New Year, New Us - Bedroom Fantasies #83

0 comments / Posted on by Sexyland Team

The doorbell rings on New Year’s Eve and I let Blake into the lobby. He knows how to make his own way up to my apartment, but I have a few more minutes while he’s in the lift to put the finishing touches on my plans. I trot to the guest bathroom in my high-heeled ankle boots and tuck a wicked pair of black Mary Jane stilettos, white thigh-high socks, and a red plaid skirt in the cupboard under the sink. As I straighten up, I check myself in the mirror one more time.

I’m wearing black thigh-high socks layered over sheer black tights, high-waisted shorts, and a white dress shirt, tied up in a knot at the centre to flaunt my hourglass figure. The shirt’s semi-sheer material is the perfect opacity for me to pretend I don’t know my strappy black cage bra is peeking through. I twist my black velvet choker so that its cute bow and silver kitty bell are front and centre between my collarbones. The bell jingles slightly as I adjust it, barely audible over the sound of Blake knocking on my front door.

I open the door and there he is, all charming smiles, warm eyes, and casual yet confident grace. I can feel him barely resisting the urge to devour me with his eyes, and I can’t wait to show him the real deal worth drooling over later tonight.

"Hello, Nora," he says as his fingers reach out to my neck so he can inspect my bell more closely. "Mmm. This is cute." His gaze shifts up to my eyes. "And so is the necklace."

A pleasant shiver runs through me, but I maintain my composure as best as I can. After all, we have dinner plans to get to. I look away with a humble smile, but Blake already has what he wants: me, melting in my doorway, melting for him.

As we stroll together through the city, I ponder the gravity of what I’m trying to do. Blake and I have been friends for a while now, and good friends at that. While neither of us know when the flirting started, I think it’s clear that neither of us want it to stop. There’s an unspoken tension between us that we haven’t acted on yet, perhaps out of fear that crossing a line will change our friendship. Or maybe we’ve both been willingly totally oblivious to whatever signals we’ve been sending each other.

But I’ve made up my mind. There’s no way Blake (or really, anyone with eyeballs) could miss my signal tonight. Not unless he wants to miss it.

We’re seated outside the restaurant in an unassuming alleyway in Chinatown. We enjoy our usual level of captivating conversation while silky stir-fried eggplant and indulgently fatty pork belly melt in our mouths. The banter only becomes more suggestive as several glasses of under-priced and over-poured spirits slide their way down our throats. We’re in a splendid mood as we settle the bill, and I think contentedly to myself that even if I don’t enact my plan, tonight will still have been a night to remember. The walk home is peppered with much feigned innocence when our hands brush up against each other at pedestrian crossings.

When we get to my apartment, Blake lets himself onto my balcony to take in the breathtaking view of the city lights and I excuse myself to the guest bathroom. I scroll through my phone's Spotify library and cast some sensual music to the TV, silently praying that Blake doesn’t turn around and notice that my selected playlist is a personal one I've created called Songs I Would Work the Pole To. I strip off the lower half of my outfit, including my underwear, replacing it with what I hid under the sink. I buckle up my Mary Janes and loosen one more button of my knotted shirt to expose more cleavage. I adjust my choker before unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out.

The balcony door is ajar, letting the temperate night air flood into my living room. Blake is still gazing into the distance, almost wistfully. The click-click of my heels across the hardwood alerts him to my return and I watch as his eyes widen, awestruck at the sight of me in a naughty schoolgirl outfit. He probably doesn’t remember drunkenly telling me many a liquor-soaked night ago that sexy schoolgirls are his favourite fantasy, but I could never forget a useful little detail like that. Thumping R&B fills our ears as we stare at each other, and the moment stretches, like toffee being pulled apart mid-air.

With the irresistible force of a tidal wave crashing onto the shore, we embrace at last, our lips colliding like inseparable magnets. Our tongues dance as one while hands wrap themselves behind necks and fingers snake their way into hair. I feel like I could sink into the earth with him and live in this moment forever if the passion didn’t kill us. With a fiery look in his eyes, Blake pulls me closer by the waist, our hips pressed against each other and one hand in the small of my back. I can feel how badly he wants me through his jeans as he slowly, deliberately, undoes the knot and more of my shirt buttons with his other hand, never breaking eye contact until he looks down my now open top.

He smirks as he admires my strappy lingerie, finally revealed from under my shirt before he slides both hands down my arms until my shirt is at my feet, shortly followed by my bra.

"How long have you wanted this?"

"Too long."

Blake is dragging me to the couch now, pulling me onto his lap, kissing me fervently as I straddle him. I try to hold back from grinding myself against his rock-hard cock and making a mess all over his pants. I gasp as his mouth finds one of my nipples, flicking his tongue over it like a starved man. He runs his hands up my skirt to cup my ass and groans appreciatively around my breast when he realises I’m not wearing any panties. He looks up at me with those maple syrup eyes, suddenly alive with mischief.

New Year, New Us - Bedroom Fantasies #83

"Keep the skirt and the socks on," he growls. He lifts me off him, slides out from under me, and pushes my head down into the leather couch while kneeling behind me. I hear him chuckle to himself as he flips my skirt up and sees no underwear, just my glistening, smooth pussy waiting for him. His belt buckle clinks as he frees his erection and teasingly smears his pre-cum all over my already dripping entrance. The torture is tantalising, like the siren’s call of a decadent dessert while on a diet, but I’m mad with lust and can’t even form words. I can only let him know how much I want him with breathless, almost animalistic whining.

It seems to do the trick though. I feel his throbbing cock push inside my hot, tight pussy and it feels like two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into one another. I haven’t even seen it and I know he has a beautiful specimen inside me right now, that perfect Goldilocks cock that isn’t too small or too big, it’s just right. The bell at my throat jingles merrily in time with his powerful thrusts, and I arch my back as his hand wraps through my raven hair and pulls my head back towards him. The ringing of my choker combines with our grunts, the creaking of my leather couch, and the lewdest, stickiest slapping noise I’ve ever heard to create a symphony of sound that I’ll be replaying in my head for a long time yet.

Song after song flows over us with no slowing in Blake’s punishing pace, until inevitably…

"Nora…I’m getting close…"

I look back at Blake and, with a smile, I silently answer the question his body has been asking mine all night.

With an almighty drawn-out groan, Blake unleashes an incredible torrent of warmth deep inside me, pouring his soul into mine for what feels like an eternity. He fills me up beyond the point of overflowing and I can feel our fluids streaming down my thighs as he continues to pump away –
thank God the couch is leather.

Still inside, he collapses on top of me, our sweaty bodies stuck together as we bask in the afterglow, eyes heavy and glazed with satisfaction. We lie there, joined for a while, until eventually we get up to clean away our mess, laughing the whole time. I strip off my skirt and socks and we venture onto the balcony, still naked but the warm summer night feels like the perfect temperature on our skin. Blake puts his arm round my shoulder and squeezes me comfortingly. We’re just in time to hear the people in the street outside counting down and see the fireworks exploding over the river.

Submitted by Nora from South Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

Got a steamy Bedroom Fantasy story to share? Email it to us here! For the best chances of being selected, be sure to read our Guidelines and Terms & Conditions first.


Leave a comment

All blog comments are checked prior to publishing

Brands We Love

always discreet delivery
Secure Shopping
australia's largest range
You have successfully subscribed!