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Thursday, October 27, 2011


Everything was red. 

From the satin sheets to her crimson lips.  Red.  From the roses on the nightstand to her small heart tattoo on her hip.  Red.

He stood up, fixing his tie as she lay on the bed.  Her hand lost in a sea of red satin.  Her skin is ivory and her eyes are like two emeralds glistening with delight.

She rolls back feeling the soft satin on her naked flesh.  He turns to look at her.  Her blond hair caressing her shoulders, her eyes fixated on him.  She bites her lip, her white teeth standing out against her red lips.

He leans down for a taste.  She smells of strawberries and greedily nibbles at his mouth, sucking his lip into hers, while her hands fumble with his belt.  She liked him so much better when he was naked.

She released his lip as her hands yank down his fly.  His black and red briefs are no match for her exploitative hands. 

He glances down as his cock springs to life.  The simple touch of her hand topped with her blood red nails, is enough to have him hard.  He had spent all night making love to her.  He was convinced he had nothing left but one simple touch from her and he was raring to go. 

He watched as she replaced her hand with her mouth.  Her lipstick smeared slightly, leaving a scarlet trace on his quivering member as she teased him to the best of her abilities.  He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing hard as she quickened her rhythm.  Her tongue traced back and forth over the head of his cock, all the while, her eyes watching his reaction.

Breathing hard, he opened his eyes.  A painting of a tragic clown stared back at him.  He always hated that painting but some how, in a room full of red, it worked. 

He informs her that he can't hold it anymore.  She doesn't let up.  The combination of her ruby lips, her skilled tongue and her hand squeezing his balls sends him over the edge. 

Moaning in approval, she swallows his load, her eyes still locked on him. 

He drops to his hunches, tracing a finger over the red heart on her hip.  "You drain me," he tells her.  She arches her eyebrow teasingly.  "I've been told I could suck the Nile dry," she said seductively.

She stands, tossing the sheet aside so he can see all her naked glory.  Her body is a temple and he is the monk willing to worship it. 

With air and grace, she crosses the room, her blond hair scaling down her back in loose golden curls.  He reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly touching it.  Soft as silk.  He watches in awe as she returns with a bowl of strawberries. 

Standing before him, naked as the day she was born, she holds up a strawberry.  Placing it to her lips, the tip of her tongue flickers out of her mouth, tasting it.  He groans, remembering her tongue doing that to him.

The red juice drips down her chin.  He sticks his tongue out, licking it, tracing her lips with just the very tip.  He kisses her with such force that she loses her footing and collapsing on the bed.

He parts her legs with his knee, hunger dancing in his eyes as he nips at the tender flesh of her neck, leaving red marks along her ivory skin.

She giggles, turning her head so he can have better access to her body.  She thrusts her breasts up towards him and he obliges, biting her sensitive nipples.  She pants and raises her legs allowing him access to her center of desire.

He thrusts inside her.  Forget the love making.  Now it was all animal instincts.  She claws at his back, leaving red welts along his skin as he teases her body, taunting her until she is begging for release.

He licks his thumb and, in slow circles, moves it along her clitoris, sending chills down her spine. 

As the power of her orgasm takes over, she kicks her leg, sending the fire red bowl filled with strawberries crashing to the ground.  The sound of the bowl breaking is just added to the symphony of their afternoon of passion.

He stands, readjusting his tie.  His eyes met hers through the mirror.  Her hands hold the red satin sheet against her body, her face is flushed as she bites her crimson lip.  Her eyes beckon him to join her but alas they must part.

As he leaves the room and enters the elevator he smiles.  Red.  The colour of the hotel hallway.  Red.  The colour of the elevators interior. 

He holds his jacket.  The scent of her perfume lingers.  His smiles broadens as the doors open.  He will see her again tonight. 

As he steps into the lobby he reminds himself to pick up a bottle of her perfume.  What was the name of it again? he wonders.  He chuckles to himself as he walks out the door and onto the busy street as the name lingers in his mind.  That's rightRed


  1. That was seductive. Very sensual. Does this mean that you're not going to write short horror fiction any more? Either way, you have a passion for writing and it clearly shows. I always wondered by you were attracted to the colour red. Now I know why :-) ha-ha.

  2. You have proven yourself time and time again. I love both your erotica and your horror. And any girl that writes like this has to be dynamite in the sack!

  3. Hot although I don't think it's as good as Rendezvous. But in saying that, it was still fucking hot!

  4. Whoa! Short but sexy. Pls be single im beggin u