So a few things I’ve been considering lately.

One I offered up as a discussion question on Twitter the day before. It centered around intent and perception. My thought process was in reference to writing. Does intent matter in light of someone’s perception of your writing? If the intention wasn’t harm, but the person receiving your writing was harmed (or felt offended or the subject brought up some hard feelings), does that perception supersede intent?

I tend to avoid topics that bother others. My erotica may have parts that aren’t necessarily everyone’s kink, but I don’t stray too far from what’s usually acceptable for people. Even when I do, my intent is usually to write stories that appeal not offend. I want people to read and be aroused, but that gets tricky if people are leaving in disgust.

So of course the discussion raised some other thoughts. Mostly in reference to a phrase I see tossed around by those who are social justice warriors (not a derogatory term). The idea that people need to stay in their lane.

You read a book about an issue or topic, dislike an aspect of it, check who the writer is, see they aren’t (black/a woman/disabled/trans) and immediately dismiss them. Or go on a tirade about how utterly unsuitable they were to write the book/piece because they have no lived experience to write on such things. Cis/white/male get hated on for this a bit, but someone writing about something they aren’t? You stay in your damn lane.

Many a book boycott has started this way lately.

This isn’t without merit, staying within the boundaries of writing things you are knowledgeable enough to write about. Some people are hugely problematic in their approach or understanding of particular groups. How many erotic novels written by men have female characters so absurd it’s almost offensive. Or the writing of the grossly stereotypical black person. Those things need discussed and pointed out so that people are fully aware that what they’re putting out isn’t accurate.

But… some of that is silly too.

I don’t need to be a serial killer to write novels about serial killers. I’ve written a story or two from the point of view of a man and I got no dick. If you look closely at many of my stories, I either write my characters neutral enough they could be anyone OR they are white. Last time I checked, I am not white. I’m writing what I am/have been surrounded by and know most of my readers are white.

Many stories are about emotions. You can write others correctly without lived experience to go with it. Research, asking questions, interacting, and being mindful and intentional in the writing of those characters that are different than yourself.

To tell people not to write a different type of person because they aren’t that type of person is grossly restrictive. It denies someone the opportunity to learn and make an attempt to understand someone who is not them or like them. It can be done right, well, and with a delicate hand.

It’s okay to navigate outside your lane and do so successfully. It’s also okay to make a point of directing people to those books that are better examples of the group you’re trying to represent in your writing. Be an advocate within your writing, show your research, and (if or when you make a misstep) admit you messed up.

Brigit Delaney (@BrigitWrites) said something spot on worth repeating.

I will not stifle my creativity because it might make someone uncomfortable. I am bound to offend someone at some point. And I am okay with that.

Some things are taboo, but that doesn’t make them off limits. Some things offend and that’s necessary. As *RG mentioned* in her talk at Eroticon, we should go to those places not stay away from them. We should tackle things without fear, but be willing to take the pushback when it comes in order to explore scary subjects.

I’m a chicken, admittedly, but I do want to be braver writing those subjects I’m not necessarily versed in. I do want to measure my understanding against my intent because I can fuck up badly if that’s misplaced. To know when not to write something as much as when to give it a go. I’m not exactly the pillar of “do the right thing”, but I try.

Hopefully, if I’m asked, I can explain my intent and with that conversation learn where I’ve messed up. It’s about making mistakes, learning, and making more connections, right?

I’ll venture out of my lane just a little.

The post Stay in your lane appeared first on Cara Thereon.

The house was silent, the last few guest having departed an hour ago. Her sister had gone back to her own apartment, texting Lani the address of the house got to claustrophobic for her. Leaving wasn’t even an option on the table for her right now. Not when she could be close to her Daddy.

“Gotdamnit, Renee, do we really have to have this conversation every fucking day?”

The angry sound of her Daddy startled Lani. She’d never heard him talk like that, especially not to her mother. Her mind circled back around to Marlie mentioning them having problems. She still didn’t know how she felt about that.

“For God’s sake, lower your voice.” Her mother hissed the words. “Do you even care that I’m leaving, Mitchell? Do you even understand why?”

Lani sat up at that. Leaving? She got up and crept to the door to listen.

His sigh was loud and full of frustration. “Don’t make me the bad guy here. You want to go chase something you feel you can’t get here with me. It’s your choice to end this. Yours, Renee. I won’t pretend I’m happy or okay, but I’m moving on because I have to.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” His voice was hard. “Because I can’t figure out any other reason you’d have to leave and give up this marriage.”

“I just… I need a change. I’ve changed…”

There was silence after that. Lani pressed hard against the door hoping to catch more of the conversation. She felt like a kid, listening in on something she had no business hearing.

She heard soft tread on the stairs prompting her to scurry back to bed.

No one knocked or entered. A wave of disappointment hit her that he wasn’t coming in like he said. It left her laying there wondering why he didn’t come and what happened with her parents’ marriage.

They’d always seemed to love each other. Touching and kissing every time Lani looked their way. It was scary to think of them breaking up. It sounded like something made Mom want to leave. The hurt in Daddy’s voice made her ache to comfort him.

Lani lay there for a long time wondering if he’d come to her so she could do just that. She tried desperately to fight sleep, but as the minutes turned into hours, her eyes slid closed against her will.

“Babygirl.”

The groan of his voice in her ear woke her.

It was still dark, giving Lani no clue as to how long she’d been asleep. She was on her stomach, a warm body pressed to her side. The need to curl into him made her move to roll over, but his hand snaking down the back of her shorts stopped her.

He squeezed her bottom and she had a moment of sadness that the soreness of the spanking earlier had passed. Lani filed that thought away to examine later, her mind pulled back to the feeling of his hand.

“I want to mark you as mine badly. You’re mine, aren’t you, Lani?”

Something in his question made emotions clog her throat. She’d always been his, but struggled with revealing that to him in light of everything going on between him and mama.

“You can mark me, Daddy. I want you to.”

He groaned again, the deep rumble in her ear full of need. His hand pushed at her shorts and she helped him push them down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come for you earlier, babygirl.” His hand crested over the curve of her bottom to slide between her thighs. He blew out a breath. “I told myself I had to stay away. Told myself…”

He kissed her shoulder as his fingers teased her pussy. Lani spread her legs for him, her hips lifting to invite him to touch her as much as he wanted. A light slap to her pussy made her gasp.

“Daddy.” The sting made her squirm.

“God, Lani, I promised myself…”

He nipped at her shoulder as his fingers continued to tease her. She felt him lift up and she quivered with the promise of him deep inside her.

“Please, Daddy.”

“I’m going to have to leave for a couple of days, babygirl.”

His words froze her. Leave? Mama had mentioned leaving and now he was talking about it. Somehow the thought of him leaving her made something in her heart crack.

“Daddy?”

There was a tremble in her voice she couldn’t hide. A plea that came out as a question. She felt his breath trail down her shoulder to her low back, the humid puff of his breath breaching the thin fabric of her shirt. Goosebumps skittered across her skin.

“You’re mine.” His voice rumbled over her.

He sank his teeth into her bottom. This wasn’t just a light nip, this was him taking a bite out of her. Owning her. Marking her.

He rubbed her clit while his teeth sank deeper. Her mind halted at the feeling, the pain reaching deep inside of her to some part of her that ached. She found herself writhing beneath him, her cunt spasming even as she wanted to run away from the hurt.

When he released her, the spot throbbed. She wanted to rub it, she wanted him fuck her, she wanted to understand what was going on inside of her. She liked that he’d hurt her and it confused her.

His lips ghosted over the spot he’d just hurt, then he was pressing his lips there. He spoke his next words against her skin.

“You’re mine, babygirl. No matter how much I tell myself to stay away, the moment you came back home, I was lost. You’ve always belonged to me.”

She needed him so bad, but instead of him taking her and filling her up like he promised, he was pulling away from her. Her body felt cold without him.

“Rub your little pussy for me, babygirl. Make yourself come.”

“Daddy.” Even as she was begging for him, she was slipping her hand between her thighs to obey.

“When I come back, we’ll do something together, just the two of us.”

The longing and sadness in his voice made her whimper. She wanted to beg him not to leave. She wanted to stop, but he hadn’t said she could. Her hips jumped as she rubbed and rubbed, knowing he watched. His very presence heightening her need. She could feel his eyes, sense his longing.

He was gone. Just as she was on the verge of coming, she heard the soft click of her door closing. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as she came with her fingers in her cunt and his name on her lips.

The post Tuesday Child appeared first on Cara Thereon.

–

The opening of the garage door woke her from her sleep. Lani stretched, aware of the soreness of her cunt. She cupped herself and felt the lingering wetness of her Daddy’s come on her lips.

The touch to her cunt brought what she’d done back to the forefront of her mind. Daddy had filled her full of come and she’d loved every second of it. A twinge is guilt hit her at her loss of control.

“Fuck,” she breathed.

How was she going to make it through this time at home? How was she going to make it through dinner?

Her mother’s tread on the stairs drew her out of her worrying. Lani sprung out of bed, quickly shedding the footie pajamas and grabbing her robe.

“Lani Rae? Is my baby home?”

Some of her worry melted away just hearing her mother’s voice.

“I’m home, mama.”

She threw open her door and met her mother before she reached the top of the landing. Her mother, Renee, was half Lani’s height, but was an older version of her daughter. The tight hug grounded her after her mind had been in such a tailspin. It was good to feel comfort instead of confusion.

They stepped apart and her mother turned a critical eye on her.

“You’re too skinny, Lani.”

“At least I’m not too fat.”

Her mother shrugged as she finished her ascent up the stairs. “You can’t catch a man if you’re too skinny. How do you think I caught your Daddy?”

Her mother winked at her.

Lani’s cheeks flamed as thoughts of earlier came rushing back. She pushed them away before they colored her expression too much and she had to explain. Lying wasn’t something she’d ever mastered and her mother was far too perceptive for her own good.

“Ew, mama. I don’t want to know how you caught Daddy.” She made sure to pitch her voice just right.

It drew the desired response. Her mother laughed and then made her way to down the hall to her bedroom.

“Oh, I before I forget. We’re having a cookout tonight and some of the neighbors will be by. Your sister is coming over and maybe your brother. I’d like it if you’d come down and be social.”

Her mother needled her with a look when she groaned. Lani hated social events with a passion.

“Even if it’s only for a few minutes, Lani. I would like you to show your face. You can swim and have some dinner before you hole up in your room.”

Lani know she was being told, not asked. If she didn’t come down later, her mother wouldn’t let her hear the end of it for the rest of the summer.

“Okay. All right, mama. I’ll come down for a bit.”

Her mother’s smile could’ve lit the whole house.

“Glad you’re home, baby.”

–

Lani waited until the party was in full swing before making her way downstairs. She was brimming with nerves that had nothing to do with being social and everything to do with seeing Daddy.

It was still light out and warm enough for swimming, which a few people were doing. Many people were at tables or in lawn chairs chatting. It was a chill atmosphere with folks Lani recognized from the neighborhood.

Her mom was in the midst of a deep conversation. Lani scanned the crowd and found her Daddy with ease. He was by the grill, beer in one hand and spatula in the other. Just the sight of him clad in worn blue jeans and a black shirt, made her pussy achy. Nothing had changed, well maybe everything had since this morning. She needed him and couldn’t have him.

As if he knew she was looking, he looked up and they locked eyes. She felt a wave of lust roll through her under that intense gaze

She nearly turned back around to go back upstairs, but knew she had to suck it up. It would be a quick visit.

“Lani.” Her sister, Marlie, waved her over the moment she stepped through the sliding glass door. “Grab me a beer.”

The beer was over near her Daddy. She glanced his way again, but he was busy talking and didn’t seem to be aware of her state.

She made her way toward him quickly, her stomach flip flopping as she crossed toward him. He ignored her, seeming focused on his conversation. She grabbed a beer and retreated over to where her Marlie sat at a table.

“I’m surprised to see you out here.” Marlie lofted a brow in question as she sipped her beer. “Not one to venture out and be social, sis.”

Lani rolled her eyes. “I’m not, but mom would guilt me to death if I didn’t come out for a few minutes. So here I am.”

“Mama’s a pro at the guilt trip. It’s why I’m here instead of in Houston at the Binks concert I’d wanted to go to.”

“Damn, Mar. She must have laid it on thick if you skipped a Binks concert.” Lani would’vebeen a grouch if the roles were reversed.

Marlie shrugged. “Figured this was a smarter bet. Mama wouldn’t have let it go if I hadn’t shown up.”

Lani glanced around again, careful to not let her eyes linger too long on her Daddy. “What’s the occasion anyway?”

“I don’t think there is one.” Marlie’s face pinched for a second. “Dan told me mama and Daddy were having problems.”

“What?” Lani’s nearly choked on her beer. “Problems? What kind of problems?”

Marlie looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know. He made it seem like it was marital. He said last time he was home, they weren’t even talking to each other. Daddy’s staying in the spare room near the garage.”

Lani cut a sharp glance her way. “For how long?”

“Weeks? Months? Longer, maybe. Dan seemed reluctant to discuss it and I don’t really want to either.”

Marlie promptly changed to subject to work and school. Lani let her, but her mind remained preoccupied with her parents’ drama. A few more people floated to the table and she was forced to talk longer than she otherwise would have.

After over an hour of socializing, Lani was exhausted and ready to retreat. Her Daddy announced more food was ready. She used that as her excuse to extract herself from a conversation with her elderly next door neighbor. He was a sweet man, but hard of hearing so he shouted at everyone.

She approached the grill with less nervousness than before and tried to play it cool.

“What would you like to eat, Lani?”

His voice made her shiver, but she played it off.

“A burger.”

“You want to try that again?”

Lani met his eyes and saw the hard look he was fixing her with. She swallowed realizing what she’d done.

“May I have a hamburger, Daddy?”

“You may, babygirl.” Him calling her that did funny things to her body. If he realized it, it wasn’t obvious from his behavior.

He plated a burger and handed it to her. “Eat it out here, Lani.”

For some reason, that got her back up, being told to stay out when she was beyond ready to go inside and escape. She was tired and irritable

“I’m headed in. I’ll make sure to eat at the table.”

She turned and crossed the lawn before he could say anything. What Lani missed was the narrowed eyed glance he threw her retreating back.

Once back in the safety of the house, Lani relaxed. She carried her plate into the kitchen and sat at the table. The blessed quiet calmed her frayed nerves and gave her a chance to think as she ate.

Her parents were having problems. She didn’t know what to think of that new development. They’d been together for thirteen years and had always seemed to love each other dearly. The thought of them having problems sent her into a confusing mental state.

Her mind whispered it was only confusing because she wanted to fuck her Daddy again. That sent a thread of guilt through her. What was wrong with her?

“Lani, why did you come in after I told you explicitly not to?”

The words cutting through the silence startled a scream out of her. She turned to see her Daddy standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“I’m and adult. I’ll do whatever I want.” She shrugged and figured that would be the end of it.

“Stand up.”

“What? Why?”

He shook his head and moved toward her. He lifted her from the table and pulled her out of the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” She tried to dig in her feet, but he didn’t stop until they were in the spare room. “Daddy, Stop.”

He didn’t speak, simply sat on the bed and pulled her across his lap.

“Daddy. What–”

A hand landed on her bottom, jolting her into silence.

“If you’re not going to listen and act like a child, then I’m going to treat you like one.”

He started spanking her with hard slaps that made her cry out.

“Quiet.”

One sharp word was enough to make her obey. Lani buried her face in the comforter and whimpered as his hand fell over and over.

Just when thought it was over, he pulled down her pants to reveal her bare bottom. She tried to sit up, but he placed a staying hand around her waist.

Then he resumed swatting her bottom until she moaned softly. He parted her cheeks and slid two fingers just between her lips. The wetness there made her want to squirm away.

“No, babygirl. Daddy needs to do this.”

His voice was low and raspy, and Lani relaxed on his lap. He was her Daddy and she wanted to let him. Two thick fingers pushed inside her cunt, teasing her and making her ache to have him filling her up.

“Oh God. You’re so wet, babygirl.” He squeezed her hot cheeks with one hand as he finger fucked her with the other. “You want your Daddy’s cock, don’t you? Say it.”

“Please, Daddy.” She panted out. “I need your cock so bad.”

He lifted her off his lap and placed her on the bed. Lani spread her thighs and rubbed her clit as he loomed over her. His face was full of that same hunger as earlier.

“Look at that pretty little pussy. Won’t it look good full of my come?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He slapped her pussy.

She arched up with a cry. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He unbuckled his jeans and freed his cock. Gone was the protest, all that was left was hunger and need. Lani wanted to feel him inside her so bad. She ached with that need.

Just as he crawled between her thighs, his cock rubbing along her cunt, someone called out.

“Mitchell. We’re out of burgers.”

They both froze at the sound of her mother’s voice. In spite of the danger, he pushed in just a little, stretching her lips around him. His eyes bore into hers as she tried to suppress her whimper. There were a host of emotions in his gaze that Lani couldn’t identify.

“I’ll be out shortly. Just needed to change my shirt.”

He plunged in hard and deep, bottoming out inside of her. Their gazes remained locked as she fought to stay quiet.

“Bring some hotdogs from the extra fridge on your way back out then. Susan brought her kids and they only eat hotdogs.”

He withdrew and the bottomed out once more. “Will do.”

He sounded in total control and maybe he was. Lani was out of control in every way and quickly spiraling down further.

Instead of moving, he leaned down, putting some of his weight on her. He kissed her softly before whispering in her ear.

“Stay up for me, babygirl. Daddy wants to send his little girl to sleep filled with his come. I better find you without panties on.”

She nodded, willing to do anything for him. Anything at all for her Daddy.

He pulled out, his eyes dark as he stared down at her. “Go upstairs, little girl.”

Lani scrambled out of the bed, making sure to pull her pants up before she exited the room.

The post Full of face appeared first on Cara Thereon.

Her step-father.

Lani gripped the steering wheel as she sat in the driveway of the ranch style house that had been home since she was eight. That was when her mother met Mitch, moving my sisters and his two boys in like one big Brady bunch family. She considered him her Daddy after so many years close to him.

It hadn’t felt like family in years though. Lani’s thoughts toward Mitch had stopped being “family like” when she turned fifteen. She blossomed, and that blossoming brought an awareness that had never been existed. When she’d walked in on him stepping out of shower one more, everything in her body seemed to change.

Her Daddy stopped being the man she looked up to and became the man she fantasized about. The image of him naked before her was the center of many of her mastubatory sessions.

She buried those feelings because it was wrong. To want him was so wrong. Lani sought out boys who resembled him with his dark hair and green eyes, anything to get over the urges that wouldn’t go away.

“It’s just for the summer.” She unclenched her hands from the wheel. “You can handle this.”

Lani would just get in her hours at the diner, bank some cash for school, and set a little aside to go on a trip before the semester started again. The resolution made, she dragged herself and her stuff out of the car and into the house.

Silence greeted her and she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She could get settled without worrying about who might be around.

Lugging her stuff up the stairs, Lani dumped her things in her room and began to unpack. Nothing much had changed in the year she’d been away. Old photos and trophies hung on shelves. Some of her clothes still occupied the closet.

She pulled out an old pair of footie pajamas with a bunch of hearts and ponies all over. It had a hold with soft pink ears and one of those flaps that could be unbuttoned for easy use of the restroom.

On some weird impulse, Lani stripped out of her clothes and put the pajamas on. It was a tight fit, her body having developed a lot since the last time she wore the outfit. It was impossible to zip the top closed so her breasts overflowed the top. The flap had long since popped off so she was left with her bottom half visible.

In spite of how ridiculous she probably looked, she felt like a little girl again as she pranced around the room with the hood up. It was nice to be carefree for a moment after the stress of the school year. She clicked on her old stereo and lost herself in being a silly little girl for a moment.

She was bent over, shaking her bottom and giggling when the music suddenly stopped. She glanced over her shoulder and froze.

“Welcome home, Lani.”

Mitch was across the room, gaze bouncing from her naked bottom to her wide eyes. Lani realized the view he was truly getting in this position. Her ass was tipped up and her pussy was on display. His look was nowhere near the friendly, fatherly one he usually gave her.

“Daddy!”

“I’m glad you’re home, babygirl.”

His voice even sounded different. So much deeper than normal. The sound went straight to her cunt and made her squirm.

“I haven’t seen that outfit in a long time.”

Heat crept up her face at the way he was looking at her. Was she imagining all this? She’d been with enough boys to know what lust looked like. Her eyes dropped to the fly of his jeans to see his cock tenting the material.

She told herself she should stand up, reminded herself that those feelings she kept buried shouldn’t come out. This was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself from spreading her thighs. Her promise to herself to evaporated as the need for him overwhelmed all sense.

His quick inhale would’ve been missed if she hadn’t been so focused on him.

“I was just relaxing.” She arched her back. “Pretending, Daddy.”

He took a step closer to her. “What were you pretending?”

“I was pretending…”

Lani hand slipped down between her thighs to find her clit. It was so hard beneath her fingertips. She wet her fingers between her lower lips and lifted her back to her clit. His eyes followed every movement.

“What, babygirl? Tell Daddy what you were pretending.”

“I was pretending I was your special little girl.” She moaned softly and pinched her clit. “That you bathed me, and clothed me, and made me a big girl.”

“Lani.” Was it a warning or a promise?

He had inched closer so he was behind her, watching as she fucked her fingers.

“I want to be a big girl, Daddy. I think about you filling each of my little holes. My mouth, my ass, and my cunt full of my Daddy’s come.”

“I can’t, Lani.”

Even as he said it, even as he protested her words, he was standing behind her. She watched as he undid his fly, pulling his cock out.

“I can’t, Lani.”

He repeated the words, this time less convincing as he laid his cock on her bottom. It only settled there for a second before he was seasawing it along the crack of her ass. She quivered beneath him, partly from having him so close and for how close she was to coming.

“Please, Daddy. Please make me your big girl.”

When he stepped back, Lani groaned her disappointment. It was short lived as in the next moment he was swatting away her hand so he could finger her pussy.

“If you want to be a big girl, then you have to take Daddy’s cock in one go.”

He was lining himself up and thrusting in before she could even think to ask what he meant. It made her squeal to be breached so fast, and then groan as he gave her little time to accommodate.

“That’s Daddy’s girl.” He gripped her hips in a punishing hold. “I’ve been wanting this for a long damn time and plan on giving you all of it.”

Lani couldn’t process the meaning of his words as he fucked her like a man possessed. His hand found a way down the front of her pjs to pinch, pull and squeeze her nipples. He leaned over her, whispering dirty things in her ears as he took what she offered.

Dirty girl

Daddy’s little fuck toy

Tight, little cunt

Grip Daddy’s cock

Take it all like a good girl.

“I’m going to full my babygirl’s pussy up.” He growled in her ear. “And you’re coming to come on my dick, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy. Yes.” She cried out

She buried her face in her bedspread, screaming her pleasure as her body clenched down on his cock.

“That’s it, little girl. Milk Daddy’s cock. Just like that.” He came with a loud groan, emptying himself inside of her.

The feeling of her Daddy wrapped around her, deep inside of her, was perfect. No amount of manufactured wrongness could penetrate the feeling of rightness that permeated her being.

Lani floated on that high, full to bursting with emotions.

He relaxed against her back, still very much connected to her. His come leaked out around where they were joined, tracking down her legs and wetting her pajamas. Lani felt almost content.

“Fuck, Lani.” He kissed her neck and sighed. “We shouldn’t have, but God, you feel so good around me.”

As the heat of the moment cleared, reality reared it’s head. What had she done? This would only make the summer more difficult for both of them.

“We…” She croaked before clearing her throat. “It won’t happen again, Daddy. Promise.”

He slid out and moved back, leaving her feeling empty and achy. She lay still, not caring that his come continued to leak out of her body.

“No, it won’t.” He sounded distracted as he stood behind her.

She glanced back over her shoulder to find him gazing with intense longing between her thighs.

“So beautiful full of my come. So fucking beautiful.”

“Daddy…”

He tore his gaze from her pussy to meet her eyes again.

She swallowed hard before replying. “I’ll be here if you need me. I’m your special girl, Daddy.”

A plethora of emotions flashed across his face, before returning to a more neutral expression. Lani thought he would reply to her invitation, but he simply left the room.

She lay there still, unwilling to wash away his come or remove her pajama. Fatigue nipped at her heels so she climbed into her bed, slid under the covers, and fell asleep in a blink.

The post Monday Child appeared first on Cara Thereon.

–

Her line of work made certain bodily functions a part of life. She’d cleaned more blood, vomit, feces, spit, snot, and urine in her lengthy career than most people produced in their lifetime. It required a steel stomach and a general nonchalantness she possessed in spades. It also meant she avoided it like the plague outside of what was required to do her job.

Finding herself on her knees, the cool tile pressing lines into her flesh as she waited, was a different experience. More so was the war between brain and body. The ick factor fighting the hum of arousal.

He walked in to stand beside her, largely ignoring her as she shifted to find a more comfortable position on the tile.

Uncomfortable uncertainty played in her brain. Watching him stand beside her, over her, his total attention on attending to his physical needs made her feel things she couldn’t explain. Neither spoke, but the room was filled with so many sounds.

The strident sound of his zipper releasing.

The rustle of his jeans as he shoved them down his thighs.

The subtle sound of skin on skin as he held his cock.

It was all magnified as she watched and waited there on her knees. The chill of the room made her shiver, or maybe it was the nervous anticipation.

The rushing sound of fluid hitting water drew her focus to the toilet. She’d watched someone use the restroom too many times to count, but something about this act made her squirm. Wetness made her cunt slick and she licked her lips as she waited.

She closed her eyes and just listened to the sound. It was an odd noise that served to amplify her confused emotions. From a heavy rush, to a dwindling trickle, until only tiny drops sounded as they pattered down.

Finally he turned, stepping forward so his feet bracketed the sides of thighs and his jeans rested on the tops of them. He was so close the brush of his cock on the side of her face almost made her jump.

She kept her eyes tightly closed, but opened her mouth wide.

When he placed the wet head on her tongue, she lapped at it, tasting him. Bitter, but colored by the taste of his skin.

“All the way in,” he coached as his hand found the nape of her neck.

She took him in, sucking the bitter taste from his cock until only the familiar taste of his skin remained. Her cunt wept and squeezed on nothing.

Holding him in her mouth, she sucked at him gently as he massaged her neck. He shuffled his feet closer so her wet thighs were tight and rubbing together.

“Eyes up here.”

It took a moment, but she lifted her gaze to his. The eye contact electrified her. The naughty, filthy part of her reveled in the slight subjugation.

“Such a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

He pushed in further until he touched the back of her throat. She strained to keep eye contact even as the urge to gag became almost too much. Finally he retreated, allowing her to breathe.

“Good girl,” he murmured again as he stroked her hair.

Warmth spread through her body at his words. “Thank you, sir.”

The post Splish Splash appeared first on Cara Thereon.

–

“Come over here, kitten.”

She looked up from where she’d been puzzling out a story for National Novel Writing Month to see him motioning for her.

He patted his knee and she went to lie over his lap. A shake of his head stopped her.

“We’re going to do something a little different today.“

Different? She waited for him to direct her. He beckoned her closer then guided her onto his lap with her legs draped on either side of his thighs.

Her face heated with how exposed she was, weird considering the positions he’s had her in the past. She just felt strangely vulnerable and it could be because of how he promised this would be different.

“Calm down, sweet girl.” He stroked her bare thigh and kissed her neck. “What do you do when you’re nervous, kitten?”

“I say my affirmation, Daddy.”

“Hand on your cunt, kitten, say your affirmation aloud for me.”

She obeyed him, her mind calming a bit even just placing her hand between her legs. “I am my Daddy’s kitten, owned by him and safe to be who I am.”

“That’s my good girl.” She made to remove her hand, but he by placing his on top of hers. “No, kitten, you have more to do.”

He shifted her hand up so she could rub her clit and then placed his hand below hers so he had access to her cunt.

“I want you to tell me that taboo fantasy. I want you to say it out loud while we play.”

Oh gosh, her taboo fantasy. Her face heated again as she thought on that one thing she sometimes liked to come to.

“I–“

“Rub, kitten.”

His two fingers thrust deep and she gasped. She began to rub, letting her mind slip into the naughty thoughts.

“I think about being a slave.” She squirmed in his lap but kept talking. “Not in the BDSM sense, but an actual slave. That I was a free woman and I was caught by slavers and sold at market.”

He curled his fingers, thrusting just right so her thoughts scattered for a moment.

“And what happens when you’re being sold?”

She trembled, edgy with her need. “They’d strip me to my waist, chain me to a post, and display me for the crowd. I’m a pretty black girl, healthy, capable of being put to work or used for her new white masters pleasure. They’d come up to inspect me, hands pinching my flesh and seeing how strong my body was. They’d knead my breasts, touch between my thighs, tease my back hole. I’d be mad until the right man came forward.”

Just thinking about all those hands on her, treating her like something to be used, made her cunt spasm a little.

“And this right man?”

“He’d come in, walk right up, and his touch would be perfunctory, but I’d know he owned me with just one look. He’d wrap his hand around my throat, tightening it enough so I know he was in control, and tell me he could use my pussy right there in the square and no one would stop him.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, kitten?” She writhed in his lap. “You’d like to be examined, claimed, and used in front of all those people.”

“Yes, yes.” It went deeper and she couldn’t focus enough to explain.

“Ah, I know you want to be that owned black slave to Your white master. That’s what you want.”

“Daddy,” she whined as the need to come rose higher. “May I come, Daddy?”

“Say it first.”

“I want to be a black slave to my white master.” She squeezed her eyes closed, her whole body hot at revealing the nasty thing she wanted sometimes.

“You may come, kitten.”

His fingers thrust faster as she worked her clit and within moments she was coming. Her whole body spasmed, so intense was the fantasy that gripped her. He helped her ride it out, his body a safe and steady presence around hers.

When it was over, she relaxed into a boneless heap in his lap. It took her a moment or two to realize she was crying. He pulled a blanket over her and adjust her in his lap. This allowed him to look in her eyes.

“Tell me why you’re crying, kitten.”

She huffed a little before replying. “I don’t know.”

“Try again.”

That tone made her straighten up just a bit.

“I… I’m embarrassed that I could even think about, let alone fantasize about being treated that way. The progressive in me, the modern black woman in me, feels like I should be… I don’t know, ashamed, I guess.”

He gave her a kiss and hugged her close. “In this space, with me, you are safe to fantasize about whatever you want. It doesn’t mean you’re going to sell yourself into slavery or condone it. Shame is something to be examined and overcome, but in this instance I don’t believe shame is necessary.”

She clung to him. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Fantasy serves a purpose and helps me know how to connect with you. You just gave me so much insight into what turns you on and I can use that in the future to enhance pleasure for both of us.”

She felt a lot better, able to relax into her post-orgasm euphoria a bit more.

“Maybe I’ll take you to a play event, tie you to the St Andrews cross, and let the men come forward to inspect you.”

Her cunt gave a spasm at the thought and she mumbled some unintelligible words as she buried her face in his chest. He simply laughed and held her close.

The post Place appeared first on Cara Thereon.

–

The sound of the gun being cocked bounced off the walls. He stared at it in his hand for a minute before uncocking it and sitting it on the sink, pressing hard as though it would push all his feelings into the machine. Leaning in, he examined his face in the mirror, looking for something redeeming

“Baby, I’m going to run to the grocery store.” His wife’s voice floated through the closed door. “Do you… do you need anything?”

He could hear her worry, but it just ate a bigger hole in his gut. “I’m okay, Lacey. I’m okay.”

Her shadow lingered along the bathroom tile for several long moments. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear her rattle the knob or not. When she finally moved away, her tread light but detectable to his sensitive ears, he couldn’t tell if his released sigh was one of sadness or relief.

“I’m okay.” He explained to his reflection.

His eyes told him he wasn’t, told him he hadn’t been for a long while now. Images of bloody bodies littering that desert town haunted him every time he closed his eyes. The screams of both his platoon mates mixed with those brown civilians to fill his head with horrors he couldn’t get away from any time of the day.

He was drowning.

Pills made him feel dead and alcohol made him mean. He lashed out over nothing, avoided things that used to give him joy, and could barely make it through a days work. His wife looked at him like he was seconds from exploding.

The steel of the gun glinted in the fluorescent lights of the bathroom, calling to him to just stop it all. Stop the memories, the confusion, the anger…

He pressed the cool barrel to his temple, holding his gaze in the mirror. It would be so easy to end it. His hand shook as he contemplated the relief he’d feel.

“Do it,” he taunted his reflection. “You can’t hack it anymore so why keep going? Lacey doesn’t need you when you’re this fucked up.”

He cocked the gun, pressing the barrel a little harder as he held the trigger. He could pull it, let it travel like a missile through his brain, and end his miserable life in a blink. Poor Lacey and the mess she’d have to clean up, but wasn’t his life a mess already?

“Do it,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “You can’t…”

He gulped in air, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

His last thought was of his wife, crying over his body as she mopped the bathroom tile and wiped down the walls. He was gone before his body hit the floor.

The post The Sound of the Gun appeared first on Cara Thereon.

I stopped before it, wondering if you’d receive me like always or if things had changed with the new woman in your life. My heart skipped a beat as I wondered at how different things would become now. I nearly turned back, but the need hummed inside me, begging for one more time with you before you treated me like everyone else. 

The knob turned easy, a welcome sign. I slipped inside, greeted by your scent as it permeated the room. Moonlight spills across the bed, illuminating you so your skin glows. 

I’m drawn to your bedside, unable to resist the pull of your body. 

The moment my body depresses the bed beside you, your eyes open. You take one look at me, my form bare in the light, and the sleepy gaze is replaced by one of hunger so intense I moan. 

I’m draped across you in the next moment. Skin to skin, lips connecting in heated frenzy. You taste of sweetness and my tongue dips inside your mouth to taste as much of it as I can. 
Your hand pushes between us to grasp my cunt. This time we both moan; me at the feeling of your thick fingers sliding into me, and you at the wetness greeting you. 

My hands fumble for your cock, but you manage to evade my touch. 

“No,” you breathe against my lips, “this is all about you.”

Part of me felt the truth of the message buried deeper in those words. This was it. You’ll be lost to me in every way. I want to weep with the pain of it as it lanced my heart. 

You drew me into another kiss that brought my mind back around to the moment. 

“Be here.” You pressed your fingers in deep, tapping my g-spot and making me arch. “Be right here with me.”

I clung to you, your broad shoulders and drugging lips anchored me. The tears would come later, my weeping would be long and bitter, but right then you were still mine. 

You scissored your fingers, your thumb working my clit. You knew my body so well.  How to curl your fingers or massage my clit or bite at my nipple so it zings to my cunt. No one played me better. 

I felt my orgasm bubble up like fresh champagne. Everything tingled, my head felt light from the intensity of your kiss. I knew this would rock my world, and no matter how I tried to hold it off, it crashed over me like a tidal wave. My nails dug into your back, making you groan softly. 

You kissed away my garbled cries, fingering me slowly to draw out every bit of passion. All of me was yours and you knew it in that undisguised moment. 

I rested against you, spent emotionally and physically. You slipped your fingers from me, licking away the traces of my desire. You held me after, arms so tight I could feel your heart beat as if it were my own. I loved you more than I could say and tears flowed unchecked as you touched me so gently. I wanted to sink into you forever. Losing you would rip me apart. 

“James–”

I don’t know what I would’ve said, but you silenced me with a kiss. 

“You have to go, mother.” You kissed my forehead as if to say goodbye. 

It took everything in me to leave you, but I did go. The door shutting behind me felt like the ending I never though I’d have with you. 

The post Longing  appeared first on Cara Thereon.

The baby at her breast murmured, nuzzling her with its tiny hands and swallowing audibly. My God, he was jealous. What the hell was wrong with him?

No one else in the coffee shop paid any attention to her and the creamy expense of skin spilling out, but he couldn’t seem to look away. So full and shiny, erotic in all the ways it shouldn’t be to him.

His mouth watered to taste the thick mother’s milk as it flowed warm over his tongue. Would it be sweet like condensed milk, or heavy cream, or honey? Or would it have a salty taste as it coated his palate? A taste distinctly hers?

Just the thought of the puff of her nipple pillowed between his tongue and the roof of his mouth made him squirm. There was a real possibility he’d cum in his khakis if he didn’t curb this fantasy.

A groan bubbled up and he barely contained it. Shame nipped at him for desiring to experience that, her. He was sexualizing the most innocent act in nature.

None of his self-flagellation stopped him from glancing over again.

This time his gaze strayed to her face. Dark eyes narrowed on him and he felt his cheeks flame at being caught staring. His good sense told him to flee and he agreed that was a smart idea on his part. Pushing back from the table, the chair scraped the tiled floor and then toppled with a loud clatter. Every eye turned his direction and his mortification multiplied. He scrambled to right it and collect his lukewarm cup of coffee before he did anything else to embarrass himself.

He promised he wouldn’t look as he passed, but no amount of coaching stopped his eyes from doing just that. So close, that full globe of flesh was even more delicious. He almost slowed, so great was his need to touch, but strode past.

Bursting into the chilled outdoors he drew in a lungful of air, hoping to steady himself. It only made him more aware of the tightness of his groin.

The drive back to his office was excruciating, the blood surging instead of receding as his thoughts continued circling back to the question of her taste. Even cupping a staying hand over the bulge did nothing to lessen the ache.

By the time he drove into the garage he was at his boiling point. He pulled into a secluded spot away from other cars and released himself from the confines of his pants. A single swipe across the leaking head had him groaning so he knew it would take little to send him over the edge.

Unable to fully understand his taboo desire, but bound to heed it, he stroked himself to thoughts of suckling at her breast.

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