Go with God

It had taken me months to find him. I visited nearly every Catholic church in the city looking for the right priest. And then one Sunday, there he was - young, idealistic, and sexy as hell. I'd been seeing him for weeks. In the dark of the confessional, I'd spun stories for him. I'd started slow, confessing lustful thoughts, feigning confusion over wet dreams, and finally, describing to him my every dirty deed.

In the beginning, he genuinely had tried to lead me down a right path, to counsel me to goodness, but with each passing week his resolve weakened. During my last visit, I could feel the desire emanating off of him in waves.

I paused, my foot on the stone step leading to the church, and took a deep, centering breath. Today would be the day. I could feel it. I hurried up the steps and into the church, excitement tingling down my spine. I had timed it just right. No one else was here. Tuesday mornings were always dead at St. Joseph's.  I slipped into the confessional, removed my coat, and knelt before the small, opaque window.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," I began.

His breath caught.

"So soon, my child?" he whispered, hoarsely.

"I couldn't stay away."

And with that, I slowly slid back the screen. He looked at me through the little window and the shock that crossed his face at seeing me kneeling naked before him was quickly banished by a look of hunger. A hunger that can only be known to one starved for so long.

Before he could speak, I knelt up and offered him my breasts through the aperture.

For a brief moment, I thought I had misjudged him, but then he reached up and slowly stroked my nipples. He cupped my breasts in his cool, soft hands and lowered his face to lap at my nipples, one, and then the other, gently. His fingers toyed with them then, stroking and squeezing, tantalizing the tips, sending desire buzzing directly from nipple to clit. I bit my lip. His hands felt so good.

"I want you," I breathed.

"We can't," he replied.

"We can. Right here. Right now. No one needs to know." I said, as I pulled back from the window just enough to reach in and hook my finger under his belt.

I tugged and he stood. I pulled him closer to the window and slowly unzipped his pants. His cock, which had been straining against the black material, sprung out into my hand. It was beautiful - long, thick, and smooth. I reached down and cupped his balls, gently massaging them, and ran my fingers lightly up and down his shaft, teasing the head. He gasped and I smiled.

I leaned forward then and took him in my mouth. I could almost taste his yearning and it was delicious. His cock filled my mouth, pushing at the back of my throat. I pulled back, nibbling gently at the tip, while lightly squeezing his balls. I heard him moan softly and with that I began sucking in earnest. My free hand slipped between my legs and I began to stroke myself with each plunge of his cock into my mouth.  I took him all the way, burying my face against his body. He smelled of incense and musk.

I knew he was close, but I wasn't ready for it to be over. Not yet. Not like this. I stood up and bent over. My arms braced against the confessional bench, my pussy pressed against the window.

"Please, I need you."

He didn't even hesitate before plunging his cock into me. It felt so good. It was exactly what I had needed, to be filled so deeply. He began to fuck me then, pounding into me, shedding god knows how many years of pent up frustrations. He was brutal and showed no restraint. I pressed myself tighter against the window, squeezing and stroking my clit while he ground into me, hitting me so hard and deep with his cock that the pleasure turned to pain and back again, the line blurring so beautifully.

I buried my face in my shoulder as my orgasm exploded around him again and again. I bucked against him, tremors of pleasure coursing through my body in what seemed like never ending waves and with one last, hard thrust, he came.  We stayed like that, locked together through the window, for several minutes until we had both caught our breath.

Finally, I stood up and put on my coat. I heard him zipping his pants. We stepped out of our separate sides of the confessional and he took my hand and squeezed it quickly.

"Go with God." I heard him whisper as I walked away.

Find the audio at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/52826480868/go-with-god-find-the-original-story-at

Welcome Home

It was 3 am and I was coming up the walk on my way home from a night out with my girlfriends when I noticed someone sitting on my stoop. It was him. He’d been traveling so much for work lately, that we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

"I had a dream about you," he said, standing, "and I wanted to make it come true."

Smiling, I unlocked the door and he followed me inside.

As soon as I heard the latch click, I removed my dress and, naked, dropped to my knees with my arms clasped behind my back and awaited instructions, as had become our custom.  He stroked my cheek as he walked past and motioned me to the center of the room. He stripped to the waist while I knelt, watching, feeling the fire of my desire began to burn.

I'd never get tired of looking at him. His face, with it's pitch dark eyes, Roman nose, and severe mouth was handsomely commanding. When he looked at me, I mean really looked at me, I felt like he was staring directly into the deepest recesses of my mind, riffling through all of my darkest secrets. As if this wasn't enough to slay me on its own, his body was finely muscled and beautifully compact. Coarse black hairs spread across his chest, trailing down into the waistband of his dark pants.  He was lithe and he prowled around the room with an animalistic grace. Power emanated from him. I felt my nipples harden under his gaze.

“Wine,” he commanded.

On my knees I scurried to obey, bringing him a freshly opened bottle and a single glass. It was his favorite. I always kept some in the house. I wanted to please him in all things.

He sat down in my leather chair, poured a glass and took a sip. At the gesture of his hand, I knelt between his knees. He leaned forward, clasping the back of my neck, and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. My eyelids fluttered and my face flushed. How was it that such a small touch could affect me so deeply? He lifted my breasts with his hands, weighing them, rubbing my nipples with his thumbs, and finally slapping them lightly in turn, first left, then right.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, trailing his hand down my body, cupping me, feeling the heat gathering between my legs.  He slipped a finger every so gently inside me, finding me wet and ready for him.

“You’ve missed me too, I see.”

Another finger joined the first and he stroked me, lightly, for a moment, drinking me in. When he withdrew his now glistening fingers, he rubbed them across my one of my nipples, depositing my juices there.

At his command I quickly straddled him and he began to lap at my nipple. His tongue darted against it, stabbing at its rock hard tip. Then he took my entire nipple in his mouth, sucking it, scraping it with his teeth. As he bit down, the pain shot straight through me, followed by a familiar surge of pleasure.  I needed that pain. Had needed it for weeks.

He pulled his face back from my breast and, seeing the need in my eyes he began slapping my breasts with his open palm, rhythmically. I grabbed the arms of the chair to brace myself and had to fight the urge to close my eyes. He liked it when I looked at him, when I watched him, looking away was unacceptable.  As the slaps grew harder and the stings turned to a delightfully harsher feeling, my head dropped back and my breath caught, and for one delicious moment, my eyes closed.

He stood abruptly, taking me with him. He carried me into the bedroom, flung me on the bed and stalked over to the cabinet on the wall. He came back with leather cuffs and with them, tethered my wrists above my head, securing them to the headboard. From his pocked he pulled a small, flexible leather paddle. Ordering me to look at him, he leaned closer and began spanking my nipples in earnest. The pain from the first blows so sharp that I cried out.

“Hush,” he said, “We both know you need this.”

He continued spanking not only my nipples, but also my entire breasts, sweeping the paddle under them, catching them from both sides. By the time he was finished they were red and hot and felt swollen on my chest. He stroked my right breast lightly, smiling when the softest touch drew a gasp. The ache in my breasts was no match for the ache of desire that was building inside of me.

He went back over to the cabinet and withdrew a second and third pair of cuffs. With these he secured my ankles to the bedposts. Once done, he lifted a riding crop from the table beside the bed.  He placed the tip of the crop against my lips and I kissed it. He trailed it down my body, circling my navel, and stopped with it pressed up against my clit. Chills erupted across my flesh, and my hips strained up towards him in anticipation.

He began whipping the insides of my thighs. I could hear the crop whistling through the air before I would feel the sharp sting. It was glorious. I struggled against my bonds, both wanting to feel the lash and wanting to escape it. My thighs were striped red and white.  A sheen of sweat shone on his chest.  The look in his eyes was fervent.

He slid this tip of the crop into me and I writhed against it.  He pulled it out and with one, swift stroke, spanked my lips. I thought I would explode. I wanted him so badly I didn’t know how much more I could take. I wasn’t alone.

He quickly stripped off his pants and unfettered my ankles. Leaving my wrists bound to the headboard, he knelt between my legs.

“My brave, beautiful girl,” he whispered as he entered me.

He hooked his arms under my knees and began pounding into me. His cock so thick and hard, that I was at once filled and enflamed. With each thrust he ground his body against my clit. My aching breasts bounced with the motion, his fingers gripping my sore thighs. There were so many sensations it was impossible to distinguish one from the other. The pain and pleasure blended into one overwhelming feeling that erupted out of me in a swift and brutal orgasm. All the while his eyes bored into me, reading each ripple of emotion as it crossed my face.  My entire body strained against him, drawing him deeper, clenching him inside of me, and he came with a roar. 

He collapsed on top of me, exhausted, and reached up to free my wrists. I cradled his head against my breasts, our legs intertwined.

“Welcome home,” I breathed as we drifted off to sleep.

Hear the audio at:  http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/52985665310/welcome-home-by-eva-amore-find-the-written-work

The Artist's Den

"All art is erotic." - Gustav Klimt

I'd known him for years and had admired his work for longer than that. So I'd jumped at the chance when he asked to paint me. This was my third night posing for him. The first two were filled with photographs and sketches as we tried position after position, until he found the one that was just right. I'd never felt so comfortable in my own skin.I was standing by the window, my back to him, hands placed just so on the sill, leaning forward, head tilted up, looking at the moon. There was a slight breeze coming in from the open window. I was almost chilly standing there in heels, panties and a flimsy white t-shirt. I could hear him at his easel behind me. He was supposed to start painting that night, but was so restless I could tell something was wrong.  He kept coming over, adjusting me slightly -- the turn of my head, the position of a hand, shifting the cloth of my shirt. I could feel the frustration radiating off him as he stood back and stared.

That's when it happened. He reached down and picked up the knife on the table next to him and strode impatiently towards me.

"Can I cut your shirt?" he asked, as I felt the cold steel against my back.

"You can do anything you want."

I bit my lip when I heard the first rip of the knife against cloth. It sent chills down my spine. He worked deftly, circling me, his warm hand trailing the cold knife across my skin. By the time he was facing me, my panties were beyond damp.  He must've seen the way my eyes dilated when I looked down at the knife. He trailed the tip slowly up my stomach, resting the blade between my breasts under what was left of my shirt, his eyes glittering with danger. I leaned back against the open window, a dare in my eyes.  He circled my left nipple with the knife tip and then my right, causing them both to tighten and harden against the thin fabric. He quickly sliced open the rest of my shirt and I let the tatters flutter to the floor.

I stood before him now, bare breasted, bathed in moonlight, trembling with desire.  His mouth found my throat and he left a hot, searing trail from my neck, between my breasts and down to my navel, the knife tip following his lips. The combination of his hot mouth and the cool blade heightened every sensation. He knelt before me. I could feel his breath tickling my thighs. I knew he could feel the heat radiating from my panties.

He looked up at me and I nodded and closed my eyes. I felt the blade slip between my hip and the lace and heard the material give. The same on the other side. My panties silently slid to the floor. My thighs automatically parted. His free hand reached up between my legs and felt the moisture there as he stroked me. His fingers slipping easily between my lips. I held my breath. I never wanted this to stop.  He leaned in swiftly to plunge his tongue up and into me as the knife clattered to the floor.

I braced myself against the windowsill as he explored me with tongue, lips and teeth. He opened me wider and wider, using his fingers to stroke and tease me while he sucked on my clit. My body was as tight as a bowstring. I was humming with arousal. He reached up for my hands and pulled me down onto the floor so that I was kneeling over his face. His arms wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer and closer. It was then that he began his true assault. He kept bringing me right to the brink of orgasm and then backing off, teasing me, torturing me.  Finally, he threw me down on my back and fucked me so hard with mouth and fingers that I couldn't hold back any longer and I came, squirting, all over his face. 

He looked up at me, amazed, and said, "Don't move."

He scrambled over to his easel then and began furiously sketching as my body shuddered with aftershocks. He painted all night as I reclined on the carpets, drinking wine and staring at him with punch-drunk eyes. At some point I must have drifted off, because somewhere around dawn I woke up and he was on top of me, his cock nudging against my still wet lips. I wrapped my legs around him and he slid into me with a sigh. We fucked for what seemed like hours. His hands leaving paint smudges on my breasts, back, and thighs. His cock leaving me breathless as I came over and over again.

To this day the smell of linseed oil still arouses me.

Find the audio version at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/53025930004/the-artists-den-find-the-written-work-at 

A New Master

"A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her, — the light which, showing the way, forbids it." Kate Chopin, The Awakening

It was a day like any other. The consultants were in and I stood, the only woman in a crowd of men, playing my role as one of the guys. It was like this every month. We all milled about waiting for meetings to start, telling stories and jokes, each trying to one up the last. I can’t even remember what I said that day that got his attention, but when I looked up he was there, staring, causing the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end, sparking a quiver deep within. It happened in an instant.

We continued our separate conversations as if nothing had happened, as if the world hadn’t just shifted on its axis. Finally, the meeting started and our gaze broke. I was shaken to the core. Nothing would ever be the same. The door had been opened. That part of me I had locked away so long ago had awoken. It opened its eyes, cocked its ears, and nodded in recognition. I see you it said. I’ve been waiting.

~~~

I hadn’t been back in my office five minutes when my email went off. It was from him.

The Melrose. 9 pm.

I sat staring at the screen for what seemed like an eternity. What was I going to do? This was such a bad idea. He may only be a consultant, but we work together. That always ends badly. I knew that – better than most, perhaps, but the temptation was there. How long had it been since I’d met someone who could really command me? Since I’d felt the sharp crack of leather on flesh? Since I’d felt the pure joy known only when you truly submit?

Since Aaron broke you, I reminded myself.

It’s not that there hadn’t been men since Aaron. There had. But not men like this. For so long I told myself that I could live without it, that I didn’t need it. But the moment we locked eyes today, I knew how wrong I had been. I’d been fooling myself to think that I’d ever be satisfied, much less happy, within the confines of a normal relationship. He looked at me today and something inside me stirred.

I struggled with myself all afternoon. Every fiber of my being longed to say yes, but the rational voice inside my head kept saying no. It kept telling me to remember what happened last time. It kept telling me not to mix business and pleasure. It even tried telling me that there had to be someone else, no, that there would be someone else. Someone I didn’t have to see at work every month. Someone…anyone…but it was futile. As much as I agonized, as much as I reasoned, deep down, I always knew I would say yes.

~~~

I walked into the bar at nine on the dot and spotted him, immediately, waiting at a table in a dimly lit corner.  He watched me possessively as I crossed the room. I could tell from the faint trace of a smile on his lips that I’d chosen the right dress. It was a deep green sheath that accented every curve.

As I approached the table, I was trembling.

He stood, traced my cheekbone with his fingertip, and said, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

It was the only time he would ask.

That evening, over a bottle of red, we discussed terms. Nothing would happen that night. No one was to know. At the office, we would feign indifference.  My time would be my own, but when I was with him, I would belong to him, obey him. I would do whatever he asked of me with no hesitation. I would fuck no one but him. He would never push me farther than he thought I could go. No skin would be broken. No marks would be visible when clothed. Either of us could end it at any time.

He walked me to my car at the end of the night. As he leaned down kiss me, he grasped my right nipple between finger and thumb and squeezed it hard enough that I gasped against his mouth.

“Until tomorrow,” he breathed.

I drove home in a daze and lay awake most of the night basking in the glow of the evening and of the anticipation of what was to come.

~~~

The next afternoon, a small box was delivered to my office. Inside lay a pair of nipple clamps, with a fine silver chain linking them. The card simply said, "You'll need these tonight."

~~~

When he walked in my door that evening, I was naked, kneeling in the center of the room, knees wide apart, arms behind my back, the chain between the clamps shivering against my skin with each trembling breath. The briefest of smiles flitted across his lips, but was quickly replaced with his usual stern expression. He paced towards me, removing his jacket. The candlelight flickered off of the silver in his hair.

He stood before me, drinking me in, and slowly loosened his tie. With one finger under my chin, he lifted me to my feet. I could hear the tie slipping from around his neck as he circled around behind me. The quiet throb from the clamps on my nipples moved lower as I felt the soft, slick material of his tie binding my wrists together. He ran a finger down my spine.

He crossed the room and sat, facing me, in a brown leather chair. His eyes bored into me, as if he was memorizing the moment. My skin burned under his gaze. Finally, he motioned me towards him.

I stood directly in front of him and he hooked his finger over the chain and used it to pull me closer. The clamps tugged at my nipples, sending chills over my skin. He kissed me then -- deeply, penetratingly, aggressively -- as if he were claiming me, tugging all the while on the chain.

As quickly as the kiss began, it ended, and I found myself sprawled across his lap. His palm came down at lightening speed and exploded on my ass with a loud crack. He continued to rain blows down on me, catching first one side, then the other, and sometimes both until my breath came in shuddering gasps and my ass glowed red.  I could feel his cock against my stomach, hard with desire.

Leaving my hands bound behind my back, he lifted me to standing. We faced one another and I could feel the heat burning between us. At his direction I began to undo the buttons of his shirt with my mouth. The smell of his skin was heady and the black hairs on his chest tickled my cheek as I moved lower. He dropped his shirt to the floor as, kneeling before him, I undid his belt with my teeth.  He stepped out of his pants and stood before me, gloriously naked. Looking up at him, I felt drunk with desire.

He sat back in the chair, turned me, and pulled me down on top of him. I was so wet from the bare handed spanking, that his cock slid into me with no resistance. For a brief moment we were both perfectly still. He filled me so completely. I sheathed him so tightly. He placed his hands on my hips and we began to move against one another. He leaned forward, his chest against my back, his chin against my neck, and reached around and removed the clamps from my nipples. The rush of pain and pleasure from their release flooded my body as he kneaded my breasts with his fingers.

His hands trailed lower. One grasped my left hip and the other reached between my legs and he began stroking me in time with his thrusts. My eyes closed, my head dropped back against his shoulder. His mouth found my throat, searing the flesh there. My sore, freshly spanked ass pounded into his thighs as our rhythm became frantic with the need for mutual release. His fingers released my hip and his hand clamped over my mouth. With this additional bit of restraint, my orgasm crashed over me in thundering gallops and I cried out against his palm, his own sounds of release muffled by my neck.

He gently unbound my wrists, casting his tie aside, and cradled me in his lap. My arms circled his neck, my face nestled against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and whispered, to himself more than to me, "You might be my undoing."

If he only knew, I thought, and hid my smile against his chest.

Hear the audio version at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/53159698401/a-new-master-find-the-original-text-at

Sudden Attractions

It was a day like any other. I was on the subway, daydreaming, when I looked up and noticed him staring at me. Our eyes met and neither of us looked away.  We sat like that through several stops.  His gaze burned me.

Emboldened by the intensity of our sudden attraction, I got up as we approached the next stop, walked toward the door of the car, and motioned for him to follow.

We exited the station, him silently following a few yards behind me and I led him to a nearby hotel.  Without speaking, I walked up to the front desk, got a room and headed for the elevator.  I looked at him for the first time since the subway as he entered the elevator and stood next to me. His eyes burned into mine and I could see the pleasure that lay in store for me. I felt naked and glorious without so much as a touch. You could feel the electricity in the air between us as we walked down the hall to the room.

I put the key in the lock and before I could turn the handle, he placed his hand over mine, looked at me, and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The moment the door closed behind us, there was a blur of lips and hands and teeth. Clothes flew in every direction. Buttons scattered across the floor.  Before I knew what was happening, he had lifted me off the ground.

My back slammed against the door at the same moment that he drove his cock deep inside me. Instinctively, my hands flew up and gripped the doorframe. He took my nipple between his teeth and bit down until I gasped. He continued to tease and suck and bite my nipples while he fucked me against the door. Everything about me was molten and I came with surprising rapidity.

He carried me across the room and threw me down on the bed. I could see him clearly for the first time – tall and lean with broad shoulders and a generous smattering of hair on his chest that trailed all the way down. His brown eyes so dark with desire they were almost black. The three days’ growth on his chin tickled as he ran his tongue down my thigh. Now that the initial onslaught was over, it seemed he was prepared to take his time.

With lips and teeth, he worked his way up my thigh. Each sensation caused me to shudder. Each nip of his teeth echoed by a sharp stab of pleasure in my clit. He teased his way across my lips, delving in only a little. I entwined my fingers in his hair, pushing his face deeper. He began to devour me, slowly. One hand reached up, pulling and stroking my right nipple, while the other worked magic inside of me. I could feel another orgasm starting to build and began to writhe under him.

Keeping his fingers inside of me, he moved up my body with his mouth, gathering my wrists in his hand as he went. Holding my arms captive above my head, he continued to fuck me with expert fingers, staring straight into my eyes, as if basking in the pleasure he saw reflected there. I struggled against his grip on my wrists. Not because I wanted him to let go, but because the struggle intensified everything I was feeling. He gripped me harder, stretching me taut, all while his strong fingers assaulted my g-spot. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I came in long, shuddering waves, my nipples hardening to tiny stones.  He drank in every flush of my skin, every moan.

He moved to the head of the bed as I recovered. I crawled up to him, my breast swaying gently between my arms, my eyes glued to his cock. I was craving him now. I had felt his thickness inside of me against the door, but now all I wanted was to know its taste, to know how it would feel pressing against the back of my throat. He knelt up on the bed as I took him in hand. I looked up into his eyes and then slowly sank his cock into my mouth. It was intoxicating.

While I tasted him, my hands were free to explore. I cupped his balls, stroking and pulling on them, cradling them in my hand. I reached up and explored his chest and back, trailing my hands down to what turned out to be a finely sculpted ass. I wrapped my arms around his hips and began sucking in earnest. I wanted to consume him.  I could hear his breathing becoming more and more rapid. His hand gripped the back of my head, holding me in place as he lost all control and fucked my mouth until he came down my throat in a warm, salty gush. I clung to him, taking every last pulsing drop.

Later, as he drowsed on the bed I got up, dressed quietly, whispered thank you in his ear, and left.

Find the audio version at: http://evaamoretales.tumblr.com/post/53107253371/sudden-attractions-find-the-written-work-at