Tag: Lips

Collared

A story conceived by Goddess Marquesa

A personal note from Goddess Marquesa: This story is a personal favorite of Mine because it references My number one pet. My Beautiful Borzoi.

This has nothing whatsoever to do with taboo subjects such as bestiality.  I would never consider such a story or fantasy.

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I had never seen such a beautiful dog before. She darted across my vision just as I looked up from my Tolstoy. It felt like a sign, and was- though of what, at the time, I could never have guessed.

It was a cool, sunny, smog free day, and so I had decided to take my research outdoors. I had been camped out in the park for about an hour, reading and taking notes, when she appeared. She was a black-and-white Borzoi, and was bounding happily across the field on which I sat as if she owned it. Her coat was long and lustrous, her eyes bright with mischief, her frame animated by all the power and graceful agility of her breed. My eyes followed her involuntarily, my research momentarily set aside. Read more…

On the Couch

 “Youre trembling. Youve recently had a traumatic experience,” Doctor Weiss said.

        “Yes,” Robert replied.

        “Lets talk about it,” Weiss encouraged from behind where Robert lay. “Try to relax.” Read more…

Krystal’s Belly Dancer Spell

I felt like I have been really grinding through the last couple of weeks. Have always tried to keep my highs not too high or my lows too low.

It’s Saturday night after working 6 days in a row and knowing the same schedule awaits next week…I already know before putting the process in motion that included a trip to the gym to sweat out last week’s frustrations and Friday nights cocktails., what would put myself back in balance.

Went online to check the entertainment schedule at various restaurants and clubs and finally saw what I was looking for, Rachel was dancing at the Sahara restaurant the same place I had the most amazing night of my life. Read more…

Taking Liberty

“Dear God in Heaven.”

Those words went spontaneously through my mind as I walked into the copy room. She was bending over a box of letter-size reams, so that her short, tight dress rode up her thighs and exposed the garters holding up her stockings. The supple curves of her ass and the contours of her legs made my heart skip several beats.

“Mr. Fredericks,” she said, straightening with a stack of paper clasped in both hands. “Put this into Tray 1 for me.” She handed me the white sheets and breezed by me toward the door, not pausing to see if I would accede to her command. Read more…

Interstellar Bombshell

 

 

Qal was feeling overworked. The spots on his hands, usually a healthy aquamarine hue against the cobalt blue of his skin, had turned a sickly purple from lack of sleep. With the countdown clock for the invasion of earth ticking down, the examination of abducted specimens had been accelerated. Command wanted as much up-to-the-minute data as possible before the first waves landed. When Qal had joined the military instead of seeking a university post upon completion of his advanced degree in xenopsychology, he had understood that he would be a support member of the invasion fleet. But he had never expected that the army would treat someone of his education as such a work horse. This was the thirty-seventh probe he had undertaken in less than two earth-days. Back home on Zygreb he would have had cause to bring a complaint for worker abuse. Read more…

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