This space represents the sights and sounds that I enjoy . I post pictures here that I have seen on the web and do not claim ownership unless specifically stated. If you would like me to remove your copyrighted photographs, please inform me and I will do so immediately. I enjoy landscapes, unique views of architecture, the effect light has on anything, sensual and sometimes lusty pictures and pretty much anything that attracts my eye. Visit as much you wish and enjoy yourself. If you wish to reblog feel free to do so.

Please note that the content of these pages is for individuals above the age of 18 only. There is significant erotic content and if that offends you please do not go further.

 

delectabledeviants:

She always does her best to look prim and proper. Stylishly dressed, hair shimmering and set. It’s something I appreciate and yet, I do love to break her.
Fuck her hard, scratch her deeply until that porcelain skin screams into pink, then into red. Spanking her bottom until it stings, until all that beautiful eye make up streams and breaks as tears fall. When I take things far too far too far.
She tells me I don’t know my own strength. She tells me that with the naughtiest of smiles.
I adore pulling her hair,reigning her in, letting her loose, tugging hard upon it when she screams, enchanting every shimmer inside her cunt with the rough and tumble pleasure pain of control, the unspoken scathe of “You’re mine”
Knowing she’s in other company, keeping the most perfect deportment, decorum, yet leaving me messages saying she’s having trouble reconciling the bruises with the scars, that each individual hurt is making her wetter thinking back to our fuck fight. Of how hard I took her, of all the despicable things I did to her, of how incredibly fucking hard she came.
That under such gorgeous fashionista, there’s a dirty girl with a soaking cunt, all manner of decorations that would shock her friends, yet the rising tide for more, the hidden gasp of what I might do to her this time. 
Of how how it will hurt so, so much. A bite of her lip at the thought of the orgasms last time, and of how much Sir will make her scream second time around.
I want to taste how affected she is. Bully her into a back room, a bathroom, an alleyway. Ravage her with language, whispered low, yet emphasised with chosen words, alliteration. pronunciation  Would her with words, ideas, sin. My hand upon her cunt, feeling every shake against me. Perhaps I should put her over my knee. Let the world know the Miss I do, as they hear the crack of my hand upon her bare bottom, dress lifted, knickers lowered. What would people think? You filthy cunt.
We could break into your old school,  your ex-boyfriend’s house, your office. What if I tied him up and forced him to watch? Is that going too far? Yet you’re soaking at the thought. There’s more than a spanking in your future, perhaps I should buy a paddle. Perhaps you deserve the cane.
Tie you up with the ropes too tight. Rob you of vision with a blindfold. Have my every want with you. Kisses, bites, scratches, strikes. Lull you into a void of trembles and tears, kisses and climax.
Yet the world doesn’t know any of this. They know the pretty Miss, with her hair and make-up always painted and poised to perfection. Little do they know your weaknesses, your deviance - and of how I acknowledge all of it. Furthermore, all of those tiny buttons that steal your breath away, that ruin your underwear, I’ve noticed all of them. I intend to exploit them. Yet you’ll never rationalise how I’m joining the dots.
And that’s exactly what intrigues and terrifies you. 

delectabledeviants:

She always does her best to look prim and proper. Stylishly dressed, hair shimmering and set. It’s something I appreciate and yet, I do love to break her.

Fuck her hard, scratch her deeply until that porcelain skin screams into pink, then into red. Spanking her bottom until it stings, until all that beautiful eye make up streams and breaks as tears fall. When I take things far too far too far.

She tells me I don’t know my own strength. She tells me that with the naughtiest of smiles.

I adore pulling her hair,reigning her in, letting her loose, tugging hard upon it when she screams, enchanting every shimmer inside her cunt with the rough and tumble pleasure pain of control, the unspoken scathe of “You’re mine

Knowing she’s in other company, keeping the most perfect deportment, decorum, yet leaving me messages saying she’s having trouble reconciling the bruises with the scars, that each individual hurt is making her wetter thinking back to our fuck fight. Of how hard I took her, of all the despicable things I did to her, of how incredibly fucking hard she came.

That under such gorgeous fashionista, there’s a dirty girl with a soaking cunt, all manner of decorations that would shock her friends, yet the rising tide for more, the hidden gasp of what I might do to her this time.

Of how how it will hurt so, so much. A bite of her lip at the thought of the orgasms last time, and of how much Sir will make her scream second time around.

I want to taste how affected she is. Bully her into a back room, a bathroom, an alleyway. Ravage her with language, whispered low, yet emphasised with chosen words, alliteration. pronunciation  Would her with words, ideas, sin. My hand upon her cunt, feeling every shake against me. Perhaps I should put her over my knee. Let the world know the Miss I do, as they hear the crack of my hand upon her bare bottom, dress lifted, knickers lowered. What would people think? You filthy cunt.

We could break into your old school,  your ex-boyfriend’s house, your office. What if I tied him up and forced him to watch? Is that going too far? Yet you’re soaking at the thought. There’s more than a spanking in your future, perhaps I should buy a paddle. Perhaps you deserve the cane.

Tie you up with the ropes too tight. Rob you of vision with a blindfold. Have my every want with you. Kisses, bites, scratches, strikes. Lull you into a void of trembles and tears, kisses and climax.

Yet the world doesn’t know any of this. They know the pretty Miss, with her hair and make-up always painted and poised to perfection. Little do they know your weaknesses, your deviance - and of how I acknowledge all of it. Furthermore, all of those tiny buttons that steal your breath away, that ruin your underwear, I’ve noticed all of them. I intend to exploit them. Yet you’ll never rationalise how I’m joining the dots.

And that’s exactly what intrigues and terrifies you. 

(Source: cypris-foam)

One finger in, anchoring her whole the other hand bared her round bottom.

One finger in, anchoring her whole the other hand bared her round bottom.

(Source: sirsblog)

Servicing The Lady Boss

eroticstorybook:

An Aussie newcomer takes the spotlight next. He describes himself as a “poet who loves to tantalize, tease and please in poetry.” Like many schoolboys his fantasies revolved around his teachers, older girls and superheroines. Fast forward to the present where he shares his fantasies in the form of erotic stories, poetry and other musings.

Stepping onto the dais to make his Library debut, this is…

markdavis31:

image

He woke to her aroma
Fingers on his face
Blindfolded he remembered
How she lured him to this place
“Come up for a nightcap”
She had seemed so sweet
The next thing that he knew
Waking tied up to the seat

Though they worked together
He’d tried to keep it straight
She’d pestered him to take her out
“I’m your boss we cannot date”
But tonight after a meeting
She’d finally got her way
“I saved your butt in there
So tonight I think you pay”

She behaved herself through dinner
Kept the chat all nice
Even pulled away
When his foot had touched hers twice
Asked for a lift home
“Don’t feel safe on the late trains”
Offered him a nightcap
He should have used his brains…

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