after bite, he fed her the fruit, making sure to dribble a bit down her chin. In closed settings he would lap her clean, but here, he took satisfaction in seeing the tiny trial of sweetness on her face.

Are you ready for part 2? It’s coming very soon. 

The post Our time – A secret getaway Part 1 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Since the beginning of time, the fight between good and evil has been prevalent in the Catholic church. Most of it swept under the rug, well, until recent years. With the uncovering of molestation, the entire religion took a brutal hit from the believers and the non-believers—most of them taking a step back until the world moved on to its next conflict. The Catholic church is now under investigation for the sexual contact between Priests and young male parishioners. At Sacred Heart, that is only the tip of the iceberg where the abuse begins and ends.

Vanessa knew the moment she walked into the small chapel where the Nuns prayed she was in for the fight of her life. Someone opened the doors for the Devil and offered a soul to take. A young nun in exchange for a large amount of cash. What is one life when you have twenty more waiting to take her place?

As she entered the small foyer, the first thing Vanessa noticed was the aromatic scent of smoke. Not incense, but cigar smoke. It was pungent and burned her nose the moment she shut the oversized wooden door. There is no smoking allowed on the church grounds, and this was a place not accessible to anyone but the church staff. Heaven forbid, a Priest was not polluting himself with something as vile as smoking a cigar.

“Hello?” she called out. The doors to the main chapel opened only a crack. “You can’t smoke in here? It’s a church,” Vanessa added. As she stood frozen in place, the sound of a male clearing his throat came from the other side of the door. There was someone in there.

“Come in here, Sister,” the voice called out.

Vanessa stood for a moment. She knew the moment she opened the door, she would come face to face with the evilest being. Were the bowels of hell on the other side of the door and the scent she smelled flesh burning from the souls he stole? Or had someone made their way off the streets and ended up in the chapel? Was the voice the fear that she felt rushing through her veins, or was the male a temptation she could never resist? The questions boggled her mind with not only fear, but curiosity. To be lured to the other side of the wall is a test of faith and willpower. At 18, Vanessa was weak in both areas.

“Sister, you will do as I say,” he called out again. A soft tap of fingertips on the polished wood inside the chapel echoed out into the front of the building. The man is losing patience, and though unknown to the young nun, that is the last thing she wants to happen. An idle mind is the Devil’s playground, and though this man lives on the topside of the earth, his connections to hell run deep.

Vanessa slowly advanced, the tips of her fingers tapping on the doorknob. It’s something you do when you fear fire on the other side of the wall. Noticing it was cool, she slipped inside the room, not bothering to open the door any farther. Her petite frame allowed her to glide in without effort. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the change in light, but when they did, she noticed the man sitting at the front of the church. A billow of smoke rising from his lips. He sat there like a King without a crown.

“You can’t smoke in here. The Mother Superior strictly forbids anyone other than members of the church in this portion of the grounds. I can show you to the other church if you wish,” she spoke in a meek voice.

A loud burst of laughter radiated from the front of the church as the male ashed his cigar on the carpet of the old building. His eyes never diverted from the young nun who graced him with her presence. He knew she was attractive, but this girl had the face of an angel, and he was sure that under that bullshit the church forced her to wear, she was exquisite. He could almost taste the honey that poured from her core. Surely, he could smell her cunt through each layer of clothing.

“I can assure you that your Mother Superior has no reason to punish me for smoking here. She’s busy sucking the dick of the Bishop right now, so let’s leave her be, okay?” said the male. As he lifted his cigar to his lips again, she noticed the ring on his finger. Unable to make it out, Vanessa knew that was something special. Maybe this man was not the Devil after all, but then again, was he a wolf in sheep’s clothing? “Come forward and pray for me, sister. I am a sinner, and you need to ask God to forgive me for my indiscretions,” he laughed. Snapping his fingers to get her attention, he pointed to the ground in front of him where he sat.

“Down on your knees. You will take communion from me today,” he smirked.

Vanessa shook her head back and forth, her knees trembling as she advanced, “Please don’t ask this of me. I can’t do this.”

Sitting up, he pulled his zipper down, removing his flaccid cock from his pants. “Get on your fucking knees before I rip the back of your throat out with the head of my dick!”

Tears pouring down her cheeks, Vanessa advanced to kneel between the legs of the man, her eyes on his cock. She knew he intended to hurt her, and she feared the pain that came from within his soul. As Vanessa wrapped her hand tight with the rosary, the young nun moved in, her tongue slithering up the thick underbelly of his massive member. If he was this large at a soft stage, she knew when his erection raged on that she would taste blood in her mouth. Nothing about this man hinted at being loving and sensual.

Using the hand that held the cigar, he wrapped his fingers in the back of her veil. He slowly pushed her mouth down on his dick, not stopping until her warm oral cavity fully engulfed the semi-hard member. A soft growl and his hips pushed up to force the young nun to whimper for air. “Suck my cock, you fucking whore. Suck my dick for Jesus,” he laughed, releasing his hand only to ash the cigar in the middle of her back. His hand quickly went back to the veil she wore, holding it tight as his balls smacked her chin.

Gargles of saliva in her throat, Vanessa felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. She was gagging and choking when his cock reached the full erection, suddenly tasting the copper as it poured down her throat. He had no mercy on the young girl. As her nostrils flared, she fought for each breath she took, not knowing if that would be her last.

Grunting with every thrust, the male pulled back, leaning down to spit on her saliva-covered face. “In the name of God, forgive this little fucking slut for taking the seed of someone other than her husband,” he growled, pushing her head back down in his dick. Three more thrusts and the cum spilled from the head of his dick, ropes of heat flooding her throat. He would not stop until his balls once again sagged with relief.

Pouring from her mouth and nose, the semen of from man stained Vanessa with unbearable heat. Falling back, the young Nun lay on the chapel floor, her eyes fixed at dilated on the stained glass of the ceiling. Were the figure etched in glass laughing at her, or praising her for a job well done?

The male stood and pushed his cock back into the confines of his tailored slacks. As he hovered over the young nun, he pinched the cigar to collect up some of the ash with one finger. Leaning down, he placed the cross on her head with the soot, smirking. “I’ll make my donation on the way out. It was a good prayer session, Sister.”

The post Young Sister Honors Ash Wednesday appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I had always dreamed of being part of this world, of feeling my own fur blend against another’s, of indulging in the sensuality that seemed to linger in the very air. And tonight, I wasn’t just an outsider looking in.

At The Crimson Den, the bass throbbed through my chest as I stepped inside. A scent of musk and wildness hung in the air, mingling with the perfume of expensive whiskey and something far more primal. Bodies swayed on the dance floor, pressed together in tangled velvet and intoxicating fur, whispers of promises exchanged in the heat of the moment.

Then I saw him—a man with obsidian fur, lounging in a shadowed booth, eyes glowing like molten gold. His gaze met mine, predatory and knowing. My breath hitched as he beckoned me with a single clawed finger.

I approached, heart hammering. “First time here?” His voice was smooth, laced with something dangerously tempting.

I nodded. “First time… experiencing something like this.”

His lips curved into a smirk as he reached out, trailing a fur covered hand along my wrist, a spark igniting at the touch. “Then let’s make it memorable.”

Led into the back of the club, the world was different. Naked bodies bound to the walls, the feel of that soft texture caressing their bodies. As the music from the club softened, it was the moans that echoed through my ears. Men and women laying face side to the wall, the simulations to sex mesmerized me. I’ve heard of dry humping, hell, I’ve done it, but these people were pressing their most intimate parts into a textured wall. Screams of pleasure and release rattled around inside of my head. Whatever this place was, it seemed to be euphoric for those that visited. The electricity that radiated through the walls sent shivers up and down my spine.

I let myself be drawn into the night, into the heat of fur against fur, bodies tangling in the soft glow of candlelight. In Velvet Hollow, pleasure wasn’t just a moment—it was a way of life.

The post The Velvet Hallow – A fur coated fantasy appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I don’t even remember the age I started discovering my body, but I know it was young. I’ve heard women mature sexually faster than men do, and I believe it with the experiences I’ve had. The only bad thing is I still live at home, and my parents think that sex is for procreation, and masturbation is a sin. I honestly believe they only had sex one time in their relationship, and that’s when they made me. What’s weird is that both of them are extremely attractive. They work out daily, indulge in personal trainers, and my mother even went away one weekend for a little minor surgery. Oddly enough, her breasts were twice the size when she returned. We never spoke of it, but there was no way you couldn’t notice such a drastic change.

When I turned eighteen, my life changed drastically. I had begun my first year of college and needed to make some extra cash. My parents paid fully for my college, but they gave nothing else. I wanted to hang out with friends, vacation, spring break, and even party, but I couldn’t ask them for more. They were paying for an Ivy League college, and I know that tapped out their finances. The only way I could work was to hide it from both of them. I promised to focus on classes, and they would handle the rest.

Frustrated, my best girlfriend suggested that I go on dates for money with older men. She was doing it and making about five grand a month. The crazy thing was that I was still a virgin, and some of these men wanted sex. Sure, they paid extra for that, but I knew nothing about sex other than what I did to myself nightly. If that wasn’t enough of fear, my father is a cop. What if he found out about what I was doing, or worse, what if he busted me. As nervous as I was, the money was just too much for me to turn down the offer.

My girlfriend Brenda set me up to meet with a client that used her frequently. Brenda told me that he was the kind of guy that loved to spoil pretty girls like us. I’ve heard about sugar daddies, but I never thought I would have one of my own. She also told me that is he likes me, he might be the only client that I will ever need. Have you ever gotten a case of all-over chills? That was the first time for me, and the excitement had me so horny.

Later that night, my pussy needed to be taken care of, and since my parents were out for the evening, I could be as loud as I wanted. I slipped into my bedroom, the door locked behind me. Within seconds all of my clothes laid in the corner of the bedroom. I closed the blinds, sneaking a peek outside before I did. Paranoia always got the best of me when I was touching myself.

My bedroom is still decorated from childhood. The stuffed animals on my bed have seen a lot of my naughty time. Oddly enough, I like to place them on the floor facing the wall each time. It’s as though they will tell on me or worse than that. Judge me for sinning against myself. I pulled back the pink-flowered spread on my bed, put every fluffy animal in the corner, and spread out on the sheets, ready to masturbate my frustrations away.

In my bedroom, there is a mirror on the wall across from my bed. For the first time, I watched as my fingers danced up and down my swollen pussy lips, gasping when they got wet without even spreading them. I almost cried out in quivers of pleasure. I could always achieve little breaths of orgasmic death. I pushed my feet to the edge of the twin bed. My pouty pink slit opened just enough to see my clit. Already swollen, the little bundle of nerves was my greatest find. I remember the first time I came. I hid in my closet for an hour crying because I thought I broke my pussy. How would I explain to my parents that I broke that part of my body if masturbation was a sin?

Dangling a finger above my pussy lips, drops of my fluid dripping from the tips like speckles of rain on my swollen mound. I always did love warm summer rain. Down and in, my slender digits gliding like a paintbrush up and down my soft folds. Only stopping to taunt my clit. A whisper of filth slipping from my lips as the circles are drawn around the tiny bundle of nerves.

“Fucking whore,” I whisper.

My lips quiver as the words of a lover spill, I press my index finger inside, stopping the moment I feel my hymen. God, I want to break it. I want to take away my virginity, but one day will I regret that? The unknown scares me enough to stop and retract my soaking wet finger. If I went deeper, would I pull back and find the sins staining my nails? I am sure I would. For a brief second, I push my candy-coated finger into my mouth and imagine the taste of blood. I’ve never thought about why a Vampire craves blood until that moment.

The ache deepening, my hand follows the warmth as it rushed down my body, slapping hard over my wet pussy lips. The reflection in the mirror tells me that I left a mark. It wasn’t the first time, but god, I want so more. My other hand tugged my erect nipples. I was pulling them from my body until the pain forces me to release them. I didn’t mean to cum, but it wasn’t an accident either. As my finger rubbed over my clit, and my other hand twisted my little buds, I screamed out in waves of pleasure as an orgasm bolted through my body with wicked strikes of painful pleasure. It physically hurt to come that hard, and yet, I’ve never experienced something so beautiful.

As I laid in bliss, thinking about what and how this escort life would be, my phone brought me back to reality. Sliding my slippery fingers over the screen, it was my best friend Brenda sent me a picture. I will never forget the moment I opened it and read the cation.

“I told my sugar daddy all about you, and he wants to arrange a date. I attached his picture so you can see him.”

I think I blacked out for a few moments. The picture was of my father, and there was no way in hell I could ever look Brenda in the face again.

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Standing in the window, Gypsy watched the whole show unfold in front of her. A man on his knees holding a box out to the gasping woman in front of him. She could almost here the screams of happiness coming from the girl. Holding the coffee cup to her lips, she snickered into the warm fluid. In what should have been the happiest moment of someone’s life, Gypsy found humor.

“Oh God, the man of my dreams,” Gypsy laughed.

Cynical by nature, she knew that in time the woman would understand what would become of her. Another female lost to promises of a wonderful life. Granted, he looked well to do, but there was so much more to life. That’s why Gypsy started the Harvest. A secret society of women that travel the world to take the seed of potent men. If they were to make a change, the would need to create their own clan. Dominate women and sub-servant men. Breeding their own inhabitants to form the perfect world for female domination.

As she watched the man take his ring and place it on the woman, a sigh rolled from within. She would need to save this girl before anything else. Give her the life that she deserved. That’s how it all began. The day she decided to arm other females with the gift of grifting. To swindle something small without the owner knowing or worrying because to them, it was needless.

Without forethought, Gypsy placed the cup in the counter softly. She was on a mission to save this female. Sitting on her bed was the only thing she would need. A dress so tight that some would say it came from the contents of a spray can, a pair of pantyhose, and her trademark red stilettos. Five inches from the stem to the base, it allowed her already tall stature to almost resemble a Giantess. Most women didn’t realize the power behind those shoes. A feeble minded man will drop to his knees and beg to be crushed beneath them for her pleasure alone. When she was done every woman on the planet would own an exact replica of her own.

As she watched her transformation in the mirror, no respectful woman would leave the house without her lips being tainted with her scarlet letter. Crimson red applied, she smacked her lips together in a satisfied smirk. There was work to be done, and before that happy couple left, she could make sure the job was complete. Flouncing her hair with the tips of her fingers, she was ready, but was he? Did it really matter? Not to a woman like Gypsy.

The walk was short on that crispy Autumn day. Living across from a family own pumpkin patch had its advantages. As a people watcher she spent many days cackling at the happy families that forged their way through the place. Holding her hand out as she crossed the highway, cars came to a screeching halt, but the heat of the glares only fueled her fire. She was one of those women who had a stage presence no matter where she set up her show. A horn blew in the distance, but that didn’t effect the dark hair seductress. She simple turned, a placed a finger to her lips to silence the rage behind the female driver.

“Stupid bitch, I am here to help you. Shut your fucking mouth before I fuck your husband in front of you,” Gypsy whispered. No one could hear her but the woman, but then again, that was the only one who needed to know her fate.

With the highway now silent, Gypsy sauntered her way into the patch, nodding to the older female at the gate. She knew the truth about the Witch, but her lips would forever remained sealed. Her husband once a stout old man now sat on top of a tractor with his shoulders slumped as he pulled children through the corn fields. One sarcastic moment took away his manhood and left him an impotent little drone. Not that his wife cared. She now had the perfect husband. Obedient and caring to her every want and need. The way the world should be. It’s a woman’s world and one by one men will understand that their existence depends on their submission.

Some women get attention, and others, they command it. When Gypsy walked through the holiday filled courtyard, her pulse never wavered. A steady 66, she was as cool as a cucumber. Confidence is the biggest aphrodisiac a person can own.

Gypsy waited for the man to be alone. His fiancé now headed to wait in a line for the restroom, it was time to go fishing. Soft footfalls of her heels on the concrete, the male turned, watching at the stunning Goddess moved in for the kill. Not literally, but his balls would never be the same after a visit with her.

“Wow, damn girl, you look good,” he said.

Smirking, the whole thing couldn’t be easier. If a man was 30 minutes into being engaged, should he act like a horny teen on prom night? No, but this man was showing his intelligence the moment he opened his mouth.

“I do, and thank you. The name is Gypsy. You are?” she asked.

“The man of your dreams,” he spoke.

God, he was pushing the nails into that coffin with each word he lied. This one wouldn’t be just for fun. It was quickly becoming personal. His girl needed to know how easy a man could be led down a path of destruction, and when she milked him from every drop of his seed, Gypsy would open her eyes to the venom of the snake.

Fluttering her lashes like a school girl, Gypsy moved closer, her hand slowly moving to his testicles, squeezing lightly, “I thought you would say that. How about you come back to my place and show me how to be a real woman?”

With a gentle tug, the beautiful Goddess began the milking, but not to drain, not yet at least. His undivided attention was all she sought for the moment. Once she had that, there would be nothing left but to milk every drop of cum from his balls and own another unsuspecting soul. His fiancé would thank her later.

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The good Christian values do not include porn, phone sex, adultery, or even masturbation. Wasting seed is not acceptable. (The Bible doesn’t explicitly mention masturbation, but it offers clear principles related to purity, lust, and self-control that guide believers in making decisions about sexual behavior. These teachings suggest that actions like masturbation, which can lead to lustful thoughts and behaviors, may be considered sinful.)

Leviticus 15:16-18 says if a man orgasms, on his own or with another person, he is unclean and must take a bath, then wait till sundown to be clean again.

What about nocturnal emissions? Deuteronomy 23:10-11 “If there is any man among you who becomes unclean by some occurrence in the night, then he shall go outside the camp; he shall not come inside the camp”.

By no means am I a Child of God, but what about losing everything to save your soul? In my belief system one is able to self satisfy for the sheer need of pleasure. I am a daily masturbator, so does that mean I am going to hell? According to some, yes, but then again, I am not violating an uninvited couch along the way.

According to the thinking of some is that the world has lost it’s Christian values and we must get them back. I believe that we have a choice in the matter. I don’t want anyone coming into my bedroom and telling me who, what, or where I should have sex. Do you? How about sexual positions? The only one acceptable by the church is missionary and only for procreation. There is nothing wrong with a little pregnancy fantasy, but I will be damned if I lay on my back and take the seed of another because God demands it.

No matter on what page of the bible you stand, there is a very good chance that your right to access things that you enjoy will soon be gone. What will you do if you can’t masturbate anymore?

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In a quaint village nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a man named Frederick. Frederick was known not for his charm or kindness, but for his mischievous ways and penchant for trouble. He was the sort who relished in pushing boundaries, testing limits, and disregarding societal norms with a smirk upon his lips. Yet, his antics had finally caught up with him one fateful day.

It was a bright morning when Frederick found himself standing before the imposing figure of Miss Gypsy, the village’s revered disciplinarian. Her reputation preceded her; she was both feared and admired for her strict adherence to order and discipline. With eyes as sharp as flint and a demeanor as stern as granite, she brooked no nonsense. And Frederick, with his reputation for trouble, had found himself squarely within her sights.

“Young man,” she began, her voice a steely command cutting through the air, “you have caused quite the stir with your antics.”

Frederick tried to muster his usual bravado, but under Miss Gypsy’s unwavering gaze, it faltered like a candle in a storm.

“I… I suppose I may have been a tad… mischievous,” he admitted, a sheepish grin playing upon his lips.

“A tad?” Miss Gypsy’s voice was laced with incredulity. “Your antics have disrupted the peace of this village for far too long. It is time you faced the consequences of your actions.”

With that declaration, Miss Gypsy wasted no time in administering justice. With a firm grip, she guided Frederick over her knee, his resistance crumbling beneath her iron resolve. The village square became a silent witness to the scene unfolding, a tableau of discipline and consequence.

Each strike of Miss Gypsy’s hand upon Frederick’s backside echoed through the crisp morning air, a testament to the severity of his transgressions. Yet, amidst the stinging pain, there was something else stirring within Frederick—a sense of humility, of acknowledgment for the havoc he had wrought upon the lives of those around him.

As the punishment continued, Frederick’s bravado melted away, replaced by a newfound understanding of the gravity of his actions. With each strike, he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders, a burden of guilt and recklessness he had long carried.

Do you believe in Spanking?

And as the final blow fell, Frederick found himself breathless, his cheeks flushed not just from the sting of punishment, but from a deeper, more profound realization. He had been taught a lesson—one that would stay with him long after the echoes of Miss Gypsy’s hand had faded into memory.

As he rose from Miss Gypsy’s lap, his gaze met hers, and in that moment, he saw not just a disciplinarian, but a mentor—a guiding force whose firm hand had set him upon the path to redemption.

With a newfound resolve, Frederick vowed to mend his ways, to become a better man worthy of the trust and respect of his fellow villagers. And as he walked away from the village square, he carried with him not just the memory of his punishment, but the seeds of transformation, planted deep within his soul by the firm hand of the beautiful woman who had shown him the way.

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Isn’t it odd when you know someone is watching you, but can’t do anything about it? I woke up Friday with the feeling that there were more eyes on me than my own. Odd, because I live in a loft apartment and from the street you can’t see in the giant bay window. Well, unless you live in the ocean, and I haven’t seen any sailors lurking.

I’ve always been sort of a nudist, so being on display isn’t an issue for me. In fact, I love when strangers look at me. It’s the main reason that when I wake at the ass crack of dawn each morning that I do a sunrise 3-mile run. I could run any time of day, but the perverts come out when it’s still dark out. I am sure for them it seems dirtier that way. For me, I love to imagine fucking a stranger in the bathroom and never asking his name. If that makes me a whore, I will wear that Scarlet letter with pride.

Still, I can’t shake that feeling. About 2 weeks ago I had my house cleaned by a service for the first time. With the holiday around the corner, I wanted to make sure that it was spotless. My mother can be a white gloved bitch at times. It was then that the light in my head came on and I knew that someone was watching me. It had to be a hidden camera somewhere in my apartment but finding it would prove to be a job all on its own. I’m a minimalist, but the place is spacious.

The camera was the last place I looked, but when I found it, something inside of me snapped. Not knowing who was watching me turned me on. Was it a woman, or a man? Either way, I planned on making sure that little camera was worth it. From the moment I found it, I made sure no clothing was allowed in my house. Again, I am a nudist at heart, so this was easy. Stripping naked in front of the silent eye, every inch of my body tingles in anticipation. What if it was someone I knew? I did have a girlfriend and her man over a few days ago. Could they? No! Of course not. She would never do something like that. Him, now that’s a different story. He acted a little too friendly when he came to dinner. Helping me with dishes, and even taking out my trash. He could be the culprit. I’m not going to lie. I sort of hope it is.

Three days into this little game and I knew that the suspense was killing me. I had to know who it was, and make sure they never forget the way I look when I cum. Putting it to the test, I invited my girlfriend over and told her that I needed to feel her. She and I have played for years, so she was more than happy to come by. Imagine being her boyfriend and seeing your girl bent over getting her ass eaten by another girl. If it was him, he would show himself right away. How could not?

I waited until my friend arrived to fill her in on part of the details. All she knew was that someone was watching, and I needed to know who. As devious as I am, she’s worse. Stripping as we walked to the bedroom, our clothing left a trail from the door to the bed. Poor guy was being put to the ultimate test and didn’t even know it.

My hands roamed over her body, making sure to cup that perfect ass. Nails digging into the fleshy part of her cheeks, I kissed her rough, using my teeth to grab her bottom lip. God damn, was that a growl coming from me? It was. For a minute I forgot about the voyeur and focused on this Goddess in front of me. Sasha is 5ft 8, 110, and has the body of a porn star. I’ve fucked her before, but never like this. I had to have her and if that was her boyfriend watching, I would make him jealous. It was the least I could do for him planting a spy cam inside my apartment.

Pushing her back on the bed, I spread her legs and did the make or break move. Slow and steady I used the tip of my tongue to draw a path from her right ankle to where her thigh meets her hip. God damn, she tasted and smelled like the last peach of summer. Ripe and ready for me to dive in. One lick was all it took, well, and the fact that I asked if I ate pussy better than her boyfriend. The moment she agreed, her phone went off. Guess who it was?

I wanted to laugh when Sasha ignored the phone and let me devour that dirty little cunt of hers. Pressing my hands to her thighs to steady her, I licked from her asshole to her clit. Now I know why the pooh bear licked the honey pot. She was as sweet as honey. Swirling my tongue into her opening, we both jumped when someone pounded on my front door. Nope, he could stand outside and wait and wonder. Poor guy should have enjoyed the movie at home because what I have planned for him is pure torture.

“Should we let him in?” I asked.

Sasha laughed, nodding, “Do it, but let’s get dressed and act like nothing happened. If he acts weird, we know. If not, well, we invite him to play. We can find out how stupid he is with the way he acts.”

As quick as possible we both dressed. Sasha sat on the couch and waited as I opened the door with a huge smile on my face. The look he gave me said everything we already knew. He was the culprit and now, we make him pay for what he did.

“Why are you banging on my door like the Goddamn cops?” I asked.

“Where is MY girlfriend,” he demanded.

I laughed and pointed to the couch. Sasha now dressed, sat with a cup of wine in her hand, faking an innocent smile to her boyfriend. Was he so dumb to think that we would let him catch us in the act? Well, he is a man, so yes.

I giggled when he stormed through the door, shocked that she wasn’t naked and aroused. He thought he would get a show, and all he got was two women laughing at him for being a little pervert.

“Why the hell are you here?” Sasha asked. She knew but wanted to have him say it.

He growled, looking at her, “You know why I’m here!”

Both of us laughed, but I spilled the beans. “Why, because you put a camera in my bedroom. You’re a fucking pervert. How dare you!” I yelled.

“Yeah, how fucking dare you spy on my friend like that,” Sasha laughed. “I should dump you for that,” she added.

“Wait, no. I didn’t do anything. She’s lying,” he cried.

“Don’t dump him. He needs to earn his place in your life again. I have the perfect solution to this. Let’s take him to that place we like to visit. You know the one. It will teach him something he will never forget,” I cackled.

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Note:

In one of my books I write about a girl named Gypsy. Ironic right. It is a mafia based book and this is a piece from the next book. All the names are fiction except one. I thought I would share this piece. Just know, there is graphic sexual content and violence.

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