blood lust: transformation


, , , , ,

Continued from blood lust: beginnings.

Celeste gains consciousness. No telling how much time had passed. Her head muzzy and vision unfocused. What she was aware of was the distinct metallic taste in her mouth and her body being pushed rhythmically. Weak, she feels as though death was at her doorstep. No, it was. Her memory begins to flood back into her mind. Her eyes look up at the skies above her, the constellations blinking, moving in and out of focus with each thrust. Thrust? She gasps, letting the oxygen fill her lungs once more, gulping the air giving her her life back.

Each thrust from above expels the air from her lungs, causing her to inhale more deeply. She coughs and chokes on the cold oxygen. Things become more in focus and Celeste becomes cognizant that he is still there, above her, literally fucking her back into life. He who took it, was suddenly giving it back to her.

“Drink,” he moans as he thrusts his dripping wrist towards her mouth. The blood feels hot as it coats her lips. Instinctively, her hands grab his wrist and pulls it towards her. Her mouths opens and her tongue flicks the open wound, tasting him. She closes her lips around him and begins to suck, gently at first. He moans and thrusts harder into her.

Suddenly, her mouth is awash with the taste of lust. His blood stains her tongue. Julius, the name echoes through her mind. Visions of history flash through it. Paris, Rome, Madrid, London, New Orleans, these cities flood her in brilliant colors. The story of him surges through her veins, every lover, every victim, their blood racing into her being.

“Julius,” she whispers, as the blood washes over her lips. She licks his wrist, delighting in the feel of the warm blood against her lips. He moans, thrusting deeper and harder within her.

Celeste becomes enrapt in their fuck. The blood, its metallic taste, becoming sweeter and sweeter. She tastes his lust, his lust for her. Tighter she holds him against her, sucking him deeply. Feeling, no, seeing his cock moving in and out of her. The blood on her tongue a canvas, quickly filling with the images of their sex. She draws him in deeper, willing him to completely envelope her being.

She cries out in sudden pain, gripping her chest with her hand. Her heart beats a thousand lives at once. Her breathing shudders in sharp gasps. Julius grabs her from their bed on the earth, wrapping her within his arms, holding her against him. Impaled on his cock, she sits upright, her hands digging into his back, her legs wrapped around him. He can feel her heart pounding hard and fast against his chest. Her breath hisses between her clenched teeth as she tries to breathe. Celeste looks over his shoulder, her flushed cheek against his cold ear.

“Shh,” Julius tells her. “It will all be over soon.”

“Am…. I… dying?” Celeste can barely get the words out.

“Yes,” he answers. “Your mortal life is fading. Accept it, let the pain take you. It will pass.”

Celeste holds onto him tightly. Her heart races within her chest, pounding against her rib cage. It’s impossible to breathe. She feels his cock within her, each gasp of air tightens her muscles around him. The pain continues to build until suddenly, her heart begins to quiet and slow. She feels her body slowly begin to fade once more. Her lungs make one last desperate attempt to breathe the oxygen she so desperately needs. The world grows black. Her being, suspended in time. 1… 2… 3.. Her eyes fly open and she gasps, filling her lungs with the night air. Only, everything is different. She doesn’t need the oxygen to breathe, but instead the oxygen bathes her senses with the many scents of the world around her. In the far distance, a deer bleeds out, prey to a wolf. Within a mile, a woman walks, her rose perfume wafting into Celeste’s nostrils. The smell of a dozen meals, finding her from the nearest apartments.

“Look,” Julius urges. “Open your new vampire eyes and look at the world as you will now see it. See your purpose.”

Celeste opens her eyes, the forest alight with so many different colors. It is no longer dark with the colors of blue and black. The moon shines brightly upon them, a spotlight illuminating their congress. She sees the dark red of their dried blood. She sees every little detail down to the smallest drop of dew forming on the pine needles above them. The needles themselves a spread of greens.

Celeste becomes aware of Julius inside her. His cock, hard as stone, powerful. She grinds her hips against him, feeling a surge of lust swell within her body. She hungers. She hungers for him, for his blood. She bounces on his erection, her nipples brushing against his chiseled body from underneath the confines of her blouse. Vampires really feel like cold and hardened statues, she thinks to herself. She feels the pleasure building within her. The need for blood surges forward. She growls, digging her fingers into the flesh of Julius’ shoulders, before following what comes naturally. Her teeth pierce his neck, drinking in his blood. Her orgasm immediately swells within her, as his lust bathes her tongue. Visions of their sex fill her mind. The pleasure consumes her.

Julius breaks their blood union, pushing her back into the soil, her hands clawing at him in desperation. He tears her blouse open, her nipples exposed and pert to the night air. Thrusting deeper, harder inside her, his mouth covers her breast, licking the nipple gently. Celeste gasps at the cusp of orgasm.

Julius moves his mouth at the base of her neck waiting for the certainty of her approaching orgasm before plunging his teeth into her flesh, the warmth of her blood flooding his mouth and with it, her lust. Thrusting harder into her, her blood tells him all he needs to know. Celeste orgasms and her muscles clench tightly around his erection. Her blood carries the essence of her pleasure and his mind erupts. Time stands still. Shards of light blind him. Her pleasure becomes his own. He can taste her orgasm. He can feel her orgasm. He can see her orgasm. The true beauty of a woman’s orgasm washing over him once more. A euphoric dance of a million butterflies taking flight all at once, colliding in the air, entangled. Her body trembles beneath him and the colors and lights begin to fade.

Julius finds his moment and thrusts deeper, urging his own orgasm forward. Celeste moans beneath him, her orgasm leaving her hazy. “Drink”, he commands her. “Drink from me and really live”.

Celeste reaches up, arching her back, her nipples caressing his chest as she bites deep into his neck. She sucks his blood into her mouth. Her senses become assaulted by his lust. She groans against his flesh. His blood surges forward as his body pounds into hers. She feels his orgasm swell inside her, both body and mind. An intense sensation of needing a release overtakes her. She sucks on him harder, holding him tighter, her need building alongside his.

An explosion takes her by surprise. Her body nearly thrown back by his. His blood tastes of a thousand things at once. Her mind fills with visions, stimulated in explosions of red. Dark, light, shimmering, reds all speaking to her. She can hear his orgasm. His blood speaks the word lust on her tongue. She can see his body swell with tension and release himself inside her. Hundreds of years spill forth from his body and fill hers. Hundreds of years of tension, released all at once. Her mouth falls from his neck as she falls back into the leaves below her, heaving with breath, assaulted by the scents around her. The world spinning, she the center of a whirlwind of desire.

Time ticks away before Celeste can move again, Julius lying at her side. She sits up with a start, causing Julius to sit up with her, a questioning look on his face. Celeste breathes deeply, closing her eyes, a soft moan escapes her lips.

“I’m hungry,” she opens her eyes, now a soft amber instead of the dark brown they once were.

“And so it begins,” Julius chuckles, while standing and offering her his hand. Celeste looks at him quizzically. “The blood lust,” he answers. “The blood lust within you begins. I have much to teach you. The hunger will try to control you. The lust will drive your hunger in different ways.”

“Like tonight?”

“Like tonight,” he grins, reflecting on the unexpected events of the evening. So, he has a new “child” under his care. A new lover within his grasp. A new purpose within his own life.

“And I have purpose in my life once more,” Celeste answers his thoughts, their blood bond beginning to show itself.

Celeste takes his hand and stands beside him, her clothes completely tattered. Julius, eyeing her within the brightness of the moonlight. Her curves dancing within the light, illuminated almost as if by a hundred candles. He feels his blood lust swell by erection.

“Let’s take care of getting you some clothes,” he says in distraction. He closes his eyes, smelling, listening for their prey, a couple, walking along the lower forest road. It won’t be long before they are close. “Come,” he pulls her with him. “Dinner awaits.”

The two make their way silently through the forest, each with a new purpose, but for now, it’s the blood lust that seduces them.

To be continued … ? 

© Secret Desire

blood lust: beginnings


, , , ,

It was just another night. Another night when the depression hit so hard, Celeste took to the night air. Sometimes, a long walk outdoors was just what she needed to get her head back into the right frame of mind. It didn’t seem to be working.

The attack came swiftly, quietly. Hand at her mouth while two small daggers pierced the flesh of her neck. Before she could even scream into the cold flesh against her mouth, his thumb and index finger began slowly pinching her nose, while his palm pressed into her, suffocating her. She became aware of the heat of her, slowly leaving her body and entering his. She concentrated on the soft, suckling sounds as he drank from her. Oddly, she found comfort in the sound of it. Instead of panicking for her final breaths of life, she closed her eyes, at peace with the end of it all.

Flashes of the life she once had, the one that made her happy, spilled from her mind and bled into his. Visions of green grass, past loves, incredible sex, summer days, snow covered forests, painted her assailants tongue. He tasted her. Tasted her very life. Tasted the joys she once had, slowly feeling her heart slow, until suddenly, her blood no longer tasted of that sweet metallic flavor, but of pure, bitter disgust. She wanted to die.

His fingers released her nose and her nostrils flared as the life came rushing back into it. Pure oxygen hitting her brain, making her dizzy, making her moan against his hand. He withdrew his teeth from her neck, steadying her within his arms as he began to drag her further off the beaten path and deeper into the thick of the forest. He laid her down gently. Above her, the moon shone brightly, a circular bulb of light fanned by the tops of the evergreens. The constellations blinked in and out of existence as the wind blew through the forest.

Celeste brought her hand to her neck, feeling the warmth of her slowly spill from her body. She looked at it. In the darkness, her blood was nothing more than a black smear across her fingers and palm. Below her, her assailant lifted her skirt and she did not fight him. His masculine hands, ice cold, spread her thighs and she moaned, willing him to complete what he had started. He leaned over and ripped her hosiery with his teeth before sinking into the ample flesh of her inner thigh. She gasped, feeling her life jet into his mouth.

Celeste, her name painted his tongue. He opened his mouth wider, letting the artery he severed do the work for him. Her life washed over his tongue, tasting her despair, tasting how she felt there was nothing more of her to give.

He broke away, placing a hand at her thigh, the coldness of his flesh applying pressure, almost foolishly believing he could stop the bleeding altogether. “Your life has no meaning to you, does it Celeste?”

“How did you…?” she stopped herself from asking. He knew her name. He knew she felt as cold and dark as the forest around her. There was no light left in her. There was no foolish aspirations of being more than what she was in this life. She was a lonely soul in an inspiring world that held absolutely no inspiration for her anymore. Not since she lost everything that she once lived for. There was no place for her here. Life had lost all meaning long ago.

His mouth covered her thigh once more, piercing the flesh deeper with his vampiric fangs. She bathed his tongue with her life, her blood telling the story of years gone by in flashes of images. Beneath him, Celeste began to twitch, her hands digging into the earth, feeling the fallen pine needless poking the tender skin of her palm. A strange sensation overcame her. She began to feel her pulse throbbing between her thighs. Her assailant groaned.

Celeste gasped as she realized it was not her pulse, but her clit throbbing. The more her blood flowed from her body, the more it throbbed in arousal. How could this be? She felt his mouth latch onto her even harder. She felt the pull of her flesh as he drank her in. His tongue lapped at her inner thigh, it felt cold against her skin as she knew it was washed by the pulsing of her blood. Each arterial pulse was matched by the throb of her clit.

Confused, she moaned loudly, letting her arousal flow through her body and into his. The more his mouth pulled at her flesh, the more she wanted to be part of him. Her blood, now bathed in her lust, began to heighten his own lust. He felt a swell of arousal within him and his cock grew hard. This is where it begins. This is where the blood lust takes its turn.

The flow of blood began to lessen. Even as Celeste felt her arousal come dangerously close to the edge, she knew it was coming to an end. The pulsing within her body began to grow weak. Life was starting to slip away from her. Her ears began to ring, as the sounds of the surrounding forest slowly faded away. The night sky blinked in and out of focus as she looked up, wondering if somehow, she would float away to the heavens soon enough. The sound of him suckling on her thigh, filled her ears once more and she found comfort in it as her life drained out of her and gave him, his. The suckling tug on her inner thigh grew softer and softer, until it was no more.

The night air, blew cold against her wet thigh as he moved above her. His body gave little warmth, as it covered her own, being almost as chilled as the breeze around them. She was fading, fading out of existence and she was not alone as she had imagined she would be. Her body lurched forward as she felt him push against her. Something cold and hard filled her body, it stretched her muscles, slicked by her own blood.

Deeper, deeper into the darkness she drifted, her body pressed into the earth. His body pressed into her own. The last of her life spilling from her veins. The darkness takes her, the constellations beckon.

to be continued …

© Secret Desire

a first spanking



“What are you reading?” The question startles Megan and she nearly drops the tablet onto her lap. “Must be very good, then,” her partner, Greg concludes.

“Erotica,” she tries to act casual. “And yes, it’s very good.”

Greg raises an eyebrow. “So, lots of sex?”

“Actually, no.” Megan looks into his eyes, her own sparked with desire. “This one is all about spanking.”

Greg smirks a bit, but there is no mistaking the twitch within his trousers. “And is this spanking something you enjoy reading?” Megan looks down at her tablet, unable to continue looking at him. “Tell me, Megan.” He moves closer to the bed.

“Yes, Greg,” she replies softly. “I very much enjoy reading it.”

“Do you think you’d like to have a spanking?” Greg implores.

“Only one way to find out!” Megan answers coyly. Greg beckons her closer, eager to lay his hand on her. “One rule, Greg. If at any  moment I say the word ‘red’, you must stop right there and then. It means I can’t take anymore.”

“You mean, it’s not an indication you want me to make your ass bright red?” Greg teasingly lets his fingers caress her neck.

Megan swats his hand away and playfully slaps him on the arm. “I’m serious Greg, if I say ‘red’ you must stop.”

Greg backs away his hands in the air in playful defense, “OK ok, I hear you loud and clear, Megan, ‘red’ means stop. Now get over here so I can spank you.”

Megan pushes the covers off of the bed and removes the camisole. To Greg’s delight, she keeps the light cotton panties on for him to remove himself. She gets on all fours, steadying herself.

“Is that how the spanking happened in the story?” Greg asks.

“No,” Megan answers. “It’s how I want it to happen.”

Greg mouths the word “oh” and moves closer to Megan. He reaches over and grabs hold of the fabric of her panties. Megan inhales sharply as she feels his fingers curl into the fabric and then slowly, so very slowly, pulls them down the plump curve of her ass and down her thighs. She exhales deeply, moaning in contentment. Greg feels a more demanding throbbing within his trousers as he looks at Megan’s bare ass.

“Are you ready?” he asks her.

“Yes,” she replies and arches her back, pushing her buttocks further, the lips of her pussy beginning to swell.

The first smack lands firmly on her right cheek. It stings a little, but not to her satisfaction. “More,” she breathes.

The first smack is followed by a second, third and fourth. “No,” she looks over her shoulder with wanton eyes. “Harder,” she demands.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Greg, with a twinkle in his eye, looks deep into Megan’s soft pools of blue and spanks her even harder. Her body lunges forward as she grunts and bites her lower lip. She continues to look at him, nodding.

The next series of spanks come down hard on Megan’s backside. Her whole body lunges with each swing of his hand. She can feel the warmth building on her flesh, accompanied by soft, stinging, pin prickles. She loves it. She loves the feeling of Greg’s hand on her flesh, creating such an orchestra of emotions and sensations. She looks at him, holding his gaze as his hand brings down sting after sting. Emotions swell up inside her. She has never loved him so much. Or was this lust bubbling inside her? Was this pure animal lust building its fire within her with each strike of her lover’s hand?

Lost within her own lust, Megan becomes aware of how much her buttocks now stings. “Wait,” she speaks. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“Are you sure,” Greg asks smartly. “Because I don’t recall you saying ‘red’.”

Megan looks back at him, the fire in her eyes. “You’re right, I didn’t. One more, Greg. Spank me as hard as you can and we’ll stop there.”

Greg nods with a huge smile on his face. His hand comes down hard on Megan’s ass, giving it everything he has. She yelps loudly in response. He lets his hand hold and rest on her backside, feeling the heat of him and her combined. His hand throbbing from the spankings and loving it. Within his trousers, his erection is hard. “Was that enough, or are you hungry for more?”

“As far as spankings are concerned,” Megan replies. “I am quite sated. But now I’m hungry for much more.” She looks at Greg’s erection, pushing against the fabric of his trousers and moans. “Now come over here and fuck me.”

It didn’t take long for Greg to get undressed and press his cock against Megan’s wet cunt. What surprised him most was feeling how wet the spanking made her and how easily his erection slid inside. He thrust deep and hard within her, filling her with his own passion. She, delighting in the feel of his hand as it stung her backside when he grabbed onto her plump flesh. She decided right then and there that there would be a lot more spankings in her future.

© Secret Desire

picture to words 4


, , ,

*** this is what I like to call “picture to words”. I find an erotic image on the net and it inspires me to write an erotica piece ***



Even though he worked from home, Sharon’s husband was always working. He locked himself away in his office and she was often left to her own devices. She didn’t mind on most days, but found it ridiculous on the weekends. She often wondered if Clark was married to her, or his job.

On this particular Sunday, Sharon had had enough. Sunday was a day for rest and relaxation and quite frankly, Clark was neglecting her! So much so, that she has had to take matters into her own hands one too many times for her liking. As she lazily ran her fingers over her wet slit, Sharon decided it was time to get Clark’s attention. She straightened her floral print dress, left her panties on the floor, and walked into the kitchen. It was still early enough in the day, and Clark most likely had finished his first cup of coffee, so she went ahead and poured him another.

She walked down the hall to his office door and gave it a gentle tap before she opened the door and entered. Clark was busy typing away at his computer and perusing one of the many reports on his desk. Sharon walked over and placed the fresh cup of coffee down. Her husband did not move from his work. She cleared her throat. Still, his typing echoed in the room.

“Clark,” she begged his attention.

“Oh! Hmmm… what?” Clark responded absentmindedly.

“I brought you some more coffee,” she continued.

“Oh. Right, right. Just set it over there,” his eyes never moved from the screen.

Sharon sighed deeply. “Clark?”

“Yes, dear?” He flipped through a few pages of a report, tapping his pen on the table.

“I brought you something else,” she replied while lifting the hem of her dress so far up, her perfectly smooth pussy became exposed to his viewing. She could see its reflection in the glass desk top.

Just when she thought she might have to put her fist down on the table, Clark managed to put his reports aside on the desk and turn to look at her. “And what is thaaaa?” He was unable to finish his sentence as he saw what was in front of him.

“Do I have your attention now, Clark?”

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, mesmerized by the glint of the ring he gave her when they first started dating all those years ago and how it stood out agasint the luscious triangle of skin between her thighs.

“Good,” she said, as she made her way around the desk and to her husband. Clark rolled his chair away from the desk and Sharon lifted her dress and allowed her naked buttocks to sit on the glass. She spread her legs wide, resting a foot on each arm of the chair. Clark had a nice view of her plump lips, glistening with need. “You’ve been neglecting me, Clark.”

“Yes, yes I have,” he admitted as he felt his erection begin to grow.

“Fix it,” Sharon demanded. Clark felt his arousal burn, never having seen this side of his wife before.

Clark slipped down on his knees before Sharon’s spread thighs. She kept her feet on the chair, spreading her legs wider and giving him full access. His hands were at her hips immediately, digging into the soft flesh, as he pulled her into him. His mouth covered her pussy. She felt the warmth of his tongue as it danced circles around her clit and lapped hungrily at her slit. Her moans came quickly. She didn’t hold back her lust for him, not this time. Her hand went to his head and she grabbed a fistful of his hair as she pressed him even harder against her. Her hips began to grind into his face.

“Oh, Clark!” She gasped. He slid two fingers inside her and began stroking her gspot. “Oh, don’t stop!” She begged.

He wasn’t going to stop. Nothing was going to stop him from making his wife come right there on his desk. He continued to devour her as his fingers thrust inside her. Her moans began to climb and her muscles began to clench. He knew she was close. He wanted her to come for him. He wanted to feel her spasm around his fingers. He thrust even harder into her and a new sensation over came Sharon that pushed her right over the edge.

Suddenly, a guttural scream ripped from her body, as it began to tremble. Clark felt her muscles spasm hard around his fingers, but to his surprise, a small flow of liquid began running down his fingers and tongue. He lapped this up, enjoying the taste of her orgasm. It coated his chin as well.

Sharon’s thighs were still trembling as she let her legs drop and Clark sat back in his chair in front of her. He scooted closer to her and she leaned into him, kissing him deeply and tasting her on his lips.

“Wow, that was amazing,” she purred. “I don’t think I ever felt anything like that before.”

“No,” Clark smiled as he wiped his chin. “I don’t think you have either and I can’t wait to make you feel that again.”

Sharon smiled and leaned in to kiss her husband again. She let her hand wander down and felt his erection through the fabric of his trousers. “Shall we see about making you feel good now?” She cooed.

There was no getting around it, that glass desk top was smeared with their lust and Clark had some lovely memories to relive on Monday morning as he cleaned things up and put things back in order for the new work week.

© Secret Desires

Want to visit some older “Picture to Words” entries? See them here. 



Ten months ago today (wow, what a coincidence it’s exactly 10 months ago), I made the decision to go ahead and stop writing here. I had this idea that it would be best to just put all of my writing over At Longings End. In the past, this space was for all of my erotica writing. At Longings End was always for all the real life stuff, sexy and not so sexy. I thought that maybe it was a little too much to have two separate sites, especially since I spend so much time writing over there anyway. However, it just feels like this place is home to my erotica. It is where everything started after all. It was this place that put me in contact with my now husband. It seems like such a shame to let it just sit here at a stand still, my archives collecting dust.

So, I’m reopening the site. My erotica writing mojo is no where to be found. I’ve been so uninspired lately, but I’m hoping that by dusting off the archives, and deciding I will write my erotica here again, inspiration will hit me. In fact, I’m going to give it a go after I publish this post.

© Secret Desire

changing spaces


Hello my wonderful readers….

I have always tossed around the idea of merging my two blogs into one. Didn’t know I had two? Let me explain. As you know, this is my home for all my erotica. What you may not know, is I have a second home At Longings End. This is the blog I share with my husband. There, I write about real life stuff. I write about our open marriage, life and what ever opinions or thoughts come to mind. Oh and there are always pics there too! You’ve been missing out on some nude Mina if you didn’t know about At Longings End! 

This place however, has always been dedicated just for my erotica. Well, I think it’s time to make a change and simplify things. Instead of merging the blogs, this one will stay as is. It will not be deleted. However, please note that I will no longer be posting new material here. I have made the decision to just start posting everything At Longings End. 

Please, follow me over to At Longings End if you wish to continue reading my erotica. If not, thank you for being a reader while you were here. 

xo mina 

© Secret Desire

#WankWednesday – echo


, , ,


It’s in the stillness of the night, when the sky is clear and the moon illuminates the bedroom and the house is empty, that I truly enjoy the indulgences of my flesh. I like to strip myself of clothing, letting each article gather in a puddle at my feet. The sheets are cold and crisp as I slide into the bed. I physically shiver from the sudden coolness.

I trail my fingertips along my sides and my mind flashes to you. Flashes to the many times your hands ran up them. Your strong, masculine hands, causing an involuntary shudder and I keep myself from giggling. I do the same now, smiling as I let my fingertips glide over that spot that makes my tummy tighten.

My hands slide over my tummy, feeling the soft flesh. I can still feel your kisses, soft butterfly kisses that turn into sharp bites. My breathing labors as I think about the lashes my tummy endured from your whip. My mind runs in circles and I can feel the stings of the whips and crops as if it were yesterday.

I let my hands drift higher still and grasp my ample breasts. The very breasts that drove you crazy. I pinch and squeeze my nipples and my clit hardens in response. I think of the time they were clamped, cold metal squeezing my precious flesh. I like the feel of my breasts in my own hands. No wonder men go crazy for them. They are large yet firm. My memory flashes to a time when they were black, blue and welted. Marked by the precision of your blows. I spent days admiring the marks, changing colors as time escapes me.

My right hand slides up my neck. Visions of rope around it, tightening my throat and cutting off the very air I breathe, take over. Farther up my hand slides, until I take two fingers into my mouth and suck on them gently, letting my saliva bathe them. I think of your cock between these very lips. How I loved sucking your cock. Taking in the throbbing head and giving you the ultimate pleasure. I loved just hearing you, moan, gasp and curse. I moan into my fingers and let them drift down my body, my legs spreading wide.

Slowly I circle the hardened bud above my folds. The pleasure is like electricity coursing through my body. I dip my fingers into my aching cunt and I moan as I imagine feeling you between my thighs. I can feel your cock, sliding into my wet folds. Your cock thrusting hard into me, forcing the air out of my lungs. My breathing now becoming rapid as my fingers fuck my insides. Again I circle my clit and the pleasure continues to build. I’m wet for you. I ache for you. Even in my time of indulgence, it’s you I crave.

Harder and faster I rub my clit. My left hand grabs my breast and squeezes it hard. I yelp and bite the flesh of my arm. I want to feel you. I want to taste you. I want to fuck you. My orgasm explodes and my body shudders. I convulse and curse as each wave hits me. I can feel the rapid, powerful contractions of my inner muscles while I orgasm.

Panting, I slowly come back from my euphoric state. I roll over onto my side and gather the sheets around me for warmth and security. You may wonder what it is that I think about in the silence of the night. What is it that makes me need to reach between my thighs and pleasure myself? It’s not the vision of your piercing eyes as you command my attention. It’s not the memory of your cock as it slides in and out of me. It’s not the sound of the whip lashing through the air or the sting of my flesh as it welts seconds after contact. No, it’s your voice that does it. It’s the memory of your voice as it resonates through my body. It’s the words “you are mine”, that echo in my mind. It vibrates through my body and ignites the lust between my thighs. It’s a hunger I can’t deny, as my hand slips once more underneath the covers and into my wetness.

© Secret Desire

Read all the Wank Wednesday erotic writing for Echo on Word Ejaculation 

Exciting news!


Hello my lovely readers. I have some very exciting news to share. Not only will I be attending Eroticon 2012, but I have been given the honor of joining an elite panel discussing “Identity, ethics and sex blogging”.

What is Eroticon 2012?

Eroticon 2012 is the UK’s first conference for Sex Bloggers and Erotica Writers.

Held in Bristol on Saturday 3rd March, it is an all day event open to anyone writing about sex online from novice bloggers to published authors, the conference will provide a safe space to learn, share and network.

The schedule includes workshops and panel sessions covering a wide range of subjects from writing inspiration, tech-skills, photography, getting published and more.
In the evening you can relax and mingle with a glass of wine and listen to readings from the UK’s up and coming sex bloggers and writers.

Want to learn more about Eroticon 2012? Visit the site here. And while you are there, check out the speakers page, yours truly is on there and check out my personal bio on the site. *grins*

Are you thinking about going but still not sure? Here is an insightful post written by Aisling Weaver as to why she is going.

Are you thinking this conference may be well out of your league, because you are “just a sex blogger” and not a published writer? Well, it’s not. Admittedly, when I first heard of the conference, I didn’t think it would be for me. To be honest, I’m still wondering how I even got invited to speak. I look around at the fellow speakers at the conference and I feel like the runt of the pack. But maybe that’s the point, right? That’s what makes me unique. I may not be a published writer (yet) like all the rest of the panelists, but dammit, I think I’m not all that terrible at the smut I do write. I’ve also been sex blogging for about 7 years now and I like to think I know a thing or two about the “community” and I certainly have some experiences, lessons learned and some insight and opinions to share. To be quite honest though, I do like being the runt.

I’m really excited about going to Eroticon 2012 and I sure do hope I’ll see some of you there. I am most excited about putting a face to the bloggers I read and making new friends and connections. Oh and did I mention each ticket to the conference gets you a £50 to spend at LoveHoney?

#WankWednesday – Dance


, ,


It starts with a glance. Eyes meet from across the room. A quick movement of irises, left, right, up and down. A dance of vision. Coy smiles erupt. Cheeks burn with heat. Fingers run through hair. Does one dare traverse the distance?

A twinkle in the eye, as fingertips trail goose bumped flesh. Lips near ears, taunting and teasing with verbal promises and intimate delights. Giggles, smiles and laughter with each euphemism caught in the air. The dance of flirtation takes flight.

Hunger erupts and lips meet, but briefly. Hands grasp flesh, pulling and pushing. A steady, rhythmic back and forth. Mouths collide and tongues begin to dance. Breathing grows rapid as it is forced through nostrils. Hastily breaking away, only to find a more suitable place to dance.

Surrounded by waves of satin, bare flesh exposed. Fingers begin their dance along craving skin. Inch by inch, fingers, lips and tongues cover ground. Left side, right side, not an angle left unexplored. One diving between thighs, delivering pleasure and resisting the urge to come up for air. Until the other, pushing against the current, engulfs the other in pleasure.

There is no more resistance. Aching arousal takes over. Thighs part, exposing wanton desire. One body over another, seeking claim. One thrust, pushing forward and finding purchase. A slow, steady rock begins. A dance of intimate proportions. Rocking of hips. Pushing and pulling. Arching back meeting every thrust. Movements changing from slow and soft to fevered and furious. Cheek to cheek, lips to ears. Fingers entwined and pinned to the mattress until finally the whirlwind explodes and all comes cascading down in one final motion.

Body flushed, sweat dripping, lips dry. Panting and sighing in complete contentment. The dance ends as it has begun. A stolen glance, a meeting of the eyes. A confirmation of things that happened and things to come.

© Secret Desire

 Read all the Wank Wednesday erotic writing for Dance on Word Ejaculation

#WankWednesday – Crave


, , ,


A lingering touch
Lips pressed against goose bumped flesh
Breathing in short gasps
Leather envelops neck
Collar locked into its place
My eyes burn with lust
On my knees for you
Hand caressing chin, you gaze
My eyes say it all
I stand before you
First strike hits, my backside stings
Tiny welts appear
I look back at you
Fingertips run along welts
It is not enough
The crop lands once more
Over and over it strikes
The welts burn my flesh
I say not one word
My eyes convey my message
I crave this sweet pain

 Read all the Wank Wednesday erotic writing for Crave on Word Ejaculation


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 7,488 other followers