Welcome Home| AS SEEN IN WISTERIA MOON BY TILLY RIVERS, COPYRIGHT 2006|
As she turned her key in the front door, she sighed. It had been a long tour and she was so tired! The front door swung open and she slid out of her pumps in the small entryway, tossing her bags and jacket carelessly onto the floor.
She stepped around the corner into the living room, surprised to see the burning candles scattered throughout the room.
A small smile lit her face as she continued on to the dining area; the table that had been covered with paperwork the morning she had left was cleaned and set for two, again with scented candles flickering.
She peeked into the kitchen and there he stood, wearing torn faded jeans and a cream-colored sweater, at the stove stirring something that smelled delicious. “Mmmm, this is a surprise. What is it all about?”
He turned to her and wrapped his strong arms around her frame, enfolding her into a warm embrace. His voice tickled against her ear as he whispered, “All of this is because I missed you more than anything and I wanted to make sure you knew that.”
His lips moved over hers and kissed her, slow and deep, with a passion that emphasized his words, echoing within her cavity how much he had missed her; missed them.
Her body instantly responded and she pressed herself closer. His subdued groan vibrated against her softness and warmth while his cock hardened almost immediately.
They had both been apart too long. At times he thought of her as a mystical ghost, here brief moments before gone again.
Stroking her back in firm long caresses, gently kneading her shoulders down to the small of her back only to return up the same path of sensuality he was creating with his eager touches.
She let her hands smooth over the sleek muscles of his back, savoring the potency that exuded between them. She had missed this so much! It felt like forever had passed since they had actually spent any time together. Her eyes closed and she returned his impatient kisses with ones of her own.
All too soon he gently pulled away, brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face. “I made chicken and salad. Let’s enjoy the meal so we can then enjoy each other.”
She didn’t care about the food he was offering. Her appetite was for his naked flesh upon hers; to feel his hard cock once more rubbing against her thigh, her pelvis, strong evidence of how much he had missed her.
Yet he went to so much trouble. She smiled, placing her desires on hold. Closing her eyes she sent up a mental wish for the food to be consumed quickly so she could feed her true hunger.
They sat down together and ate their dinner talking about all of the things that they had fallen behind on with each other. Each phrase, each syllable was marked with tiny touches, knowing glances, waiting for the true quest to start.
Her lust pounded in her ears all but drowning out everything except the ache to be touched. She watched his intense eyes as he spoke, remembering, wanting them to turn as dark now as they did when he first slid his hard cock deep into her swollen wet pussy walls.
His voice created shivers slowly crawling down her back, each vocal finger a delicate brush of erotic torture. Gooseflesh beaded on her ivory skin.
“Sweets, are you cold?” As soon as the words left his mouth he understood, taking an arm around her body, he pulled her into his lap.
Through the satin of her dress she could feel the heat of his arousal; the matching hunger that was burning, hidden under the table from her gaze.
He dropped his head to the back of her neck and began nibbling it gently, his hand ran down her side, over her hip and thigh and then back up over her tummy and came to rest on her breasts.
He was now kissing the side of her neck as he let his hand roam over her breasts, tenderly cupping and squeezing them, gliding his palm over her erect nipples through the covering of her garments. He was pinching them gently at first, then harder with each brush of his hand.
She moaned deep in her throat as she felt her pussy flood with warmth and moistness at his touch. She squirmed slightly as her naked cunt craved the hardness beneath her.
He urgently turned her, spreading her legs wide on either side of him. The deep moan that escaped his mouth was stopped as her lips found his.
He cupped her pussy in his hand before piercing her searing heat with his fingers. Her hips bucked up to meet this new pleasure and he smiled down at her. “Do you want me to show you how much I missed you?” he whispered into her ear, moving his fingers and jean-clad cock into her aching wet pussy walls.
She was incapable of speech; to utter a word of intelligent response was eaten with raw waves of need. Instead, she pulled his lips into hers, kissing him with the fierce desire that burned within her.
He pulled her off, needing more room to explore her body, more room to touch and be touched as they both craved.
Quick urgent movements, desperate steps led them to the floor between the kitchen and bedroom before they gave in to their need. He moved down her body, trailing his mouth along her inflamed form.
Her dress was no longer a delicate decoration but an obstacle that needed to be removed. Now.
The quick rips of the material echoed in the air, only to be swallowed up with more sounds of deep breathing and moans; codes of words only deciphered by the lovers.
He took one and then the other of her nipples into his mouth, suckling and teasing them through the silkiness of her bra. As he moved down her tummy, he jerked the remaining parts of her dress in half, exposing her smooth pussy to his hungry gaze.
The scent of her arousal was intoxicating. He had missed her so, and now all that he wanted to do was to bring her pleasure. Pleasure for both of them, until the walls echoed with the screams, until the voices blended and they no longer know which one belonged to the other, nor cared.
“Your scent drives me mad, the way you see things, the way you think, the way you move, turns me on more every day.” His words were rough whispers against her center before he dropped his face to her wet cunt.
He breathed her in, letting his tongue trace a path from her hard clit down between her engorged lips to her hot and wet hole. He licked and sucked at her flesh, savoring the taste, feel, and smell of juices.
His tongue swirled gently around her clit, causing her to buck her hips against his face. Only then did he work his way back down to her opening.
He thrust his tongue as deep inside of her as it would go and began caressing the innermost regions of her core. Her hands clutched his head in desperation. Pleasure was swirling and she knew that she would coat his face with her juice. A few more skillful strokes of his tongue and she exploded into a climax that shook through her entire body. He greedily licked and sucked every drop of her cum.
She pulled him back up to her face and met his kisses with her own. She licked at his lips, slick and sweet with her own juice.
She loved tasting herself on him and sighed with pleasure. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her still throbbing pussy and spread her legs slightly to urge him into her.
Their eyes met as with one powerful stroke he filled her body with his own. In his eyes she saw what he professed, mixed with want and need. In her eyes he saw the passion that was her promise to consume their bodies.
His thrusts were deep, slow strokes at first, relishing the wet hotness that he had given her with his mouth.
Her pussy generously clenched his cock. With every stroke she felt their blended pleasure winding up tighter. Wrapping her arms around him she encouraged him as he began to increase his rhythm, pounding her to him harder with each thrust.
He clutched her body to him with a hand protectively under her head as he hammered harder, in and out of her. Their breathing had become quick and shallow until they were no longer breathing air but the essence of the other.
With one last thrust she felt his hot load fill her well as his cock pulsated with each burst. She smiled and he held her tighter.
“Welcome home, baby.”
By Tilly Rivers
As seen in Wisteria Moon, © Copyright, Tilly Rivers, 2007
She stood against the black backdrop, dressed in a sheer white silk wrap top the low cut design showing off her tanned cleavage. The matching white silk shirt hit her thighs emphasizing her long tanned legs. Burgundy leather wedge sandals matched the cropped boxed leather jacket.
Her hair was up; wisps escaped the weave design, floating across her cheeks. The fan from the room gently touching, twirling with the delicate curls making the strands glide ever so slightly from time to time against her face, her throat, her chin.
She stood before the man behind the camera and did his bidding. Turning to the left as he directed, smiling on cue, moving her body ever so slightly. He would lower the camera from time to time and just look at her for a moment before shooting more pictures. The clicking noise, the fan, and the soft breathing of the two the only sounds in the room.
“We have been at this for awhile, are you getting tired?”
The sudden husky tones of his voice startled her and he laughed, “Sorry, it has been quiet in here.”
Quiet? Intense was more the word she would use. The passion, the love of his work created an almost touchable force. It wasn’t as if they could not speak, it was more they both knew they did not want to soil the air circling them with the idle small talk.
“Could I get you something? A glass of water or…”
“Or?”
“I have some wine upstairs in my fridge, I could run up and grab it.”
“Wine would be great, thank you.”
He tipped his head slightly before nodding his head once and disappeared up the stairs.
She took a moment to observe her surroundings. She liked the clean lines of the studio. Large black and white photos were displayed on the walls. Clean, naked décor, much like her own style. She heard him come back into the room. “I like the nudes, very nice. You have managed to capture illusion of sensuality very well. Making the photo both very personal and distinctive.”
“Do you take pictures?”
She giggled, “Well I point and click. I take snap shots, you take pictures, they have impact, definitely the difference between an ordinary photo and compositional technique.”
She turned her head slightly looking over her shoulder at him. “I am not very photogenic, I think you may be testing your talent today.”
“Your gorgeous.”
“Hmmm, but some how that gets lost in the translation of the photograph.”
“You only need to develop visual awareness, eliminate the uncertainties.” He handed her the glass of red wine, “Center your efforts, essentially making it your own.”
She followed him over to the area where huge over stuffed cushions were thrown on the floor. “Sorry.” He apologized “Not much for seating arrangements.”
She winked “No worries. Looks very comfortable.” She sat, placing her glass of wine on the floor, and removed her sandals, and jacket. Her head came up, her eyes locked with his, “Do you mind?”
Her toes were painted a delicate nude colour to match her fingernails. He had noticed earlier, that and the toe ring with the matching ankle bracelet. His eyes burned into hers. He meant it when he had she was beautiful. He was having a hard time keeping this a professional photography session.
What he really wanted was to run his hands over her lush body and discover for himself if her skin was as soft as the silk next to it. “Let me take your picture like this, bare feet, wine, leaning against the cushions on the floor.”
Her body had teased and aroused him all afternoon until his control threatened to snap. One more murmur of sound, the slightest movement of silken limbs, and he would snap. God her legs were long, shapely- enticing until he was imagining them wrapped around his waist as she begged him for release.
“Here” he took one of her legs extending it in front of her, the other drawn up. Pulling her top slightly off one shoulder, he positioned her body to reveal the pale soft skin, her elbow bent, and her face resting against the bent elbow.
“Take one finger and languorous stroke it down until it rests just above your breasts.” he instructed her.
Jesus. Fuck. What was he doing? He grabbed his camera from the corner table, “driving himself mad” that is what, he cursed himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he chanted in his mind. SHIT! He watched as her finger slowly, softly traced a path from the bottom of her neck to the point just above her breast. The full globes making him sweat.
His camera clicked. She shifted her legs, ever so slightly lifting the skirt higher up her thigh, he swallowed the air in his lungs. There for his view was the tantalizing glimpse of the soft flesh of her outer pussy lips. Smooth vanilla satin.
“I’m sorry. Did I ruin your shot by moving?” Her voice circled, spun an enchanted until the aura raced up his spine. He blinked starting at her intense interested gaze. “Pardon?”
“You did not take another picture, did I destroy the pose by moving?”
Was she playing with him? Teasing him on purpose?
“Stick your finger in the glass of wine and rub it up your arm to your elbow.”
Test her. Lets play.
Her eyes snapped with challenge. Dipping her finger into thewine, she took her finger and traced the red liquid up her inner arm to her elbow, not stopping, she kept going up to the edge of her top.
“Fuck this.” He dropped the camera and crouched on his hands and knees before her, his tongue licking the wine off her arm. She smiled, placed her finger back in the glass, this time tracing the redness along where her stomach and leg meet. He licked her clean.
She moaned and shivered, turning fully onto her back, lifting her skirt higher up her thighs.
“All this fucking time, you had no panties on.” He kissed her inner thigh “Fuck” he muttered against her skin.
She sat up, placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down into the cushioned bed, her fingers made short work of his pants, and freeing the treasure she unburied.
Dribbling wine onto his aroused cock before licking it off. Sucking him slowly, her lips dragging down his shaft, tasting the wine and his flesh together as her lips savored him.
Placing his hardness between her breasts, sliding them up, down over his hard shaft, the moisture from her mouth his cock rubbing on her flesh. He tipped his head back, jerking his hips off the cushion as he heard her moan.
Sitting up he locked eyes with hers, fuck; she was waiting for him to watch her, wanted him to watch her licking him.
He watched as her eyes got wider, loaded with desire, saw the need, saw the craving within the depths.
He watched her eyes as she took his cock softly in her hands and rubbed the head on her closed lips. Back and forth. Precum soaking her mouth.
Her tongue licked the precum off her lips, ever so close to the tip of his cock, but did not touch him.
Mingled aromas of needed sexual release flared in his nostrils, his skin was on fire. Fuck, fuck.
“Jerk off for me. Jerk until your cock spills cum over my lips and onto my chin.”
“Fuck me!”
“What do you want? Do you want me to open my mouth? Or do you want to cum all over my closed lips and chin? Watch you’re cum drip on me?”
“Both.” His voice was husky
“Yes. At first on my closed lips, and as I open my mouth to taste you, to drink you, my tongue will lick off your cum.” She placed the head of his cock against her lips again, this time, flicking her tongue over his cock “I want to catch the fire as it drips from your head.”
With a low growl of restraint he turned his body and reversed the roles, pushing her onto the cushions. His tongue teased a path of lingering estacy between her inner thighs before cupping her mound. Slipping one elbow under her knee he caressed the fleshy outer lips.
Open mouth kisses pulling her into him. His tongue seeking and playing with her quivering bud, sucking her clit into his mouth. Her hips rotated, squirming under the pleasure his mouth was raining down on her quaking flesh. He tightened her legs around him.
A frantic need to replace his tongue that was now deep inside her pussy with his rigid cock created an almost painful arousal. He had to feel her silken walls clenching his cock, as they were right this moment clenching on his fingers, his tongue.
Fuck, in one movement he positioned himself over her body, lifting her legs over his shoulders, thrusting into her pussy hard, deep, one continuous ram of his cock inside her. She cried out, her pussy convulsed, contracted against his cock and he exploded his cum inside her.
She lay against the cushioned backdrop, her white silk wrap top twisted from their play, the matching white silk skirt high above her waist emphasizing her long legs, still wrapped around his body. Burgundy leather wedge sandals, in a pile a few feet away, the cropped boxed leather jacket long ago discarded.
“Let me take your picture like this.”
~~~~~~~~~~End~~~~~~~~~~
Salacious Offers Readers an Insight to Themselves
Tilly Rivers is not just another attractive blonde in a sea of beautiful women. She’s an award-winning writer that focuses on our most basic wants and needs. Rain Publishing is pleased to present her newest work, Salacious.
Burlington, (ON)- Tilly Rivers is not just another attractive blonde in a sea of beautiful women. She’s an award-winning writer who finds the way to focus you on your most basic wants and needs. Rain Publishing is pleased to present her newest work, Salacious.
A true maverick by her very nature, Tilly reaches out to her reader to help us find the secret garden of our heart and soul—the one where each of us go when we retreat into fantasies shared with no one else--and helps us to transform that spot into a destination for life and living.
Ms Rivers defies any easy pigeonhole for her skills, but in her tantalizing expressions of real life, she takes no prisoners in her writing, and—yes--the breathlessness reverberating around the world through her readers.
With her newest work, Salacious, she reaches new heights never before achieved in her previous offerings. Her skillfulness in weaving the storyline and developing an understanding of her characterizations is on display like never before. Her tales of fantasy touch the secret cravings within each of us so skillfully, so seamlessly, that her writing is seemingly blended into an impassioned flow of sensuality.
The 37 short stories in Salacious allow you to explore your deepest desires. If you crave the burn of passion through the eyes of others, and if your heart is up to the challenge, you have the opportunity to experience challenges never before known.
If you’ve had salacious moments, you will enjoy the stories that make this book a “must read.”
Wisteria Witch
By Tilly Rivers-2007
They can not resist her power
Crave the sexual sin
Her slaves
Her puppets
Hers to command
wisteria witch
A circle of pure blue fire
Surrounds her essence
They come from around the world
To catch a glimpse of her
Watch her
Wanting her
Men, women a like
Wanting the chance to touch
Wanting the chance to join
Starving wolves -staring
Waiting for her chance
They can not come without her invitation
They gather
They watch
As the wisteria witch dances
Spell of sexual sin
Beyond anything they will ever know
Touch
Dance wisteria witch
Who are you calling tonight?
Who will be the one?
You beckon in the circle
Who will be the one?
That licks, worships, drives inside you
They have gathered
They watch
As the wisteria witch joins with him
With her- them
Their bodies wither in desire
The air fills with lust
Needing to release the uncontrollable burning pressure
Sexual desire
The flames shoot higher
They watch her feed
Watch her power
Puppets
Slaves
For her sexual desires
Wisteria witch I am
Come watch
Dare to touch
Come gather
Who will I pick as my partner?
Discover sexual sin
The wisteria witch-I am