Stress Relievers

20140627-230359.jpg Leaving the meeting he knew it was his fault. Everyone in the room knew it was his fault though none of them were willing to say it. It was his 3rd big screwup in as many months and it wasn’t like him at all.

Loosening his tie, closing his office door all he could think was, “Why is this happening?” The mistake had been made and sitting in an empty office on a Friday wasn’t going to fix it.

Scrolling though his phone only one number stood out, “I can’t focus, I’m fucking up. You want to get a drink?” The text read.

“I want you to come fuck me,” she responded.

Between work and work he hadn’t seen her in a month, as soon as he read to text he could feel himself getting hard. Adjusting his dick, looking at the stack of contracts on his desk; he just walked out the office.

“This shit can wait until Monday.” He said to no one in particular.

Normally there would be some playful back and forth. He’d ask her if he needed to bring anything, if she was hungry. Not today though. “I want you to come fuck me.” Seeing those words over and over on his screen did something to him. Running red lights he justified as yellow, rolling through stop signs, weaving through cars in traffic he needed to relieve the stress that had him drinking and not sleeping.

Every 5 minutes or so he would get a picture. The first was just a bra and panties on the bed, “Should I put them on or nah?” The second was her in a short robe, clear she’d just gotten out the shower by the way it was sticking to her. It was open but just enough. Her hands on where her panties should have been. “If you don’t hurry and get here I’m starting without you!” The 3rd picture almost made him hit two cars. Her robe was on one side of the bed, her lingerie was on the other. A vibrator lying beside her. On all fours, completely naked, her legs spread. “Thank God for timers on camera phones. I swear I’ve never been this wet.” He put the phone face down and images flashed before his eyes like lightening.

10 minutes later he was pulling into her driveway. Ready to bang on the door he thought about it and it was unlocked. Walking inside, music playing, candles burning. Her in the kitchen in the same robe, in the same heels. Not saying a word, just kissing her hard, sucking on her bottom lip, cupping her breast. Her trying her best to unbuckle his pants with his hands making the come here motion inside of her.

Biting her shoulder, licking her neck, the robe hanging from the ceiling fan, her bent over! That first moment he slides in, the tightness and wetness gripping him. One hand on the back of her neck, the other hand alternating between slapping her ass and the finger in her ass.

No taking it slow, no warming up or finding a rhythm. Just him trying to relieve the stress and her all so willing to be that stress reliever.

Demez F. White

Real Men Open Doors: Seven Gentlemanly Traits That Cost Us Nothing

suits Real Men Open Doors: Seven Gentlemanly Traits That Cost Us Nothing

A big topic of conversation over the past several years has been about who pays for a date? Women want equality so if they invite you out shouldn’t they pay but on the other hand if a man has romantic intentions shouldn’t he pay? There’s no right or wrong answer, each situation is different. Each relationship, courtship and friendship has different levels, different dynamics. I personally always pay or offer to but we all have different finances and responsibilities.

This isn’t about that though. This is about simple things that don’t cost us anything but get us all sorts of goodwill.

Seven- Opening and holding open doors is slowly becoming a lost art. Not just with the women that smell good on date nights but anytime you see an elderly person, woman or child. It amazes me how women look almost surprised when I open their door. It only takes a couple of seconds and it’s appreciated.

Six- Yes ma’am and no sir- I was simply raised to address people older than myself as Mr. and Mrs. and yes sir and no ma’am. Nothing bothers me more than seeing children say, “Yeah” to someone twice their age. Being a grown man saying yes sir and no sir to men my grandfather’s or even father’s age is just a sign of respect.

Five- Giving up your seat. Whether its in a waiting room, on a train, a bus or a crowded restaurant bar if you’re sitting and a woman is standing offer her your seat. I’ve never worn heels but they aren’t made for standing in. I look at it this way. If it was my mother, grandmother, wife standing there I’d want a man to do it for them.

Four- Offer the last piece before you eat it. It could be cake, pizza, beer or just enough in the bottle for one more glass of wine. Ask would anyone else like this before you eat it. It’s the polite thing to do and manners tend to be contagious and attractive.

Three- It’s okay to tuck your shirt in at times, to wear a tie when it’s a casual setting. You can be overdressed, that’s fine. Society has become so casual. Slacks and a blazer to meet a friend for drinks is fine. A suit and tie on a first date doesn’t mean you’re trying too hard. Good cologne, a nice watch and clean shoes should be the norm.

Two- If someone is on the phone or not paying attention just try and make eye contact and say, “Excuse me.” Two simple words that take the rude aspect of interruption away. “Thank you,” works the same way. A person holds the elevator for you, compliments you, anything… Just say thank you.

One- It’s okay to look at beautiful women, just don’t stare. If a woman is fine she knows she’s being admired. Most women that are curvy can’t hide it. Hips, breasts, a nice butt tend to stand out. Gentleman don’t ever mention the obvious unless you know her. Compliment details other men miss. Her jewelry, her hair, her purse. Her perfume. Be confident and smile but just don’t stare. Until she walks away and then stare 🙂

Looks Best When…

182240_562470723185_118401058_31406809_1126638_nWritten By: Sapphire and Demez

She Looks Best When She’s In…

The first time I got a shirt printed with my book cover on it, with my name on it, all I could think about is how she would look in it. You know, that moment when she comes over for dinner and she doesn’t plan on staying put there’s too much wine, too many laughs and all of a sudden she decides to spend the night.

“Give me something to put on.” She says it knowing it probably won’t stay on long anyway but seeing her in my t-shirt does something to me. The way she takes it out of my hand and undresses with the bathroom door slightly open. The way she walks out the bathroom, the t-shirt sticking to her curves because of the moisture. The way it’s a little bit too small because all I had was a small left. I probably could have given her one made for a man but I like the ones made for women on women. It’s why I paid extra for it.

“I have some lotion in my purse, hand it to me.” I keep Dove body wash in the bathroom closet just in case she decides to spend the night, the soft smell makes my house feel more like a home, her thighs are touching in the t-shirt, even tipsy and with the title of my book on her chest she sits like a lady.

I’m so busy staring that I don’t hear her calling my name, I don’t see her handing me her phone. “You iPhone people and those horrible cameras. Use my phone, take some pictures,” she says. I see the seriousness in her eyes, the way she licks her lips. Sitting back on the couch I’m watching her thru the camera on the phone the size of a tablet. Tonight in my t-shirt she’s Mona Lisa and I’m Picasso.

He Looks Best When He’s In…

There’s something damn near edible about a man wearing a tailored suit, I can’t quite put my hands on it and yet I wanted to put my hands all over him, run the tip of my fingers from the width of his shoulders to his length and watch him get lost in the feel of me feeling all over him.

I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d seen him in J’s, a wife beater and jeans a million times but even in that, every time I saw him was better than the last, causing my heart to skip several beats and that girlish grin and blush to cover my face in a warm glow; instantly making me feel like I was in high school all over again… Daaam there was nothing like that feeling. He was gorgeous in his “dough boy” basics, his swag on 20, with his no nonsense attitude all into me and visually devouring every inch that he saw. That’s how I met him, looking absolutely delicious and every inch of him screamed “trouble.”

Good, that’s exactly what I needed to jumpstart my transition into my newly “single” status. I’ve always had a thing for bad boys, tattoos, and trouble and he says he has this crazy fixation for redheads with tongue rings and sassy attitudes; check and checkmate, guess we’ll both have our hands full. We exchanged numbers me locking mine into his phone, him sliding his in my back pocket, gripping tightly and pulling me in close, smelling warm and intoxicating and reminding me of something unexpected like receiving a note asking to check a box to be his girlfriend.

Cute, I love originality but those sloppy, wet kisses from my cheeks and ears to my neck and chest was absolute “D-boy” action and they were doing the trick. He placed those soft pillows he calls lips on mine and I reciprocate, devouring and sucking on his bottom lip, feeling him go hard and soft at the same time; he ain’t ready for this action and its’ been a long time since a man had been this close; hopefully I can behave myself but I refused to make any promises.

She Looks Best When She’s In…

“What are you doing after work?” It’s the question she text’s me after lunch. I sat back and looked at my phone, wondering if I should tell her the truth or make something up that sounds more exciting, maybe something funny. It’s a beautiful day outside though and the last thing I want to do on a beautiful day is be in the house.

“I’m cutting the yard and washing my truck. Maybe I’ll BBQ if I can get the fire started before it gets dark.” She’s not the raking leaves and washing a truck type so I expect her to send me one of those silly emoji’s she loves, instead she sends, “Cool, I’m going to help you, I’m coming over after work.”

Standing in the backyard, I see her walking towards me. Ripped jeans that show bits and pieces of those pretty legs of hers. Jeans that look amazing on her but the mosquitoes and thorns on the bushes will love too much. A long sleeve flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows, one of those shirts that looks worn but you can tell it’s new. Her hair is in a bun, she’s wearing some Timberlands with the jeans inside.
We both know she’s not here to work, she just hates being home by herself on the weekends. She’ll take a bath in Off and sit on the porch drinking beer and watching me work. She looks best when she looks comfortable, when she looks like she’s at home.

He Looks Best When He’s In…

We met up later that night so of course I’m late, quite naturally, but I’m as flawless as someone this nervous could be and worth every extended minute. I pull up next to him all calm and collect, hands moist, heart racing and every bit excited about the possibilities. He sees me, primping nervously, stands in front of my car to ensure that I get a full dose of what he had to offer; I almost lost it. Mouth-watering, panties soaked and holding on to every pulsating ounce of me that begged to be held and stroked by him, by this insanely gorgeous man wearing the hell out of every stitch in his black, tailored suit. I leaned back in my seat and got drunk off the power radiating off him, compelling me, absolutely begging me to submerge myself in his everything, to lose my life in his passion; to allow him to momentarily dictate and dominate me. I exhaled the high he placed me on loving the trip that he was taking through my veins and allowed myself to get lost in him. Hmmmm, he was delicious.

Dinner was beautiful, the conversation and wine was flowing, his words were profound but all I wanted to do was sit on his lap, rub my face in his beard as he whispered poetry in my ear. I wanted to get lost in every syllable and vowel, wrap my fingers around his tie, draw him in closely and nibble on those lips where those beautiful words mixed and mingled with the wine that was already invading my system. I wanted to massage his broad shoulders through the fabric and allow it to hypnotize me until I was unaware and uncaring about our surroundings. There was something about him in his suit that caught me completely off guard and totally open and receptive to everything that he had to offer and he knew it. He led me back to his car propped me on his hood, slid in between my legs and nibbled and sucked all over my neck, reminding me of what it felt like to be wanted and desired; of what it felt like to be needed, to be loved if only momentarily. I basked in the moment, in the glow of it all daring to lose myself for a second to this amazing man in his suit.

She Looks Best When She’s In…

I don’t sleep much, most mornings I’m up at five or six after going to sleep at two or three. Seeing her lie in the bed, the sheet barely covering her naked ass and back. I like watching her sleep, maybe I like seeing her naked more. Clothes aren’t her favorite thing in the world. Most mornings she has nothing more than a robe that she barely closes.

Her skin is perfect, flawless. It’s not without effort. She moisturizes after every shower, she puts on this facial mask three times a week. I’ve never seen her forget to floss or get a pimple.

She has to know how turned on I get when I see her naked, when she’s getting ready to take a shower and has to let the water run for ten minutes before she steps in. I think my lips love her skin more then she loves her skin. As crazy as it sounds I feel like it’s sweet. When my tongue is tracing that skin I feel as though I can taste skittles or Hershey’s kisses.

Taking Another Man’s Wife Scene IV


“What the hell do you think is going to happen when he asks about the first doctors appointment or morning sickness?! You should have just told him the fucking truth!”

The top floor of the parking garage was empty with the exception of our two cars. The sky was as dark and grey as I felt and his attitude wasn’t any better. No one knew about us, not my sister, not my bestfriend. No one so much as suspected it. I’d went out of my way to keep this between us and the more lies I told the easier they became.

When you lie so much about one man, one affair, you start to believe it. I believed that I was protecting my husband, my marriage, by doing what I did last night.

“You don’t think I know this?! And why in the hell were you calling me at 3:00am!?” He laughed, he loosened his tie and laughed. His smile and dimples used to excite me, now there was something about them that just didn’t seem right. I rubbed the back of my neck and walked to the edge, the Medical Center seemed so small from up here. But my problems didn’t.

Did he want me to get caught? Oh my God! He wanted me to get caught! I turned around and looked at him, waiting for an answer!

“I called you because I’d fucked you so good yesterday that I knew you’d be knocked out so I was hoping your husband would answer the phone and I could tell him that my dick was bigger than his.” There was no humor in his tone, no charm or anger, no emotion. He just said it and I realized he meant it.

This was an escape from reality for me, I wanted a child just as bad as my husband. I wanted the little league games and a mini me to do her hair. We’d traveled and loved in every place you could imagine but a part of me needed to feel young just one more time before I gave up on the men like the asshole that was in front of me.

Rough sex, love/hate grabbing and just fucking was something I needed! It’s hard living up to the expectations of someone who can see no wrong in you. Hair, nails, bras and panties, even when he didn’t mention it I could see him judging me and expecting me to be his perfect wife! So I gave him what he wanted and when he kissed me and went to work I came to this man and broke my vows in the nastiest and freakiest ways possible. And I hated myself because even with the lie about me being pregnant still fresh in my mind all I wanted was for him to bend me over and make me forget about our sins!

When he grabbed my ass and picked me up my skirt came up to my stomach! The concrete was cold and wet on my ass and when his fingers slid inside my panties and wrapped my arms around his neck so I wouldn’t fall! We were ten stories up and the idea that someone could be looking made me cum on his fingers!

He tried to kiss me but I moved my lips, I didn’t want to kiss him today! Kissing was intimate, kissing meant love… I didn’t love this man! I loved how he made me feel, how he felt inside of me! It was thick and long and perfect and it filled every inch of my pussy and God I missed that when I my husband was inside of me! There’s only so much great head can do for you but there is and will never be anything like…

“Ahhhhhhh!” My breasts were hanging over the top of my bra, one was in his mouth and the other in covered in my hand. The harder he sucked the harder he fucked me and the louder I screamed! He pulled me off the ledge, still inside of me and slammed me on the hood of his BMW! My back hit with a thud but he didn’t stop!

My husband would have laid me down and asked if I was alright, he would have looked into my eyes and caressed by face. This man bent me over and grabbed the back of my neck! One leg was on the car and the other was pinned down. He stuck a finger in my asshole and my moan was caught in my throat!

The wet squishy sound let him know I couldn’t fight it! I just couldn’t fight it!

“I hate yoooou! I haaaaate yooou!” He started to go harder and even with the rain falling and my blouse ripped and my hair destroyed I didn’t want him to stop! Going back to work wasn’t an option and going home was even less of an option but I just didn’t want him to stop!

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

I could feel him but he was too heavy and holding me down! “No! No!”

He stopped and I knew he came in me. I could feel it and I knew that when I lied to my husband about being pregnant last night I didn’t take my pill this morning…