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Caraway Carter

It's never too late for love.

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sexy

Sir

March 25, 2019 by Caraway Carter Leave a Comment

a bare chested man holding a riding crop.

I am kneeling. my hands cuffed behind me and I cannot do much more than flap my hands against my back.  I know I’ve done something bad, but I don’t have time to work up a list.  He squats, so he’s staring deep into my soul.  When he’s in the glasses, I know it will not be easy.

“You will keep your eyes closed, Benji.  You will clean both boots, and you will not speak.”

No gag and no blindfold.

I’m certain that where I’m kneeling, my hands could not do much more than flap against my backside. I’ve done something bad, something that will not let me do much more to him than circle the tip of his boot with my tongue. The smell from the leather, the hair, the sweat, all of it urges me on. The words left unspoken because he forbade me to speak. My eyes fight to open, but he won’t let me have the satisfaction of him till I have trailed my tongue over both pairs, over the laces and the sole of his boot. He pulls me up from my kneeling position, the cuffs still tightly bind me behind my back.

He presses against me, letting me breathe in the scent from him, my body shivers from the sensations and I know this will not be an easy undressing. This is my punishment, I only get to watch, get to smell, get to stand there with that bulge pressing into my ass. I thought I wouldn’t have time to enjoy any of him, because he walked away from me, I no longer felt him behind me. The tingling in my wrists.

It wasn’t until I felt the sting of the black leather riding crop that I even remembered I was being punished. The feeling of release I always felt after an intense session with Sir left me weak in the knees. And like the consummate professional he is, he placed the crop  in my hands as he held onto me before I collapsed. We meandered to the makeshift bed in the room’s corner. I heard the click of the cuffs and felt the crop pressed against my lips; I left a soft kiss upon the leather handle.

Filed Under: Mental Image Monday Tagged With: BDSM, Erotica, mental image monday, sexy, short

Easy

March 11, 2019 by Caraway Carter Leave a Comment

A mans standing with his thumb in the top of his swim trunks.

Brent and I had been looking forward to the weekend. Our bosses had made huge demands on both of us all week, so when my Uncle Neil asked if I wouldn’t mind house sitting for the weekend, I jumped at the chance.  The house sat on the beach. Through one sliding door, across a small wood patio, you stepped down into the hot sand.  House sit?  Hell yeah!  We’d thrown our luggage into the living room and I started undressing even as we searched around the place.

As I bent down to untie my shoes, I spied his bare feet in front of me.  My eyes moved up the tanned legs to rest on a pair of gold swim trunks that left nothing to the imagination.  Brent and I had fooled around several times. In fact, I’d only suggested sleeping apart in case we found guys to be with later.  My hands stopped untying and my eyes moved up his body.  He grinned that stupid grin that can get me to do anything he suggests. He started twisting his nipples; his lips glistened as he licked them.  Rising to my feet, I moved toward him like he was a magnet and I was metal shavings, so quickly was I upon him… it.

My hand rested on his little ledge of cock.  I knew this wasn’t going to take any skill. Hmm… I stood in front of him, one hand lifting his chin so that I could plant a kiss on his lips. With the other, my fingers slipped up the fabric to his waistband and slowly slid the gold Lycra down.  As I’d expected, it jumped between us. My fingers wrapped around hardness, drawing him to me.

Still holding my prize, I knelt deliberately, leaving a million kisses down his chest. My lips gently kissed the tip as my mouth opened, and I eased myself down his length.

Filed Under: Mental Image Monday Tagged With: mental image monday, pron, sexy

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