Category Archives: LOVE

Weekly Erotica

Seventy Two Hours

   You’ve fed me. It was the best omelet I’ve ever had. I like it that you’re not afraid of bacon. I’m enthralled with you, I love looking at you. I think you’re incredibly handsome and I adore your natural masculinity. 
   You know, we weren’t wrong, it is you/us—time stood still and everything lined up the way I feared, suspected—was too afraid to admit. The funny thing is, I don’t even know if I believe in this shit anymore. It all seems much too fairy tale to be something I would ever experience. My life has not been fairy tale in the slightest. 
   But I digress. The food was perfect, the white wine crisp, and the electrical connection with the chef beyond my wildest dreams. Moments of fear stab through me; what if he isn’t feeling it like I am? What if I’ve lost it and he doesn’t even like me? What if I’m too soft, too fat? Not fat enough? 
   Your tone changes, you’re letting out Master, he wants to play, “Come sit on the countertop for me.”
   My heart picks up a lope behind my ribs. Hello Mr. Adrenaline, nice to feel you again. Go with it, go with it, you got this. “Sure.” I’m so nervous my legs are shaking. Fake it, just fake you’re strong, pretend you’re fine. Be confident, you got this. Oh shit, that smolder in his eyes. It appears he’s into me. Oh thank god. 
   You spread my knees with your hands and insinuate yourself right up between them, digging your thumbs into my upper thighs. My exhale is wordlessly expressive. The counter is an ideal height. Jerk of my hips; oh shit, I might have just peed a little. You’re so hard already, and big, god, you’re incredible. Oh shit, I’m shaking. 
   Hands on my jaw, eye smolder in full effect, you hold my face and ask my lips, “Consent?”
   A short laugh bursts from my lips, “Who talks like this in real life?” I blurt, then quickly add, “Have you been reading women’s erotic fiction again? You realize it’s not real, right? Nobody is like that in real life.”
   “I might be,” you say with a sly smile curling half your mouth. “Kiss me and shut up.” My lashes flutter, your mouth is right there. It’s been so long since anyone kissed me. I’m shaking again. “Tell me you consent. You’re mine now. Tell me you’re ready.”
   My, “Oh god yes,” is way too breathy to be anything but my raw confession of; I’m ready for you now. “Yes, yes, I consent.”
   “Yes, it’s the same for me. Yes, time stood still. We weren’t wrong.”
   “No, but were we right?” I joke.
   You chuckle, “Let’s just be in this moment and stretch it out as long as we can. Agreed?”
   “Agreed.”
   Our lips meet. You can feel my tremble as my heart stutters. Your hands travel to my back and you hold me steady. Your assuredness soaks in as your mouth insists I respond further. I do, and part my lips, inviting your tongue to travel in and meet with mine. 
   I mutter, “Is this really happening?”
   You pull back and glue your gaze to mine. Our eyes are locked, your strength is enveloping me in a blanket of belonging. Dare I say I feel as if you’re claiming me? And although very few words have been spoken, I am home. I am safe inside your embrace. You flicker in and out of my vision as my eyelids flutter without permission. 
   “I need,” You pulse your jaw once and it’s the only time your gaze wavers. You let your eyes travel to where our clothed bodies are pressed together. Your words are almost apologetic as they fall off, “I need to be inside you.”
   “Yes, please…me too,” My voice is thready, but I can already feel how wet I am. Slick, shiny, heated and ready. There is no hesitation as I spread my legs even farther and press the damp spot in my thin cotton leggings directly to the fly of your jeans. “I’m ready for you.” 
   You swallow roughly and grind against my mound. You’re cock is straining and rigid, seeking to escape the captivity of denim. I flood with wetness and gasp as my belly clenches and my insides begin a low hum. 
   “You are my ideal,” You growl at my ear and travel your lips down my long neck. “You smell of lemons and honey and…you.” You nibble your way down my jugular and then back up the other side. “I’m already addicted.” Your actions take on more urgency as you pull down my pants. The counter is cold and I utter a tiny squeal. “Inside you…more later.” Now your abbreviated words are all the foreplay I need. 
   I’m all too receptive as you drop your jeans and boxers to pool around your feet. You fist your cock and guide yourself to my very wet pussy. You trace the tip around, making it shine. We both watch the pornographic display. We both make sounds of intense arousal. I puddle in preparedness. I can’t believe how beautiful you are; your cock is impressive and I’m mesmerized as you continue to spread all my lubrication around, teasing at my entrance. I moan yet again.
   “Can’t wait,” You mutter.
   The sound I make is pleading. You respond by sliding in just the bulging crown. You seat yourself partially inside my body and we both hold our breaths. How could this feel so good? My exhale is in staccato rhythm. 

   You rumble down low in your belly and pull me to sheath over you completely. I am now your scabbard. I melt around your heat as you pierce my body. Now I can’t breathe. Your heart is inside me. Your length joining us. Time stands still. All I can hear is my pulse behind my ears, and your grunts of pleasure as you begin to slide in and out, taking your time, making sure I feel every inch of you.
 
   I hold your head and begin a continuous whimper of pleasure. You grit your jaw, your fingers dig in and you use me like a doll. What started slowly, takes on more urgency. The slapping of our bodies grows louder as you advance with a thrust that unseats me. Only your hands keep me from falling backwards. Then you slide away, retreating before another pillaging onslaught. I hold on, you grip tighter. “Oh god yes. Yes!” I scream.
   You whisper at my ear, “Cum for me.”
   I have no choice. I obey, and in a flashing moment of scorching need, my body seizes and I scream. I bury my head in your neck and I twitch through a massive climax. I do cum, and it soaks your cock. 
   You mumble, “Fuck.” Then your body lets loose. 
*****
   “I’m not done with you yet.”
   “Um, okay.”
   You lead me to the bedroom, with the enormous bed. “Naked, now.”
   I do as you wish and strip. I’m shaking again. I desperately want you to find me attractive,and I’ve lost most of my self-worth as a sexual entity. I’m sorry. Confidence is non-existent. You help me though. The appreciative perusal is a bolster. The fact I just saw your cock slightly fill and lift, an enormous boost. 
   I pause and stare at you. Even your partial is a work of art. I suck in escaping spittle as you fondle your balls and stroke your vein encased girth. I forget to hold my drool captive. You grin appreciatively. “Present yourself.”
   I lick my lips. I’m terrified, but I also know that anticipation, fear, whatever it is I’m feeling, it’s all part of this dance and the best aphrodisiac available. I tell myself, just ride it. Use it. I roll to my stomach, pull my knees under my body and press my forehead to the bed. Then I slowly slide my knees apart and roll my pelvis. Here you go, clean shaved pinkness just for you.
   I hear you swallow, then you climb up on the bed behind me. You pet my pale bottom. I hear you fist your cock again and stroke yourself. I’m soaking wet again. Glistening for you. “This is going to hurt.” You warn, but I know its all part of this dance. I smile against the comforter and drag my fingers down until I’m holding on, ready for whatever you might do. 
   The volley of spanks sounds like the rapport of a machine gun as you punish my posterior. I scream until you command, “Not a sound.” Then I gulp it back, and I try to be quiet, but I continue to cry as you bruise me with your hand. You stop long enough to run your finger up through my cleft. “You’re so wet.”
   “Mmmm-muh,” I mumble.
   “That was just the right cheek. Now they must match.” 
   I whine in resignation as you begin with the other cheek. It feels as if you poured hot wax all over my bottom and it’s burned. It aches and is on fire. When you’re finished, you again pet it, caressing it gently, cooling it with your touch. The affection rattles my insides, I moan again and arch my back, pushing my butt against your palm. I love the caresses after you’ve hurt me. 
   “I’m going to take you again, right now.”
   “Yes.”
   “Yes what?”
   “Yes Master?”
   “Good girl.”
   You mount me, guiding yourself to my entrance, but teasing me with entry. I try and push into you, to get you inside me again. You laugh and slide your hips away. I whine. 
   You flatten me to the bed with a hand between my shoulder blades and your body follows as you wrap a massive hand around my neck. Your hips pin mine as your cock skids against my folds. I roll my pelvis just right and there you are, the tip of you knocking.
   You choke me lightly. It's an incongruous violent gentleness that feels as if we startled a covey of quail. I choke on my severed breaths and those normally land bound birds take flight in a burst of fluttering wings. 
   You wait for me to cease thinking about penetration, then you stab into me, finalizing my rapture in a startling, shocking moment, "Oh...oh fuck..."
*****
   We’re both exhausted from the physical and emotional overflow. You drag me into your arms and we nap. We’re sticky and smell like sex, damp linens and wine, but we don’t care. It’s us together and its bliss. “I’ll no doubt snore, and will certainly drool,” I say. 
   You laugh and kiss the top of my head, “I’ll poke you if you snore. The drooling was a great compliment.” 
   “Not so much when I’m asleep and I feel like a wet bowling ball pinning down your arm.” 
   “I can deal.” You kiss my shoulder and use my fleshy mound to fuse our bodies together. You’re flaccid at the moment, but I can feel you instantly begin to fill again. You gutturally whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this... You.”
   I push my butt up and roll my hips, “Me either.”
   We languish in the land of skin to flesh, soaking and marinating in each other. Even in sleep, we make sure we’re touching. Night has fallen at this point, but it’s early. You mumble sleepily, “I need more of you.” 
   “We have all weekend. Use me however you see fit. I’m yours.”
   “Good girl.”
   You get up, but leave the room dark. You return with water, a glass of cold milk, and a gourmet, dark chocolate bar. We indulge without words, only sounds of satisfaction. “Round three?”
   I grin, and then wince, “I’m kinda sore.” 
   “Good.” 
   You move away the wrappers and give me a look. Without thought, a whimper escapes my lips. I lay back. You drag my hands above my head, pinning them together with one of yours. You lay on me, smashing me to the bed. 
   I gasp and moan, “God you feel good.” You kiss me. Your cock is filling again. I wonder silently, how can he again? I say to your lips, “You’re fucking amazing.”
   There is something different about you now. You’re probably a bit tired, the edge is off, you’re methodical in your movements. You kiss me again, your free hand travels to the swell of my hips and you hold me steady as you effortlessly slide inside. “Home,” you growl.
   “Heaven,” I whisper on a ragged exhale.
   You roll your hips, taking your time so I can feel the terrain of your body and your cock as you move against and into me. Deeper and deeper, insisting I take every spec of you and then more. We both break out in a sheen of perspiration, but you remain steady, almost careful. 
   I find your lips with mine and strain to stay there, with more of you inside me. Your tongue, your cock, if I didn’t know better it’s as if our souls are touching. I can’t even think it, let alone say it, but, but, are you making love to me? I don’t even have a reference for what I feel in this moment. 
   I undulate with you as you retreat and advance, and leave me only to reenter with a surging need to go deeper. You push up and away, grabbing the backs of my thighs and folding me in half. I give to you in a rubbery acquiescence.   
   You whisper, “I need to see you.” I reach for the lamp and click it on. You don’t need to say it again, but you do, “Good girl.” Then your eyes travel back to my spread pinkness, glistening in the dim light. I don’t even think you realize you say it out loud, “Perfection,” but what that one word produces in my belly is shocking. 
   You begin fondling your rigid length with one hand and manipulating my clit with your other. My thighs vibrate and I know my pussy is now a visible twitching mess of need. I plead, “Inside me...please?” 
   “Beg me.”
   I am so desperate for your penetration I do beg and begin to move so I might kneel before you. You stay me, and your expression is all I need to resume my knees at ears position. “Please let me take you inside...um,suck on you. I need you inside my body.” 
   “Beg me.” 
   “Master, please fuck me. Take me. Use my cunt and cum inside me. I will do anything to feel your cock inside me again.”
   “Anything? Any hole?” Your tone is amused. 
   “Yes, any hole. Please Master. Please!” I almost wail the last word. All this time you've been viciously vibrating my clit and petting my soaked folds. You've also been keeping yourself statue erect. My own wetness is dripping down through my taint and I’m feeling a level of unrivaled desperation. “Please fuck me. Please... inside me.” My body rattles as you increase the pressure and rotation. I gasp and clamp my eyes closed. I know I can’t orgasm until you say. I wordlessly plead with my eyes. 
   “You do not cum until I say.” 
   “Yes Master.”


Payne Hawthorne

My Newest Release, AVERY

averykindlecover1

I just released my newest short story, (3 hr. read). Its only up for a short time and then being included in an anthology.  Get it now from me 3 months before official release.

Avery is a recent divorcee who has lived an entirely vanilla life. She has no idea men like Joshua exist in this world, but she’s soon to discover what it means to be recognized by a dominant. Joshua’s only problem is now convincing Avery she is his perfect submissive counterpart.

Get it here: Kindle US or Kindle UK

averyteaser

New Release May 31st!

This is the first book I wrote, over four years ago. It’s since been changed, revised, and edited many times in the last few years. I think/hope its fantastic now!

Its up on Kindle for Pre-order http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
Teaser from Remnant
Teaser from Remnant

 

AdventuresinPayne, REMNANT
AdventuresinPayne, REMNANT
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
Teaser from Remnant
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UNRHEKY

Revealed from Stone

 

carvedfrommarble

REVEALED FROM STONE

Yet Another Year.

It’s been an odd year. Few ups, few downs, nothing new really. Apart from the broken, (severely broken), ankle, which is healing, there is nothing momentous about the year I just burned away like it was only a few weeks. Yet, here I sit, again wondering about the year behind me and my growth during that time.

To understand me better in the now, I must digress and tell you a bit about who I am, and what got me to here. I’ve spent my entire life, from as far back as my earliest memories, wanting, craving, searching and wishing for—love. And as a sidebar, I’ve found little bits and pieces of—love—throughout my life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve looked for and attracted it everywhere I can find it. Mostly I’ve sated my craving to love, through my animals, (motherly), since I never had kids, (I didn’t want to be weighed down with children when my great love appeared).

What’s eluded me, and what I will go to my grave aching to feel, is that all encompassing—bordering on insane—kind of love where I can devote and submit all of myself to one other person. Only one! To belong to them and them to me—yes I used that word—BELONG! I know what you’re thinking—don’t categorize me as a bunny boiler just yet.  What I want—but refuse to fabricate or force—is to find and be permitted to dwell with the one meant for me.  The one who wishes to consume all of me—I’m willing to give that much—I’m capable of giving that much!

Funny thing is, in my search for—the one—I’ve tried on a few; more than a few. None were quite right. I even married, and we are great/best friends to this day, but even he will admit we never had that kind of love.  I’ve seen others find that kind of love—first hand! It wasn’t always a Disney movie either—lots of hard times and angst along the way—but the love, the relationship and the other person were always the most important ingredients. That is what I want! (Please note I used WANT, not, NEED. I’ve made it this far and I can finish just fine without.)

When I was seven I walked forward at a tent revival and gave my heart to Jesus. I was born again before I was ten. I reconfirmed that faith again in my twenties when I was baptized in the ocean by a traveling preacher. I walked forward again in my mid-thirties at a huge convention with Joyce Meyers. My faith has been tested, but I’ve never once faltered in my devotion and submission to, THEIR, will in my life. Here is where I must clarify that I am not a church going, pew sitting–Christian. In fact, I’ve only been in a church a handful of times.

I am my own minister, believer, and the most spiritual Jesus freak you will ever meet.  Although, if you meet me, you would never know this fact because I don’t talk about it. The reason I don’t talk about it has nothing to do with shame or embarrassment. Neither of which I hardly ever feel—in any situation. The reason I don’t talk about it is because most of the people I am around, vehemently hate Christians. The reason they do, is because other Christians fervently judge, shame and then try and save the ones that are a bit different—like me—I don’t need to be turned or saved from their perception of my sinful ways.

I also have no agenda to save another’s soul. It’s theirs, not mine, and I don’t care if they go to the same heaven I do, or not. I guess that is where I diverge from the flock of do-gooders. There are very few do-good-anything, bones in my body.  This life is for me to learn whatever the fuck I need to learn, and move on. Get out of the cyclical, program ruled, breeders and workers, universal mindset of this planet—I call them the, Blue Pills. I want out and off. My goal this lifetime is to fastrack this process and get these lessons learned post haste.

Of course, by declaring that agenda to my helpers and angels, I’ve set out the gauntlet, and it isn’t always pretty rainbows and blessings.  Often it is painfully learned lessons, or numerous heartbreaks that never quite heal. I struggle with coldness, numbness, apathy, dullness, depression and cynicism. None of which would be welcomed in the heaven I seek to enter. Sometimes the breaking and wrenching needed for me to feel anything deeply, is exactly—breaking and wrenching—and it fucking hurts throughout my mind, body and soul.

It often feels as if who I am—who I am becoming—is being revealed and carved from solid marble. I need to soften. I need to have less brace. I need to be open and grateful.

So, back to this quest to find love. Which, sadly I’ve about given up on. At least to the capacity I’d once hoped for. Maybe it wasn’t meant for me this lifetime, or maybe I screwed up somewhere along the line and totally blew it.  But it’s never been gifted to me. I do have some wonderful people in my life at present, one man I adore, but only from afar, and I’ve come to realize it might be too late for us.  By my age everyone has lives, families, kids, jobs, careers, duties. They are entrenched in their life. I am the odd one out. I am free at present—free, but alone. So, whatever I get, I get it in a limited capacity, and that will not change. I often wonder if I should settle, and be happy for part of the dream, or do I dare still hope for that one elusive person to whom I could submit to as fully as I have to Jesus?

Since I write about, and am drawn to the world of Dominants and Submissives—BDSM—and I am a bit of a masochist who craves her dominant, I’ve done quite a bit of research. And I’ve learned a lot about myself in the process.  Turns out, what I crave isn’t unheard of in that world, and often, it is more the norm. It’s an obsessive kind of love that I suppose some would call co-dependent.  For me, it is finding someone worthy of not only my complete and utter devotion, but also my submission and ache to be the only one to sate their every crave and need. I would go so far as to say I wished to be their every crave and need!

So far, none are worthy. I have a big personality, and most would never think of me as a, quote-unquote, submissive. I’m a bit of an oddity—can I call myself an, Alpha-submissive? The ineffable sub? Even throughout my long years as a horse trainer and professional, I was always Alpha mare. Always! I’ve often thought that a man who was—more—than me, probably didn’t exist. Add in the fact–I am a woman of God–and I desire to belong to a man of God? Well that list just got even smaller. Perhaps non-existent. But, in all reality, I’ve practiced submitting to God and His will in my life—my entire life.

I suppose you could say–I’ve become my own dominant.

On the bright side, this never filled ache of mine is great fodder for my work and my stories.  I write from a place of fantasy and hope that maybe, just maybe, HE does exist and, maybe, just maybe, HE might find me. I’m not looking.  I’ve actually always thought—HE would find me. HE would know I was meant to belong to him, and in turn, HE would make sure I knew.  He would gather me, woe me, and eventually OWN me—mind, heart, and body. Fantasy? Sure, why not. But don’t forget I believe in a God and His son, (my soul is theirs already), and that whole bible malarkey thing too.  I also believe in multiple lifetimes and honestly, I seriously doubt—Every. Single. Lifetime. We are allowed to find the kind of bliss I’ve always sought. This just might be an off-lifetime for me.

Patience grasshoppah—paint the fence—learn your lessons. The next chapter will come soon enough.

I’m an oddity to be sure. My goal in my writing is to let this foreign, alien, love-driven, will-surrendering mindset, filter through into my work. I’m going to use every moment of angst and longing to fuel my words and drive my characters. Maybe this is supposed to be my great love? The writing? It saved me during my darkest hour when I felt truly anointed to write my first book—AdventuresinPayne. (It’s being edited right this second by a professional and will be re-released in the spring of 2015). I do know I have a talent for it, and I am trying my darndest to impart the messages I’ve learned, or am being taught as I move along. Trying to tell the story the way they’ve told me. In writing this, I realize I already belong to a benevolent Father who’s taken great care of me.  I’ve never worked in the traditional sense, but everything I’ve ever wanted, (apart from that elusive relationship), has been provided to me.

The way I see it, THEY, want us to have overflowing desires. Without those, how can they, teach, train and mold us into the kind of evolved souls who would welcome more evolved souls into a paradise universe? Fear of hell isn’t going to work. Let’s be honest, hell is all around us, in us, part of us. We can’t do much worse than this treadmill existence. But! And there is a big BUTT! The promise of everlasting peace, contentment, saturation and satisfaction—not to mention unending LOVE and protection! All of those things will surely motivate me.

So, going into yet another year, think about your own spirit’s evolution. Don’t get sidetracked with the myriad distractions of life and family and others. Duties will always be there and nobody else’s path is as important as your own.  Change destructive patterns as quickly as you see them. If you don’t, if you linger and wallow, you will only stay here, there, in those patterns. If you do what you’ve always done—you will always get the same results.

I for one, want MORE and BETTER and all the rewards that I know come from being self-aware and on this path of learning and soul-improvement. It’s simple, just not easy. And most of all, there is no pride over here. Give in, give up the illusion you have a say in any of this—your will—your rightness—your marble hard veneer–soften your heart. When you do, I swear it is a miraculous awakening.

Remember–Relax, nothing is under control!

That at least is what I am doing on a minute by minute basis, and I like the person I am becoming. Onto 2015 people! Are you with me?

~Payne