Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Shelter from the Storm (Kink of the Week & Wicked Wednesday #351)

This story developed from the Kink of the Week "Hands" theme and Wicked Wednesday's "Astonish" prompt. It's a slightly different take on what's becoming a favorite theme of mine. For your musical enjoyment, there's a video after the story of Bob Dylan performing "Shelter from the Storm."

Please click on the badges after the story to read all the other Kink of the Week and Wicked Wednesday posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Shelter from the Storm
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Not for the first time, I silently berated myself for choosing a university in the frozen tundra that was Central New York. I could have been in New Orleans or Nashville where the winters were much more reasonable. But no, I had to go Ivy League, so I was stuck in a snow storm that was too treacherous for the puddle jumpers that flew in and out of the tiny two-terminal airport.

Kicking the snow off my boots, I bustled into the tavern across the street from the airport. Since there was no sign of the snow letting up any time soon, the airline had chartered a bus to take whoever wanted to go to New York City. Hopefully, I'd be able to get a real plane there back to Miami, but there were no guarantees. The dorms were closed for winter break, so it was my only real option.

I had some time to kill until the bus arrived, so the tavern seemed as good a place as any to wait. The place was probably busier than it normally would have been in that kind of weather, but it seemed other stranded travelers had the same idea I did. I managed to find a table near a makeshift stage and started pulling off my gloves and coat.

"What can I get you, dear?" a harried, matronly server asked me.

"Coffee, please."

"Irish coffee?"

"No, just regular coffee. Steaming hot. In the biggest mug you have."

"You got it."

I was fixing the coffee she brought me, adding just the right amount of sweetener and cream, when a guy with a guitar took the stage. He was good-looking, older than me, maybe in his early thirties with shaggy brown hair and a couple days' worth of stubble on his strong jaw—which I hadn't thought I liked until that moment.

To be honest, I wasn't expecting much from someone performing in a little out-of-way bar. But from the first smooth, clear, resonant note he had me enraptured with his astonishing talent. That he chose to open with Dylan's "Shelter from the Storm" made me love him a little.

Utterly transfixed, I found myself watching the way his hands moved on the guitar. I really didn't know anything about playing a guitar, but I recognized skill when I saw it and heard it. His long, agile fingers shifted easily on the neck, expertly transitioning from one chord to another.

I couldn't help imagining what else his dexterous fingers could do. Squirming in my seat, I let my secretly dirty mind savor an illicit fantasy. Every time he changed his fingering, I could almost feel him exploring my moistening sex, teasing my tender nub briefly before sliding lower into my slick, tight sheath.

When I tore my gaze away from his fingers and looked up, I saw him watching me, his eyes heavy-lidded. He looked as aroused as I felt. Could he possibly know what I was thinking? Instead of making me embarrassed or self-conscious like I would have expected, it was thrilling.

He started playing another song I didn't recognize and guessed it was his own. His strumming hand plucked out a delicate, intriguing melody and my mind went off on another erotic tangent. I thought about his fingers plucking my impossibly taut nipples like that, only harder, much harder. He'd pinch them between his thumbs and index fingers until I was whimpering, writhing, begging—just for him.

I could have stayed there all day, watching and listening to him, but I had a bus to catch and my needy cunt was demanding attention. Normally, I never would have risked masturbating in a public place, but the idea of enduring the long ride to New York in the state I was seemed beyond torturous.

Heading for the ladies' room, I'd hoped to get myself off quickly and quietly, but there was a line of women waiting outside the bathroom. I wondered how many of them were just relieving themselves before getting on the bus, and how many were in a similar predicament and had the same naughty idea.

Since I wasn't going to risk the men's room, I kept going down the hall, turned a corner, and found an unmarked door at the end of it. I lightly knocked on it. There was no response so I carefully opened it. The room was dark, but I easily found the light switch. It appeared to be a storage room with tables and chairs haphazardly stacked in the small space.

Shutting the door behind me, I spotted a lone table beside the door. Not wasting any time, I climbed atop it, my back to the wall, one leg braced up on the edge, and unzipped my jeans. I slipped my hand down inside my soaked panties and gasped when I grazed my hypersensitive clit.

Once again, my mind was filled with my mysterious musician as I coated my fingers with my abundant juices and started circling my clit hard and fast. I was already so worked up I knew it wouldn't take long to reach the orgasm I so desperately craved.

Suddenly the door opened and in walked the object of my wild fantasies. He didn't see me at first since I was behind the door. He closed it, walk in a few steps, then put his guitar in the case I failed to noticed earlier.

When he turned around, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "Sorry, I…ah, I'll just…"

I'd been frozen with panic, my hand still in my jeans, but then I did something uncharacteristically bold.

With my free hand, I beckoned him closer. "You made me so fucking horny."

Trance-like, he eliminated the distance between us. "I got so hard looking at you I don't know how I got through that set."

I took his hand and brought it to my mouth. "Your voice could melt a glacier, but watching your hands play is what really got me."

Placing a soft kiss in the center of his palm, I opened my lips slightly and snaked my tongue out to taste his salty skin. He sucked in a breath as I licked up the length of his middle finger, then took it my mouth.

Sucking his finger, I kept my gaze locked with his. I needed to feel his hand on me. I slowly withdrew his finger from my mouth, lightly scraping the callused tip with my teeth.

"Please, I need you to touch me."

His breathing heavy, he nodded.

I pushed my jeans and panties down past my shaved pussy, giving him better access.

Groaning, he didn't hesitate cupping me in his warm hand, easily sliding the finger I'd been sucking on deep inside my cunt. "Fuck, you're drenched."

"Because of you."

I moaned as he pushed another long finger inside me, fucking me as his thumb strummed my swollen clit. Wanting to return the pleasure he was giving me, I yanked open his jeans, freeing his hard cock. I took him in my still slick grip, loving the feel of his big, steely length in my small hand.

Leaning over me, one hand braced on the wall above my head, he expertly played my sex as I jacked him off. Our hot breaths mingled as we pushed each other closer to the edge, the pleasure building to the breaking point.

"You're such a hot little cunt."

I think he meant it literally, but the idea he was calling me a nasty name intensified the sensations overwhelming my body. Muffling my cry in his shoulder, I came all over his hand, my inner muscles tightening around him again and again.

With a few harsh grunts, he shot his thick load all over my fingers as I milked every last drop.

We stayed like that for several minutes as our breathing calmed, then harsh reality finally hit me.

"Damn, I probably missed my bus."

"I'll give you a ride."


His scorching gaze held mine. "Wherever you want to go."

Being snowed in was turning out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Locked (Friday Flash #40)

When I saw the "Love Lock" prompt for Friday Flash, I thought I'd do something hopefully a little less obvious with it. Although this story stands on its own, it could be a close companion to "On the Rocks."

Please click on the badge below the story to read all the other Friday Flash posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

He leisurely trailed a finger between my breasts. "So, we've returned to the scene of the crime."

We were lounging naked on a blanket on a private section of beach, the ocean waves crashing ashore a few feet away. I was a languid mass, savoring the aftershocks of our passion, his come staining my skin.

Looking up, I saw him leaning over me, his hair burnished gold in the setting sun. "What crime?"

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "You stole my heart and absconded."

I was quiet for a moment. "I thought letting you go was the right thing to do."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how did that turn out?"

"Not so well." Not for me anyway.

"You're mine again?"

"As long as you want me."

His eyes narrowed. "How do I know you won't disappear again?"

"I've been thinking about that and came up with an idea."

Reaching into my discarded bag, I pulled out a short length of chain and a padlock with a key. Years before, we saw a couple at a fetish club who used this as a symbol of their commitment. Even though we weren't as hardcore into the lifestyle as they probably were, he found the possessiveness of it arousing. So did I.

He accepted my offering and turned the padlock over. Staring at his engraved name, he lightly traced it with the same finger that had been deep inside me earlier.

Finally, he looked up, his eyes blazing with intensity. "You're serious?"

I shrugged a shoulder casually even as my heart pounded wildly in my chest. "Only if you want to."

A wide smile slowly spread across his face. He climbed on top of me, straddling my body. As he threaded the chain around my neck, I noticed his reemerging erection. When he snapped the lock into place, the weight of it was comforting, not oppressive.

He held up the key. "I can do whatever I want with this?"

"Of course."

Turning slightly, he heaved it into the ocean.

I laughed. "Well, now you're stuck with me."

"Good. I have something for you, too."

I wrapped my hand around his now fully hard cock. "So I see."

"More than that." Before I could ask, he leaned down and rubbed his nose along mine. "Remember, you and I share the same dirty mind."

He grabbed his jeans and produced a similar chain and lock to mine. He gave them to me, his eyes gleaming. Sure enough, the lock was engraved with my name.

He leaned back down so I could fasten it around his neck, then I handed him the key. "You can put this where you put the other one."

Into the ocean it went, then he reclaimed my mouth in a fierce kiss.

After another round of lovemaking, he toyed with my lock as we lay intertwined.

"It's going to be hard getting this off if you change your mind."

I smiled. "That's not going to be a problem."

Friday, February 8, 2019

The Sex Pizza (Friday Flash #40)

If you want to know what inspired this silly naughtiness, take a look at this week's Friday Flash inspirational picture.

Please click on the badge below the story to read all the other posts.

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo


The Sex Pizza
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

"I'll have the sex pizza."

Yet again, I was flabbergasted—partly because the strange request came from a prim older woman dripping in Chanel.

"Sorry, there's no sex pizza."

She literally harrumphed. "The margherita then."

I put in the order, then turned to the college girl I hired as cashier. "Why is everyone asking for the sex pizza?"

"You don't know?"


She yelled for one of the guys to cover the register, then dragged me out the front and down the block. When she turned me around and pointed up, it all became clear.

Above the sign for my pizzeria, there was a sign for the unisex salon next door, but a fire escape partially covered both signs, leaving "sex" and "pizza."


"It's brilliant, really. Just add a sex pizza to the menu. Sex sells, baby."

After closing, I was alone, waiting for a delivery and considering those words of wisdom. When the backdoor buzzer sounded, I quickly straightened my hair before letting in the guy I'd been crushing on since I opened the place.

"What on earth is in these?" he asked as he rolled two heavy vats to the storeroom.

"Water from New York."


I shrugged. "That's supposedly why their pizza dough is the best."

"Huh, go figure."

Before he could leave again, I blurted out, "What should be on a sex pizza?"

He turned around slowly, grinning down at me. "You. Naked."

My cheeks flaming, I explained the situation. "Could you help me test a few ideas?"

"Free pizza from a knockout? How could I refuse?"

Trying not to swoon at his feet, I went to work preparing several small sampler pizzas.

"This guy I knew used to say pizzas are like blowjobs."

Looking over my shoulder, I saw him leaning against the counter behind me, his eyes glued to my ass. "How's that?"

He met my gaze, not the least bit ashamed. "There's no such thing as a bad one."

I laughed. "That guy was you, right?"

His eyes gleamed with mischief. "Maybe."

Once ready, I laid out the samples on the counter next to him. Watching his sensuous mouth move had my panties soaked by the time he got to the last pizza.

Eyes closed, he groaned. "Damn, that's good."

I swear I had a mini-orgasm.

Wanting to try it myself, I snagged a bite and moaned as the flavors exploded on my taste buds.

Before I knew it, he lifted me onto the countertop and stood between my legs, causing my skirt to ride up to my hips. "I want to cause you to make that sound."

His hand gripping my hair, he devoured my mouth. He tasted like tomatoes, basil, and the most alluring ingredient of all—him. Ravenous, I freed his cock, and then he was moving inside me, creating one delicious wave of pleasure after another.

The sex pizza was a bestseller. It came with a creamy white dipping sauce inspired by the new man in my life.

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Watching Him (Kink of the Week and Wicked Wednesday #349)

It's my first time writing something for the Kink of the Week. I just couldn't resist the mutual masturbation theme. I've also combined this story with the Wicked Wednesday "Social Media" prompt. As luck would have it, the first image I saw on Instagram was an enticing picture of red lace panties around a sexy pair of heels, courtesy of littleswitchbitch. And so, this story emerged.

As always, please click on the badges below the story to read all the other tantalizing posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Warning: Some Daddy Dom/little girl role-playing and dirty talk with name calling.

Watching Him
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

I'd slipped off my heels before entering the apartment. Placing them on the floor just inside the entryway, I closed the door with the quietest of snicks, then tiptoed down the hallway towards our bedroom. As I got closer, I heard the familiar sounds of wild fucking and smiled to myself.

When I looked through the slightly open doorway, I found the sight I'd eagerly anticipated. He was stretched out on his side facing me, his hand slowly working up and down his hard cock. Since his gaze was glued to whatever porn he had playing on the laptop sitting on the bed beside him, he didn't notice me.

Leaning against the door jamb, I just enjoyed the show. I loved watching him pleasure himself, but I seldom got the chance to really take my time before it led to other erotic activities. I knew he sometimes masturbated when I wasn't around and hoped to catch him without him realizing it—at least for a little while.

His eyes heavy-lidded with lust, he was clearly enthralled by the video. I couldn't tell what was going on; all I heard was slapping flesh, male grunts, and a young female voice squealing with pleasure. He slid his hand down his shaft to cup his balls, lightly massaging them.

Fuck, that was hot.

I pressed my legs together to ease the growing neediness in my cunt. I was really tempted to sneak my hand into my panties and play with my clit, but I didn't think I could do it quietly enough to avoid detection. I wasn't quite ready to make my presence known yet.

He moved his hand back up and gripped his shaft fiercely, squeezing up the length. A stream of glistening pre-come drooled out over the head, making my mouth and cunt water. It always amazed me how seemingly rough he was with his cock. I wanted to wrap my pouty lips around the head and just softly suck on it for a while.

As I watched, his hand went over the head, palming it and doing that twisting motion I found so intriguing—like he was unscrewing a bottle cap. It must have felt really good, because his head fell back and he released a low groan.

My growing arousal seemed directly linked to his. I could feel my juices soaking my panties and my hard nipples pressing against my flimsy dress. I didn't think I'd able to resist touching myself for much longer—or jumping him and riding his cock until me both came all over each other.

Like he heard my thoughts—or maybe I made an involuntary sound without knowing it—his head snapped up and his gaze locked with mine. In a flash, he shut off the porno and sat up. He looked like he was going to reach for a pillow to cover his erection, but then stopped himself when realized how silly that would be. It wasn't like I hadn't seen it before—many times.

Having been found out, I walked into the bedroom. "Don't stop on my account."

He cleared his throat. "I thought you were at that bachelorette party."

"I ducked out early." I pulled one of the narrow straps of my dress over my shoulder. "Grown women getting hammered and trying to reenact a Girls Gone Wild video isn't my scene."

A slow smile spread across his face. "No?"

Shaking my head, I lowered the other strap, then pushed the silky material over my breasts. "No, but watching you jack off definitely is."

His gaze followed the dress as it skimmed down my body onto the floor. He slowly looked back up, taking in my red lace panties and matching bra. His eyes widened, then narrowed. "You wore that to a girls' night out?"

"No, I wore it to come home to you afterwards."

Seemingly appeased, he smiled again and started moving the laptop off the bed.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

He frowned. "Now that you're here, I don't need this."

"That's sweet, but I want to see what had you all hot and bothered."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I don't know about that."

I laughed as I approached the bed. "Why? How bad could it be?"

I was about to climb onto the bed, but froze when he held up his hand. "Keep the panties on, but lose the fucking bra."

Grinning, I reached behind my back and unfastened the clasp. His heated gaze was locked onto my heavy tits as I pulled the lacy material away and tossed it aside. I know he didn't miss a jiggle or sway as I settled next to him, the laptop between us.

I reached down and started the video from the beginning. Leaning back, I watched as the unimaginative plot unfolded. Basically, while a man's wife was out of town, he came home late from work to find the babysitter getting herself off while watching his secret stash of dirty movies.

The girl was cute, petite, blonde, and barely legal. Was that what he was worried about? Okay, I wasn't in my twenties anymore and I was a curvy brunette. That didn't mean I was upset that he found the girl attractive. After all, I found the tall, dark, and domineering dad very arousing.

"She's hot."

He made a vague grunting sound, but when I looked over, his hand was working his cock again in firm strokes.

Unable to resist any longer, I shifted one leg up and out so I could easily slip my hand inside my soaked panties. When my fingers delved between my drenched slit and found my swollen clit, I couldn't help moaning.

As I circled my clit again and again, the naughty scene continued, getting dirtier by the second. The dad quickly had her gagging on his cock, eventually working up to him thoroughly destroying her tight ass—all of which she seemed to genuinely love.

"And he is a very naughty daddy!"

At his groan, I looked over again to find him watching my hand moving beneath my panties instead of the porno. Jerking his cock harder and faster, he shifted his gaze between my quivering tits and busy hand.

"I bet you want to be that dirty daddy."

His chest heaving, he looked up at me, his eyes burning with intensity. "Yes."

Since I had his undivided attention, I pushed the laptop aside and straddled his lap facing him. "You want to fuck her nasty virgin asshole, don't you?"

He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back so my body arched, thrusting my tits into his chest. "I want to fuck your tight slut asshole."

Panting, I rocked my hips forward and back, grinding myself against the hand that was still stroking his cock. "I love it when you call me dirty names."

"Such a fucking filthy come whore."

"Fuck yeah." His knuckle rubbed my clit through the wet panties with every up and down motion, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. "I want Daddy's hot come all over my panties."

"You first, little cunt."

Moving my hips faster, I moaned as the sensations built until I went hurtling of the edge. I was still shaking from the jolts of pleasure ripping through my body when he released a long, low groan and shot his thick load all over my belly and panties.

Sometime later, we were sprawled across the bed with me mostly on top of him, his come a sticky mess between us. Our breathing had finally calmed and he was idly stroking my hair.

"We should do that again sometime."

"You have another girls' night out planned anytime soon?"

"No, but you just might come home one day and find me doing something very, very naughty."

He chuckled and slapped my ass. "Looking forward to it, dirty girl."

So was I.