Apr 26

Mischa Eliot

Wicked Wednesday: Runaway, Bride

Oh boy … Weddings. They are (almost?) (sometimes?) (always?) such a complicated affair, are they not? Please enjoy Wicked Wednesday: Runaway, Bride.


 

After seeing with my own eyes the truth, I slipped out of the simple gown I had pinched pennies to buy and left it in a pile on the dressing room floor. Back in my street clothes, I slipped out of the window with my purse and my carry-on bag. I had the tickets to Hawaii and I was about to fly First Class. I just had to get to the airport.

But first, I had to escape my wedding and all the guests. I had left a note with Paula’s name on it. I gave her my blessing. After what I saw, the last thing I wanted to do was to keep my fiancé and my best friend from having to continue to keep what they felt for each other secret. Whether it lasted for them or not was none of my concern.

Did my heart ache? Why yes, it did. A crack had formed. Who am I fooling? The Grand fucking Canyon split me open inside. I had heard whispers and I had seen the side-eye directed at me, but never knew what it meant. The last person I expected to pull me aside to tell me point-blank that my future husband and best friend were fucking each other set me firmly in the disbelief column. Obviously the woman who had bullied me all of high school would enjoy hurting me a month before my wedding, right?


His Southern twang caressed my ears like a lover’s fingers.


In order to prove to me that she wasn’t lying, she wasn’t trying to purposefully hurt me, and to earn my trust, she called me one morning. When I hung up on her, she texted me a photo of Marc and Paula touching and kissing on the way to the elevator. My number one nemesis opened my eyes to the truth. She also managed the hotel they happened to reserve a room at. I still couldn’t believe, though.

However, when you go to sneak into your fiance’s changing room to sneak a quick kiss and maybe a fast fuck to help you relax, and find that he’s already shoved his face beneath your best friend’s Maid of Honor dress, you finally realize that the whispers were true. That people were afraid to tell you, or perhaps they didn’t think it was a big deal. Men cheat, it’s in their DNA, right? Procreation and all?

Instead of flailing and crying and throwing and fighting, I slipped the door shut, quiet as a church mouse stealing the pastor’s cheese, then headed back across the hall. I was very lucky because the changing rooms were on the ground floor and my window pointed to an area clear of people and land with trees that would hide my escape.

Since it was now only fifteen minutes before the ceremony would start, I was sure everyone had arrived and no one I stuck my thumb out for to hitch a ride would be heading for my wedding. Boy was I wrong.

Owen pulled over and lowered his sunglasses with his playboy smirk, knowing exactly what I was doing. “So… you know the truth now, d’ya?”

His Southern twang caressed my ears like a lover’s fingers. “Yeah, I know. They’re all about to find out that I’m not in the dressing room. Can I get a ride outta here or do you want to go see the drama unfold?” I leaned into the open window, lowering my sunglasses like he had his own, but I didn’t dare try to mirror that smile.

“Get in. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, dahlin’.”

My door wasn’t even shut before he made an illegal u-turn and started shifting into higher gears, moving us as quickly away from the church as possible.

“Thanks, Owen. I’d like to go to the airport. I have a couple of tickets to Hawaii. Do you want to go with me?”

“Hell yes.”


“I’m glad you came with me, Owen.” I touched his face, the scruff on his face felt softer than it should. He pulled me into his arms.

“Despite the circumstances that landed me here, Zoey?” The warmth from his breath tickled my neck and I sighed against his chest.

I could feel the tightness that had left my chest rear up to remind me it wasn’t gone just yet. Tears stung my eyes and he tightened his hold on me.

Instead of spending my honeymoon with my husband, I was spending it with his best friend. I had no idea if there was anything real between us and, in a way, it wasn’t a concern at the moment. My fiancé made his choice and I made mine in the best way I could think of.

Owen picked me up and carried me back into the bungalow we’d rented. I could’ve kept the honeymoon suite that Marc had used his credit card for, but instead opted for a clean break. When we made it safely inside, working together, Owen carried me to the bedroom.


I sucked slow, teasing him, edging him. 


Laying me down, he kissed me. I’d never kissed anyone other than Marc. I’d never known kisses could be orgasmic. A little voice inside was grateful that he’d been the one to pick me up. He was teaching me new things, both in and out of bed.

“How about tonight you blindfold me and tease me, like I did this mornin’, sweetheart?” That playboy smile was back, but there was something new in his eyes, a light I hadn’t seen before.

Grabbing the scarf, I wrapped it around his head twice before tying it and guided him to the bed. I stripped off his clothing, kissing and licking as I went. I touched the bottom of his feet, his calves, his forearms, and biceps.

The quiet hisses and the way his body shifted and tensed told me he was enjoying trying to guess where I was going next. I teased his nipples with my thumbs and planted kisses down his chest. Owen’s hips shifted in response and when I took him into my mouth, I pinched his nipples. His cock thickened. I sucked slow, teasing him, edging him.

Sliding up his body, I guide his shaft into me and plunged my soaked pussy down. We both moaned loud and then panted until we could breathe again. Owen gripped my hips, but did not lift me. He was giving control over to me and I was more than willing to follow-through.

Riding on top was still new to me, but Owen was a patient lover. His hands caressed and squeezed and pinched until we couldn’t take it any longer. I took the blindfold off and he rolled me over. A few rough thrusts and we fell into bliss.

{Apologies for the changed ending. I realize with the original, which was also sent through email, that I didn’t end it properly – and there’s a word count. If I had ended it on a proper break, then I would’ve done a ‘continued next week’ notice… but I didn’t. Come back soon for more!}

If you enjoyed this post, please stop by and see the other entries from those participating in Wicked Wednesday.

Stop by Rebel’s Notes and say something nice while you’re at it!

Apr 25

Mischa Eliot

TMI Tuesday: Social Norms

It’s time for TMI Tuesday! I’m trying to be more ‘social’ (on the internet) by participating in various memes. I hope you enjoy.


1. Does your workplace have a “casual Friday” or a day when you can dress down or out of uniform?

Yes, we’re allowed to wear jeans but they have to be nice. (No holes, not even decorative.)

2. Has the growth of social media and unabashed sharing of personal info on social media made you MORE or LESS cautious about your privacy?

More. Much more. I hardly post anything at all on my personal facebook or twitter anymore, mostly because I’m focusing on writing and keeping sane. Or as close to sane as I can get….

3. Is gay marriage legal where you live?

Yes. I’m cool with it.

4. Is smoking marijuana legal where you live? Under what circumstances?

I believe medical marijuana is legal, but nothing else. Honestly… I don’t care as long as people aren’t so out of their gourd (I’ve seen it, so please don’t comment otherwise) that they can’t function.

5. Give us a hashtag that best describes your weekend. Hashtag must be 15 letters or less.

#WastedWeekend because more often than not, I end up wasting the time doing things that aren’t writing, cleaning, or being outside. That’s going to change now that warm weather is officially here.

Bonus:  Have you ever stalked a celebrity? Who?

I’ve never stalked a celebrity, but if I did, it would probably be Christian Kane. I adore him.


This has been an installment of TMI Tuesday! Have you shared today? If not, head over to the website and grab the questions, then write your post and submit your link!

To see who else was brave enough to answer TMI Tuesday questions, head over there.

Apr 24

Mischa Eliot

Masturbation Monday: Don’t Come Yet

Wow, what a blast. The inspirational gif for this post reminds me of so many good things. Hot baths, bubbles, good sex. I hope you enjoy the story!


Confiscated from Pinterest

Come over. Please.

I grunted under my breath at the text. I had too much to do. I had no time for anything resembling a life, let alone a quickie with him.

I really can’t. I’m sorry. Next week?

I bit my lip in anticipation of his answer. I was surprised he hadn’t ended our arrangement. The little dots that indicated he was typing drove me mad. Was he typing and then erasing to start over? I felt as if time were passing at super speed, but I knew better. The second hand on the clock mocked my need to flee the building to get to my next task – a hot bubble bath at home. Tonight was the only night I had off and I wanted to enjoy some time alone.

Don’t be mad. I have a surprise for you. See you soon.

See me soon? Doubtful. I grabbed my things and headed out of the building. I was determined to make it home in one emotional piece. As I walked, I breathed. I listened to a walking meditation podcast. I breathed when it told me to breathe. I focused on relaxing my muscles and trying to enjoy the sights, even though I saw them every day, twice a day.

When I reached my apartment building, I felt marginally better. The meditation would probably be much more effective in a park, but all I had was steel, concrete, and reflective glass. Before entering I replied to tell him that I appreciated him, but there wasn’t any time.

I knew Jesse wanted more. I just couldn’t give him what he wanted. Not that I wanted to lose him, either. I was being selfish and keeping him on a long leash and yanking it back when I needed him. When I had time for him. Taking one last deep breath, I headed inside and up the stairs.

The door to my apartment was open a crack and I heard soft jazz playing inside. At first, I panicked. And then I thought about Jesse’s text. Fuck. He must be here.

I pushed the door all the way open, while squatting down behind it, just in case. You never knew when a psycho had entered your home, after all. No one jumped out at me, no one shot at me. I peeked over the top of the couch while hiding behind the door. Roses sat on my little coffee table. A bottle of wine was set out on the kitchen counter. I smelled jasmine in the air.


Almost there, but not quite. I needed… something more.


Intrigued, I closed the door and locked it behind me. Probably stupid if it truly ended up being a psycho, but it was ingrained in me to lock the door. I slipped off my heels and lightly stepped towards the bathroom. Inside, I found a hot bubble bath drawn and a glass of wine sitting on the vanity. I slipped away and checked the bedroom. Then I checked the closet. Jesse had to have been here, but there was no sign of him now.

The bath was too inviting to ignore, so I stripped and climbed in. I wanted to gulp the wine, but after that first sip, I couldn’t allow myself to waste it. It was red and rich and if I could afford to bathe in it, I would. I grabbed a rolled up towel and put it behind my neck, then covered my face with a washcloth. I sat back and found myself thinking about Jesse, about how sweet he had been, and so patient.

My hands drifted over my skin, eliciting tingles of pleasure as I caressed myself. I couldn’t stop there, I had gotten myself all worked up and a new form of tension settled inside. I cupped and squeezed my breasts, the same way Jesse would. I gripped my nipples and pinched, sending signals down below.

A gasp of pleasure slipped my tightly pressed lips. I went back to running my fingers along my skin, lighting little fires every place I touched. Finally, giving in, I put my fingers where I needed them the most, right between my thighs. Wiggling and stroking, I worked myself into a frenzy. I just needed something a little more. I wished I had grabbed my waterproof toy, but I hadn’t thought about it.

Adjusting my hips and throwing a leg over the side of the tub renewed my faith that I’d get off. The washcloth slipped off and into the tub, rubbing against my breasts as the water sloshed with my frantic movements.

Almost there, but not quite. I needed… something more.

I opened my eyes to find Jesse there, watching me, his eyes sultry and heated. I felt as though my skin was scorched with his mark in that moment. I’m his.

“Don’t stop. Go deeper.”

His voice was a growl and I felt as though he were truly holding himself back from ravishing me in the tub. Following his instructions, I delved deeper into myself. The washcloth still teasing my skin as it moved back and forth with the water enticed me in the strangest way.

“Let yourself go, Elana.”

I let my head relax into the towel pillow and continued to plunder myself. Finally, I used my other hand to tease my clit. A moan ripped from inside me, little shocks ran along my nerves.

“Not yet, Elana. Don’t you come yet.”

Reopening my eyes, I hadn’t even realized they’d closed, he was pulling me out of the tub and carrying me to bed. Jesse didn’t even bother removing his clothing, just freeing himself from the burden of his zipper and undershorts.

His mouth and fingers moved me to new heights as he pushed inside and I was forced to sink my nails into his upper arms, to hold on while he rode me like a beast.

When we finally regained our breath, Jesse pulled me close and tight to him, kissing me all over my face and neck. “I’m sorry. I know it’s been rough with your schedule. I needed to see you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I need you, too. I hate myself for pushing you away. Will you stay with me?”

“Yes”


If you’ve enjoyed this post, please come visit others to see what they’ve shared!

You can find more delicious naughty stories over at Masturbation Monday hosted by the lovely Kayla Lords. If you haven’t submitted your own story as well, and write romance, erotica, or some combination of the genres and sub-genres, please consider doing so.

Link: Masturbation Monday

Link: Kayla Lords

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