Friday, January 25, 2013


~Chapter 97~

This is the hardest part of the overnight scene for me—waiting for Master’s eyes to open. After the intimacy of last night and our talk afterward, I can hardly withstand the barrier of his slumber. I know I could wake him if I really needed to, but I’d have some serious explaining to do. I close my eyes and let my Dark Prince keep me company.

Powered by my real-life progress into ever-kinkier forays, my heroine has the dubious honor of advancing further into my darkest imaginings.

 “I have a special treat for you today, princess,” he says.

Naked, blindfolded, hogtied and gagged on the concrete floor—I await my fate. I hear the faint creak of the dungeon door and soft footfalls crossing the room. My heart rate picks up and I focus on breathing evenly through my nose.

“She’s lovely,” declares a deep voice I don’t recognize. “May I touch her?”

“Of course,” Master answers. “She doesn’t bite.” He laughs at his own joke, and the blood chills in my veins. I’ve serviced Master’s friends before with mouth and hands, but always when I was in control. If I’ve been touched, it’s been a frenzied palming of a breast or firm hand at the back of my head, not this…not everything.

Fingers are on me, running between the taut ropes, pinching experimentally for responses. “Beautiful rope work,” he says admiringly. “She’s really quite helpless, isn’t she?”

Master laughs again. “Is that not the point?”

“Yes, so it is.” His hands reach between my thighs and I twitch, rocking slightly on my belly on the cold floor but unable to do anything to prevent him from pushing two fingers inside me. I protest the intrusion with a scream that is instantly silenced by the gag and bite down hard on the rubber forced between my teeth. The squeeze ball sits in my right palm, but Master has warned me that today’s scene will require more of me. We’ve discussed my boundaries; Master is well aware of my limits. That alone is enough to allow me to refocus and take a deep breath.

“She’s soaked,” he reports gleefully, thrusting and retracting his fingers harshly and causing me to grunt.

“So what else is new?” responds Master with  more than a touch of pride. “She’s ready when you are.”

I hear a soft rustle of clothing and feel the man settle between my knees. The reality stabs me like an arrow to the heart as the man parts my cheeks and makes his intentions known. I cry out reflexively, my breathing becoming erratic when my opening is breached. I remember the ball and squeeze it. The intrusion is halted immediately, and Master’s voice is next to my ear, pushing hair off my face and gently soothing me.

“It’s all right, princess. I’m right here. I’m going to take off your blindfold now. Open your eyes, princess. Please, sweetheart, open your eyes, Isabella.”

Master’s anxious expression is the first thing I see in the diffused light of morning. His eyes don’t leave mine, but his hands run through their inspection sequence, checking the ropes at my wrists, feeling my fingers for circulation, massaging the muscles in my upper arms to relieve the tension. “Bad dream?”

I blow out a heavy breath. “Yeah. Just the last part. I hope I didn’t wake you,” I cringe at the thought.

Master shakes his head. “Don’t ever be sorry for letting me know you’re in trouble. Besides, you can’t control what you do when you’re asleep.” He starts loosening the knots at my lower back. “I’m untying your hands.”

“Thank you.” My tongue feels thick and furry and there’s a puddle of drool next to my face. “Sorry, Master, not too attractive.”

He smiles. “I beg to differ, my sweet girl. Did you sleep all right on your stomach, until the nightmare?”

“Pretty much. My boobs and neck might be a little sore.”

“Flip onto your back and I’ll give you a good rub.”

I roll toward his warm body and await my Master’s touch. He’s gawking at my pointy nipples. “I think I’m going to need to hear the details of that dream, sweetheart.” His fingers pull and tease before he finally settles into a soothing motion.

“If it would please you, Master, I think it might be more entertaining if I write my next chapter for you later today while you’re watching your football game.”

A grin spreads across his face. “Your Dark Prince did this to you?”

“He did.”

Master’s hand slides down my belly and he finds me wet and wanting. “I love that guy. He makes my job so much easier.” Master teases with light touches before pulling his hand away. “Okay, I’ll wait…but so will you, princess. Go shower—and no unauthorized touching.”

Today calls for the Master’s all-black outfit—tight tee, belted cargos and heavy Docs—she needs to get that no-nonsense Master is in the house. I’ve foregone the boxers this morning, anticipating what’s to come…or more accurately, who. I lift one of the dining room chairs and place it in the middle of the living room floor, tossing a pillow about a foot away from the front two legs. “Lie down on your back and put your head on the pillow for me.”

She scurries into position. I cuff each wrist with chains and lift her arms over her head, fastening each hand to the chair. I lay a heavy, one-foot spreader bar on the floor between her feet and chain the ends around her ankles. Kneeling at her side, I loop the long chain from last night around her waist again and clip it in front, for no purpose whatsoever beyond enjoying the way her skin pebbles at the cool touch of the metal belt. “I love how you look in my hardware, Isabella.”

She turns her deep brown eyes to me. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not putting anything between your legs today.” Her face twists in a series of emotions—relief first, then confusion, followed finally by chagrin once she’s figured it out. Her Master is going to bring her to the brink, but what she doesn’t know is that her boyfriend is going to swoop in and be the hero. After all, Master’s already collared his sub whereas Edward has some winning over to do. In the delicate balance played by my two incarnations, it’s Edward’s turn to be Good Cop.

I take my seat in the chair above her where the view is perfect. Her nipples point like plump arrows toward me, but they won’t find purchase. Poor subbie, nothing will right now. “Eyes to the screen, princess.” She turns her head to the television. “Are you comfortable? How’s your neck?”

“Fine, Master.”

“Good, because I want you to give these orgasming ladies your full attention.”

I click the remote and fire up my “best of” female orgasms, a collection of five-minute clips with girls in heavy bondage celebrating their happy endings—loudly and enthusiastically. It only takes me one and a half on-screen orgasms to strain against my pants, and the swollen bud forcing its way through Isabella’s lower lips tell me she’s similarly inspired.

I lean over to twist her nipples between my fingers and temporarily distract myself from the on-screen action. “Are those dirty girls getting you all hot and bothered, princess?”

“Yes, Master, very much so.”

“Excellent. Then it’s time for you to make us some fajitas.”

Isabella giggles. “I’m sorry, Master. That is so not what I expected you to say just now.”

“I’m happy I can still surprise you! I’m leaving the spreader bar between your legs to keep you from accidentally rubbing your thighs together, so you’ll need to walk very carefully while you get used to it.” Unchained from the chair, she rolls onto her knees and then to her feet, taking a few ginger steps toward the kitchen.

Despite her bondage, she manages to heat up the remnants of the pain in the ass meal. I swear, there are ten separate Ziplocked ingredients to be managed. The tray remains impressively balanced as she carries everything to the coffee table and kneels at my feet to serve me.

“My little geishariña,” I say while she assembles my first fajita and brings it to my mouth. I take the first delicious bite and she smiles at my pleasure. She adjusts the tortilla around the fillings and waits patiently until I’m ready to take my second bite.

“Napkin,” I direct her, and she wipes my mouth. I swallow down the last bites of the fajita and lick the juice from her fingers.

“How do you like the soundtrack I’ve arranged for our lunch?”

“Really nice, Master. Thank you,” she grins, peeking at the screen while filling my second fajita.

“I knew you’d like it,” I say, my words muffled by the delicious mouthful of food. “Okay, sweetheart, I’m good for now. Make one for yourself and I’ll feed it to you.”

“Thank you, Master.” She rolls her sandwich quickly, and I can tell she was hungry.

“I think the fajitas were better the second time around; what do you think, princess?”

“I certainly enjoyed the way you fed me today, and I don’t have that nagging presence to distract me from the food…” She stops short of challenging me and smiles.

“You mean Garrett?” I tease.

“That, too. He wasn’t too bad last night, was he?”

“Nah. I give the guy credit for putting himself out there. He was much less hideous this time.”

Isabella smiles. “People have a way of finding their best behavior around you, Master.”

I nod. “As long as you do, princess, that’s enough for me.”

“I try.”

“So far, so good. I don’t suppose you’ve figured out today’s theme?”


“You’re making me wait for my story, I made you wait for lunch. And as soon as you’re done cleaning up, you’re going to take care of my needs while yours wait…indefinitely.”

She smiles at me with perfect understanding. “That will be my pleasure, Master.”

Damn, I believe her, too. She’d asked to experiment with denial, and I’m pleased she’s not becoming resentful with the reality. In fact, she continues to be convincing a bit later, stretched along the couch, pleasuring me with her mouth.

My hand slides along her back to the perfect sway of her bottom. Isabella responds to my touch by increasing her suction, but I warn her off. “I’m in no hurry, princess. Draw it out for me.”

I drop my head back against the couch and lightly grasp her hair so it’s not in the way. “Ahh, that’s nice, sweetheart. You’re so good at sucking me off.”

Poor thing groans at my dirty words and wiggles her hips against the cushions. “Better be careful with that grinding. You don’t have permission to come.”

She calms. I praise her and resume the filthy talk. By the time I blow my wad in her mouth, she’s moaning and humming around my cock. She turns her hungry eyes up to mine and for a moment, denying her feels impossible.

Luckily, the moment passes.

“I really hate taking this off you,” Master says, unclasping the chain at my waist. “It’s so much more powerful than the bracelet, don’t you think? Do you feel more owned in this?” He lifts his sated eyes to my hungry ones, still teasing me even though the scene is nearly over.

“Yes, Master.”

“Hmm, this would look even better with a charm hanging right here,” he teases, brushing his finger cruelly below my navel. “Princess…if lost, return to owner, Edward Cullen. Damn, that hard-on’s not going to do me any good at the gym.”

Nor me, I think, blinded by visions of Edward in his gym shorts with a stubborn bulge underneath—a bulge he’s already told me I can’t enjoy until after the Stupid Bowl.

“Before I uncollar you, I want to make sure you understand the rules for tonight. Repeat my directions please.”

“Once we get back from the gym, I’m allowed to…relieve myself with my fingers only, and only if I do it in front of you, but you’ve promised to make it worth my while if I wait for the end of the game.”

“Perfect.” He smiles and pulls me onto his naked lap. “Kiss me while I take this off.” I lean forward happily and occupy his lips until I feel the heavy velvet slide away from my neck. Our foreheads rest against each other and his voice is a soft murmur.

“I love you, Isabella.”

“I love you too, Edward.”

He slides his thumbs up my thighs and circles wistfully. “Better go get changed.”

I don’t see any reason at all to cause him a moment’s doubt. “Edward…”

“Yeah?” he sighs.

“I’m waiting… for you.”

His lips turn up and he bends forward to kiss me again. “That’s excellent news.”

I’d be the first to admit today is not my best workout. I’m distracted, to say the least. Edward takes every opportunity to touch me while moving through our parallel routines, to smile his dazzling smile from across the room, and to wink knowingly in a way that obliterates any concentration I can manage. By the time he asks me if I’m ready to go, I’m just relieved not to have dropped a barbell on my toes.

“What should we do for dinner tonight?” he asks.

“Anything delivered and not Mexican works for me.”

“Pizza and buffalo wings?” he asks hopefully.

“So much for the workout,” I chuckle.

“It’s the Super Bowl. Eating healthy would be downright unpatriotic!”

“I think you’ve been watching too many commercials.”

“If you ever hear me ask for Miller Lite, you’ll know my mind has been invaded by aliens. Marketing!” he huffs comically.

“Lowest of the low,” I play along.

“What kind of pizza do you want?”

“I’m kind of craving mushroom. Can we do half ‘shroom, half pepperoni?”

“Sure. Why don’t you get showered while I call it in?”

Edward is settled on the couch, fully engaged in pre-pre-game hype, when I emerge from my shower. His third costume change of the day consists of his DeSean Jackson jersey over a pair of seriously lived-in jeans. My eyes are riveted to the light-colored shreds and gaping hole just above his knee and I have to worry at my overpowering urge to poke a finger inside and tickle him.

“Pizza’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” he throws his voice over his shoulder without moving his eyes from the TV.

“Great. Can I get you a beer?”

“Sure, that would be—holy shit! Where’s the rest of your uniform, woman?”

My delight in surprising him is second only to the thrill of making his jaw drop open. I can only giggle in response as I move to the kitchen to grab us a couple Buds. From the way his eyes follow me all the way there and back, I can tell I’ve aroused his interest—and his libido. He licks his lips as he accepts the beer, and I climb over his lap, careful to brush my bare legs against his soft denim. He continues to watch me in reverent silence as I perch against the opposite arm of the couch and pull my legs up onto the cushion next to me. I catch his eyes dropping to the edge of the jersey he bought me for our Monday night football outing.

“Sweet Jesus, no underwear?”

I give my head a quick sideways shake, doing my best to contain my glee.

Edward flops back and raises his exasperated eyes to the ceiling, forcing out a loud sigh. I extend my legs, flattening my feet against his right thigh, and open my laptop.

“Let me get this straight,” he says to the ceiling. “You are going to sit right there for the duration of the Super Bowl, wearing nothing but that flimsy little jersey, and write porn.”

“Except for when I’m eating pizza, yes, that’s pretty much the plan.”

Turning his head my direction, he reaches the hand not holding his beer into his lap and makes no attempt to hide his adjustment. “Well played, Isabella.”

Fine. She wants to wave her bare bottom around, I will just go about my business—drinking beer, swearing at Manning, yelling at Brady, and not dwelling on that occasional flash of pink that catches my peripheral vision.

In fact, I take the first commercial break to email her father.

To:  Charles Swan
From:  Edward Cullen
Date:  February 5, 2012
Subject:  Vacation plans
Attachment: stluciaitin.htm

Isabella asked me to forward you our itinerary (see attached).

On the subject of our vacation, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you.
If you could find ten minutes in your schedule this week, I’d be most appreciative.

I trust you’ll keep the contents of this message between us.


Take THAT! I admonish the creamy thighs that open and close, the knees that sway gently but ensure my concentration is divided, the busy fingers that tap away their naughty words on the keyboard. Yeah, who am I kidding? My revenge is no match for her charms.

Funny thing is, by the second half, I’m pretty sure Isabella’s little plan is backfiring on her and my girl is venturing deep into Hornysville. Just to confirm my suspicions—and not, mind you, because I can’t keep my hands off her—I drop my fingertips to her ankle and let my thumb draw lazy circles over her skin. I meet her eyes as they peer over the top of her screen, and I take a long draft off my beer. By the end of the third quarter, that hand has traveled to the back of her knee, but the Patriots are still ahead of the Giants. Life is good.

With five minutes left in the fourth quarter, I ask her how the writing is going, and she smiles and tells me she’s finished the chapter. “Come up here then and watch this with me. Looks like the Pats are gonna need our help.”

She places her laptop on the table, settles in next to me, and allows me to lift her thigh onto my lap. I’m mostly watching the action in Indianapolis, but my hand settles on her knee and starts a painstaking yet steady journey up the inside of her thigh. “So you’re a Pats fan now?” she asks.

“No, I’m an Eagles fan, now and always. The Patriots are simply the lesser of two evils.”

Isabella accepts my logic. When the two minute warning is announced, she notes the narrow margin and says, “Wow. I thought Super Bowls were supposed to be runaways.”

I chuckle darkly. “They usually are. Okay, if the Pats score a touchdown here, they’ll have a nine-point lead and I can breathe for a second.” Brady lets loose a shaky pass to Welker. “C’mon, Wes! Oh…crap. Jesus, the guy was picture perfect all season! Seriously?”

“That didn’t seem like the receiver’s fault,” Isabella states calmly.

“No, it was a crap pass. It’s just that Welker’s been making miracles happen all season.” I’m howling at Brady and Belichik and Welker, but we all have to gather our wits. This game is not over.

“All right, all right, we’re still in the lead. As long as the Giants don’t…oh fucking Manning …no, no, no…shit!” I watch helplessly as the Giants score a touchdown to take a four-point lead with just under a minute left. Isabella’s leg is the only thing that holds me in my seat. Before the punt, I gently slide her knee off my lap so I don’t accidentally break her leg.

“Come on, you guys!” I watch with a growing pit in my stomach as the Patriots are stopped short of a first down, bringing them to fourth down at midfield. I’m on my feet, pacing. “This is it, Isabella. They’ve got one play left…it’s gotta be a Hail, Mary pass…Brady’s got it…oh no, it’s tipped…wait, Gronk’s there…he’s…oh fuck.”

Stunned, I drop back into the couch and stare at the screen with disbelief. The Giants are jumping on top of each other and lifting Manning onto their shoulders and there goes the Gatorade…Jesus.

“I cannot believe I just watched that train wreck. I’m glad I’m not an actual Patriots fan today. That would suck ass.”

Isabella’s fingers play at the large tear at my thigh, effectively bringing me back to reality and my priorities. My eyes slide over to hers. “Sorry, baby,” she says. “Is this going to be traumatic for you?”

“Not even a little.”

She slips her hand to the back of my neck and coaxes my head down to meet her face. “So, I might be able to distract you from your troubles?”

I turn my hips toward hers and lift both her legs onto my lap. “I’m almost sure you can.” I open my lips just in time to receive her kiss. My hands slide up her thighs and disappear under her loose jersey. She returns the favor by twisting her long fingers in my hair and tugging. Soon I’m feeling constricted by my boxers.

I pull back just far enough to say, “I seem to recall your promising me a story.”

Her eyelids appear suddenly heavy as they drop halfway, which has the exact opposite effect on my dick. Isabella leans forward and grabs her laptop. “How are we doing this?” she asks.

“Just exactly like this,” he answers, drawing my back to his chest, opening my thighs, and bending my legs at the knee on either side of his hips. “It’s perfect. My knees are free to hold your laptop and you can read to me while I finger you.”

“Oh my god, you can’t just say stuff like that!”

He chuckles as I open my blog…and my legs. “Why not?”

“It’s too matter-of-fact,” I decide. I turn my head as far as I can, which is only about ninety degrees before it’s blocked by his chest. “What about you?”

He slides one hand up the front of my shirt and palms my right breast. “I’ll get mine after you’ve had your turn; you’ve been waiting patiently all day.”

“Chapter nine…”

Edward laughs at my sudden dive into the story.

“She’s lovely,” declares a deep voice I don’t recognize. “May I touch her?”

Edward stops me as soon as I introduce the villain of the story—the unknown visitor. His fingers are resting at my abdomen, having just begun their descent toward my aching center.

“Your Dark Prince is going to share?” His voice reflects a fascination, an eagerness to know my story without judging its direction.

“Yes,” I answer.

He drops his lips to the base of my neck and kisses me gently. “Go on,” he urges, almost in a whisper.

“Of course,” Master answers. “She doesn’t bite.”

Edward chuckles into my neck.

“Beautiful rope work,” he says admiringly. “She’s really quite helpless, isn’t she?”

Master laughs again. “Is that not the point?”

“Yes, so it is.”

“Diabolical,” Edward says, his admiration evident in his voice.

His hands reach between my thighs and I twitch, rocking slightly on my belly on the cold floor but unable to do anything to prevent him from pushing two fingers inside me.

“Oh shit,” Edward groans, matching the action in the story with his fingers. “I wasn’t planning on going so rough with you tonight, but…what’s a guy to do?”

“She’s soaked,” he reports gleefully, thrusting and retracting his fingers harshly…

I gasp out loud at his sudden thrusting and retraction, damn my evil intruder. Edward pulls his glistening fingers away from my body, awaiting further fictional direction. How I wish I’d written, The stranger slams his thick fingers inside her again and again, drawing her thundering orgasm.

She’s ready when you are.”

When I reach the part about the opening being breached, Edward waits, listening carefully to the plot but ceasing to enact it. Instead, his fingertips leave feathery strokes down my center.

The intrusion is halted immediately, and Master’s voice is next to my ear, pushing hair off my face and gently soothing me.

“This is where I woke you?”

“Yes,” I answer immediately.

“Can you go on?”


“Wait for me outside,” Master commands the stranger. Then softer, to me, he says, “I’m taking out your gag.” His fingers work quickly at the buckle and soon, my tongue is freed. “Talk to me when you are able, princess.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“For what?” I can’t see his face with the blindfold still fastened, but his words are gentle.

“I just couldn’t. Not with him.”

Master rocks me backward and wraps his strong arms around me, folding me into his body. “You’ve been with strangers before. Why this time?”

“I think…it was just too much. Your voice wasn’t enough for me this time, Master. I’m sorry. I know I messed up.”

“Please do not apologize again.” Master’s lips brush my neck as he works out the solution. “I let him fill more of your senses than I did. That was my mistake.”

Relief courses through me. He’s not angry or disappointed. I haven’t failed today.

“Isabella,” Edward interrupts insistently. “You haven’t failed—ever. And you most certainly have never disappointed. You know that, right?”

I twist my neck so I can see the intense stare I know is waiting for me. He’s so fierce and so beautiful. “I’m getting there, Edward; I promise.”

He lifts one hand to the side of my face. “How much longer is this chapter?”

“Another couple pages. Do you not like it?” It would be the first time he’d ever expressed feeling that way about my writing, and I’m preparing to be crushed.

“Of course I like it. I just want to reassure you…with my body.”

I am so ready for his body on mine I might weep if it doesn’t happen soon. “So, am I stopping or what?”

“Are you kidding? The suspense is killing me. I’m dying to know how the Dark Prince solves the problem!” His eyes shift to the screen. I take the hint and continue—quickly.

… “Are you able to try again or should I excuse my guest?”

“I can do it, Master.”

“Good girl,” he says, surprising me with a rough kiss. “Your blindfold will stay on, but the gag is out, and you will have more of me.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Get on all fours and wait for my return.”

I track Master’s footsteps to the door, and soon the two men return.

“Princess,” Master says, and I feel him position his unclothed body between my hands and knees, “Lower yourself onto my cock.”

“Yes, Master.” My hand is skilled at locating him and I ease him into my body.

“Now,” he commands, and I feel the intruder’s thighs brush against my own, two unfamiliar hands spread open my cheeks. I let out a gasp, and Master grasps me firmly at my waist.

This is a rough scene she’s written—a forced double penetration with an unknown second man. Isabella is working out her demons here.

“You are mine,” Master affirms. “Mine, mine, mine.” The stranger works his lubed-up finger back into my hole. Master raises his hips and grinds when his entire cock is swallowed up by my body. “Who does that ass belong to, princess?”

“You, Master. It’s yours.”

“Damn right.” The stranger presses his tip inside me. Master slides his thumb to my clit. “Who does your pleasure belong to?”

“Only you, Master.”

The man behind me grunts with the effort of sliding in gradually, dipping and pumping. He’s entering me carefully so he’s not asked to leave again.

I press my thumb to Isabella’s clit and pump her with two fingers while she continues reading the scene. Isabella’s a bit breathless but she manages to read through my heavy petting to the end of the story.  Much of her language comes directly from last night’s scene—she talks about pressure and moaning and tightness—adding feeling so dirty to be fucked by two men at once and how grateful she is for her Master as he brings her off and releases inside her.  Mystery man slips out and away, and the end of the scene is a touching depiction of the princess tucked securely against the Dark Prince’s naked body on the concrete floor.

“That was hot.” My critique is ridiculously simple, but my brain can barely function right now. A threesome is absolutely out of the question for us, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a really filthy fantasy about it, courtesy of my submissive girlfriend, porn writer extraordinaire. “You better move that laptop before I break it into a million pieces.”

Isabella giggles and quickly shuts the computer and moves it to the table. I let out a growl and stand up, lifting her with me until I can properly throw her down along the cushions. I’m more than a little impressed with my own restraint; I actually think I could have come in my pants if we’d kept that up, not that I’ve done that since my teens.

In no time flat, I’ve got her ankles next to her ears and my face between her legs. I moan out loud at her taste; my girl is deeply aroused and I’ve been playing in her juices for a good ten minutes. She gasps as I nibble at her clit and giggles when I swipe my tongue along her opening.

Lower and lower I go, tonguing the smooth pink flesh and lapping up her distinctive flavor. She squirms under my mouth, and I tease her with warm air and feathery light caresses. Isabella lifts her hips impatiently, her whole body begging for release. One meaningful rub and she’ll be gone. But first…an unexpected reward for my girlfriend.

Lower still, my tongue slides below her pussy, slathering the hairless expanse that leads to this spot that has become the focal point of the weekend, by her own choice. Unsure of my motives, she jumps, and I reassure her with two steady hands just inside her widely-spread thighs. My thumbs trace firm circles along the path as my mouth moves lower, lower, until reaching my ultimate goal.

“OHMYGOD!” She tenses as the tip of my tongue reaches her wrinkled skin. Her hand flies down and flails wildly in my hair, which wouldn’t bother me so much except that it allows her leg to flop free. Without stopping, I take her wrist and slide it back up to her ankle and hold it there until I’m sure she gets the message.

I coat her with my warm moisture and play at her opening with my tongue. Her muscles remain clenched until I slide my fingers up through her pussy. She moans and pushes her ass  into my waiting mouth. While her pussy throbs with the long-awaited release of her orgasm, I give her a sweet rimming.

Her ankles drop down next to my ears as she holds me against her pulsating body. I’m more than happy to stay where I am, but Isabella rakes her fingers through my hair and pulls my face up. “Holy hell,” she says, the widest grin breaking across her face. “Don’t you dare kiss me, but get up here now!”

I laugh as she yanks me up by my armpits and wraps her legs around my back. It takes me all of three seconds to scurry out of my jeans and boxers and push inside her. As requested, I keep my lips off hers, but she doesn’t complain when I nibble on her ear as I come hard and fast inside my girlfriend, the boys of the gridiron long forgotten until next year’s draft.


  1. Holy hell, born! Ungghh! THAT's what I'm talking about, woman!

    Okay, now that I've got that out of my system, on to the real review. As much as I enjoyed them scening (secretly) in front of Angela and Garrett, I enjoyed this one ten times better. There's something about the two of them in scene alone that just flat out does it for me. The magic of the Dark Prince and his Princess really came through here. I loved how she took her dream and wrote it into her chapter. And when the dream turned disturbing, her Master was right there to soothe her fears. I was also glad to have confirmation that the extra person was only fodder for the fantasy, and not really a desire for either of them. (I can't help but wonder if the mystery man in her dream might have been someone that they both know... cough... Marcus... cough)

    Does that ever happen to you (dreams giving you ideas for chapters)? Unfortunately, my dreams have never been that titillating.

    Well done!

    1. Gumi,
      I'm SO pleased you liked this one and understood that the fantasy is NOT really a desire for either of them. Her fictional Dark Prince has always been Bella's private place to explore the darkest side of her fantasies, and now that she has her real live Master to enact all her truest desires, she can let her imagination run even deeper in that safe place (though the "dream/nightmare" did invade her sleep enough to disturb it!). I know I have some fantasies in the dark recesses of my kink factory that titillate me as ideas, but I have zero desire to act upon them. Some of them have even made it into this story! ;) As for my dreams inspiring my story, yes, and happily it works the other way as well! In an upcoming chapter, you'll hear in shePOV how Bella's fantasies inspire her RL sex and vice versa. That is more often the way things work here at Kink Central.

      Thanks so much for your support and insights!

  2. mmmm, and now during the Super Bowl next week all of us watching will be secretly thinking about wearing a chain around our waists and a strong dominate partner watching it with us...sigh. While I am cooking chicken wings, and fried cheese and spinach dip I am going to be giggling like the fool I am thinking about these two lol. Good stuff with the dreams v. reality. Reality is so awesome for her that her dreams let her go deeper. So glad she has a creative way to let it all out of her system too. Edward is so good at grasping what she needs v. what is just a fantasy too. Love his email to Charlie. Looking forward to that conversation. Boyfriend Edward...the hero...brings it home, sigh. I can't decide which persona I love more.
    Great Chapter Born. Love It!

    1. don't have to decide. She gets them ALL! Yay her!

      I hope your Super Bowl is a really sexy fun time!

  3. What a chapter! Bella's dream upset me even though I knew Edward would never break his "no sharing" promise. (I'd love for a Gestalt therapist to delve into Bella's dream.) It was reassuring to have them both talk this out, and of course, Edward's care and concern reminded me that his primary focus is always Bella.
    This whole chapter just seemed to bring them closer than ever, especially when Bella shared the chapter with Edward after the game. By the way, you did an admirable job capturing Edward's frustration while watching the game. It sounds a lot like my house on Super Bowl Sunday. And I just loved that Brady's last pass was foiled. May it come true on game day!
    I am looking forward to Edward's conversation with Charlie. THAT should be see Master a little nervous. Once again, Born, fabulous job!

    1. It already came true exactly that way on game day last year. :(

      Have to say, the convo with Charlie was one of my favorite scenes to write. Hope you'll like a couple more chapters!

      Hmm, another person upset with Bella's dream. I wonder why. I think if she'd remained upset, she would not have written it into her chapter that way. She's just working it all out through the kink worries! xx

  4. Hey, b.


    That was hot.



    Seriously. I like how it depicts that people can have fantasies or think something is hot when they read it, but it doesn't mean they want to do it in real life.

    I love her dark prince. I'm so glad she hasn't given him up.

    Can't wait for more, b. I imagine you'll hav some readers watching the Super Bowl in nothing but a jersey Ina couple weeks! (Next week??!)

    Love you!

    1. Well now, maybe I'll start a little jersey revolution. Not me though, one of our birdies is flying back to the nest briefly! Get it- BRIEFly?

  5. Fantasies, great aren't they, that one was hot! xx J-R-E

  6. Born you are amazing as always!

    I'm with Vickie, Super Bowl will have a new meaning now...lmao

    I'm super excited for Edward/Charlie talk and Vacation. Please hurry up and get there!

    Any chance we get sneak peek of future chapters? OR how much longer are you going with this? I hate to have it end but we all know it's inevitable right?

    Keep up good work, look forward to next week ;-)

    1. Sneak peeks? What is this of which you speak? Nahhhh. Stay tuned, baby!

  7. I do wonder if her dream has anything to do with Marcus, like her subconscious is going back to being at his house. I know neither one wants to share, but dreams do come true in some form or another.

    Gotta give these two credit, they certainly know how to enjoy a Super Bowl Sunday! It seems that maybe a certain opening may be moving to a different column on the limits list. She did seem to enjoy what he did and I can't blame her for saying not to kiss her right then!

    That was hot my dear! Excellent chapter!


    1. Happy you enjoyed that! I definitely think Isabella's dreams and fantasies serve a purpose...same as they do for me. You can think, dream, write whatever you please knowing it won't happen unless or until you pull the trigger. Loads of things are meant to just stay in our heads, and I like to give HER a safe way to have fun with those ideas! ;)

  8. Poor Edward...the Eagles have been hopeless for quite some time. It's the Philly media that does it to them. I have a theory. Every season, when they happen to win one or two games the idiot broadcasters in Philly say something to the effect of, "Today's win and the road to the Superbowl!" And that right there does it. Mid-September they've cursed the team and they have no hope of winning the big game. Edward should get on board with the only NFC East who usually has a shot. *cough*NY*cough* :D

    Anywhoooo, I was sorta saddened by her dream. I don't love that her DP shared her, but if that was listed as something to try on her checklist, then so be it. I'm just glad to know that Edward won't ever share Isabella. #alwaysapurist

    Hot as ever.


    1. Her fictional princess's checklist has all kinds of stuff on it that Bella's doesn't. That's the fun of making up characters! ;)

  9. Oooh St. Lucia! Edward knows how to show a girl a good time! ;)
    Loved the chapter, and I love how they could explore a possible fantasy without breaching any of their personal limits. Sometimes reading or imagining something is as far as you want a certain fantasy to go! Thanks for the chapter :)

    1. I have picked out a lovely place for them on the island!
      Glad you enjoyed and thanks for the comments.

  10. Not gonna lie, I loved that you had to write about the Giants beating the Pats. I imagine this line "As long as the Giants don’t…oh fucking Manning …no, no, no…shit!” may have been said at your Super Bowl party!

    It's good to know that Edward has no intentions of sharing her, but I like that she fantasizes about it. It makes for some interesting dreams!

    Thanks for sharing and I think it's going to be a good Super Bowl next week.

    1. There was no party, Jayme. We were THERE, watching, and it was hideous. HIDEOUS, I tell ya. Grown men were weeping. Nobody I married, thank the heavens! I agree about dreams. I have a few myself. ;)xxx

  11. Good god I'm glad I waited till the kids weren't here to read, cos they'd be asking me why I looked so hot n bothered. Great update Born. I loved their scene together, and how Bella's dream ended up such a hot chapter. It was great that when she had to write beyond what she'd dreamed, she had princess succeed instead of failing. Though I also prefer that Bella won't be shared. And wow! When Edward threw her down and continued the theme, just wow! Loved it. xx

    1. So happy you enjoyed it, Lisa. My kids are so used to me looking that way, there's just a whole lot of head-shaking going on Chez Halloween!

  12. Another touchdown! As a native San Franciscan, I do take exception to not having the Niners in the Superbowl ;)

    1. It's LAST YEAR'S ACTUAL SUPER BOWL! If I were going to make it up, the Pats would've won the thing!

  13. well now i will have very different thoughts watching the game this coming sunday
    not that my thoughts aren't naughty to begin with but now...damn boh!

    wow, i'm shocked that bella wrote that scene out, but the way that i see it, they would never do that in their RL relationship as master/sub and the mystery man could easily be the plug

    very interesting, nothing like a good orgasm to help you forget a bad sporting event ;)

  14. You know I'm surprised that Bella didn't lose her balance walking around with the spreader-bar on!! I WOULD HAVE definitely fallen at least that great with my balance sometimes!! I like Bella's thinking in making Edward wait to hear her story when he was watching his game!!! A bit of a distraction for him??
    Didn't think Master Edward ever had any intentions of SHARING Isabella with anyone else...
    I'm trying to also picture how Edward had her sleeping in bed while tied up.. Obviously it was on her stomach..but thinking her hands were tied at the wrists and behind her back??Or did he really have her hog-tied together?? :) Hope she has a good back..I can't sleep on my stomach much, and when I can it's only for a few minutes....due to spine alignments not just in the right place
    Lovely chapter and just the right amount of playtime!! I see that there are 2-Jennifer's here leaving also go by Fallingsnow Winter otherwise...
    Thank you to the lovely and as always exciting Miss Born..See you next chappie..

  15. Oh my my my Born! You really know how to get a girl worked up! Whew!
    All around this one was hot! Even when she "safe balled". She did what she needed to to feel comfortable. An boy oh boy did dark prince make her feel good!
    Master made her feel wanted and needed, while Edward made her feel amazing beyond belief! I just adore how they come out if a scene!
    Now, I can't wait for Edward and Charlie to have a talk! St. Lucia- aaahh!
    "Don't you dare kiss me...." LOL!
    Loved it born!

  16. yeah... okay... wow... that was rather intense and extremely hot.
    good one my friend...
    and yes I know I suck at reviews.

  17. I can't think of a single original thing to say here so maybe I'll stop right here for now. Just wow. I love how his choice of clothing seems to parallel, or indicate, what kind of scene will take place. Her dream, along with the chapter it was incorporated into, reveals fears? why would she dream and write about something that won't happen in RL? Is that the point? living vicariously through dreams of forbidden acts.....maybe not forbidden but at least squicky to her? IDK, Born. This was all so tantalizing. I need a break, though, so will be back tomorrow....or later tonight.

    1. That's why I write the stuff, so yeah, why not?
      You need a break from the hotness? LOL
      Okay, you're almost done, Judy!