Truth or Dare ‘Explicit Content’

 “Truth or dare?”

We were sitting in Benjy’s at 10:30pm on a Thursday night; it was my first time seeing her since she called me over two weeks ago. The restaurant/ lounge was packed and we were in a booth in the corner. It was dark and the liquor was flowing. I had on a pair of black slacks, a white button down shirt and a black cashmere sweater. Issey Miyake of course, she was wearing a sexy dress that was backless and short. I had no idea what her perfume was but I did know it was alluring as hell.

“Truth.” She said

“How often do you think about me?” I took a sip of my beer and looked her in her very intoxicated eyes.

“Is that a trick question?” She could flirt without ever saying a word.

“It seemed like a pretty straight forward question to me.”

She took a sip of her wine and placed her hand on my thigh.

“I mean, if you’re asking how often I think about you as a person, that’s one thing. About our future, that’s another question; but if you’re asking how often I think about fucking you. That’s the money question.” She gave me courage to be freaky as hell, I think we did that for each other.

“You think too much! Why don’t you pick which one you want to tell me?!” She rubbed her hand along the inside of my thigh.

“I can’t focus the first half of my work day because I can’t get our morning conversations out of my mind, your voice, the way you’re frustrated at the morning traffic or excited about payday. The way you talk about your “toy” like it’s an adequate substitute. All those things make me want you.”

She licked her lips and motioned for the waiter.

“They make you want me how? What’s the first thing you think of doing?” She was setting the game off right.

“That’s more than one question; you’re breaking the rules of the game.” Her smile was electric!

“We can make our own rules tonight.”

The waiter walked over to the table, I knew her drinking habits better than I knew her religious views.

“Let me get another bottle of wine, another Bud Light Draft and four shots of Patron.”

“Yes sir, I’ll have that out in a minute.”

“Thank you.”

I picked up where we left off.

“The first thing I think about doing is kissing you; I guess I’m old fashioned like that. I like kissing, I love kissing or maybe I just love using my mouth on things. Who knows? Your voice makes me hard.”

“So you’re hard now?” She winked, I took her hand and placed it on my lap.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Are you daring me?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“You have to say it and you also have to know you can’t beat me at this game. I’m the truth or dare Queen.”

“I DARE YOU!”

She never looked down, never took her eyes off mine, never gave anyone in the restaurant a clue as to what she was doing. She pulled it completely out and touched it, rubbed around the tip and just played with and held it like it was hers. The way I was feeling about her, it was hers for as long as she wanted it.

“I guess you weren’t lying, he feels different since the last time I touched him, smoother. You’ve been using some new soap or something?”

“Nothing like that, you’ve just been acting funny for too long, so you’re out of touch with him.”

“I’m positive we’ll get back in touch tonight, I do miss him, even though he’s a little hard on me.”

“I thought you liked him better when he was hard on you, a little rough on you.”

“I like him like that but to be honest, I like him better when I can wake him up.”

“What’s your best method for waking him up? Do you think he responds better to your hands or your mouth?”

“That’s a good question; you’re his bestfriend, why don’t you tell me what he says to you.”

“He likes when you touch him, your hands are really small and soft, he feels big when one of those are wrapped around him. Hugging him; however, he is a sucker for that mouth of yours, those pouty lips.”

“Oh, that’s good to know. I forgot whose turn it is, I think it’s mine.”

“Shoot.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to slide your hand under my dress; I have a surprise for you.”

“Is the surprise dangerous?”

“Why would it be dangerous?”

“Why would you make it a dare?”

“I’m made it a dare because what’s under the dress is addictive but I’m sure you already know that. I’m making it a dare because this place is packed and someone has to know what we’re doing in this booth.”

Her dress was tight, she had to sit up a little and raise it up over her ass just so I could gain access. If the booth wasn’t so high everyone in the place would get a show because she was not wearing panties.

“I took them off in the car, once I smelled your cologne; I knew I wouldn’t need them.”

“So you’re reading minds now.”

“Not minds, just a mind. I’m in your head boy and you know it.”

“You’re right, it is addictive, you know I can’t control myself now.”

“Hmmmm…. Ohhh My Goood, that feels so good. I wish I could cut off your hand and take it with me.”

She was getting a little too comfortable, her eyes were closed and her head was titled to the side. When I saw the waiter walking towards us with our drinks I stopped playing around down there but I didn’t take my fingers out. It was too warm to move my hand.

He sat our drinks down.  

“Thank You.” I waited until he was out of ear hustle range. “But you wouldn’t know how to use my hand the way I do, we’re a package deal. Does my hand make you feel good?”

“Your hand makes me cum often.”

“You are pretty wet, I’m guessing no one has touched my girl since me right?”

“You would guess right, for some reason she’s really fond of you. At night, when I’m playing with my toy to get a good nights sleep, we like to imagine it’s your tongue pressing town on my clit. Vibrating and licking… Hmmmm….”

I had to change the subject, she was getting wetter and wetter and my probing was getting more and more intense. I was a drip away from picking her up and sitting her in my lap.

“It’s my turn, truth or date?”

“Dare.”

“Hmmmm…. A drunken tongue speaks no lies, so I dare you to drink all four shots of patron, half the bottle of wine and your beer. Without stopping! If you’re chicken, don’t worry about.”

She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Oh… And you can’t take your magic fingers out my pussy.”

“I’m always up for a challenge but if I throw up all over you, that’s your fault.” She laughed a really sexy, really drunk laugh.

Patron shot one, two, three four! I slammed the last shot glass down and burped.

I chugged the beer and placed my fist over my mouth, the wine was going to be the hardest because I hadn’t been drinking it all night but I was a winner.

“You don’t have to drink it; you can always admit that you’re a loser!” She licked her tongue out at me. I added another finger to the two I already had inside of her, I could feel her open her legs wider under the table.

I didn’t even bother putting the wine in a glass; I just took it to the head until I killed half the bottle. The fucking room was spinning. I put my hand on my face and closed my eyes tight. I was fucked up. I took my hands out of her and licked my fingers like I’d just ate some hot wings.

“You taste something you like?” She took that same hand and licked the last finger.

“Ummm, I had to see what has you so addicted, is my baby drunk?” She laughed and kissed me, the kiss was abrupt and hard but I damn sure kissed back. I was never into PDA but I didn’t care about much when it came to her.

“I want you to take me to your truck and let me ride your face and your dick! Can your drunk ass do that?!” I placed my hands on her waist while she sat up to pull her dress down.

“I can do that, I’m not that drunk, but I don’t have any condoms so what are we going to do?” We stood up and I paid the bill with a generous tip. She stood up on her tippy toes and licked the side of my face.

“I’ll just have to pull out and I’ll just have to swallow.”

“Let’s go…”

”Anticipation is the central ingredient in sexual desire. As sex has a major cognitive component, the most important element for desire is positive anticipation indeed; one name for pleasurable anticipation is excitement.”

 I’m dedicating this story to you and there is no way you can’t know who you are….

You Deserved to be Kissed Right Here, Here and Most Importantly Right There

20131229-202752.jpgI always cringe when I hear people say, “I don’t like kissing.” A part of me just wants to shake them and say, “Do you know what you’re missing?!” Or “You probably just haven’t found someone to do it right yet!”

There is nothing and I mean nothing more intimate and perfect than a kiss that’s at just the right time and in just the right place. I can’t draw worth a lick but I imagine it’s like an artist that is in a groove. When lips connect and the intensity starts to pick up, that moment when she takes a breath and you move to her neck, right below her ear. I get why people love sex, I’m a man. To me sex is a point of no return. Kissing is different because even though it’s so intimate there’s still something innocent about it.

It can be a soft kiss while waiting for a movie to start. It can be one of those, “I can’t wait to take your clothes off kisses,” up against a door when you know you need to leave. Don’t forget about the she’s lying on her stomach, sleeping, napping, reading a book or playing her phone and you start to kiss the back of her thighs or her ass. Those are the kisses when both of you know whatever plans you had are going to be postponed. What’s that jewelry store commercial, “Every kiss begins with Kay.” Well, most great memories begin with a kiss.

Confidence has always come natural to me but I’m not that guy that can’t take direction. I can never know a grown woman’s body better than she knows it. Where she wants to get kissed, what feels good, how much pressure to apply.

I could sit in a couch, the TV on mute. No music, no gimmicks and just kiss and touch and flirt for hours. The time goes by so fast when she’s straddling you and her hearts beating and both of you are on the edge of so much pleasure.

Kissing is what I miss most about not having a woman in my life. Knowing I can kiss her at 4am with morning breath. Knowing I can kiss her after a bad day.

A forehead.
A belly button.
A nipple.
The nape of a neck.
The small of a back.
Lips.

Kissing is Everything.

She’s Overdressed If She’s Wearing Underwear…

handsI was sitting at my computer and I started to write a fictional story for the blog tonight but then as I was thinking what I wanted to write it hit me…

I don’t want to write about something that’s not real tonight. I want to write about the basis for the erotica that I do write about. And that’s sexy women.

Sitting here, I can’t remember the last time I had sex, it’s been awhile. I sort of made a promise to myself that the next time it happened it would mean something. There would be no regrets or sneaking out while she’s sleep. No worrying about STD’s or Pregnancies or faulty condoms. “The next time I have sex it will be with a woman I can see myself waking up to everyday hereafter.” I meant that and it wouldn’t hurt if it was a woman that understood the value of leaving her panties at home every now and again. I write about sex so much because I love it, I love sexual women and all the flirting and innuendo that leads to memorial nights and mornings. I’m about that life when that life finds me.

It’s sort of like when you’re having a good text session.

Where are we going tonight? What should I wear?

I’m a man that likes fashion, I could tell her where we’re going and what most of the women are going to be dressed like but that’s waaaaay to easy. I’d rather just say…

You’ll look good in anything, just make sure you aren’t wearing panties. It’s a casual spot fyi.

Some women will ignore the fact that you asked them not to wear panties. Some will give you one of those token lol’s that they give everyone. But the ones that you want, the one that you can’t wait to flirt with all night says something like…

I wasn’t planning on wearing them anyway.

That’s when you get excited. It doesn’t mean you’ll have sex with her that night. It doesn’t even mean you’ll see whether or not she’s wearing panties. It’s just the idea that she’s flirty and sexy enough to play the game with you. I often run across two sorts of women, the goofy and silly ones that seem to laugh at everything and the serious ones that wear you down. It’s not often you meet the ones that just know what to say at the right time to turn you on.

Anyway, I’m almost out of Crown so I’m going to make a trip to someone’s restaurant and finish watching this game and have a couple drinks. You ladies that are going to forget the underwear at home tonight or in the morning.

We appreciate you!

My Girl Has A Girlfriend…

“We’re not doing this in our bed. Don’t think too hard, don’t call me. Just meet me at the Magnolia Hotel, the front desk will tell you what suite.”

The note was pinned to the refrigerator. Written in red lipstick on pink paper. I read it three more times to get some clarity but the more I read it the more my mind was going crazy.

“We’re not doing this in our bed?” Was it syrup or whipped cream? Was it going to get that messy?

A quick shower, traded in my steel toe boots and polo shirt for a light sweater and slacks. Don’t call, don’t text is what she wrote. She wanted me to lose my mind thinking, she wanted me to be surprised.

Valeting my truck, ignoring the increasing thunderstorm falling down I walked in the lobby. Told the man behind the counter my name and he smiled and told me the suite was on the 5th floor. It was the only one on that floor so I couldn’t miss it.

For whatever reason his smile had me wondering what he’d seen that had him giggling.

Knocking on the door, smoothing out the cashmere, I stepped back from the door when a woman that wasn’t my wife opened the door.

“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong room.”

She laughed and reached for my hand, “You don’t remember me do you? We met at Whitney’s graduation party and we’re FB friends. You have the right room.” I let her take my hand.

“We’re not doing this in our bed.” The words made sense now. The woman in front of me who’s name I still couldn’t remember was gorgeous. A short hair cut, toned body, full breasts. She wasn’t naked but I could tell she wasn’t wearing much under the short silk robe. And from the two bottles of empty wine on the table I could tell she was tipsy.

“Where’s Whit?”

“She’s went downstairs for a massage. She wanted us to talk first, she wanted to make sure you like me. Said you may not feel comfortable?”

“I am a little surprised but I’m not uncomfortable. Did you and my wife do things like this before we were married?”

She sat on the bed and sat Indian style, she definitely wasn’t wearing anything under the robe.

“Your wife has always been the life of the party and the leader in the room. Me and Whit have had some adventures. After school I put up my laptop, cell and traveled the world. Half my family thought I was dead, I got back and found out Whit was yours and not mines anymore. I’m your wife’s ex- girlfriend and she brought me here today to give her husband an early Christmas gift.”

She stood up from the bed and let the robe fall to the floor. Like it was all planned or just perfect timing my wife walked thru the door and kissed me on the lips. Stepping out of her tank and sweats she pulled the woman close and kissed her like I’d only ever seen her kiss me. Turning her around, standing behind her I watched as she traced her body and and sucked her neck. She was in complete control. Don’t just stand there husband, she’s your too tonight.

To Be Continued…

Can I Have You For Lunch?

“What are you wearing today?” He called her from the Hotel lobby. It was quiet in the middle of a Wednesday.

“You ask me that everyday? Why do you want to know? If you’re putting me in one of your stories I need to see a check.” She laughed knowing she was going to tell him, she just liked playing this game.

“Just tell me and stop being difficult.” He smiled to himself; he hadn’t heard her laugh in a couple of days.

“Leopard and black lace underwear, black bra, grey slacks, purple camisole, grey purple and white cardigan sweater and drum roll… Four inch purple suede pumps.” She looked at her pumps sitting on the floor next to her desk. They were made for modeling, not working. She touched up her lip gloss.

“Can you work in four inch pumps?” Her tone changed, she lowered her voice before she answered.

“I can put in more work than you can imagine in these pumps.” He adjusted the way he was sitting, he didn’t want people to see his erection.

“Take an extended lunch and meet me at Hotel Granduca in Uptown Park.” There was a silence, she wanted him as much as he wanted her but there was a silence.

“I have a lot of work to do.” He knew she wanted him to need her; to stop showing his representative, to stop being so cool and be real.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. My attorney, my publishers, my grandparents. I’m dealing with a lot and the only time my mind has peace is when I’m inside of you. There’s no place in the world as calm as your body on top of mine. I need you, please.” He gave her what she needed, what he feared. Access to what no one else saw.

“Don’t game me author. Don’t use that million dollar imagination to get in my head and between my legs if you don’t mean this shit.” She needed to know this was real because she was falling whether he knew it or not.

“I’ll be waiting.” He smiled and checked into the hotel.

She hung up the phone and smiled at what was to come.

Why Men Love Women In Dresses…

I’ve often heard women say they love seeing a man work with his hands. Fixing a car, mowing a yard, building a deck on the back porch. Women are just attracted to manly men.

Well…

Men are just attracted to womanly women. And what’s the sexiest thing a woman can wear outside of skin and lace? A dress.

When I see a woman in a dress I simply imagine everything from what’s underneath, to is she wearing panties to how her skin feels. There’s something magical about knowing that by unzipping a zipper or button or two that one piece of clothing is falling off.

Dresses are like love songs that are sexy but smooth.

Sundresses, chic 9-5 work dresses, cocktail little black dresses. They all have one thing in common, they belong on perfect thighs and soft ankles.

Pretty fingernails and toenails, collarbones and lips. Dresses just help accent those details and make life better.

My name is Demez and I love women. Especially the ones in dresses!

Lunch Dates…

“I only get 30 minutes for lunch. I’m going to have to work an extra half hour since I’m giving you an hour.”

“Wait… I’m not worth you having to text and play on Twitter an extra 30 minutes at your desk?”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure yet and just so you know. I work!”

I’d taken the day off to take her to lunch. We’d met once, talked on the phone a couple times and text’d more than enough. Lunch dates were the perfect date. It’s timed so if things go bad there’s a built in escape. If things go well there’s this excitement you wear the rest of the day.

I decided to wear slacks and loafers even though I was off. Impressions are everything.

Her black skirt kept riding up her thighs but if she wasn’t trying to pull it down, I wasn’t complaining.

“I would ask you what you want to drink but I know you have to go back to work.”

I slid the drink menu out of her reach, she rolled her eyes and picked up my glass. Downing the Remy straight.

“I can handle my liquor Author. The question is can you handle me?”

There was no smile on her face, she was waiting on me to blink. She didn’t know me well.

“You got a drop on your chin, let me get that.” I wiped the water from the glass off her chin and she licked it off my finger.

I blinked.

“You’re dangerous.”

“I’m also not wearing panties. What’s your point?”

To Be Continued…