RPG Janine Hart

Day after day she watched him. She wanted him bad but he was just so shy. She wanted to break him. Feel him. Know him. She wasn’t the obsessive type. Her friends would call her determined. But she always got what she wanted, she absolutely wanted him. Her name slipping between his beautiful lips would make her year.
She always came at the end of his shift. He made the perfect macchiato with a heart of foam and all. His glasses slid down his nose, the steam from the machines making him sweat. After he changed she followed him to the local trade shop where his passion was resale vintage games and signed joysticks. He loved his life and she wanted to upset it for at least a few hours. Her passion for him sprung a year ago. She was having a bad day and he made an Astro Boy joke that made her day and from then on she was hooked. His loose fitting tees that showed his perfect stomach, his happy line perfectly trimmed. His smile showed the pride of a braces wearer and the joy of being free. He was her perfect prey.
She followed him this night to a secluded venue. Some underground alternative concert no doubt. She’d done her homework. Learned his name from his work badge. Bought games she would never play. But he would be hers. She found him behind the stage. His back to her, his attention on the band. He must know them.
She inched closer reaching his collar and taking in his scent. “Hi.” She managed to sputter out. “We have exclusives for VIP guest that you may want.’ She blushed knowing her lie was horrible, but yet he followed. Her glow sticks and dropped pixie dust shined in front of him and led him down the dark path of obsession.
She pointed at the empty changing room. “Go ahead. I’ll tell you what to do.” He looked back in wonderment before entering the room and removing hi coat and sitting on the velvet couch before him.
“So what are these exclusives?” He asked with air quotes.
“Well. It’s me.” She’d never been this shy before.
He stood quickly taking in her beauty as she slowly let the dress she was wearing fall to the ground. She moved closer. “I want you.” She smiled, now completely bare before him, and moved closer still. “Don’t you want me?” She cooed as she touched his face.
A new layer of sweat broke free from his skin. “Of course.”
“I watch you every time I come into the coffee shop.” She mounted him. His hands felt warm and nervous on her body. She leaned forward and took his glasses. She put them on and let them slip down her face. He exhaled hard. “Is this a joke?”
She moved in close, condensation fogging he lens, “No. Now give me what I want.” She reached her slender hand between his legs and squeezed. “Oh my. You’ll more than do.” She slid down to the floor in front of him and unzipped his khakis. “I think he wants me too.” She whispered as she pulled his erect cock from his pants. “May I?” she asked as if only to please herself as she slid him deep into her waiting mouth.
His head fell back as he felt the tip of his dick reach the back of her throat. “Yes please.” He moaned as she took him as if she was starving.
“Do you like?” she moaned between licks and teases.
“Yes. My god yes.” His breathes were baited and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.
Her skilled tongue wrapped around his hard pulsing cock wanting and waiting for him to fill her mouth. She slid him in and out of her hot, wet, slick mouth before teasing his head with kisses and licks. She knew what she was doing and knew she was good at it.
She sucked harder and deeper, the vibrations of every moan deep in her throat bringing him to the brink. “Should I let you go?” She asked, the words almost sounding as if begging.
“Oh god please yes.” He stammered out as his eyes rolled yet again. She took him deep and swirled his penis around her wet soft tongue. “Oh but I don’t want to.” She whispered her breathe hot on his pulsing waiting dick.
“Please. Let me finish.” He begged. The power now hers.
She smiled and stood. “Maybe next time. I just love how you taste.” She kissed him softly before leaving the room.

Tóg mise. (Take me.) “Janine Hart

She woke to his hand already on her body. She could still smell the fresh air flowing through the trees. Scents of coconut and hibiscus floated through the warm air. She knew he was coming to her tent. She’d left the entrance open with purpose. He kissed her stomach softly and moved up towards her breasts. She moaned lightly and touched his head. His long curly hair tangled in her fingers, her pale skin shinning in contrast.

               The moon light made his bronze skin and golden eyes glow making him look like an angel as he stared in her eyes with a passion she’d never known. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this but after her divorce and the depressing singles cruise all she wanted was to be laid. He kissed her skin so hungrily she burned for more. She could already taste his kiss on her lips.

               He stopped at her breasts and traced her nipples slowly with his tongue before taking them in his mouth. He sucked softly at first then with a new found intensity that shocked her. Her back arched as he cupped one breast and suckled the other before switching. He was so calculated in his movements, showing equal attention to both, her arousal almost at a peak. He stopped abruptly, if only to watch her writhe in ecstasy. He smiled down at her watching her reach for him before he leaned in and kissed her deep. Their tongues mingled creating a heat greater than the island.

               He whispered in her ear in a language she couldn’t understand but his hard thick dick against her leg explained. She inhaled sharply hoping she could take his girth and whispered back “Tóg mise.”

               He understood perfectly as he entered her and took her. She tried to scream out as he filled her but his lips were on her mouth again. She moaned into him as he lifted her and pulled her on top of him. Her wrapped his hand in her deep crimson hair and pulled her upright. She bucked as she felt him go deeper. There were no words needed, the primal act explained itself.

               She dug her nails into his chest and he grunted as he flipped her on her back and slammed into her again. She screamed loudly, the beautiful sound echoing throughout the hidden part of the island. He responded with more animistic grunts as he kept the rhythmic pulse between them. He breathed her in deep and pulled away, leaving her wanting and wet.

               He bent down between her legs and cleaned her. He tasted her as if she were a rare dish, making her quiver with every lick. She was shaking by this point and his smile showed he appreciated every moment. He turned her over slowly and moved her hair to the side. He slowly kissed down her neck and back while softly pushing her down on all fours. She didn’t know how much more she could take but she quietly and hungrily obeyed.

               He slid into her slow this time, letting her feel every inch fill her and stretch her. She loved it. These were the things one became addicted to. He slid his hand around her neck and softly pulled her towards him, his tongue exploring her mouth and taking in her taste. He slid in and out of her faster now his passion growing with hers. She was dripping down her legs and he could no longer contain himself. He bucked into her harder and harder with each thrust and she received and bucked back.

               Her orgasms rolled over her in waves as he bore down and went as deep as he could. She didn’t recognize her own voice as she came. He growled deep and held her close as his body jerked with his own release of ecstasy. They both collapsed to the ground the cool breeze flowing in from the water licking at their burning skin. He stroked her face and stood. His naked body gorgeous as his hair flowed in the wind. He smiled a wicked grin before blowing her a kiss and leaving the tent. She breathed in deep and laid back, the feeling of warmth and release washing over her.

Pleasure by: Janine Hart

I came to the door, not knowing what to expect. The note said knock. So I did. With an arrangement wedding getting to know your husband ahead of time was odd. The union was made in the hopes of strengthening both families. But he had called for me. He knew how these things were supposed to run, but yet he called for me.
He called with nothing but a note and a single rose. “A rose is strong and unyielding. Its roots hard to find and almost impossible to destroy. But, like everything else, the unyielding can be broken.” I’d scoffed when I first read it. ‘Sure’ I’d thought to myself. My curiosity taking over the feeling of him being arrogant. We’d met, of course, as children, then again as students, and now, quickly, as husband and wife. Again, this, was unwarranted. Unknown.
How he wanted to break me raced across my mind. He was always dark, mysterious,… and appealing. His strong chiseled features, his graceful smile, his carved oak body. I had to admit I wanted him. But his personality left much to want. Quiet, serious, overly organized, and boring. He was so scheduled he wasn’t human anymore. God, to spend a lifetime with him. “Patience leads to love.” My mother’s voice raises in my head.
My impatience grows. I knock again. ‘Why would you invite me to make me wait?’ I think to myself as I stand there in the outfit he requested, at the time he requested, in the mood he asked me not to be in. I started to leave, hoping my driver hadn’t, as I heard footsteps near the door.
“Yes Ayana? I’m sorry I didn’t move at the speed you needed.” Dea-mon answered the door curtly. “Come in.” he closed the door behind me as I ascended into the elaborate penthouse suite. “Allow me the pleasure.” He whispered to me as he softly pulled me from my coat. He hung it in a closet with precise care and turned back to me. He slipped his hand under my scarf and unwound it from my neck, breath catching with his ease and grace, as I became less and less covered. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my existence.” He paused and looked me over. I felt the need to present myself. I stood straighter as he moved closer and his breath lingered on my skin. I counseled my conscience, harboring my erratic breathing. I was a business woman, who was still in an arranged marriage, but none-the-less, a creature of my own control. This man shouldn’t move me this way. He moved away from me quickly walking towards his living room. “Come.” I move obediently, taking a seat at his vast table set for two.
“Why did you ask me to come here?” I ask taking a sip of the handmade Shiraz, the dry flavor washing over my tongue. I set my glass down making eye contact.
“I invited you as a means to give you a preview of what I want.” His face tight and strong.
“You mean for our marriage? I want a real conversation not mere unemotional nods. Is that going to be a maybe?” I ask hearing my mother again, “Never challenge your bull, always make him feel as a king.” He stared at me with a grave expression.
“Well, what I want from my life long sexual partner.” He moves towards me, his aura making it to me first. “There is mutual ownership here. You are not only my property but I yours. And I, require more than your videos can suggest.” I flushed a virgin blush as he spoke.
“I am to please my husband, so…”
He interrupted me, “No. We are to please each other.” He stepped closer his scent invading my nostrils again. Grasping me. “Stand.” Another command, that I obeyed either way. He moved around me and smelled my hair, fresh washed in lavender and honey as he asked. He exhaled with withdrawn desire. I felt myself tighten. My own desire awakened and overwhelming. He kissed me softly on my neck, beneath my ear, surprising me and heightening my arousal. “You smell unearthly.” He inhaled deeply again. I exhale sharply.
“Thank you.” I managed to sputter out. My dress seemed too tight all of a sudden. The soft silk hugged me as his hands slid down my hips and up my stomach. “This is bad.” I whispered between soft exasperated breaths.
“I know.” He whispered back. “But you’re already mine.”
“So?”
“So, I can do with you what I please.” He softly growled into my ear as he ripped the silk open.
I inhaled sharply as my dress fell, dishonored at my feet. He seemed to take small pleasure in my labored breathing and unease. “Please.”
“Sir.” He responded strongly. “I will be sir. In casual setting I will be what you please.” I felt my necklace unclasp and heard it clatter on the hardwood floors of the empty suite.
I shivered in my newly found bareness and responded, “Yes sir.”
“I thought you would relinquish from me.”
“I thought I would too.” Confused as to why I was standing here vulnerable in front of this man I thought I detested.
“Good.” His soft lips caressed my skin as he lifted me in his strong arms. His heart beat against my shoulder felt exhilarating and new. His warm skin, welcoming, his hot breath wanted, his scent… needed.
His bedroom was lavish with a chandelier and woven silk golden canopies around his bed. He laid me down and quickly pulled away to turn down the lights. “I am a hard lover. Sometimes nothing more. But for you, I feel something deeper.” He slowly removes my stockings and garters. Moves up to my bra and then back to my panties. I relinquish power, for the first time in my life, to a man I will spend the rest of my life with. And in my fear I feel, peace. For once someone else will call the shots, someone else will carry the burden, someone else will be the dominant. I inhaled deeply, his now familiar scent catching my nose again, as I feel the satin sheets brush against my now bare skin.
“Will you love me?” he whispered, his hand trailing down my stomach to a spot nothing except cotton had touched.
I gasp as he touches me, “Yes,” my breath catching in my chest, “Yes.”
I can hear the smile in his voice as he continues. “I will love you until you beg for mercy.” I feel penetration. “And then I will continue no matter how much you plead.”
I moan as the first wave of ecstasy I’ve ever felt washes over me. “Allah.” I whisper, praying to myself that my head will stop spinning. The room slows.
“And you will say, ‘yes sir.’” He pushes again.
I arch, “Yes sir.” Sweat accumulating on my brow and my stomach tight.
“I will say, ‘whatever pleases you.’” He pushes deeper and I whine. A new pinch of pain mixing with my pleasure. He withdrew, shocking me and throwing me into desperation. I sat up, hair matted and a shine with perspiration.
“Can I have you?” he brushes his lips against mine and my eyelids.
“But…”
“But it’s wrong?” he kisses my cheek, “But it’s too early?” he kisses my eyelids, “But it’s not you?” he brushes against my neck, “But you want it.” Our eyes meet as he brushes my now curling hair behind my ear.
“Yes.” I responded, “Yes sir.” I pled.
He pushes me down and slides a box from underneath a nightstand near us. The box was about 15in by 10in and deep. “Please don’t be scared. Trust me. Even the pain will be pleasurable.”
New sweat presses my skin. “Yes sir.” That feels nice coming from my lips. ‘Yes sir’ I thought to myself musing at his perversion.
“My God I love those words.” He glared at me sensually and opened the box.
First he pulled a long taut leather whip from the package. I shifted a little against his hand and his sheets. He grabbed my throat, however intimidating, softly in a show of dominance and held me to the bed. Second he pulled a vibrator. He smiled as my curiosity peeked and my eyes lit with excitement. Third, a pair of matching silk scarves. He pulls them out slowly and ties my wrists to the bedpost, taking care with each knot. The silk feels foreign and nice against my skin. Fourth he pulled a blindfold and condoms. “I would gag you, but the screams of a woman are intoxicating. And luckily we are alone.” Panic mixed with sheer enjoyment washed over my senses. “Trust me?” he asks again as he softly ties the blindfold around my head.
“Yes sir.”
“Good.”
I feel his weight shift and I lean in anticipation but receive surprise as the whip slaps against my thighs. “Fuck.” I whisper as I contain the sharp pain.
“You don’t have to be strong here.” He hits me again, I groan, “You can let go. No one will judge you.” He hit me harder this time I let out a shriek. He inhaled sharply, a sign of his appreciation to my receptiveness.
I’d never heard my moan or scream before and I tried to stifle the mixed flushes of pleasure and pain to no avail as I listened to my own voice fill the penthouse. He grows impatient and growls low as he puts the whip down.
“So wet for me. So willing.” He mused as he slid his fingers between my legs again. I whimper and he withdraws. I fill his breath close to my lips, his musky smell mixing well with the scents filling the ample room. “Have you ever come before?”
“No sir.” I respond embarrassed by my naivety to all things sensual.
“Good.” He lowered the humming vibrator to my want. I seized as the new pleasure caught me by surprise and lulled me closer and closer to uncontrollability.
“I want to see you.” He moved faster as I moaned and begged for release. He groaned again watching my climax grow inside me.
“Yes sir.” I sputter through broken erratic breaths. I feel something moving though me. A new wash of pleasure. As the intensity grows, my body tightens and my hips rise.
“More?” he asks moving faster and yet softly against my clit.
“Yes sir.” I beg loudly. “Yes. Yes. Yes sir.” I scream as my own orgasm shocks me and moves me past want to need. I hear foil rip and open. An empty package hits his soft carpet.
“Can I have you?” he pauses, “MY love?” His emphasis on ownership makes me blush.
“Yes, sir.” I inhale as I catch my breath and settle myself. He smiles and moves on top of me, spreading my legs and pulling me to him. “Wait.” I hesitate.
“Trust me?” he asks pausing, his thickness close to my want.
“Yes. Yes sir.” I respond, comforted by his deep kiss.
He plunges deep into me, a scream released from a depth inside me unknown. The pain rocks through me, crushes me, holds me and slowly turns to pleasure. I moan loudly. “Heaven.” He whispers.
He holds and moves my body in ways water couldn’t imitate. I give in completely and let him take me though pain, ecstasy, and feelings I don’t understand but would never turn away and when he finishes I am spent. His love was not gentle at all but it didn’t make me feel broken. I had never felt anything like this. Nothing had ever pulled me to the depths he had. Whips and bondage. My God what have I agreed to? But my GOD, what have I agreed to? I blush harder as my skin tingles. He lifts me quickly, the blindfold my only covering. I start to speak and his fingers slide against my lips.
“Not yet.” He slips my body into warm water and I relax into the folds of heavenly scents and silk water. “I will love you until you beg me for mercy.” He washed me slowly, I could feel my muscles relax as his hands moved over my now tender skin. “Can I have you?” he whispered as he looked deeply into my soul.
“Yes sir. Always.”

The Canvas by Janine Hart

Paint was splattered everywhere. Places paint should never be. How could she let this happen? Again? She sat in the window and stared down at his gaudy car. ‘God. What is wrong with me.’ She thought to herself as his scent wafted through the air. He was only supposed to come buy a painting. But he never just came to buy, he always wanted to play. It’s like he timed his visits from Europe with the exact moments her creativity lulled. He came in, suave, savage, and gorgeous, and made her mind swirl. She had to admit the paintings that were created beneath their naked sweating bodies were amazing. They were her highest sellers. And this one didn’t differ.
The multicolored bold lines swirled across the huge canvas in twisted intricate swipes of passion. Hand prints marked the changes in position or domination. The rips were marks of overwhelming ecstasy and hate. She loved to hate him and he knew. She heard him stir behind her, rising and moving towards her. She stared at the creation in front of her. She smelled his cigarette before she felt his strong painted arms wrap around her waist and tighten. He lightly placed the cigarette to her lips, the cherry bright in the dawns glow. She took a long drag as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.
“You should go.” She whispered, pushing away.
“It’s beautiful.” He moved closer again.
She turned and caught a glimpse of his perfect naked body covered in reds and hues of gold, and as always alert and ready. She caught her stare and tried to keep eye contact. He smiled and put the cigarette out on the painting.
“We can make another.” He walked towards her and picked up a paint brush.
She tried to back away but a wall was her only solace. He moved closer and slid the paint brush across her soft nipples and down her firm stomach. She felt herself get hot. She tried to cross her legs but he had already found her. He slid his hand between her legs pushing them open and lightly teasing her with his fingers. His warmth awakened her again. He lifted her into his arms, holding her against the wall as he kissed her deep and long.
“Please.” She whispered as her breathing quickened.
“No.” he smiled softly as he pushed into her and her body gave way of reason and collapsed into his. He moaned deep and hard. He pushed deeper as she tensed and dug her nail into his back, splitting open old wounds and making new. He grunted into her ear before turning her around and pushing her over the kitchen table. Paint and water flew, dripping down to the hardwood floors as he pounded into her and she surrendered.
She pushed him back and turned around. She traced down his broad chest with her paint streaked hands. He smiled his devilish grin and pulled her closer. She followed him to the ground and mounted him. She slowly slid him back into her, ecstasy washing over him again as she began to ride him slow and deep. He pulled her down harder by her hips as his eyes began to slowly close. She obliged and rode him harder and faster. He could feel himself getting closer, his pleasure getting out of his control. His back arched as she dug her nails into his broad chest as her climax began to rise.
“Jesus I think I love…” She dug her nails deeper cutting off his sentence and coming down harder on him and pulling him closer to the end.
“I think I like your dick.” She moaned as her orgasm washed over her and shivered as it rose and fell. She waited till his eyes rolled in the back of his head and she was sure he was close before she slid off of him and stood up. “Take your paintings and leave the money by the door.” She turned back and smiled at his confused look. “I told you about that word.” She began to walk into her bedroom. “See you next month.”

Morning by Janine Hart

He groaned softly, waking to lips around his morning wood. “Damn.” he whispered. His love looked up and smiled with her eyes. She sucked harder and took him in deeper. “Well good morning.” He whispered softly as he brushed her long curls back. He was happy that he’d found his freak but she was pushing towards draining him. Every morning, evening, and night she was ready for him. Women usually couldn’t keep up, let alone surpass.

She slowly rolled her tongue around the thick smooth head of his dick. “Fuck.” He groaned and grabbed a handful of her hair. She slid him back into her wet warm mouth and softly caressed his balls. She continued to suck and tease him sending chills throughout his tired body. This had become his favorite time of day since she’d moved in with him.

He tried to focus as her expert tongue and mouth continued to bring him to the brink and violently pull him back. She hummed lightly as she took all of him in, the vibrations creating a new sensation he wasn’t ready for. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He whispered letting his head lay back on the silk pillows she’d forced him to buy. She kept humming, his receptiveness awakening her own arousal. She moved up and down as her soft hands rubbed his hard chest. He breathed in sharply as he met the back and middle of her throat. ‘God what is this?’ He thought trying to maintain his building ecstasy.

He pushed his hips forward, gripping her hair tighter as her sensual rhythm sped up. She moaned and groaned on his dick as she found her own wetness and began to explore. Together they created a heat that made the winter morning feel like summer. Her small fingers teased and touched her own want sending waves of pleasure through her making her shiver. Her moans sent intense vibrations through him bringing him closer to his own release. She sped up both of their ecstasy building to a much wanted climax. She moaned harder and moved her fingers faster and his need deeper into her throat. His back arched as his pleasure peeked. She reciprocated by inhaling him. He released deep into her tight throat as she swallowed and moaned, her own climax rushing over her.

She sat up and smiled at him, spent and glowing. “Great morning.” She said softly.

Warriors

We wake before or with the sun. Our faces hard and tight from lack of sleep. We rise and clean away yesterday’s disappointments, our armor placed with perfection. We check our tools and weapons,  feed our young and soldiers and march into battle. Our delicate faces brushed by the harsh cold. Our will shaken by opposition, still we march. It is our duty to survive. We do not need a way out. We need to rise to being the warriors we are. We are the backbone of society, the crutch for the weak, the bearers of humanity. We are women.  We are warriors, and this world is our battlefield. Hoorah!

Inherited Beauty

As I sit here on the bus next to a beautiful chocolate woman, I notice two young boys across from me who mirror our situation. Light next to dark. The youngest is staring at us both, probably realizing how drastically different women can be. Especially women of color. Her light brown hair and chocolate skin, deep eyebrows, dark eyes and actually nice purple lipstick. Me light bright no makeup slicked back hair, and if I do say, glowing. Lol but it comes to mind, at what age do young men develop a sense of what is beautiful and what isn’t? Is it around the same age girls realize they are different and maybe not as pretty? And then as we age, men and women, children look at us and how we look and dress and build a mold on that. Now of course this mold changes over the years, your tastes, hopefully, become more refined and defined. With this in mind, as women, we shape what men later call beautiful. If they see a constant string of women who are wearing nails, weave, lashes, heels all the time,and makeup they may think of that as their beautiful. Or they could rebuke it completely and think the women who wear their hair natural (pressed or not), dress differently, no makeup or soft, and not always a supermodel are their beautiful. It’s fascinating how we grow in this world, and what we become through the years. We are like wine either we get better with age or…. not. All women are beautiful and that should be defined by yourself before any man. But we have to be careful what we portray to young men and boys with our beauty. Just a thought.