Writing Challenge ~ New Year 2012

[Britwitch]

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ NEW YEAR 2012​

Here’s is December’s second challenge. This challenge will run for 10 days, to allow for New Year's.

Just one prompt this time though.

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You can involve the prompt itself in your piece and make your link to the prompt as obvious or as subtle as you like or use it simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompt, just one aspect of the image, or use it in its entirety.

The word limit for this challenge is 2,000 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

It’s your writing, your challenge. You write whatever you’re inspired to write! Be it one piece or several!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Comment and Review Thread

The deadline for this month’s challenge is Friday 4th January 2013, with the first new challenge of 2013 hopefully ‘going live’ on Sunday 6th!

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

 

[Britwitch]

Growing Late

The music is quiet and unobtrusive, the hum of conversation soft. The ice tinkles pleasantly in my glass as I raise it to carefully glossed lips. My make up is subtle but effective, eyes dark and smoky with liner and mascara to highlight the length of my lashes, shadow to enhance the blue of my irises. Hair has been allowed to curl and sections have been pinned back from my face leaving the rest to fall down the back of my neck and between bare shoulders.

The dress is black, as the invitation had specified, and fits almost too well. Wonders of dressmaking enable the strapless gown to both push up and support my breasts while ignoring the constant tug of gravity. More ingenious stitching helps the garment glide over my waist and hips before falling to the floor, hovering mere millimetres above it. At first glance it seems quite demure. Until I move and a split that runs up the front of the dress from the hem to the middle of my thigh is revealed. Allowing flashes of stocking clad leg and almost too high heels to be seen when I walk.

A lot of effort has gone in ensuring I look the way I do and it has all been for one, single purpose. One reason.

You.

You look devastating in your tuxedo. Just devastating. I know mine are not the only eyes that keep lingering on your form. I’ve been admiring from afar, enjoying the view, feeling pangs of something akin to jealousy towards those lucky enough to enjoy your company, see your smiles up close, hear your voice.

Of course, I could have come over earlier. But I know I wouldn’t have been able to control myself, to limit myself to polite conversation and nothing more. However, the hour is later now, sharp eyes and keen ears have been dulled by the copious libations on offer. As my glass is refilled your current conversational partner makes her excuses and leaves.

My smile grows and eyes sparkle as I move towards you. Hips swaying as I approach, catching your eye and holding it as I pause for the briefest of moments before you, taking a sip from my glass without breaking eye contact and then I continue on my way. I don’t look back. I know you’re behind me.

Heels take me into an empty room, a study of sorts going by the shelves of books and the large desk that dominates the setting. I’ve barely stopped walking when I hear the door click shut. My smile grows a little more as hands land on my hips and lips press against the back of my neck, making my hips twitch ever so slightly as a result.

“It’s been a lovely evening so far…” I murmur, running my tongue over my lips. “…and I’ve a feeling it’s only going to get better…” I turn to face you, eyes bright, smile mischievous as my hand places my glass on a nearby table. Now free, my fingers rise to tug at your bow tie. Undoing the carefully tied knot and letting the black fabric dangle from your collar.

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Buttons come next, loosening your collar, then gradually opening and parting the white cotton. The heels mean I can reach your neck with relative ease and soon my lips are pressing kisses around your throat and down across the skin of your chest as it is revealed. I stop far north of your waist, and step back. Admiring my handiwork as I pick up my glass and take a sip, making no small show of letting my eyes travel over the flesh now visible, across the rest of you that is not, flitting up to your eyes to see you watching me as I look at you. Another, larger, sip and the glass is put back down.

With a wicked glint in my eyes I move back before you and press my lips to your neck, kissing softly. Breathing your aftershave through my nose and growling softly. Before pushing my tongue forward and easing the ice that I’d held in my mouth against your skin. Dragging it slightly. Your reaction almost making me drop the rapidly melting cube altogether. I trail it down, between the parted fabric of your shirt, down your chest until the still fastened buttons halt my progress. Slipping what little remains back into my mouth I move lower, crouching before you in my heels, hands gliding over tailored pants to find and open your flies before retrieving that which I seek from within.

Firming flesh is cradled and massaged, stroked and fondled, in my warm soft palm. My sounds are those of appreciation, of desire. Leaning closer I kiss the head and then take you into my mouth. You can feel the remaining chill of the ice even though it has entirely melted, mingling with the heat of my mouth. I suck, hard and deep. The urge to do this has been building for hours and now I have you here with me, there is no holding back. Traces of sparkling gloss soon decorate the base of your shaft just as they do on your neck and chest in places.

Curls bouncing softly as I bob my head back and forth, tongue and lips savouring, caressing.

When I sense your composure faltering, I rise and move towards the desk. Words are not needed it seems. I feel you move behind me, hands pushing and pulling the material of my dress up my legs. Your palms find stockings, then that patch of skin where the garters lay then higher to find my sex bare. As it has been all evening. Bare and wet and hungry for you.

A smooth movement and you push easily inside. Pinning me between you and the huge wooden desk. My back bends, arches, pushing my rear wantonly back against you as you start to thrust. The seamstress who created my dress should be proud of herself. My breasts strain, threatening to spill over the top of the gown with every push of your body into my but the dress holds fast. Keeping the shuddering mounds trapped within. Carefully painted nails reach back to curl around the desk’s edge while teeth grip my lip tightly and try to minimise the sounds I make. To think, outside the door are people locked in polite conversation, maybe a little flirting, all with no idea of what is going on mere feet from where they stand.

A hand pushes between my shoulder blades, pushing my face lower, to rest against the wooden top as your speed increases. Seems I’m not the only one with urges that have been building. Your hands take my wrists and lift up, bending my arms to hold them behind me. You can’t tangle your fingers in my hair, as I know we both want, but this…this you can do. One large palm holds both as your cock spears my tight, wet pussy again and again.

Soon it comes, your speed and force reaches a fever pitch and then you push as deeply as possible inside me. Flooding me, filling me, claiming me.

Your hold eases slightly on my wrists but keeps them where they are as your body bucks and rides out the end of its climax. Finally you stop and with a gentle tug, pull me up against you, still sheathed inside me. You kiss my cheek. It’s flushed I can tell. Both of us breathing hard. Unable to speak.

When at last words are possible you growl in my ear.
“Outside. Two minutes. We’re going home.”

You slip from inside me and help me lower my dress, my cheeks pinked as I feel wetness on my skin beneath the expensive gown. Me and you mingling between my thighs. Another kiss, softer. A smile from you, a soft giggle from me and then you slip from the room. I take a moment to calm myself, to convince myself I’ll be able to walk out in a fairly straight line and then follow you.

I’ve never wanted to get into a cab so much in my life.