[Masturbation Monday] The Halloween Party

“Halloween is the one night a year when a girl is allowed to dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it!” – Mean Girls

A close up on a pair of red painted lips, half in shadow, for a Halloween erotica postThere was no getting away from it – my Halloween outfit was very slutty. Of course, that’s how I like it. I love my body, all 215lb of it, and any excuse to show it off to consenting viewers is alright by me.

My “Vampire” costume from Lovehoney was little more than a net dress that covered precisely nothing, and a cute little vamp cape to tie around my neck. I’d added some ceramic fangs, a generous dash of crimson lipstick, and a careful trickle of red food-colouring along my neck. Perfect.

Hours later, dancing at the party, I was glad that I was basically close to naked – fifty bodies in a house that’s really only big enough for ten gets very sweaty, very quickly. Not that I was complaining. Fifty of my sexiest friends (plus a few strangers) all crammed in very close proximity with each other? Yum. My outfit wasn’t even the sluttiest one there! Our host, Laura – sixty if she was a day – wore nothing at all but towering heels, a kitten-tail butt plug, and leather cat ears.

My wife, Beth, is less of an exhibitionist than me. Not the type to get her tits out in public. Even so, she looked ravishing in a corset, floor-length fishtail skirt, and a fascinator resembling a witch’s hat. She pressed her body close to me as we danced, occasionally leaning in to plant a kiss on my lips, hers becoming more and more stained with my ridiculous lipstick each time.

Emboldened by a glass of wine and the knowledge that it was the sort of environment where getting it on with my very sexy wife in semi-public wasn’t going to upset anyone, I slid my hand down the front of her skirt. She gasped and I watched her dark eyes widen.

Kissing her to swallow the moan, I slid two fingers all the way into her and curled them slightly, rubbing her G-spot. Breaking the kiss, she snaked her arms around my waist and threw back her head, eyes closing. The music covered her little noises of pleasure, but no-one who was looking could mistake the look on her face. My body pressed against hers, I fingered her deeply and slowly, in just the way I know she loves. In just the way I know makes her come uncontrollably. I felt her hips bucking slightly against my hand and another rush of wetness from her pussy. She came a moment later, kissing me and pushing her tongue into my mouth as she did. She tasted of red wine and sweat. God, I love you.

Her eyes sparkled as I licked her wetness from my fingers.

“My lipstick is all over your face,” I told her with a grin.

“Babe?” she said sleepily, much later, her head on my shoulder in the taxi home.

“Yes, love?”

“Did I mention I fucking love that outfit on you?”

Today’s Masturbation Monday is brought to you by Lovehoney’s Halloween range! Thanks to Lovehoney for sending me a piece to try. Grab yours now – with one day delivery, it’ll be here in time for the party! Affiliate links are contained within this post and purchasing through them sends a small commission my way.

Masturbation Monday is created and owned by Kayla Lords. Click the logo to see what everyone is getting off to this week!

Masturbation Monday: “Oral Service”

A white women's body, from the top of the chest down, sitting with one leg folded in and the other up and bent. She is wearing nothing but pink knickers. For a Masturbation Monday story called Oral Service

She’s a good girl. I tell her so often. It’s one of the many reasons I love her. She’s been serving me faithfully for years now, my girl, and it’s got so much better since we’ve both been self-employed and working from home.

Usually when we’re at home together, we work side by side in my home office. Well… I sit at the desk and she sits cross-legged on the floor by my side, laptop open in front of her. I like her to wear nothing but cute knickers and her collar. Sometimes not even that. She fetches me coffee when she takes a break from typing, knowing exactly how I like it – cream, no sugar unless I’m having a particularly stressful day, and served to me by a gorgeous kneeling service submissive. She glows with pride when I take the drink, take a sip, then stroke her hair and tell her she’s my good girl.

Sometimes, though, the service I require from her is more intimate than just fetching my drink. You see, I’m an erotica author by profession. I write about sex – hot, steamy, wild, kinky, queer sex – for seven or eight hours a day. And more often than not, I get really fucking turned on doing it.

“Girl.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Get to a good stopping place and tell me when you’re ready”. I am considerate of her work and always give her a reasonable time-frame to refocus her attention on serving me. A few minutes later, she tells me she’s ready.

“Good. Now come over here and get under the desk. This scene I’m writing has got me needing your lovely tongue”. I push my chair back to let her get into position under my desk. Then I move back towards her, flip my skirt up – I hardly ever wear knickers for exactly this reason – and offer my cunt to my eagerly waiting girl.

She runs the tip of her tongue against my labia, then pushes it into my cunt, tasting my excitement. Then she finds my clit and begins first circling it, then flicking it gently. I moan, my back arching, hands gripping the edge of the desk. Fuck, she’s good. She licks faster, lashing my sensitive clit with her tongue. She might be my submissive, but I am all hers when she pleasures me like this.

My legs are beginning to tremble as she brings me closer to orgasm. I know she feels it, because she clamps her mouth around my clit and sucks it hard. This always tips me over the edge. I reach under the desk and grasp a handful of her hair, using it to hold her pretty face in position as my cunt spasms and I come, hard, in her mouth.

As my orgasm subsides I release her and fall back in my chair, catching my breath.

She peeks out from under the desk and grins.

“Kiss?” she asks in that adorable voice that I can rarely say no to.

I lean down to kiss her, my girl. My good girl, still with the taste of my orgasm on her lips.

Masturbation Monday is created and run by Kayla Lords. This week’s photo is by the gorgeous and talented Marie Rebelle, who blogs at Rebel’s Notes. Click the logo to see what others are getting off to this week. If you enjoyed this piece, please consider supporting me on Patreon (where you’ll get #BonusSmut every Tuesday!) or buying me a coffee. 

#Smutathon2017: Rope Porn

We’re 8 and a half hours into #Smutathon2017 and I promised when we hit £700 that at £750, I’d share an extract from the story I’ve been working on in between blog posts. We were stuck at £745 for a couple of hours but our latest generous donor has given £100. Therefore, here is an extract from my work in progress. This takes place at a rope workshop on the first morning of ‘FetCon,’ a fictional BDSM/fetish conference.

A length of rope twisted into a heart. For a fiction extract for Smutathon.

Meet Allie and Libby…

‘God, I want to fuck you when I’ve got you like this,’ Allie growled into Libby’s ear. She twisted the rope in her fingers, eliciting a squeal of pleasurable pain. Libby was now nude except for her knickers, hog-tied on her front, arms in a reverse-prayer position behind her back and totally immobilised. Allie felt her cock twitch beneath her yoga pants. She could smell that Libby’s cunt was already starting to drip.

Libby let her face sink into the mat, relaxing into the rope as her body accepted the strain of the position and the tightness and slight scratch of the hemp against her skin. She breathed in the scent; a combination of natural fibres, sweat and lust that was found in – and only in – every rope room she’d ever been in. When she was in Allie’s ropes, everything else faded away. Nothing but the moment mattered.

Allie dared to trail her fingers across Libby’s arse and between her legs. Libby gasped and trembled, fighting in vain against the rope to push back onto Allie’s teasing, feather-light touch.

‘Oh, you want more?’ Allie murmured into her girlfriend’s ear. ‘You’re a little slut, aren’t you? Trying to hump my hand in a room full of people?’ Libby whimpered as the teasing hand was withdrawn. ‘Well, you’ll have to wait. We’ve got hours and hours left before I’m going to fuck you. If you’re lucky.’


Libby’s soaking cunt protested as Allie pulled her hand away. She writhed against the rope to no avail. Damn, but this woman knew how to get her into subspace in two minutes flat. Her whimper was rewarded with another twist of the rope, making it cut into the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.


‘Okay, everyone!’ The presenter – Mark, she thought his name was, Allie had quietly called him a ‘Domly Dom’ – called to the room. ‘Time to start untying your partners, and we’ll talk about how that went and move on to the next tie.’


As Allie slowly untied the ropes, she dragged them across Libby’s skin, allowing her to feel every inch of the fibre. Just when she’d untied a rope, she would wrap it around a different body part again suddenly and pull it tight, making Libby gasp. When the last length was tangled on the floor beside them, Libby relaxed into Allie’s arms and marveled at the way this woman could reduce her to a puddle with nothing but her ropes, hands and voice.

If you enjoyed this piece, please check out #Smutathon2017 on Twitter, read some of our other writers’ works, and donate to the amazing charities!