Erotica by Shannon

I smile as I take my rose-pink wand and anal ease from my drawer, wrap them in a towel, and put them in my overnight bag. All week I've been into masterbating anally and couldn't wait to share it with my lover man R.  We were kissing, me lying cozily curled up into the nook of his arm, his warm body cuddling me as though we've been together for many years—in fact, it's been about four—yet the way our bodies fit together is really amazing—he feels right.  Our kissing led to some naughty, dirty talk.  He said some things, I said some things.  My tank top came off.  And my undies.  I'll be right back. I say to leave to go pee.  While in the bathroom, I think of him in the bed waiting for me, him and his hard cock. I think of what I want, and I know.  Walking back to the bedroom, a small smile starts, and I open the door to see him looking over at me.  I'd like you to watch me. I say, slowly making my way over to my nightstand.  Taking my pi...

  Standing at his kitchen sink this morning , he wraps his arms around me and spins me around, looking into my sleepy green eyes with his content blue ones.  And says one phrase.  You can't make up the moist; it must mean I'm doing a good job... He pulls me in for a lingering, barely there kiss; his body and mine mesh together for a brief moment before the Tik-Tok You-Tube station begins looping in the background on the big-screen TV that his daughter is currently in charge of.  He's right; you can't make up the moist and wet that was there in my pussy, and yes, he did a very good job last night.  Our sex was close with dirty whispers of each other's deepest fantasies.  My legs wrapped around his hips.  Squeezing and pulling his body deeper into mine. His hips pumped.  We kissed and pulled each other's hair.  The moonlight silhouettes of us on the wall; him grabbing my ass.  Me tugging at his balls.  Our sounds of sex echoed in his...

  They went to Target to look for his pants.  Along the way, she noticed his subtle eyebrow raise at the pink thong on the mannequin they passed.  She stopped to find her size - XS. He helped with an underlying impatient eagerness that only she knew and sensed. During checkout, as the woman put his pants and her pink thong in the bag, she blushed as naughty visions of them later that night crossed her mind. He caught her gaze with his, silently letting her know he was on the same page with the pink thong by slightly shifting himself before they left the store. 

She walked through the doors of a new herb store she'd never been to and was greeted upon entry by a friendly - and handsome - man working behind the counter a few feet away.  His easy-going smile immediately welcomed her.  As she approached the counter, she not-so-obviously eyed him up and down, appreciating how well-built and groomed his body and dress were—this handsome man became even more so with each step toward him—it was noticeable how much effort he put into himself. The woodsy scent he wore made its way to her nose, catching her off guard momentarily.  Instantly drawn into flashbacks of many sensual and naughty memories of steamy nights with her previous lover,  s he closed her eyes and breathed him in without realizing what she was doing .  She smiled and couldn't help but blush when she opened and lifted her eyes to see the handsome man behind the counter, curiously watching her, his smile growing.

  He got in my car.  I turned to look at him.  His eyes were a deep shade of blue that I quickly recognized.  Complete satisfaction.  That is what his eyes said.  Two nights before, we'd had amazing car sex.  I watched his taillights for as long as I could when we parted, hitting my pillow fulfilled.  His gaze now pierced through me, and without needing to ask, he knew I felt the same. He grinned; I blushed and smiled, looking down, doing my best to hide the obvious, which wasn't working.  Do you like what we did? he quietly asked, reaching around my neck to play with the short hair at the nape.  Yes . I said, slowly raising my eyes.   I licked my lips, moving my position slightly.   He watched, firming his grip on my neck.  What did you like? He again quietly asked, though this time his question had a bit more insistence.  I licked my lips again, thinking to myself, he's aroused, and so am I.  Maintaini...

It was a night after I'd seen bodywork clients; driving to R's, I began to wind down and, lighting a joint, listened to Sade on the way there. Her music always got me thinking about car sex with R; we'd had car sex the night before, and images, sounds, and tastes were fresh in my mind.  I pulled into his long gravel driveway and rolled the windows down, getting a whiff of the farm smells I loved. Gathering my things, I stood outside and looked up, taking in the crisp air for a moment longer, fully letting go of my day. My eyes wandered into the ink-blue sky, and m y mind slowed to meet the super chill pace I felt right there in the driveway, which I knew was because he'd been caring for his fort and family all day- something very satisfying for him.   I've arrived, is the thought that floated through my mind as I walked through the garage and into a fantastic garlic-scented, warm, wood-stove-heated basement and house. It was an incredible feeling to walk into the ho...

  It's 5:24 a.m.  I've been up since before midnight yesterday.  This morning, my mind was in many places, one of which inspired me to write about  R and me spending time together this past weekend.  I crave his touch.  Think of butter melting softly.  It doesn't matter right away if sex will be involved; all I want is his touch, his hands.  His hands and how they move, intuitively knowing where and how long to touch, linger, or tease, bring me back into my body. His hands—touch—allow me to get out of my head.   Because once I'm out of my head, amazing orgasms show up. He lifts the bedcovers and beckons me under.  I quickly slide into the comfortable nook he creates with his body, fitting perfectly into his torso; my white lace-covered bum grazes his bush as I nestle in.    He groans with pleasure.  I've been waiting all week for precisely this moment , he says, nuzzling himself closer.  I tuck myself into him more in...

Do you know that scene in Dirty Dancing where Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze make exquisite love on a rainy afternoon? That's where my mind is right now, except I'm Shannon, and my lover is R. I imagine him and me kissing lazily in his cloud-like king-size bed, with a Sade album softly playing in the background. There's no time, nor is there any rush to go anywhere or do anything. I love how he feels lying on me; his cock gently pushes against my inner thigh, signifying its need. His firm muscles make my hands wander and grab across his back and ass as we kiss- deeper now as our intensity slowly builds. I love this kind of foreplay with R and me. It's foreplay I like to call 'listen to your senses' because we generally don't say much – we feel everything playing out, have intense eye contact at times, and speak to each other through the way we kiss and press our bodies together. Without words, our wants, needs, and desires are met. And the rain makes me wa...

  He read my mind as we stood there in his kitchen, hugging and rubbing on each other. The rain fell heavy outside, and being in his arms felt good. My mind kept thinking, "No agenda today," and as I thought it, he whispered in my ear, "Let’s go up to my nest." I slipped under the cloud-like covers, and he wrapped me into his embrace, my ass nestled perfectly into the crook of his hips and his face buried in my neck. I could feel his hard-on, and my pussy was wet. Yet sex wasn’t on the menu – classically, anyway. It was a rainy Saturday, and we both knew what we wanted and needed to be satisfied. He pressed his cock against me and squeezed my body tighter to him, me snuggling in closer. I knew the signal. I turned over onto my stomach and spat on my fingers. He propped up on his pillow and reached for the oil. We looked at each other briefly with sensuous grins before he started to stroke himself, and I lay down flat and slid my saliva-drenched fingers down to pull ...

I enjoyed experiencing something amazing a few days ago with R. He brought me to an orgasm that usually occurs when I’m alone. It was the orgasm you have when you’re alone, yet you aren’t alone. He walked across his property, moving the heavy fence to the middle pasture, and waited for me to catch up. I could feel his energy as he slipped his hand into mine – a slow, easy Sunday morning kind of energy with no rush to be anywhere or do anything. He glanced at me, and I recognized a hint of devilish excitement in his dark blue eyes as he murmured,  gun shack? My excitement over the possibilities of what was about to happen in the gun shack grew as we made our way through the field of Bluestem, and I playfully swirled my fingers along the inside of his palm to give him a glimpse of where I was. He tightened his grip ever so slightly in response and, holding in as best he could his lust, slowly picked up the pace toward his handbuilt tin-roofed cozy man cave. Once inside and free from ...

  Met with kiss and lust, Seek deep and true near your heart; shy to tell pure like.

An Ode to What’s in the Bottom Drawer My fingers poised to type. I feel a warm tingle run up between my thighs that soon pulse with heat underneath my soft cotton panties. The mere thought of the bottom drawer of my nightstand beckons me to open it. Yet, I must first complete this writing task; otherwise, the reward will be less fantastic. I almost feel her cold, smooth, polished surface against my skin. I lick my lips in anticipation. My patience is waning, and my lustful need is pushing through. I imagine her elongated sleekness on my stomach and how solid she’ll feel inside me. What’s in the bottom drawer has been with me for some time. She’s often brought me ecstatic sensations of pleasure, this time being no exception. I must listen to the pulse between my legs where orgasm awaits. As I stop typing, what’s in the bottom drawer wins over any rational thought again.

Here are some recent naughty thoughts that crossed through my daydreams today. I drive slowly and cautiously because the rain is pouring and my visibility is low, but I keep going. The car in front of me slows to a stop due to a traffic jam ahead. I opened myself up to daydream a bit; I could see I’d be there for a time. As my mind wanders and what’s in the back slithers to the front, a not-so-long-ago memory of a similar thunderstorm with R outdoors begins to make every detail shown to me in crisp inner vision. A bolt of lightning strikes ahead, causing a pleasant sensation to run up my thighs as I enter deeper into the outdoor adventure R and I experienced. I held the tree with both hands, naked and with charcoal stripes down the front of my body. The fire had gone out, and he painted me with warm black pieces while looking at me intensely the entire time before spinning me around and placing my hands on the tree. He pressed himself against me; his hands roamed everywhere, and mosqui...

  Last Sunday, I played out a bedroom fantasy of blindfolding R.S. with me wearing a navy blue lace bra and panty set. It’s been on my mind for a while. It might not seem like much to the advanced BDSM player, yet, it was something for me that sparked an entirely new and expanded look into R.S.’s mind, and I’ve come to recognize more in-depth that it’s not just about his cock. I knew this already – the fact that for R.S. (and me), it’s about the build-up, the sexy foreplay, the anticipation of what’s to come, the flirtatious back-and-forth conversation that leads up to the act of phenomenal like-no-other sex. Yet it was during this sexual fantasy that I had a huge AHA moment about how deep R.S.’s needs, wants, and desires went. It struck me that the blindfolded man on his bed craved a woman who could match, inspire, and bring him to new experiences on all levels -sexually, mentally, emotionally, and intimately. His cock is the bonus, not the focus. I mean, yes, his cock is to be th...

  Last week -Saturday to be exact – R.S. went dirtbike riding—his first long ride of the year -around forty miles or so. I know how he gets after a long ride. His energy is 100%, his body is taut, and his cock is ultra-hard. The thought of him on his bike, dirty, sweaty, and all-man, always makes me horny, and when he returned from his ride, I had plans to use all that built-up energy to my advantage. I was ready for a ride of my own. I guess you could say I was a tad selfish -yet leaving an opportunity on the table isn’t my style. To make things even better, instead of taking my car – we jumped in his F-150, which got my sexy thoughts going around and around -my plans shifted pleasantly in my head, and I couldn’t wait for him to park somewhere so I could ravage him in an un-ladylike manner. He found a wooded spot somewhere -honestly, I wasn’t paying attention to where we were; all I wanted was his cock in my mouth.  Lust covered my vision, and as he sat in his comfortable dri...

  He rode his dirt bike here for years, passing the same rock every time and paying it no attention. Today was different . A few miles from the rock, his mind began to spin, and his cock began to pulse, thinking about the activities that took place a week ago at the rock with S.L. It was primal; the first time she told me to mount her , he thought as he hung a far-left line to avoid a rocky area. Visions of that day filled his mind. Her light, smooth skin was even more tantalizing in the sunlight. The way she moved was so naturally out in the open air. Her mischievous eyes gave way to a playful smirk. He was not knowing the whirring of her mind and getting hornier by the minute. Rounding the bend, he could see the edge of the small clearing where they were and slowed his speed before stopping in front of the rock. Lighting a joint, he savored the moment. Mount me,  she said, looking at him with pure lust as she climbed the rock on all fours. It was all he could do to show cont...