Friday, November 30, 2018

Te Amo (Friday Flash #33)

Yes, I know this week's Friday Flash "Amour" prompt is French. I'm not sure why that made me think dance, or tango, or developed into this. But it did, so I'm going with it. It's a small miracle I even managed to post twice in one week. "Te amo" is "I love you" in Spanish, by the way.

As always, please click on the badge below to read the other Friday Flash offerings!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Te Amo
By Ria Restepo
Copyright ©2018. All rights reserved.

We'd been doing the dance all night, a weird sort of tango with a room full of people separating us. His fiery gaze devoured my every movement as he barely spoke to this person or that person. They didn't seem to mind his lack of interest; they were just happy he paid them any attention at all.

Such was the effect of his devastating charisma. I was a victim of it too, of course. At least I tried to appear engaged with my conversation partner—smiling, nodding, ah-huh-ing when appropriate.

Every time I made eye contact with my temporary companion, I'd lose track of him. But I still felt the heat of him watching me, like fire licking my skin. When I looked up, he'd be closer. That was my cue to move on. I'd politely excuse myself and mingle in the opposite direction.

His eyes narrowed each time I put distance between us. He knew my game. Hunt and evade. Stalk and elude. There was a subtle rhythm to it—two steps closer, one step apart. He gradually got nearer, the predator tracking his prey.

The chase always thrilled me, made my heart beat faster, my sex slick and needy. He'd catch me eventually—because I'd let him. We both knew I'd willingly surrender; I craved his possession too much.

I'd intended to prolong it, even though my lacy panties were so saturated my wetness oozed down my thighs. However, a nice but chatty old lady was determined to bend my ear. I was stuck.

The back of my neck tingled right before his arm wrapped around my waist and I heard his deep voice for the first time since we arrived. "Would you excuse us?"

She blushed scarlet. "Certainly!"

He swiftly guided me out onto the terrace and into a dark, secluded corner. I welcomed the forceful way he shoved my back to the wall, his body dominating me, his blatant erection trapped between us.

"You were very naughty," he rasped in my ear. "Taunting me. Making me watch all those men drool over your tits."

"You picked the dress." A low-cut slinky black thing that clung to all my curves.

He growled before claiming my mouth in a fierce kiss. Desperate for him, I hitched my leg up around his hip, grinding my greedy cunt against his hardness. Just as eager, he ripped my panties away, freed his cock, then he was inside me, taking me hard and fast. Our passion was so impetuous and all-consuming we both came quickly.

Locked together, we held each other as our breathing calmed.

"Te amo."

It was the first time he'd said he loved me in any language.

My response was effortless and unwavering. "Te amo, tambiƩn."

I felt his lips curve into a smile against my neck.

"When we get home, I'm tying you to the bed so you're at my mercy for the rest of the night."

I moaned. "Just one of the many reasons I love you."

Monday, November 26, 2018

I Touch Myself (Masturbation Monday #221 & Wicked Wednesday #339)

Sometimes music and my writing go hand in hand. In fact, my story for Chemical [se]X Volume 2 was inspired by an Aerosmith song. While I was mulling over this week's Wicked Wednesday "Playful" prompt and the Masturbation Monday prompt, I came up with this idea. Very quickly, I knew the perfect song for it, the Divinyls "I Touch Myself," which is also the title. You can see the video for the song here:

Please click on the badges below to read the other Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday offerings!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Warning: Brief reference to Daddy Dom/little girl role-playing towards the end.

I Touch Myself
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2018. All rights reserved.

Normally, I'm pretty even-tempered with occasional bouts of playfulness that are downright mischievous. What inspired my wickedness that day I can't really say. I should have been editing my most recent story, but it's often tedious work. My mind wandered off to where it usually goes if given half a chance—dirty daydreams of him.

I was reliving our latest filthy adventure, getting more turned on my the second. Of course, he was at work and unavailable to satisfy my lustful urges. Being horny without the object of my desires around was usually a recipe for trouble. When left to my own devices, I can express my creativity in devious ways.

It occurred to me that I shouldn't be the only one aroused and a very naughty plan formed in my hormone fueled brain. I knew there'd be retribution later, but that only encouraged me.

Grinning like a fiend, I skipped off to our bedroom and stripped out of my clothes. In the closet, I found his discarded work shirt from the day before. His intoxicating scent still clung to it and I took a moment to breathe him in. Then I put it on, only buttoning it enough to cover the essentials.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I decided I needed something else. I immediately knew the perfect thing. I grabbed a pair of blue thigh-high stockings that matched his shirt and leisurely slid them on.

Wardrobe change complete, I went to the stereo, selected the perfect song, and grabbed the remote. I could feel my juices already flooding my cunt as I set up my laptop on the nearby kitchen table. Finally, I pulled one of the kitchen chairs a few feet away from the table and turned it around so the low-profile ladder back faced the computer.

Standing out of the laptop camera's line of sight, I started it recording, then hit play on the remote. My heart pounded with excitement as the music started. I tossed the remote aside and sashayed into the frame, mouthing the lyrics to the song.

I love myself, I want you to love me…

Hips swaying, I danced around the chair until I was standing in front of it. I pulled the clip from my hair, freeing it, so brown waves cascaded down around my shoulders. Then I slowly unbuttoned the shirt, but only let it fall open enough to display a narrow strip of pale skin between my tits all the way to my shaved pussy.

Holding the shirt over my breasts, I spun around the chair and sat down facing away from the laptop. Over my shoulder, I looked back at the camera just in time for the next line, trailing my hand down my neck.

When I think about you, I touch myself…

I twirled around to face the camera, straddling the chair. His shirt was completely open now, revealing my tits and my very slick sex. The back of the chair was low enough that I could lean forward so my breasts hung over the edge. I took both of them in my hands and fondled my ample flesh. Letting my head fall back, I moaned in pleasure.

Looking at the camera, I took my nipples between my fingers and squeezed them hard, gasping as jolts of sensation ripped through me. My aching clit demanded attention and I couldn't resist any longer. While one hand continued tormenting my nipple, I slid the other hand down my body to my drenched slit.

I close my eyes and see you before me…

My eyes were open, but I did imagine him sitting where the computer was, his eyes incandescent. I only rubbed my clit briefly, then went lower, coating my fingers in cunt cream. Ever so slowly, I brought them up to my mouth and licked them, savoring my tangy flavor.

When they were clean, I got them messy again so I could paint my slickness all over my impossibly hard nipple. I knew how much he loved that. I could easily picture his nostrils flaring with lust as I repeated the enticing show on the other nipple.

A fool could see just how much I adore you…

That was so fucking true. Only for him would I make such a display—push aside all my inhibitions and dare to be bold. I trusted him more than I had anyone else.

I'd had enough teasing and delved my fingers between my wet cunt lips. Circling my clit again and again, I panted, my breathing getting heavier as my pleasure built. In my head, I saw him stroking his cock as he watched me. I loved watching him pleasure himself, seeing his hard shaft in his firm grip as he worked it from base to tip. 

I don't want anybody else…

Crying out, I came so fucking hard, my orgasm tearing through me so violently I barely remained in the chair.

When I came back to earth, I got up, sauntered over to the laptop, and stopped the recording.

Before I could reconsider, I sent him the video with the heading, "Watch me."

For five long minutes, I worried my lower lip as I waited for his response. Finally, it came:

You made me fucking hard.

I couldn't stop the wide grin from spreading across my face.

Right before a meeting!


Later I'll show you what happens to naughty girls that tease Daddy at work.

I was useless for the rest of the day, imagining how he'd make good on his delicious threat. With him, the possibilities were endless. I knew I'd be begging before the night was over and I couldn't wait.

Monday, November 19, 2018

Just Listen (Masturbation Monday #220 & Friday Flash #32)

I'm thrilled to finally announce that my story "Eminent Domain" will be included in The Sexy Librarian's Dirty 30 Volume 3 edited by Rose Caraway. What makes it even sweeter is that I'll be burning up the pages with my Chemical [se]X Volume 2 sisters, Rachel Woe and Doctor J. It's coming out Spring 2019, so it's going to be a very busy and sexy 2019! You'll be reading more about it in the coming months, but until then I have another wicked morsel for you.

This was mainly inspired by this week's Friday Flash prompt, "Listen," along with some Masturbation Monday. Although the picture F. Leonora Solomon provided is lovely, it was the word that got my juices flowing. So much so I stayed up way too late last night writing this.

Please click on the badges below to read the other Masturbation Monday and Friday Flash offerings.

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Just Listen
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2018. All rights reserved.

Fleeing my family's incessant questions about college and my recent breakup, I sought sanctuary in my untouched teenage bedroom.

Sighing, I collapsed onto my bed and stared at the ceiling plastered with rock band posters. I needed music.

I fished my phone from my jeans pocket, plugged in my headphones, and hit play. The warm, rich voice of my singer-songwriter neighbor filled my ears. Turning my head, I looked out the window facing his house.

Unable to resist, I got up and walked over, easily seeing into his home office/studio. Before I could wonder if he was out on tour, he was there, as hot as ever in torn jeans and a faded T-shirt. His brown hair was longer than the last time I'd seen him and unreasonably sexy.

Smiling, he waved at me.

I waved back and sent a text:

Love the new album. Listening to it now.

He reached for his phone, typed something, then put it to his ear.

My cell rang, interrupting his music. I knew who it was before I answered.

"Home for the holidays?"

"Yes. And finding solace in your music."

"What do you like most about it?"

"Your voice. Always, your voice."

"Is that so?"

"Mmm-hmm." I only paused a second. "Can I make a confession?"

"Of course."

"Sometimes, late at night, when I'm in bed…I listen to you."

He sucked in a breath. "Just listen?"

"No, I get so lost in your voice, your music, I just have to…"


"Touch myself."

Even from a distance, his gaze was scorching. "How?"

"I start with my breasts—"

"Tits. Always use dirty words."

My heartbeat quickened, raw heat unfurling low in my belly. "I fondle my tits."

"Show me."

Not thinking twice, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt and spread it open, revealing my white lacy bra. I opened the front clasp, freeing my tits, then cupped one in my hand.

He groaned. "So fucking perfect."

I captured a nipple between my fingers. "I love squeezing them hard. Makes me so fucking wet."

"Are you wet now?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Get your fingers slick with cunt cream."

Everything about this set my blood on fire—finally enacting my wildest fantasy, the filthy words, his wicked commands—so I didn't hesitate.

As I yanked open my jeans, he did the same, unleashing his hard cock. As my hand slid down inside my panties, briefly teasing my aching clit before delving into my sopping slit, he fisted his shaft. As I displayed my messy fingers, he worked his cock in long strokes.

"Taste yourself."

I hummed with pleasure, savoring my tangy fingers.

"Get your horny cunt off."

My hand was quickly back inside my panties, furiously fingering my clit.

"Come for me. Now."

And I did, so hard I collapsed against the window, panting. His grunts filled my ears as he splattered the window with his come.

"Hearing you come was the best music ever."

"You'll get an up-close-and-personal performance soon."

"Can't wait."

"Until then, just listen."

Thursday, November 15, 2018

His White Iris (Friday Flash)

I know I've been kind of quiet recently. There's been a lot going on—some of it exciting, some of it more challenging than I'd like. Some of you may have already seen the exciting news that Oleander Plume and the Sisters in Smut asked me to contribute a story for Chemical [se]X Volume 2. Volume 1 was all kinds of awesome and I wrote a glowing review of it here. So, naturally, I was beyond thrilled to be included in Chemical [se]X Volume 2. You'll be reading a lot more about it in the coming months, but until then, I have some unrelated naughtiness for you.

A few days ago, my mind was wandering, as it's prone to do, and I found myself thinking about irises—one of my favorite flowers. My mother used to grow them when we still lived in Pennsylvania. At first, I pictured the standard purple variety, but then I imagined a beautiful, pristine white bearded iris. That made me remember the famous Van Gogh painting you can see here.

My brain has been drifting back to that painting off and on until I woke up early this morning and lay awake contemplating it again. This conversation began forming in my head and I couldn't leave it alone. I knew it was pointless trying to go back to sleep, so I got up and started writing this. I didn't know where it was leading, but that is often the way with me.

The literary reference is Dylan Thomas's "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night."

I'm linking this to F. Leonora Solomon's Friday Flash, but it doesn't follow this week's "Boudoir" prompt. Please click on the badge below to read the other wonderful Friday Flash offerings!

Hope you enjoy my mind's wild journey,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

His White Iris
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2018. All rights reserved.

"That's me." I nodded towards the painting of a lone white iris among a field of purple ones.

Master wrapped his arm around my waist, his front flush against my back. "What?"

"The white iris."

"Isolated?" I felt his body stiffen, heard the tension in his voice.

"No, defiant against conformity." I smiled back at him. "Rage, rage against the ordinary."

Grinning, he relaxed. "Isn't it 'against the dying of the light?'"

"That too." I resumed admiring Van Gogh's artistry.

His warm breath teased my ear. "No one could ever accuse you of being ordinary."

Nor him, either. We were two singular, like-minded beings who managed to find each other against heavy odds. That was enough proof of divinity in the random universe for me.

"That guy has been watching you."

Shaking off my reverie, I looked back at him. "Who?"

He subtly jerked his head to the side. "Over there. Tan slacks. Blue shirt."

Around him, I was so absorbed by his magnetic presence I rarely noticed or cared about anyone else. But I followed his gaze and saw the man in question. He was mid-thirties, good looking—just a guy. Our eyes locked momentarily, then he looked away.

"So what?"

He ground his growing erection against my ass. "We should show him what an extraordinarily dirty girl you are?"

That easily he lit the match to my libido. I loved how his filthy mind worked.


"Men's room."

My cunt was already flooding with juices.

"Challenge accepted."

Making eye contact with the stranger, I flashed an alluring smile. Crooking my finger, I motioned for him to follow us. Then, hand in hand, we walked to the nearest restroom. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if he was behind us. Clearly, he was eager. So was I.

Master made sure the coast was clear before ushering the stranger and me inside, then locked the door behind us.

"She's mine," Master told the stranger. "You can watch."

The man nodded.

Master quickly pulled me over to a vanity with several sinks. In the large mirror, I saw the stranger, his back to the door, already rubbing his cock through his slacks.

I bent over, bracing my hands on the counter, spreading my legs apart. Master pulled a thin strap of my sundress over my shoulder, baring one breast.

"He only gets a glimpse."

Master fondled my tit, pinching the nipple until I whimpered. His free hand lifted my dress up over my ass and pushed aside my thong. His fingers found my slick cunt lips.

"So wet and ready."

"Always. Just for you."

Then he was inside me, fucking me hard and fast, his teeth marking my shoulder. I briefly saw the stranger jerking his freed cock furiously before the illicitness sent me hurtling over the edge. Master pulled out and came on my ass, where it would stay for the rest of the day.

Master's ardent gaze met mine in the mirror. "Never ordinary."

Not with him.