Risultati letto da "Christina May" in Tutte le categorie

"Are you ready?" You ask me in a much softer tone of voice, with a smile that lets me recognize my girl. Turning around, you let your hands run over your buttocks. I can't help touching myself. You turn back around, thrusting out your nether region, making a show of how you open your bodystocking. You hitch it up slightly, letting me catch a glimpse of your small shaved pussy. I reach for it but you slap my hand away. You straddle me, lick your index, middle and ring fingers, reaching down between your legs where you are, and where I am now. Then you sit down.

"Don’t stop. Please don’t stop," I moaned. "Then tell me." "Anything Paul. You can do anything to me with those hands." "And what do you want me to do with them?" "Fuck me." Nothing turns Ellie on as much as the thought of hands - one specific pianist’s long slim fingers, to be precise - fingerfucking her on a piano. When Paul, that very same pianist, overhears Ellie speaking about his erotic "handporn" limbs, she is mortified. Paul, however, seems unfazed by the discovery of the fantasies that leave Ellie quivering, intrigued even.

"We drive on through the dark night. I let my fingers run across my breasts, across my stomach and underneath my dress. I can feel how my heartbeat is making my skin throb." When all you can think about the day after your wild 30th Birthday party is how you need a good fuck, it’s time to do something about it. She can’t wait any longer. She wants sex, even if that’s all it is. It should be passionate and it should happen now. She sells her most expensive Birthday present and orders a taxi. Her next destination is whoever she matches with first on Tinder...

"My legs could hardly hold me the way my entire body was shivering. I'm sure he could tell because he grabbed me and held me up while he took in my other nipple with his mouth and with his tongue. I was seriously close to having an orgasm already. He let go of me just before I did, and I had to stumble to find my balance by grabbing the chair behind me. Doctor Andersen had turned to face his desk but over his shoulder, he said: "Do feel free to get comfortable. I noticed that your nipples are working just as they should and that they are very sensitive." I got into the gynaecological chair.

When you are deep into writing your thesis on the history of French eroticism, fantasy and reality can begin to blur... While writing on her thesis at a borrowed desk at her mother’s clinic, she suddenly catches the eye of a young handsome man, and the deep desire to experiment with some of the things she has only ever read about begins to spread throughout her body like wildfire. This short story is published in collaboration with the Swedish filmproducer Erika Lust.

"Five men were jumping about in fur-clad trousers and were wearing bizarre animal masks. The masks looked a bit like the kind one might put on large dogs to keep them from biting. It also worked splendidly as a costume - for a faun. It was my nymph fantasy. It had come true. The five fauns clearly took it as a sign that they should begin their ritual after I had looked at them. I could hear how their light footsteps became heavier." This short story is published in collaboration with the Swedish filmproducer Erika Lust.

"Dreams grew large in the 1960's, but we were convinced that everything was possible - even fucking your professor on his desk, with the rest of the university walking back and forth out in the hall without a clue." It's so many years ago, and yet, the Parisian freelance journalist cannot help thinking about her old professor every time she finishes an article. She thinks about the unforgettable hours spent in his office, how he would take her on his desk, slowly sliding inside her, making her more wet than she had ever been before or since.

"I just moved to Barcelona, and I don't know anyone other than my co-workers at my new job. They're the ones who told me about the public pool. In one of the pools, a man is doing a front crawl. I dive into the water and open my eyes. The man is toned and muscular. His buttocks clench as his legs kick in the water. I stick my head above the surface again, and grab the edge of the pool with one hand. When the man is heading away from me, I let my hand slide down between my legs. During his first lap, I rub outside the fabric.

"I feel my breasts getting tight and sore, as if they were about to burst. I'm leaning casually against the counter, but what no one can see is the man's hands squeezing my breasts, making the skin peek out through his fingers. If I stand perfectly still and concentrate, I can feel the tingling sensation of the small dark hairs on the back of the man's hands on my lower arm. I hold my breath and let out a quick gasp as I raise my head to observe him. I meet his gaze." This short story is published in collaboration with the Swedish filmproducer Erika Lust.

"This hotel has something unique, which no other hotel has, as far as I know, and which is exclusively for the very wealthiest of the patrons. It's called PLAYROOM. It's a place where you can pay to be the voyeur of a couple having sex. The guests at the hotel can also have sex with one another there. The exciting and unique aspect is that there is a pair of eyes on the opposite wall as well, which look through a hatch that closes as soon as the sex is over." This short story is published in collaboration with the Swedish filmproducer Erika Lust.

I got a text message. I shouldn't have looked at all. I grabbed my phone to switch off the sound ahead of time so it wouldn’t disturb the meeting. But of course, I couldn't help checking the message: "No other women can be as wet and as tight as you. Painful how much my body misses yours. P." That's not the kind of text you should receive right before stepping into an important meeting with your boss.

"The ice cream is the final dish. He arranged the dessert beautifully on the plate, but instead of complimenting him, I let my index finger slide into the ice cream. I turn towards him and look into his eyes, and bring my finger to my mouth. I open it slightly and observe how his gaze follows the ice cream. I wrap my lips around my finger and suck it loudly." Every night after work Anne comes home to an empty apartment, but that’s where she feels the most alive. She watches the movements of a young sexy chef in her favorite reality show.

"I put my hair up and find the ingredients to make a birthday cake with pineapple, macaroons and marzipan. Pineapple makes him taste nice when I'm giving him a blowjob, unlike certain other things such as asparagus. I like it to taste nice when I swallow." This short story is published in collaboration with the Swedish filmproducer Erika Lust. Her intention is to depict human nature and diversity through stories of passion, intimacy, lust and love in a fusion of powerful stories and erotica. Cecilie Rosdahl is a Danish author and artist.

"I quickly turned my head and saw her standing behind the middle window in the living room, staring out at me. She came out soon after, still in her kimono with the flamingos. She handed me a glass of ice water. I put the glass to my mouth and envisioned her naked body." Henry is employed on a drilling rig in the North Sea. He works 12 consecutive hours a day, every day, for 14 days. After the two weeks he goes back to the mainland for a break, to spend time with his friends and bachelor-colleagues. He spends his nights with women, pleasuring them and letting his emotions run free.

About the series: "I want to tell you the story of my life. Or at least a part of my life. A part of my life which is all me, but which is hidden. My sex life. That is what I was made for. It is what I do best" The world is full of men, and the first-person narrator in this series is a female Don Juan, who simply cannot say no. Eva loves her husband and her kids, but to her, they are not enough. Her life ceases to have meaning without the exciting feeling of a new adventure, so when the opportunity arises for an erotic experience, she takes it.

About the series: "I want to tell you the story of my life. Or at least a part of my life. A part of my life which is all me, but which is hidden. My sex life. That is what I was made for. It is what I do best" The world is full of men, and the first-person narrator in this series is a female Don Juan, who simply cannot say no. Eva loves her husband and her kids, but to her, they are not enough. Her life ceases to have meaning without the exciting feeling of a new adventure, so when the opportunity arises for an erotic experience, she takes it.

About the series: "I want to tell you the story of my life. Or at least a part of my life. A part of my life which is all me, but which is hidden. My sex life. That is what I was made for. It is what I do best" The world is full of men, and the first-person narrator in this series is a female Don Juan, who simply cannot say no. Eva loves her husband and her kids, but to her, they are not enough. Her life ceases to have meaning without the exciting feeling of a new adventure, so when the opportunity arises for an erotic experience, she takes it.

About the series: "I want to tell you the story of my life. Or at least a part of my life. A part of my life which is all me, but which is hidden. My sex life. That is what I was made for. It is what I do best" The world is full of men, and the first-person narrator in this series is a female Don Juan, who simply cannot say no. Eva loves her husband and her kids, but to her, they are not enough. Her life ceases to have meaning without the exciting feeling of a new adventure, so when the opportunity arises for an erotic experience, she takes it.

The house is silent. Jacob and I are the only two who sleep in the main building. I haven't slept in the same bed with Joel for years, because he snores. At least that's what we tell one another. I've always been a sensual person. This summer, in particular, I've been aching for touches and intimacy. There's something about Jacob. Joel's younger brother. Something firm and exciting. A spark that has not yet dwindled. A danger he has not yet learnt to respect. This short story is published in collaboration with the Swedish filmproducer Erika Lust.