Letters From Atlantica

Two Fingers Spread Her Pussy

2008-07-21T12:12:00.000-07:00

This weekend I received a text messages on my cell phone. I don't text anybody so I just assumed it was going to be spam. To my surprise, it was a picture of a woman's pussy. Two female fingers were spreading apart the lips.

It was a pretty graphic image. At first I was confused as to why someone would send something so vulgar but then I realized something. I recognized that pussy. It belonged to that Korean women I met at the 'Dark Mare.' For whatever reason, one of the two girls had sent me a picture of Mi-hi's pussy.

I had a feeling that it wasn't Mi-hi's idea. I think about the taller woman and the way she seemed completely in charge. I think it was her idea to send me that picture. I don't know if she is taunting me, or maybe she is sending me a thank you picture for my participation in their game. I haven't been back to that bar since, so maybe it was an award for obeying her. I have plenty of theories but no answers.

I thought about texting back but I didn't. I'll let them make the next move. In the meantime, I have a nice tiny memento for my cell phone.

Going Down

2008-07-18T10:34:00.000-07:00

Ms. Nuit had a new torment for me. She was in the hall outside my apartment this morning. When she saw me, she pulled me over to the service elevator. We stepped in and she knelt before my pants.

She unzipped me and my hard cock was waiting for her. Ms. Nuit took my cock in hand and pointed it at her lips.

"No one will stop the service elevator till we hit the ground floor," she said. "You have until then to come in my mouth."

I groaned. "And if I don't?"

"Then you don't come," she said. "Push the button."

I leaned over her and pressed the button for the ground floor. The elevator shook and Ms. Nuit slid my cock into her waiting lips. Her teeth grazed me as she sucked down every inch.

I had hoped that she would suck me with your usual fury. Instead, Ms. Nuit sucked my cock very slowly. Her tongue licked the underside of my cock in a lazy manner like she was licking candy. I knew better than to try to thrust. All I could do was stand as still as possible while Ms. Nuit took her time tasting me.

The numbers flashed on the elevator panel. They counted down without stop to the end of my blowjob. I wanted to come. I wanted to shoot everything I had down Ms. Nuit's throat. Actually, I wanted to shoot onto her face. I wanted to see my come on her dark face.

Ms. Nuit kept sucking. My cock was engulfed by her mouth. I looked down and past my cock was the dark valley of her breasts. It occurred to me that I had never sucked on her nipples.

I could feel my orgasm building. It was growing slowly but I could feel that blissful surge coming. I think it was the pressure that was turning me on. Or the idea that my cock was right at the back of Ms. Nuit's throat. I was going to choke her with my seed. I was going to beat her bet.

The elevator stopped. Ms. Nuit pulled my cock out and I moaned with disappointment. The tip of my cock was inches from her face. I swear, just one more lick and I would have exploded.

"You'll have to work on that," Ms. Nuit said. She put my cock back in my pants and zipped me up.

"Now get out of my elevator," she said.

The Dark Mare

2008-07-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

Last night I wanted to do something different. There are all of these bars near where I live but since I rarely drink, there didn't seem much reason to go hang out there. It had been a slow day at work and I wanted some sort of excitement. What's the point of living in Atlantica if I don't actually see Atlantica?

I stopped at the first bar that caught my eye. It was called 'Dark Mare'. The neon sign was showed a girl in a cowboy hat. To be honest I thought it might be a strip club.

The inside was what I expected. It was very cowboy cheesy. Ropes, saddles and pictures of cowboys hung on the walls. Bull horns were every where. The color scheme was yellow and brown. Sawdust covered the floor.

It would have been redneck heaven except for one little detail: it was filled with Koreans. It was bizarre. I think there might have been one or two other white people and they all sat alone. As for the Koreans, they were mostly women. They sat in groups, talking at a low whisper among themselves. There was no music, which made it the quietest bar I have ever seen.

I should have left but I was intrigued. There is a large Korean population in Atlantica but they are mostly centered on the south side of town. Other than an Asian food market, this was the largest group I had seen. And I had never seen so many Korean women. I wanted to see more.

I sat down at a table. A waitress silently took my order. She brought my drink without saying anything and I began to think I was making a mistake by coming here. I sipped my drink and hoped the alcohol would help me relax.

The women around me whispered to each other. I looked around the bar and tried to figure it out. There was no music. There was a small stage with a karaoke machine but no one ever went to it. Small booths without tables were in the back, but the lights over there are were turned off. If it wasn't for the beautiful exotic women around me, I would have left without finishing my drink.

Two women came up to me. The taller girl was giggling but the taller oner was very serious. They looked like they were college students with their bright t-shirts and black shorts. They had identical haircuts with their black hair framing both sides of their face.

"Come," the taller girl said. She picked up my drink and both girls walked away.

My heart leaped. Did I just get picked up? I followed them but I got worried as I saw they were heading towards the back. I saw that the booths were angled so that people in the bar couldn't see the people in the booths. For a moment, I was afraid that I was being lead to some sort of robbery.

The taller girl pointed at one side of the booth. "Sit," she said. She sat down opposite me, still holding my drink. She sipped from it and shared it with her friend. They didn't offer me any.

"Hi," I said. There was no table to hide behind. I sat with my hands on my knees, not sure what to do with them. "My name is Dwayne," I offered.

"Mi-oh," the giggler said.

"Mi-hi," the taller one said. I wasn't sure if she was correcting her friend, or making some sort of joke.

"This is a pretty odd place," I said. I was trying to make conversation.

They said nothing. The giggler finished my drink.

"Do you girls live around here?" I asked.

They didn't anwser. The taller one looked at me while her friend took out her cell phone. The giggler checked something while the tall one just kept looking at me.

"Take out your cock," the tall one finally said.

"Excuse me?" I said. I heard her perfectly in the quiet bar but I wanted to hear it again.

"Unzip your pants," she said, like she was talking to a mentally disabled person. "And show us your cock. You have one, right?"

The giggler laughed.

I looked at the rest of the bar. No one was even looking in our direction.

Why not?

I unzipped my pants. I pulled them down to my thighs. My boxers are pretty loose so I was able to just pull my cock through the slit. I was hard.

There was a flash and I realized the giggler had taken a picture of my cock with her cell phone. I jumped and covered myself.

"No!" the taller girl said. "Keep it out."

She turned to the giggler and said something harsh and mean in Korean. The giggler stopped laughing and nodded submissively. I heard the click of the cell phone as the camera took another picture, this time without the flash.

I removed my hand. This was so weird, but so very hot.

The taller girl pumped her fist in an obscene way. I realized she was giving me an order. I stroked my cock.

She nodded with approval and said something in Korean. The giggler gave her the cell phone and then unzipped her own pants. She pulled down her shorts all the way to her ankles. There was no underwear. I could see her smooth sex, completely lacking in hair.

"Dwayne," the taller girl said.

"Yes?" I asked. I kept stroking. I wasn't going to stop till she told me to.

"Mi-hi," she said, pointing to the giggler's pussy.

I didn't understand. I am not sure I needed to. The one giving orders started to stroke Mi-hi's pussy. Or maybe Mi-hi was the pussy. I don't know. All I know is the one girl started to masturbate the pussy of the other girl while I kept stroking my cock. I'm pretty sure that is all I needed to know.

While the taller girl was busy stroking her friend, the friend was looking right at me. Her brown eyes flitted between my pumping cock and my face. Her lips opened as she panted. Color spread across her cheeks, making her face red like she was being slapped. She wasn't giggling now.

Meanwhile, the one in charge was ignoring me. She had three fingers buried in Mi-hi's pussy. She was finger fucking her very hard, not so much stroking as much as jabbing that smooth sex. Her fingers glistened with Mi-hi's desire. I groaned as I realized that desire was caused in part by me.

Mi'hi had her camera again. She pointed it at me as I pumped my cock. She took pictures and I felt my cock grow harder. She pointed it at her own sex and took pictures of the furious fucking she was receiving. I thought about those pictures meeting in her cell phone. I might not get to touch her, but my cock was side by side with her pussy in her photo album.

She stopped taking pictures when she climaxed. She stared at my face as she trembled from head to toe. Mi-hi made these odd little sounds, like little tiny chirps.

"ah,ah,ah,ah," she cheeped.

"Mi-oh," she moaned when the taller girl pulled her fingers out.

I climaxed. I think it was the fear that they were going to make me stop that made me come. I wanted to climax before they could say anything. I wanted to climax while I still had Mi-hi's pussy still in front of me.

My semen flew from me. It landed on the floor between us. The two women looked at it with such disinterest. I really felt they could care less.

"Pull your pants up," the taller one said. She said something in Korean to Mi-hi and she did the same thing. My cock was still sensitive and hard but I managed to pull my pants back up.

"Give me your phone," the taller one said.

I didn't hesitate. She took my phone and Mi-hi's. She did something with both our phones but she didn't explain it to me. Mi-hi kept looking at me, a pleasant sleepy smile on her face. I felt like we had fucked.

She gave my phone back to me. "Leave here now," she said.

"What?" I said. "Did I do something wrong?"

An ugly scowl crossed her face. "Just go, now! Leave the bar. Don't come back to the bar, ever!"

I didn't know what to say. Then again, I didn't know anything about what had happened. I got up and on unsteady legs, walked out of there.

I went home. I thought about Mi-hi's sex being fucked by the mean Korean woman. I thought about my own cock inside that smooth sex.

I have so much to jack off to.

Weekend Affairs

2008-07-14T11:09:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend doing work. I took home a bunch of brassieres and worked on them in the quiet of my apartment. It can be freeing sometime to work without interruptions from customers.

I spread the brassieres all through out the apartment. Bright color cups kept me company. In the kitchen I hung two red lace brassieres while a rainbow of C-cups hung in the living room. I had an expensive black satin brassiere that I kept in the bathroom. They were all tattered and worn, hanging until I plucked them and repaired them at the small table I worked at. When they were repaired, I would carefully put them back in the work bag.

For the bedroom, I hung a yellow pair of gigantic cups that belonged to Mrs. Avfyra. I hung them from the top corner of the closet door. The apple scent from her bosom filled my small bedroom.

At night I would lay in my bed looking at them. I could picture the massive breasts that filled them. I could see the fold of the fabric where her nipple stresses the fabric. In the morning, the early sunlight would bathe the room in orange light and I could easily imagine Mrs. Avfyra's golden red hair falling about her breasts.

When I gripped my cock I could imagine how those breasts must taste. When I stroked myself, I could imagine how hot Mrs. Avfyra's breasts would feel wrapped around my cock. When I climaxed, I could imagine Mrs. Avfyra's laughing lips catching my come.

I repaired her bra last.

It Wasn't A Whisper

2008-07-11T14:26:00.000-07:00

I saw the window cleaner last night. They come out at night, scrambling up on their scaffolds to clean the windows that only they can reach. In the middle of the night, I will awaken to the dull thud as one of their scaffolds bang against the glass.

Here's the crazy part: sometimes when I wake up, I can hear my name being called. I know that the glass and the walls are too think to hear anything from the city outside but still, I hear it. Only when Atlantica is is dead silent, but still I hear my name called.

Last night I couldn't sleep. It's been a busy week as everyone brought in their swimsuits to be repaired after the holiday. My fingers ache from all the stitching and I just couldn't settle down. I was awake in the darkness of my room. I had the shades open so I could see the city.

The scaffold came down around three in the morning. A thin waif of a girl scrubbed my window. I don't think she saw me. She was wearing an ugly jumpsuit that covered her body but her hair, oh my. Her hair was red and tied back in a ponytail. Maybe it was the city lights, but her hair was like fire in the darkness.

She cleaned my windows and I watched her. I was too afraid to move. I wondered if she was the one who said my name at night.

I had my anwser. She reached between her legs with the end of her scrub brush. Right outside my window, she humped her brush. Her legs braced wide, she rubbed against her brush as she leaned her head against the glass.

Her body shook. She stopped moving her hips and I heard her say my name, like a faint whisper. That's when I realized that it wasn't a whisper. It was a scream.

The window cleaner moved the scaffold down. I got up and looked at the glass. I could see where her head had sweated against the glass.

I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn't stop thinking about her. The sun came up and I saw the smear of her sweat, the only proof that it wasn't a dream.

Sick Day

2008-07-02T06:29:00.000-07:00

I did as Ms. Nuit asked. I called in sick. I felt terrible lying to Mr. Everett but at the same time, I was so excited. I couldn't wait to find out how Ms. Nuit wanted her back payments. I pictured a long day of leisurely sucking.

I was wrong. I was right. I had no fucking idea.

I arrived at the management office at 6:45. She had told me seven, but I was taking no chances. I didn't want to anger her. I was too hard to risk anything.

She was there before me of course. So were the two other women who usually work in the office. They were dark like Ms. Nuit, and they all shared that same cruel smile. I think they might be related, perhaps they are her sisters or her cousins. They didn't have Ms. Nuit's ample breasts though.

When I saw the other women I was afraid that Ms. Nuit wouldn't want me there. I was wrong. She stood up and without saying anything, she grabbed me by my shirt collar and pulled me to the back of the office. She took me to a door where they keep office supplies and packages. There was a chair sitting in front of a small table. Ms. Nuit pulled me into the small room and my cock throbbed.

"Turn around," she ordered. As soon as I did, she slipped cloth over my eyes. It was a blindfold and I couldn't see a thing. Then she pulled down my pants. She pulled down my underwear and took off my shoes. She pushed me down so that I was sitting on the cold wooden chair.

Ms. Nuit took my hands and pulled them to the sides of the chair. Cold leather slipped around my wrists. I almost said something but I was too afraid. My hands were tied tight and I could barely move them. She did the same thing with my ankles, wrapping cold leather that held me tight to the chair.

I moaned.

"None of that," Ms. Nuit said. "They might hear you in the office. If any one hears you, I will open the door and show them what a pervert you are. You understand me?"

I nodded, silently.

She grabbed my cock. I bit my lip as her lips descended over my cock. I stifled my groans and tried to keep quiet while her tongue did danced on my cock. I couldn't see but I could feel her long hair falling over my lap. I could feel her breasts pressing against my knees. I could feel her sharp nails scratching my balls.

I came. I came in less than a minute. I was ashamed by how fast as I was, but I stayed quiet.

Ms. Nuit sucked until I was drained. Then she stood up and I heard the door open and close. She left me alone.

I sat with my wilting cock.

I don't know how long I sat.

Eventually, the door opened again. My cock came back to life. The footsteps were different. I don't know how I could tell, but there was a different person here. It was one of the office women.

I heard clothing being removed. I heard the table groan as someone climbed on top of it. I smelled the pussy, wet and ready to be worshiped.

A hand grabbed my hair and pulled me forward. My restraints pulled my arms painfully back as the insistent hand pulled my head to her sex. My shoulders hurt but I leaned forward. I leaned till my face was buried in pussy.

I ate. I licked. I dove my tongue into the pussy I was being offered. I did my best to devour her.

Her hand stayed on my head. My wrists burned from the restraints tugging me back. The hand wouldn't move though and that was okay. I was so hungry. I was dying of thirst and I was being quenched. I lapped like a dog at her sex.

I felt her come. Like me, she was making no sound but I could feel the spasm as I flicked her clitoris with my tongue. Her thighs clenched around my head and then released. Only then did her hand let me head go and I was able to sit back again.

The door opened and closed. I was left there with pussy juices on my face.

Time passed. My ass started to ache from sitting there so long. My cock was hard and there was nothing I could do about it.

The door opened again. My cock throbbed as I heard clothing being removed. I almost whined when I heard the groan of the table in front of me. I sighed as different hand pulled me forward into another pussy.

I licked again. My tongue was exhausted but I didn't care. My shoulders were aching but I kept eating. I drank every drop of desire and nibbled on every inch of her sex.

The unknown woman came. Her fingernails dug into the back of my head and I heard a series of gasps. Then the hand released and pushed me away. My cock was ignored as I heard her dress herself and go out.

Time passed.

Someone came in and sucked my cock. It was someone with small breasts but sharp teeth. She bit me constantly, going around my head with tiny bites. Finally she stopped biting and just jacked me. Her lips sealed over the tip of my tender cock as she pumped me. I shot my load into her mouth. She kept jacking me till I was drained.

They left and I wondered which of the office ladies it was. Could it have been the one next to the water color, the one with the closely cut hair and the dark red lipstick? Or was it the woman by the printer, the one with her hair pulled into a ponytail and bright smile?

Time passed.

The door opened again. This time I knew it was Ms. Nuit. She undressed slowly. I was so excited as I heard her climb onto the table. She grabbed my hair like she owned me and pulled down to her sex.

I was smothered in the bush of her pubic hair. The other girls were shaved but this sex was protected by a forest of perfumed hair. My tongue parted her hair and dived into her sex. The hand pulled me tighter, sealing her sex over my face. I struggled for air but the chair and the restraints made it impossible. Only when my tongue found a certain spot that made the woman grind in pleasure was I able to come up for air. My respite was always brief as I was always quickly pulled back down.

I nearly choked several times. I always kept licking though. I ate furiously, knowing that my only chance at survival was getting her off quickly. I licked with all my strength as she tried to suffocate me with her pussy.

She came. Both hands wrapped around my head and pinned me to her sex. I thought I was going to die. I wouldn't have minded.

She released me. I gasped loud for air, not caring who heard. I was so concerned about breathing, that I didn't realize she had dressed till I heard the door close again.

Time passed.

Someone walked in and untied my restraints. They left my blindfold on. They stood me up and walked me to the door. I started to moan, afraid that they were going to throw me out without my pants or underwear. They ignored my moans and guided me through the office. We walked onto cold tiles and someone held my penis.

"Piss," she said. I don't know who it was.

I couldn't.

"Piss, dumb ass," she said again.

I concentrated and managed to do it. She held my cock as I pissed into must have been the toilet. When I was done, she shook my cock and rubbed it with a wet cloth.

They guided me back to my chair. I felt so humiliated, I was happy to be restrained again. I was happy to be locked away in the supply closet.

The rest of the day was a blur. I was so terrified of repeating the bathroom trip that I was grateful for anything that happened. My cock was sucked until I came. My face was buried in pussy until they came. Over and over till my face was sticky with sex and my cock was empty.

"You can go now," Ms. Nuit said.

My hands were released. I had to release my ankles myself. Ms. Nuit stood there, looking bored as I found my underwear and pants. My arms and legs were sore but I kept moving. I almost cried when my underwear went around my sensitive abused cock.

"Am I caught up?" I asked.

Ms. Nuit laughed. "I'll let you know."

Late Payments

2008-06-30T09:36:00.000-07:00

Ms. Nuit was waiting in the elevator. Her jacket was partially open. I could see those dark breasts that so much of my seed has touched but I never have. Today I could tell that her bra was blue.

"We had an arrangement," she said.

I nodded. "I haven't see you lately." It was true. When Gina was staying with me, Ms. Nuit seemed to disappear. Months went by and I never saw her. I thought she had become bored with me.

"That is not my problem," she said. She came over to me as the elevator rumbled downwards. She reached for my pants and grabbed the bulge that was growing there.

"You are behind on your payments," she hissed. Her breasts pressed against my chest. I would have given anything for both of us to be topless.

"when do you want me to make them up?" I asked.

"Right anwser," Ms. Nuit said. "Come by the office tomorrow morning, at 7 am."

I groaned. "I need to be at work by 8."

She squeezed my bulge painfully. "Call in sick that day. Call in sick, or you won't have a place to sleep tomorrow."

The elevator chime rang. She released my cock and stepped away from me. The doors opened and residents filed in. No one suspected a thing.

My cock has been hard all day long.

They Carried Him Away

2008-06-26T11:04:00.000-07:00

I saw a kidnapping today. It scared the shit out of me. I mean, you see it all the time on the news but this was so different. This was happening ten feet away from me.

I was at the train station waiting for train to work. There was about six of us waiting underground. We were shivering because you dress for the insane heat outside but they have the air conditioners cranked up to arctic temperatures. We were all standing apart from another trying not to make eye contact.

I saw the women first. There were four of them and they were wearing red leather jackets and ragged blue jeans. Their leader had a short purple mohawk on her other bald head. The other three girls were bald. I say girls because they all had those skinny bodies that only teenagers possessed. Their jackets were open to reveal small bras holding smaller breasts.

The leader though, she was something different. I think she was their age but her eyes were so much older. They were brown and when they looked at me, I could feel the anger radiating off them. She had a metal stud in her nose that looked like a little spike. Her bottom lip was bruised like she had just been punched. When she looked at me, she licked her swollen lip.

She walked past me, her head turning to look at me. She narrowed her eyes, looking for something in me that I didn't have. As she walked by I saw some sort of patch on her jacket shoulder. It looked like black unicorn, rising up on it'ss back two legs.

They walked past me and straight to a guy who was ten feet down the platform. They didn't say anything as the leader walked up to behind the man. He looked away and she pulled her hand out of her jacket. She was carrying metal rod about eight inches long. She hit him in the back of the head. The sound of it hitting his head echoed in the quite station.

The guy went down. The other three girls started kicking the shit out of him. The tips of their boots flashed silver as they kicked him. The guy kept trying to stand and they would just kick him back down. Part of me wished he would stay down and maybe they would stop kicking him.

Their leader just watched. For that matter, so did everyone else. I think we were too shocked. Either that or just too afraid.

The leader snapped her fingers and the kicking stopped. They reached down and started ripping his clothes. They dismantled his shirt and pants like he was an animal that they were skinning. With each strip of cloth they ripped off, one of them would use the strip to restrain the poor guy. They bound his hands behind his back, they secured his ankles to his knees and they used his socks to gag him.

Once he was trussed up, the three girls picked their prey up like he was an over sized suitcase. I was a little curious how they were going to go up the stairs and through the pedestrian exit. Instead of going that way, they headed to one of the dozen doors I see every day in the train stations. It was marked with those fearsome red letters that warned that only authorized people were allowed in but the gang just opened it and entered some sort of dark hallway. I was taken by calmly they did it, like that was what those off limit doors were for.

The train arrived a minute later. I got in it and it was only when I sat down that I realized I was shaking. Who were those girls? What did they do with their victim? Why did their leader choose him?

Why didn't she choose me?

He Cuts Her Breasts

2008-06-23T13:01:00.000-07:00

I want to tell you about what happened today. Ms. Kellar was a thin woman with sharp angle cheekbones. Her frosted blonde hair peeked out from under her hat, looking more like an accessory for her beautiful hats than actual hair. She always wears a thin coat that cloaks her body from collar to ankles.

She needed her brassieres repaired. There were three of them, black satin with white fringes. All of them were cut. I am used to seeing tears or torn seams where wear and tear stress the bras but these were sharp lines caused by an edge. They had been sliced and I saw blood on the material.

I didn't say anything. Mr. Everett always said that since we deal with our clients' most intimate apparel, we had a duty to refrain from asking about their lives. Discretion is a clothier's greatest asset.

Ms. Kellar told me anyway. "He uses a knife. He carries it with him always. When he is angry, or just aroused, he cuts through my clothes. Sometimes he cuts me."

I didn't know what to say. "Who?" I asked. "Are you in trouble?"

Ms. Kellar smiled. "My lover cuts me. And yes, I am in trouble, but there is nothing you can do about it."

She unbuttoned the top button of her coat. She unclasped another, and another. She revealed a black blouse, which she pulled down. Leaning towards me, I looked down her blouse and onto her pale breasts. The ugly line of a cut marred her pale breast. The line of the cut dipped between her cleavage and out of my sight.

"See?" she said. Her tone implied that she wanted me to understand.

"I see," I said though I did not understand.

"Can you fix them?" Ms. Kellar asked.

I looked at the frail brasseries. The material was expensive and hard to work with. I could mend it though. When I am finished with them, you would never know they had been cut.

"Yes ma'am," I said.

Ms. Kellar buttoned her coat back up. I wondered what other cuts lurked below. I wondered what things her lover did after he cut her.

I wondered if she liked it.

I Was a Throne

2008-06-13T10:07:00.000-07:00

I'm back. I never left I guess but I met somebody and well, fucking her was better than blogging about fucking.

That is why I stopped writing at first but in time, I stopped writing because Gina would suck all of time into herself. I didn't sculpt. I didn't write. I barely did my job. My life was Gina's.

That sounds bitter but I'm really not. Gina was like a knight in shining armor. She remind me of King Arther's secret lover, Dame Lanca of the Lake. Gina protected me. She kept away my dark landlady. she promised to help me get a better job. She held me when the glass cleaners would whisper my name. Gina was my heroine.

She wanted to be my keeper.

Gina kept me inside the apartment any moment I wasn't working. At first I delighted in it, for she walked around my apartment in the nude. Her golden hair lit up my life. Her pale skin was like a beacon in a city so dark. It was months before I realized that she was a glittering prison of gold hair and ivory thighs.

She hated going out. She never wanted to go to the theater or the park. She barely could tolerate me talking about work. Gina's world consisted of me and her and for a brief time that was good.

She always wanted to fuck. Gina was always happiest when she was on top of my cock. She would sit upon my cock like it was throne. Her thighs would hug my hips like I was her mount. Her fingerstips would grze my chest hair, idly dragging her nails across my chest.

I would try to reach up to cup those pale breasts but she refused me. Her pink nipples were to be seen, not sucked. Her nipples were to be admired, never kissed. Her nipples existed for her adornment, never for my tongue.

Slowly she would rock back and forth as if holding court. She never humped me. Gina would never deign to do something so low. She would sit, lean and sometimes reposition. Her pussy would encompass my cock and nothing more. She would soak my cock with her desire but my thrusts were always discouraged.

I always found a way. If she leaned left, I leaned right. If she squeezed, I would thrust. It would take an hour of slow accidental fucking but I would build up my excitement till I could wait no longer. In the absence of vigorous fucking, I learned to climax from the smallest motions. On sensitive days, I would cum from the motion of her breathing alone.

I don't know if she ever climaxed. When I came, Gina would frown. It was a frown filled with disappointment and resentment. I never understood why. She refused my questions.

Gina left me. There was no reason offered. She took her clothes and left. She still had that look of disappointment. She asked little of me and yet I still failed her. That might be too harsh. I think the fact that I could not divine her displeasure was my flaw. Gina needed her own loyal knight to rescue her from the dragons only she knew about.

This is better. I feel free and I did not even know I was imprisoned. I see the stone that I had bought waiting for me. I saw Ms. Nuit lurking in the hallway. I am looking forward to work on Monday. I want to be part of the city again. There are adventures in Atlantica and I somehow feel that I was almost abducted by Gina away from this fabled city.

I want to live.

Sugasm #106

2007-11-22T06:08:00.000-08:00

Sanctum courtesy of Erotic Garden.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #107? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

5 Advanced Deep Throat Techniques

“Suck your man’s penis into your throat, and, while it is deep in, start to hum.”

MILF = Men I’d Like to Fuck

“He knows my body p e r f e c t l y and knows exactly how to make me squirm with pleasure and always knows the right thing to say.”

Reconciling Desire & Reality (part 2)

“The excitement of sharing her, the excitement of my arousal THEORETICALLY should mean a heightening of our own sex life.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Our fearless leader tells me he’s crazy busy so I’m presenting one from the vaults.

The Six Types of Porn Movie (and How To Get Into Them)

Editor’s Choice

Primed

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Sex News & Reviews

The End of the Mile-High Club

Fetish Film - Squealer (BSDM, Master, Shibari)

My controversial, nipple-baring Dirty Girls book cover

NEW Culture Shocking Designs!

Sex Toy Review: Mini Bullet One Touch Vibrator

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

Am I born as a Whore?

Floral HNT

He’s Horny and She’s Easy

The Humble Handjob

I’ll assume i’m on the naughty list

Minus One

Obsessive Compulsive Slut

Re-discovering myself

So, doc, when can we…

Virgin Extraordinaire

Sex Poetry

Now and Zen

BDSM & Fetish

The **** machine

Erotica: Mind Games

Generic Pussy?

Get the contract signed- part two: vital lessons

Just a Few Naked Pics of Amy’s Perfect Body

Naked Service

What a Saturday

What is a Daddy Dom? Pt. 2

Sex Advice

Six ways from Sunday - Cowgirl (reversed or otherwise)

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Bad Girl

Betrayal

Dark Cold Moons

Dichotomy

Halloween

Icing on the Cake

Like Me

The Main Course

Multi-tasking

Second Time Around

Sex Party in the Hood

Stressed Wanking

Sex Humor

Fuck’n Fun

Untitled No. 1

Sex Work

Reality Check: Eating Food

NSFW Pics & Videos

Day trip to porno town

Hannah Hilton Sexy Bikini pics

Lisa wants a spanking

Sanctum

Self-portrait in Boots

A Hot Femdom / Slave Boy Strap-On Scene

Dark Cold Moons

2007-11-15T09:50:00.000-08:00

"I was going to let you tit-fuck me," Ms. Nuit said.

I groaned and kept masturbating.

"I was going to suck your cock till it was slick enough to slide between my tits," my dark tormentor said.

I moaned and stroked faster.

She cupped my balls and squeezed. Nails sharper than tacks threatened my skin.

"Now I am not," she said.

I nodded. It was unfair. It was cruel. It wasn't my fault that the buses ran late today. It wasn't fair that I decided to eat dinner early before coming home. I didn't even know she would be here, sitting in my apartment waiting to give me these wonderful gifts. None of this was my fault but I agreed to her punishment. It was what I deserved.

I don't know how long Ms. Nuit had been inside my apartment waiting for me. When your apartment manager sneaks into your apartment for sex, it seems almost rude to ask her questions about her break-ins. I knew she had been here awhile because when I walked in the door, the apartment was already filled with her spicy perfume.

I also knew she was pissed by the way she tapped her foot but to be honest I wasn't thinking much about that. Ms. Nuit was sitting in the one chair I had in the apartment; a cheap piece of white plastic that seemed far too tawdry a piece of furniture for someone as refined as Ms. Nuit. Funny how she was sitting topless in the chair, but my first concern was that my chair wasn't good enough for her. I thought she was pissed because all I had for her was a chair I bought from IKEA.

"Come here, Dwayne," she said. "Do you like to keep me waiting?"

"No," I said. I almost said something about not knowing she was here but I kept quiet.

She looked at me. Ms. Nuit had to decide if the wait had ruined whatever she wanted to do. I took the chance to look at her. Every time she had sucked me off, she had kept her clothes on. Now she was sitting here with her blouse and bra neatly folded on the table beside her. her red and gold skirt was still on but that was okay. I could see her beautiful dark breasts and that is all I needed. They were perfect black moons and as pissed as she was, they were just as untouchable as the moon.

"Take off your pants," she commanded. Which is how I ended up stroking my cock in front of my merciless landlord. That is why she was slowly crushing my bails in a sharp nailed vise. This is why I was jacking my cock as fast as I could. I was just praying that I would come before she told me to stop.

This is why I was so damn hard.

Her fingers pulsed around my balls and I cried out from the sharp pain. "You could never afford a place like this without my permission," she said.

I nodded. Outside my window I could see the nighttime beauty of Atlantica. My face flushed with shame but I kept stroking.

"You live her because I find you useful," Ms. Nuit said.

"Yes," I groaned. I was so close. Her luscious tits were inches away from me. The dark jewels of her nipples looked as hard as my cock.

"Remember that," Ms. Nuit said although I could tell from her voice that she knew I never forgot it.

My legs shook from standing on the bus and now having to masturbate while standing before her. I stayed on my feet out of pure lust. Well, that and Ms. Nuit still had my balls in her grip. I could have stood there for a hundred years for her.

"Now come," she said.

It took me barely a minute. I cried out as I came. My seed flew from my cock and landed on her breasts. My white stream seemed to glow on her dark skin. I watched in fascination as I kept pumping. I pumped load after load onto her dark skin in a futile attempt to somehow touch those forbidden globes. I only stopped stroking when I knew I was completely finished.

The sharp fingernails dug into my balls and my cock ejected a few more drops.

Ms. Nuit released me. She stood up and her come-covered tits came so close to touching me.

"Help me dress," she said.

My heart leaped. I reached for her brassiere. It was dark red with gold fringe. I couldn't guess how large her lovely breasts were, but I instantly knew that her brassiere was a d-cup. I guess being a clothier does have it's advantages. I picked it up and tried to help her put it on.

Ms. Nuit took it from my hands and put it on herself. She pressed her brassiere to her tits, not bothering at all to wipe herself first. She smeared my come into her body and I felt that once again she was taking something of me away for later use. Ms. Nuit did turn around and let me fasten her clasp for her. My fingers brushed her skin and I was grateful for that little touch.

I next helped her with her blouse but this time I didn't get to touch her at all.

"You have too much space," Ms. Nuit said. "Get some furniture or something."

"I'm planning on buying some stone for a sculpture," I said. "I'll need the space."

Ms. Nuit snorted. The nails, the humiliating words and perpetual teasing didn't hurt me nearly as much as that mocking snort. "I'll beleive it when I see it," she said.

She left my apartment. I sat down in the chair and took a deep breath. Her spicy scent filled me. My cock was still throbbing and my balls were still sore. I was tempted to masturbate again but what she said bothered me. She didn't beleive I was ever going to work on my sculpture. It should have made me angry but I felt like she was right. I would rather look at her tits. I would rather feel her nails on my skin. I would rather be used by her.

This weekend, I swear I am going to go stone shopping.

Panties

2007-11-13T07:46:00.000-08:00

I haven't talked about my job much. I work as a clothier, which means I technically work on women's undergarments. I should be repairing brassieres, panties and corsets. I should be mending tears, rebuilding underwires and resizing corsets as the client grows or shrinks.

The reality is far less interesting. Mr. Everett does all the actual repairs. He works in the back with his assistants while I sit out front behind the desk. Mr. Everett says that all of his new assistants do this but I am dubious. I'm not sure what manning the registrar and writing down order forms does for me as a clothier. I shouldn't complain too much I guess. It is a ridiculously high paying job where my only trouble is dealing with women who have damaged underwear.

The one good thing is that I get a tiny amount of work to do. Sometimes we don't have a client come in for hours, so Mr. Everett keeps me busy by giving me panties to mend. At first I used to find it a little boring but after getting yelled at by one client for the really crappy job I did, I take it a lot more seriously. It can be really interesting. You have to get the thread color just right. You have to simulate the stitch or else the fix can look worse than the tear. It's less about repairing panties and more about recreating them. Every pair of panties are different and you really don't appreciate that till you have to find the right shade of crimson lace to go along the edge of a waistband.

I wasn't going to mention my job. I mean, it's sexy and all but I thought I would keep a little but to myself. I'm telling you about how I like it when Ms. Nuit's fingernails grip around my balls so you can forgive me if I want to keep somethings to myself. I had worked out a fake job to tell you about and even researched it a little but now that seems so stupid.

Plus, I really want to tell you about Mrs. Avfyra and her panties.

Mrs. Avfyra is a large woman with golden red hair. There is something just big about her, from her smile, to her rosy cheeks, to her immense bust to her very wide hips. She's so loud and her hair always floats like a halo around her head. It's thick and heavy but there is just so much of it that it fills your vision. I like her a lot. She's always happy and her panties are like nothing else.

The first thing you notice is how sweet they smell. Her panties smell like applesauce. There's nothing else to describe it like. At first I thought it might be perfume, or some sort of detergent scent. If you put them beside other panties, they will start to smell too.

You know how a bad apple spoils the barrel? With Mrs. Avfrra's panties, it's like they are the apple that makes rotten apples edible again.

Mrs. Avfrya is a large woman like I have said, so her biggest problem is in the back where the material strains. They often need to be patched and I have to admit that this kind of repair is my least favorite kind of work to indulge in. With Mrs. Avfrya's panties, I never mind. With the smell of apples filling my senses, it's an honor to repair them. It's like fixing summer.

Yesterday she came by to pick up a pair she left with us. It was a bright green pair of panties with a blue flower pattern. I had to rebuild one flower petal by petal with my thread but I did it. I'm supposed to charge an hourly rate but for Mrs. Avfrya I always cut it by half. I do that because when I work on hers, I take my time soaking in her scent.

When I showed the fixed pair to her, her cheeks got so bright and happy. She leaned across the counter and hugged me so tight to her bountiful breasts. I happily allowed myself to be smothered as the scents of apples enclosed my face.

It took all I had not to open my mouth and lick that beautiful cleavage.

When she released me from her grip, my vision was swimming. Her hair seemed to light the air on fire. It might be November but I was sweating from the heat of essence. I wanted to dive back into her breasts and stay there.

"I have two more pairs for you," she said in that thick accent of hers. "Can they be done by Friday?"

I picked them up. One was pink like a sunset and the other was black lace. Both were torn across the back. The lace one was going to be trouble I could tell.

They both smelled of apples.

"Certainly," I told her. She didn't hug me, but her smile warmed me the rest of the day.

Time Flies When You're Being Sucked

2007-11-09T19:40:00.000-08:00

Wow, that was a longer break between posts than I was expecting. I really need to get better at this. I was planning to do a day by day journal but it got a little pointless fast. I mean, should I post every day that I went looking for marble but couldn't find any affordable?

What complicates things is that I haven't been looking every day. I come home from work and Ms. Nuit either leaves a note under my door, or like yesterday, she was in here waiting for me. I know I really need to be looking for materials for my sculpture but my god, I have never been sucked so completely like Ms. Nuit does.

When my cock is in her mouth, I feel like everything wrong with my day is being drained out of me.

When her fingernails cut into my balls, I feel like I am too precious to really harm.

When her hand pumps my cock, I feel like I am being primed for something better than I am.

When I climax down between her dark brown tits, I feel something valuable in me is being stored away.

Afterwards, when she leaves after refusing to let me tough her, I start masturbating. I pump my cock and picture all the things I want to do to her. I think about fucking her cunt that I have never seen. I think about biting her tits while she rides my cock. I think about holding her forbidden body and my second orgasm takes the rest of my strength out of me.

But on the days when she doesn't come by my apartment, I find it hard to leave. One time, she came by an hour after I had gotten home. She pushed me down to my couch and opened my pants. She took everything I had, sending my seed into those perfect tits. She hasn't ambushed me at home again, but she might.

She might.

So most days when I come home, I don't leave. How can I? How can I leave knowing she might arrive and I won't be here?

What if I am gone the day she decides that she wants my cock between her tits? Or between her thighs?

So I come home. Some nights I am sucked. Some nights I masturbate alone.

And I am no closer to buying the stone I need for my sculpture.

Hello

2007-10-31T07:40:00.000-07:00

I should have known things were going to be complicated when the manager of my apartment building sucked my cock. At the time I was just excited but looking back I guess I should have been concerned. I mean, Ms. Nuit is so beautiful and I had been staring at her large brown breasts the entire time we talked. When she pushed me up against the door in that bare apartment and unzipped my pants, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world.

I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Dwayne and I am a sculptor. Not a professional one or anything. I used to sculpt in college till I dropped out. I love making things out of solid stone. A solid block of stone looks so ugly and lifeless but once you start chipping away at it, you unlock what is trapped inside. People would say I was great at making beautiful things but I didn’t make anything. I just let it out.

So I haven’t sculpted since college and I finally got a job that pays enough for me to get my own place. Living by myself is attractive, but I felt like I should do something with all that extra freedom. I mean, having a fridge to myself is one thing, but having an entire living room to myself seems like an opportunity that shouldn’t be wasted.

I decided I wanted to get back to sculpting. In the past I made small things like cats or butterflies. This time I want to do something big. I want to do a life sized woman. I know I won’t be making a Medea de Milo but it will be mine. In fact, that’s why I am starting this blog so I can record my progress and maybe encourage myself to keep sculpting now that things have gotten a little complicated.

I’ve been in this apartment for a week and I haven’t even gone shopping for the stone yet. How sad is that? On the other hand, Ms Nuit has taken my come three times in those seven days. I don’t feel right complaining about that. Okay, maybe a little.

It started when I applied for an apartment here. I can’t exactly tell you which apartment it is but it is located in midtown Atlantica. The rent should have been extremely high but there was an advertisement in the paper that had a price range I could swing. It was so low, I thought for sure it had to be a mis print. I called and Ms Nuit assured me personally that the price was correct for those who qualified. I asked what the qualifications were and she said that she could explain better in person and arranged an appointment for me.

You know, that should have been my first warning.

I came to the apartments on a Sunday morning. The woman who waited on me smirked when I said I had an appointment but I thought it was because of my low quality clothes. I had worked the morning shift and my shirt was covered in strands of fabric. I looked poor. Hell, I felt poor and when she smirked at me, I thought for sure that there was no way I could afford to live here.

I forgot about that when I saw Ms. Nuit. She was so dark. Her skin was the color of rich coffee while her hair was the night. She wore a red blouse that squeezed together her breasts and offered them like desserts. I can’t remember if she was wearing pants or a skirt because all I could see were those delicious brown mountains. The only thing bright about her was her fingernails. They were painted white, flashing in the light like steel.

“You must be Dwayne,” she said. She offered me her hand and I took it.

“I am,” I said. “I have to say, Ms Nuit, as lovely as these apartments are, I hope I qualify.”

“We shall see,” she said. “But first let’s go to look at the apartment.”

We took the elevator. Up and up we went, climbing past floors filled with people who make more money than me. The elevator is so much smaller when you share it with a beautiful woman. She had a perfume that was almost spicy.

We reached the top floor. Ms. Nuit led me down a narrow hallway to my a dead end. She opened the door and the first thing I saw was the wide open living room space. It would make a perfect studio.

“Like it,” Ms Nuit asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“The higher floors are always the hardest to keep occupied,” she said. “The view of the city makes some people naseous. The wind is really strong when you are up this high. Also, the window cleaners work at night, and their footsteps wake up the lightest sleepers. It can be difficult to keep any tenants for long so I have certain allowances for making sure they stay filled.”

I walked around while Ms Nuit followed me. There was a kitchen, a single bedroom and a bathroom. The living room was large but it also doubled as a dining area. There was a deck but it was very small and the door handle was freezing to the touch. It was perfect.

“What kind of allowances?” I asked.

Ms Nuit pushed me up against the patio door. Her sharp nails cut through my shirt with the force of her push. I almost said something, but she was so close to me and I could see right down her dark cleavage. It was like staring into a mammary abyss and I was mesmerized.

“A pretty boy like you could easily afford a place like this,” Ms Nuit purred.

I felt my pants zipper being pulled down. Sharp nails reached into my boxers and pulled out my cock. I felt a momentary embarrassment at how hard I was.

“How?” I foolishly asked.

Ms Nuit dropped down to her knees. She pulled my pants down violently. My cock brushed against her cheek and I trembled.

That’s when she grabbed my balls with those harsh unforgiving nails. I cried out and my voice sounded so lonely in the abandoned apartment. Sharp nails enclosed my balls so tightly that if I moved even an inch, they would cut me. I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, I think you more than qualify,” she said. I tried to think of a response but that was when she took my cock into her mouth. All of my cock disappeared into her mouth where her hungry tongue was waiting. Her lips sealed around me, trapping my cock within her. I could feel her hot breath against my groin as she consumed me.

I moved my hands to her hair. I just wanted to touch that night black hair. As soon as I moved, she pulled me out of her mouth and her grip tightened on my balls. The nails bit without mercy.

“Hands by your side,” Ms Nuit commanded. “This is for your rent, not for your entertainment.”

I put my hands back on the cold door. The sting of the cold was forgotten as my cock was pulled back into the heat of Ms. Nuit’s warm mouth. Her tongue lashed at my cock, flicking and teasing all along my length. She tasted every ridge, every vein and every inch of my cock. I was hers to devour.

After an eternity in the furnace of her mouth, she pulled her mouth away. Her fingers replaced her lips and she jacked my cock with the same intensity. I was slick from all her spit and her hand glided so smoothly over my cock. Ms Nuit pumped my cock like she owned it, which I guess she did.

She didn’t stop using her mouth. My cock was aimed right at her lips. On occasion her tongue was dart out and take a lick of my cockhead. It always made me shiver, which just caused her nails to tighten around my balls. It also made her laugh.

I wish I had the sculpting skills to show what I saw during that handjob. Looking down, I saw Ms Nuit’s hand gripped around my cock, pointing at her lovely face and red lips. Below my cock stretched the canyon of her black breasts. Oh how I wanted to dive down into that forbidden softness.

“Oh,” I groaned, unable to contain myself any longer.

“Are you ready to come?” she asked.

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Then give me your first payment here,” she said. She pulled her lips away and pointed my cock downward towards her breasts. I groaned as she pulled my hard cock down but I kept my position despite the discomfort. I knew better than to move when I was so close to climaxing.

Ms Nuit made sure my cock was inches away from touching her breasts. She pointed me right at her cleavage. I looked down and could almost feel how soft and warm they would be around my cock. The entire time I was fantasizing, Ms Nuit was stroking my cock till I could take no more.

“Yes!” I cried. My orgasm made my knees shake. My come shot into her cleavage, disappearing into dark brown fissure. My seed went deep into where I may never go.

That’s pretty good for a first despot,” Ms Nuit said. She stood up and adjusted her jacket. I could only imagine how my come felt against her skin.

“So I have the place?” I asked.

“As long as you keep your payments up,” she said.

She has made sure of that so far. Three more time she has taken my come in the week that I have been here. She comes over when I get home from work. While I am tired and sore, she pushes me up against the wall. Her nails, lips and tits take from me until I shoot myself back into her lovely tits.

I’m never going to get any carving done at this rate.