Of Flesh and Skin - A Darker Erotic Collection

by R. T. Riley

  YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL

  DANCE FOR ME TONIGHT

  Kiera’s eyes widened as she dropped the card. With trembling hands she reached for the glass and emptied its contents into her mouth. Shit, was this a joke? Get the phone, call the police, now! screamed her brain, but her inner muscles contracted with excitement, drowning the voice out. The idea of being watched, of performing to a set of eyes, protected by bricks and glass, it was like something out of the movies. She picked up the teddy from the table and ran the sheer fabric through her fingers. He could have broken in last night, he could have waited, unseen, until she was asleep, but to buy expensive gifts and ask to see her, well, there was something almost romantic about it all. Kiera filled the glass again and emptied it as quickly. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and with the teddy in her other hand, she headed off to the bedroom.

  Steam filled the small bathroom as lather slipped from her hair, weaving its way down the small of her back. Her body ached with excitement and she ran a hand down between her legs. Even with the harsh cascade of water her thighs were slick with juice. Kiera drew her fingers higher, touching the sensitive lips. A shock wave surged from deep inside and her body spasmed immediately. Moving her fingers higher, she drew them over her clitoris. Heat raged within her as she continued to move them in a circular motion. Her inner muscles tightened, screaming for release, and she bit her lip, savoring the feeling. With eyes closed, she imagined the hand between her legs was that of the mystery man, stroking her gently, sending sparks of electricity flooding through her mind. Tonight she would dance for him, tonight he would watch, unable to touch, having only himself for relief. Tonight, she would…. The orgasm hit hard and she screamed into the hot, wet spray as her legs collapsed beneath her.

  Hot air whooshed across Kiera’s face as she dried the last strands of her long dark hair. The face that stared back from the mirror was wide eyes and flushed. She wound up a deep red lipstick, applying it liberally to her plump lips before finishing the look with a brush of black mascara. Another gulp of wine held the giggles at bay while she poured herself into the silk teddy. The sheer fabric was cold against her skin and a smile crept across her face as she shivered. Turning from side to side in the mirror she admired the way it clung to her curves. Was she really going to do this? Faltering for a moment, she thought of the years of loneliness since Jake had walked out, the long nights yearning for the warmth of another body, the silence. If this was all there was to life then what was there to lose? Flicking through the playlist on her iPod, Kiera looked for the perfect song. Slow and sultry sounded perfect but without a partner to hold it was too limiting. Eventually she found the song and, after opening the curtains, pressed play.

  A deep soulful organ burst forth from the speakers, mixing with the heartbeat drum line as Patti Labelle’s Lady Marmalade filled the air. Kiera started to sway. Self-consciousness prevented any further movement so she reached for the glass, downing the last of its contents. You’re here alone, feel the music, she told herself and closing her eyes, she began to dance. Hips moved in a circular motion as she raised her arms in the air. It felt good, free. The more she moved the more she forgot about the man in the woods, her watcher. The music penetrated deep within her mind, its beat mixing with her own. She swung her hips, lowering to almost floor level, then placing her hands on her knees, opened her legs wide, closing them again and running her hands up over her breasts. Fingers drew patterns across her stomach, moving down between her legs. The touch of skin on skin combined with the rhythmical motion of her body drew sharp breaths from deep within, and Kiera’s eyes rolled with pleasure. Slowly the music started to fade, leaving a veil of silence behind.

  She stood for a moment, lost in sensuality, before opening her eyes. The reality of what she’d just done hit her and she grabbed a robe from the bed, wrapping it tight around her almost naked body. Walking to the window, she tried to contain her smile, but it forced its way through, slicing her face from ear to ear. “I hope that’s what you wanted,” she mouthed at the glass before sliding the drapes across the thick wooden pole, obscuring the view from outside.

  September 23rd, 2012

  The morning’s mail brought no new notes. Maybe it had all been some kind of joke, or maybe she couldn’t dance as sexily as she thought. Slipping on a pair of Nikes, Kiera headed out the door for a run. The cool morning air forced its way into her lungs, clearing out the residual hangover as her feet found their stride. Confusion hung over her like a cloud of molten rock, and as much as she tried to clear her head, it deepened in thickness and heat. Veering from the path, she maneuvered around aged roots, making her way back to the point in the trees. Even from a distance she could see something sitting on the ground. It glistened in the sunlight sending shards of rainbows into the low-lying leaves. Slowing, she glanced around, looking for any signs of life, but apart from the odd flurry of birds, there was none. The shape took form, growing in size as she drew nearer. It was a box. No, two boxes, wrapped in pearlescent paper.

  An envelope lay across the top. Kiera picked it up, smiling as the warm glow in her stomach reignited. She opened it and slid the card from within.

  YOU DANCE LIKE A GODDESS.

  INGRES’ ODALISQUE IS NOTHING

  COMPARED TO YOUR BEAUTY.

  I DO HOPE YOU WISH TO CONTINUE.

  LEAVE YOUR NUMBER HERE AND DO NOT

  OPEN THE BOXES UNTIL INSTRUCTED.

  Kiera’s hand shot to her mouth. An art lover also, and to be compared to a courtesan was hot as hell. Without even thinking, she wrapped her fingers around the pen and scribbled her number.

  Paint dried on the end of the brush as Kiera stared at the canvas, her head swimming with endless possibilities. Her cell phone sat on the end of the easel, its uneasy silence adding to the distraction. Why won’t you call, she though, checking the phone for missed calls. There were none, why should there be. She hadn’t let it out of her sight since getting back from her run. Grabbing an old rag, she threw it over the top of the cell, returning her focus to the painting. It was no good. Sexual tension flowed through her as easily as the blood in her veins, and she dropped the brush into a jar of turpentine and headed to the kitchen.

  A simple salad with crusty bread and a large glass of wine accompanied Kiera at the table. At five thirty it would normally be too early for alcohol but there was nothing normal about her life any more. The table vibrated under her hands, quickly followed by a single beep. She grabbed the phone and flipped the screen open. Number withheld.

  ARE YOU READY TO PLAY?

  OPEN THE LARGE BOX AND GET DRESSED.

  Kiera filled her mouth with wine, swallowing hard, and removed the lid of the first box.

  An Egyptian princess stared at her from beyond the glass of the full-length mirror, her breasts adorned with a jewel-studded bra that matched the belt around the flowing chiffon skirt. The tiny gem covered panties glittered through the sheer fabric. Kiera swayed her hips, watching the movement of colors. A faint glassy chime echoed of the walls of the room, singing its approval. The phone beeped.

  STAND IN FRONT OF THE WINDOW.

  She did as ordered, phone in hand, waiting. Belly dancing wasn’t something she’d ever considered and she really hoped she could do a good enough job.

  SLOWLY DROP YOUR SHOULDER STRAPS.

  REMOVE YOUR BRA.

  STAND STILL FOR YOUR NEXT INSTRUCTION.

  Kiera’s breath caught in her throat. A small part of her wanted to run away and hide but the fire in her belly kept her rooted to the spot. Slowly, she hooked a finger under the elasticated strap and moved it down her shoulder. The feeling of nails against her skin sent shivers everywhere.

  The strap moved downward, bit by bit, then the other one. Bending her arms behind her back, she unhooked the catch and let the bra fall to the floor. Standing, naked from the waist up in front of the window, she reveled in the sensation. Her small breasts on display, nipples hard with excitement, she wanted to touch t
hem, to run her hands across their tender tips, but her instructions were to stay still. She waited, anticipation building deep within her stomach, forcing a low groan from her lips.

  GOOD GIRL.

  NOW REMOVE YOUR SKIRT AND PANTIES.

  The waistband of the skirt slipped easily over her hips, a thousand tiny bells chimed on its journey to the floor. Her skin was on fire as she slid the panties down her thighs, stepping out of them before resuming her position. They were already wet with her juices as her body begged for attention.

  GET ON THE BED.

  OPEN THE SECOND BOX.

  Her hands and knees slid across the satin sheet, its coolness in sharp contrast to the heat of her body. Settling down in the center of the bed, she pulled the box towards her and removed the lid. Inside was a large vibrator. Kiera grabbed the lid and slammed it back onto the box. Deep breaths, baby girl; that’s it. Slowly pushing the cardboard back again, she took the toy in her hand. It was almost warm to the touch; soft, and her fingers wandered over the array of buttons on the shaft. She’d never held one before let alone used one and the idea scared her. Her thumb brushed against one of the buttons and it jumped to life, sending the sensation deep into her palm. She dropped it on the bed, nervous giggles escaping from her throat.

  MY PLEASURE IS YOUR PLEASURE.

  I WANT TO WATCH YOU ORGASM

  OVER AND OVER.

  BUT IF YOU DON’T WANT TO PLAY,

  WE CAN END THIS NOW.

  Kiera’s eyes widened as she read the message. We can end this? The thought ripped at her heart, tearing through any lasting sanity, leaving a desperate desire to please in its wake. She took the vibrator in her hand again, lay back onto the bed, and turned it on. Fingers traced the outline of her breasts as she breathed deeply, her touch, his touch, one and the same. Opening her legs, she ran the tip of the device up the inside of her thigh, The tingling radiated outward and her inner muscles clenched with pleasure. Moving upwards, she ran the head over her lips, parting them.

  She hissed through clenched teeth as she took the toy, slowly at first, then deep inside her, its latex fingers massaging her clitoris. The build-up was sudden, every part of her screamed at once as she exploded around the object, panting as her body convulsed in time with her heartbeat. She ran a hand across the smooth skin of her stomach, relishing the aftershocks, before starting to fuck herself again.

  September 24th, 2012

  The sound of birds drifted into the bedroom and Kiera opened her eyes, blinking against the harsh sunlight. What time was it? She turned to reach for the clock, stopping to relish the warm ache that radiated throughout her body. So this is what it should be like, she thought, running her hand between her legs. She was sore to the touch, but it didn’t stop her body reacting. Juice flowed from between her swollen lips, coating her fingers, and she lifted them to her mouth, sucking them dry. Deep inside her stomach, a ball of fire ignited and she groaned as it spread throughout her. More than anything, she wanted to stay beneath the covers, to sink into a passion-filled delirium, but the canvas wouldn’t paint itself and they were expecting delivery tomorrow. Crawling from the bed, she staggered to the bathroom and turned the shower onto hot.

  The sun was low in the sky by the time she put the brushes away. It had been easy to lose herself in the painting, imagining every brushstroke was his hands on her skin. A whisper of a smile crossed her face as she wiped her palms in the rag, stepping back to admire her work. The vibrancy of the colors, the ease of stroke, there was an almost erotic feel to the work. Kiera wrapped her arms around herself, basking in the post-creative glow. Her hand brushed against something hard in the pocket of her painters smock. Shit, she’d turned her phone off to avoid distractions and now it was almost dusk. Pressing the button down, she tapped her foot, waiting for the screen to light up. Hours had gone by since she’d thought of her mystery man, and now her body responded with renewed vigor. Goosebumps spread across her skin as the display announced a new message, her hand shaking as she opened it.

  YOU HAVEN’T PICKED UP YOUR MAIL.

  HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH?

  The door of the studio slammed open, the handle taking a chunk of plaster out of the wall beside it. Kiera didn’t notice. She ran through the hallway, bare feet slipping on the wooden floor as she turned the corner to the front of the house. There was nothing by the front door. A wave of disappointment washed over her as she slowed to a stop. Why would he tell her to check the mail and not send anything? A thought popped into her head and she opened the door.

  On the step outside was another parcel. Her ego gave a shout of joy as she bent to pick it up, her grin threatening to slice her face in half. Pangs of desire played her inner muscles like a harpsichord as she ran into the kitchen. With an ice-cold glass of Chardonnay in one hand, she settled onto a stool, ripping the wrapping of the box. On the top lay another exquisitely hand-written card.

  THESE WILL FIT THROUGH THE

  RAILS IN YOUR HEADBOARD.

  WEAR ONLY WHAT IS IN THE BOX.

  LEAVE THE DOORS OPEN.

  I WANT TO SMELL YOU

  TO FEEL YOU

  TO TASTE YOU

  NO MORE GAMES.

  Her breath caught in her throat, releasing with a deep moan as her insides turned to jelly. Yes, she wanted to feel him, needed him inside her. Ghost fingers ran the length of her spine, her body juddering against their touch. She pulled back the tissue paper revealing a pair of black latex boots, a black satin blindfold, and satin covered handcuffs. Her heart pounded through her chest and the inside of her thighs dampened as she ran a hand over the sleek blackness of the boots. Gulping down the wine, she hunted the cupboards, barely able to contain her excitement. Finding what she was looking for she grabbed the box and raced up the stairs.

  Turning off the bedroom light, she lit candles one at a time, their flickering shadows licking at her skin as she slid the latex over her feet and up to her thighs. She felt like a whore, a dirty little slut, a courtesan. No questions, no second thoughts, she was his and his alone to do with as he pleased. The idea was intoxicating. Turning the key in the doors, she stared through the glass, looking for any sign of life. There was no movement but she could sense him out beyond the tree-line, watching, waiting for her to ready herself for him. Dropping her smock to the floor she lay on the bed and slid the blindfold onto her forehead. Underwear; she’d forgotten all about that. Lifting her bum off the sheet, she hooked her thumbs into the side of her panties, pushing them down over the skin-tight boots. They caught on the heels and she kicked out, sending them flying into the corner, then, sitting back up, she unhooked the back of her bra and sent it off after the panties.

  After a quick mental check, she lay back down. The handcuffs were cold to the touch and she wrapped the satin covered metal around one of her wrists. It clicked together, tightening as she pushed against it. Short, sharp breaths escaped her now, her body alight with the thought of him. Pulling the blindfold down across her eyes, she reached up and hooked the cuffs around the headboard, clasping them tight around her other wrist.

  Darkness and silence became her world as she lay, arms secure above her head, waiting. In her mind he came for her. His hands gentle, running over her breasts, his mouth closing over her taut nipples, sucking, teasing, before leaving a fiery trail of kisses down over her stomach. She opened her legs. Hot breath weaving its way through her finely trimmed pubic hair, then he was kissing her, pushing his tongue inside her. Her breath came in gasps now, interspersed with moans and sighs. Her skin was electric; her body pulsed, begged for release.

  Click.

  A cool breeze washed over her, bringing with it the sounds of the night. Kiera lay silent as the air froze in her lungs. Soft steady clumping, rubber on wood. Louder. Closer. She exhaled, taking in the acrid scent of stale sweat as she filled her lungs once more. No, this was wrong. She pulled at the cuffs, twisting her wrists.

  “Now, now. Aren’t you a pretty sight.” Rough, calloused hands grabbed at he
r breasts squeezing them tightly, twisting her nipples.

  She started to scream but his mouth cut her short, his teeth slicing into her lips.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner,” he said, his stubble grating at the skin on her cheek. “I still have scars from the last girl. This is so much easier.”

  Tears cascaded down her face as his hands moved down her body. “Why are you doing this? I thought…”

  He grabbed her face, crushing her mouth closed. “You thought? That’s your problem. You fucking arty types. Throw a few well-chosen words your way and you’ll fuck anything.” He wedged a knee between her legs, forcing them open, ramming his fingers inside her. She pushed back on the bed with her feet but he followed her movement. Pain soared through her as his fingernails ripped through her vaginal walls, her sobs masked by the low chuckle emanating from his mouth. Shifting his weight, he climbed on top of her, his stale breath blasting her face.