- Nervous? – Wicked Wednesday #87
- Decisions? They Are Mine!
- The First Time Serafina Was Shared
- Balancing Pain And Pleasure
- I got a prayer with a girl . . .
- Hidden Problems
- Communicate and Educate
- Alone Together Again
- Energy Antennae
- “S” is for Safe Sex
- My Leather Family Comes Full Circle
- There Once Was a Chance I Didn’t Take
- Beyond Considering Sinnja
- Slippery Slopes and Trigger Warnings
- Jealousy – the Green Eyed Monster
- YKINMK – Your Kink Is Not My Kink (and that’s ok)
- Charlotte! (Rhymes with Harlot)
- What Do You Doubt?
- If Orange is the New Black Then Black is the New White
- Sending Smoke Signals
- The difficult truth!
For your reading pleasure, an original story from the lovely and talented Sinnja!
In adding Sinnja to my leather family, we not only found a wonderful sister submissive for Serafina, and delicious masochist for me to torment, (not to mention wonderful lover, friend, and all around kinky girl,) we also found another contributor for my blog!
Here’s this week’s response to the Wicked Wednesday prompt. We hope you enjoy!
Charlotte knew her flight was going to be a challenge as she smiled sweetly and approached the sexy trio before her holding a small tray of champagne. Looking down at each of the appetizing men dressed in signature suits and polished shoes, she fought to control the desire rising within. That brought her a moment of pause, hoping that her soft white lace panties would be enough to soak up the moisture beginning to seep.
Damien could not help but let his eyes wander over the young woman’s body, it truly was nature’s interpretation of perfection. Looking to his brothers, he knew they must have been thinking the same for they also looked at the flight attendant with the same primal and carnal desire in their eye.
Charles leaned back into his seat watching the girl make her way towards them. Catching his eye, her sexy long legs wrapped in white nylons, a navy blue skirt that shaped her hips perfectly, and short black hair cut to frame her pixie face. The white button down shirt she wore did nothing to hide the sexy bra holding her supple breasts. The highlight in his mind was the blush on her face as she realized he was staring right at her. Charlotte’s nipples hardened instantly under his gaze and wolfish grin.
Mason noticed his brothers hounding stares but he could not blame them, the nervous, little orchid that now stood before them trembling slightly and smelling like sweet ecstasy was truly a sight. Taking a moment to stare into her crystal blue eyes that spoke of innocence, he knew there must be wicked fantasies hiding in that pretty little head of hers. Lost in her eyes, all he could think was he wanted her, she would be his.
“Good evening gentlemen . . . I hope this champagne will sate your desire . . . for some refreshments.” Charlotte offered the drinks in a soft halting voice. She couldn’t help hearing how it was full of undertones of her untapped desire. Would the brothers notice so easily too?
“No thanks darlin” said Damien. Of the three, he is the tallest, with slightly curled, blond hair, chestnut brown eyes, and a voice with a soft southern accent. Around his neck lay a small dagger pendant with a single emerald crystal in the center.
“Nah, but thank ya sweet cheeks” announced Charles. The smaller of the three, he is a well built brunette, with a thick muscled body beneath a dark ash grey suit, and hunter green eyes that hold a predatory gleam. A similar pendant with a bold, blue sapphire lay around his neck, in between the crisp white lapels of his shirt, resting atop a patch of chest hair.
“Mmmhhh, sounds divine doll,” Mason drawled. Upon hearing his words, Charlotte turned toward the last brother, gazing into those honey, almost golden brown eyes, demanding her full attention. Mason is an average size man with long, raven colored hair, a chiseled face, and a well toned body. A man of erotic fantasies, like his brothers, he also wears a small pendant about his neck. A deep, ruby red jewel glistens in the center.
Lost for words, Charlotte squirmed, adjusting her posture. “Yes Sir,” was her shy, almost whispered reply.
Mason’s lips curl into a tantalizing smirk, making her blush grow in intensity.
“Here you are, Sir” she spoke softly as she leaned forward intending to place the drink upon the table. But just as she moved the plane experienced turbulence. Causing Charlotte to lose her footing, falling onto her knees, the glass escaping her hands. She watched in dismay as the flute fell and came to rest against the crotch of the gentleman’s slacks, soaking them with the intoxicating sweet drink.
Mason arched his brows in surprise, his gaze traveling between her and the now empty flute.
“Oh dear, I am so sorry!” she exclaimed. She began to turn and get a towel, but was brought to a halt by powerful fingers grabbing a handful of her hair, forcefully guiding her face to meet the spot where the glass now rested. Her heart racing as she was close enough to smell the sweetness of the champagne and the unmistakable musk of his desire.
“Well doll, do not let it stain!” growled Mason while adjusting his grip on her hair, forcing a low moan to escape from her cherry lips, which surprised the brothers.
Charlotte is hesitant, kneeling before him, the blush burning at her skin making her wonder if it would become permanent. Her hesitation was not due to the situation, but because of how her body was reacting to the demands being placed upon her . . . She could feel herself dripping with desire, beginning to dampen her nylons.
Just as she was about to open her lips to oppose, a hard smack lands against the curve of her ass. She gasps.
” What ya waiting for sweetness, get on with it” spoke Charles.
She knew though, that it was Damien who had landed the stinging blow. She wanted to look over her shoulder to confirm her assumption but found herself unable to as Mason kept her head in place. Swallowing her pride, Charlotte leans forward till her lips meet the soaked but soft fabric of Masons slacks.
She could feel Damien’s hand traveling over her nylon covered thighs up under her skirt. Mason adjusts himself in his seat, moving his hips forward, forcing her lips to part, giving her a taste of the sweet champagne . . .
~ ~ ~ ~
Charlotte’s eyes snap open, staring at the dull white ceiling fan of her bedroom, her hands resting against her thighs, her covers nowhere to be found. With a sigh she sits up, resting her face in the palm of her hands, getting her breathing back under control. She could feel the dampness beneath her, bed soaked from her arousal.
“Damn dreams,” she mutters as she turns her head, noting the empty bottle of champagne that lay on her night table. Then noticing a small white card beside the bottle with the name Mason, and a phone number.
“What? How? But, it was a dream!?!”