Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Saving Mr. Hunt

“As terrible as it all was, Damian, it’s what made us strong enough to handle everything that’s happened since. I think if we didn’t experience its hardship, we’d crumble now. We’re survivors, Damian, not victims.”

He places his forehead against my lips, his eyes shut tightly. He lets out a shaky breath. I know he’s fighting back his emotions. He always tries to be a rock for me, but under the weight of time, even rocks can crumble. It’s only a matter of time.

“You’re so much stronger than I am,” he murmurs.

My heart melts into a puddle of emotion. Here, my husband, my pillar of strength, my protector, revealing the kinks in his armor.

Knowing how it calms him, I comb my fingers through his hair, kissing him across his face.

“I want to be your strength, Damian.” My lips hover over his now. “I want to be your salvation.”

He exhales the breath he’s been holding into my mouth, breathing life into my lungs. He is the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. He is my entire existence, and I’m desperately happy to give it all to him.

Saying the words I didn’t know I needed to hear, “I’ll love you until the end of eternity,” I take his mouth onto mine, lifting myself onto the tip of his swollen head.

I let him take refuge in my body, harboring him in the depths of my womb.


Friday, October 28, 2016

Happy Birthday, Mr. Hunt! (EXCERPT)

I’d planned Hunt’s Birthday, wanting to do something amazing for him, but it couldn’t have gone worse if I’d planned it…

I had woken him with breakfast in bed, but when his eyes opened, I could see he wasn’t in a good mood. He choked down his breakfast almost reluctantly, as if he were only doing it for my sake. I knew something was really wrong then. He loved my cooking, devoured every bite as if it was his first and last meal.

I shook it off. I was hell-bent on making it a wonderful day for him, to change it from a day of mourning his parents’ deaths to a day of celebrating his life.

While we were in the shower, I gave him his first birthday present, my hungry mouth wrapped about his cock. Though he enjoyed it, he seemed distant.

I’d begged him to stay home with me, but he insisted on going into the office. Even though it hurt me, I understood he needed time to lose himself in work. It also gave me time to put the finishing touches on my plans. I asked him not to work late and he promised he wouldn’t. With that, he left me, and I set out on my day.

I had spent it thinking about him and running errands. I wanted everything to be perfect. No detail left undone.

Later that evening, when everything was ready, Liam called to let me know they were about to arrive home. Everyone hid behind couches and chairs, anywhere they could find, dressed in their costumes, giggling to each other. When we heard the elevator open, the lights came on and everyone jumped up to yell, “Surprise!”

The look on his face was devastating. His jaw was clenched and his mouth was in a sharp line, brows furrowed, face a vibrant red. He stared me down with a look I’ve never seen from him before, as if I’d betrayed him. He turned without a word and got back in the elevator. Just as the doors were about to shut, I slid in next to him.
He didn’t look at me or acknowledge my presence. It had killed me.

“Would you please say something?” I pleaded with him.

“What do you want me to say?” His eyes remained on the elevator doors.

“Why did you leave?”

He whipped around, pinning me against the wall. “Why the fuck did you do this, Gabrielle? You know I hate my birthday, you know it brings me nothing but pain. Why would you think I’d want to celebrate that?”

“I was hoping I could change it for you, make it a day of happiness. I see this as a day to celebrate…It was the day you came into this world, the day that started your journey toward me. I think that’s worth celebrating.”

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing away from me.

“I can’t do this right now,” he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t be here.”

“Where are you going to go?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Damian, don’t be this way. Please. I love you. I want to spend your birthday with you.”

The doors opened into the underground garage and he stepped out. “I’ll be home later.”

I stood there, watching him walk away, too scared to go after him.

Later, well after two, he finally came home, smelling of expensive whiskey and cigar smoke. I could smell it across the room. I’d pretended I was asleep as he undressed and headed to the shower to rinse some of the stink off him. When he was done, he came to bed and crawled in behind me. He scooped his arm about my waist and brings me into his very naked body, squeezing me.

He kissed me on the neck tenderly and whispered, “I’m sorry, angel. I’m sorry I’m so fucked up.”

I turned to him, shifting in his grasp.

“I know you’re sorry. But you aren’t fucked up. You’re wonderful, flaws and all.”

“I still miss them, Elle. I would give anything to have them back.”

He broke down, and I enfolded myself about him, holding his head against my chest. I held him until he cried himself out, falling asleep in my loving embrace.


I laid awake that night, replaying his words in my head. They broke my heart, because unlike so many, he had the means to back up his statement. He could obtain anything he desired, except the one thing he’d give it all up to have. It couldn’t be bought. And I couldn’t fix it. 


copyright © Lena Black

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

That Body

“I’ll never get enough of that body,” Damian says from behind me, startling me. He’s leaning on the frame of our bedroom door, his emerald eyes dull and fatigued.

“Slick,” I murmur with a saddened quiver.

“Don’t. I just want to get into that bath with you right now and forget.”

“I want that too,” I agree, knowing how devastated he must be, knowing my body is his sanctuary. 


copyright © Lena Black

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Hunt's Passion

The doors open directly into the two-story high, main living area. It’s breathtaking. It isn’t what I expected, which was a cold, modern, sterile environment, but this space is masculine and cozy, inviting me to stay awhile. The walls are painted a dark shade of gray, with black and white photos of landmarks around San Francisco and the world, adorning them. They contain a depth and beauty that captures the photographer’s view of the world. They are truly exceptional.

A DOMINANT MAN
A DOMINANT MAN
© 2014 Lena Black








The Women of Hunt

The following Friday, Damian leaves for a conference in San Diego. Saturday, I pick up Brooke. She seems tense the whole ride. She taps her leg and clenches the handle on the door. She’s usually confident and cool. She holds her head up high and looks you right in the eye. But the person sitting next to me is a mess, a little girl with serious confidence issues.

“You’re going to be fine,” I assure her.

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Trust me.”

“How did I let you talk me into this?”

“I know…And you’re a lawyer. I must’ve made one hell of an argument.”

“If I didn’t love you and Damian so much I would never consider doing this in a million damn years. I’d be safer sticking my head in an alligator’s mouth.”

“I think you’re being dramatic.”

We pull up to the beautiful Victorian and get out. Brooke hesitates on the wet sidewalk, her hands clasped in front of her. She’s staring down at her heeled feet. I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s so submissive. I slide my arm through hers, giving it an assuring squeeze. She nods when she’s ready. I lead her to the door and ring the bell twice.

“This is a crazy idea,” she comments before the door opens and Marlena appears looking like business in her onyx suit. She isn’t wearing a camisole under the jacket, her impressive cleavage peeking out of the top. She’s all sex and Dominant bravado.

“Hello, kitten,” she purrs, giving me the fuck me eyes she has down to a science.

“Hello, Marlena,” I greet her.

Her eyes move to Brooke standing so close to me, you’d swear we were Siamese twins.

“You’re looking well, Miss Evans.” She smiles at her.

I think Brooke is unsure of her authenticity, but smiles tightly back at her.

“Hello.”

She straightens out her shoulders and lifts her head up high, retaining the Brooke I know and love.


“Please, come in.”


copyright © Lena Black

Friday, September 16, 2016

F*ck It Out...

“If you aren’t going to willingly talk to me, I’m going to fuck it out of you.” He ties something about my wrists, binding them together and leaving me powerless against him. Not that he needs restraints to do it.

His hand clasps onto the back of my neck, holding me in place, while his other hand roams my thighs and rear. His thumb slides along my crack and grazes my tight pucker. When I moan and shove my ass back into his hand, I’m finally rewarded with a firm smack, dead center, catching both cheeks and my aroused slit.

He leans over me, his weight pressing into my back. “Don’t move,” he snarls into my ear.

“Yes, Mr. Hunt.”

“Good girl,” he praises, plunging his thumb into my ass. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“You should know,” I snap, still angry about his lies and now his effect on me. “You know everything, don’t you?”

“Oh, Gabrielle, wrong fucking answer.” Suddenly, the plump head of his cock parts my saturated lips, gliding up and down my sex, spreading my wetness, heightening my arousal. It teases my clit, forcing me to spasm and groan. He lines himself up with my constricting entrance, taunting me with his presence.

“Are you going to be a good girl and tell me why you’re upset? Or, are you going to be a wicked little thing and make me torture this sweet cunt until you beg?”

“I don’t…know,” I pant.

“Unacceptable,” he growls, slapping me across both cheeks and slamming himself balls deep only to extract himself again. “Come on, Elle. Stop fighting it.”

I struggle with my restraint and snap my legs shut. This is not what he wants. His hand comes down on each cheek swiftly, and his legs spread mine back apart, pinning them open. He pumps a few shallow thrusts, twisting his hand in my hair and roughly yanking it back so my head flies up and my back arcs violently. His other hand slithers about my waist and down to my throbbing apex, cupping it in his palm. “When will you learn, I own this…? I own you, body, mind, soul.”

His finger dips between my plump lips, slowly rubbing my clit with concentrated precision, building me up, only to stop when pleasure begins to take me. He repeats this torturous act repeatedly before the ache in my womb overwhelms me and I scream out, “You lied to me!”

He pauses and whispers into my ear, “What did I lie about, angel?”

I shut my mouth tight and shake my head, still angry that he has this effect on me. He presses my body back against the island, holding my neck and teasing my hard clit again. 

I can’t fight him anymore, and I utter only one word, but it says it all, “Marlena.”


“That’s my girl,” he purrs, petting the side of my face while my head lies on the cold surface, intensified by the sweltering warmth of my sweat glistened skin. “We will discuss this later. Now, I fuck you.”



copyright © 2014 Lena Black

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

SPANK


“I want to cum fucking you.” He picks me off the floor and tosses me back on the bed. “How do you want me?”


I ogle up at him in confusion.

“Do you want it rough or soft?” he clarifies.

“Damian or Hunt? I choose Hunt.”

He cocks his head to the side. It’s pretty fucking cute. 

“What do you mean Damian or Hunt?”

“Damian is my lover, but Hunt is my master.” His head still tilted, he shoots me a sweet grin.

“Hunt it is, Hyde.” He saunters over to his black duffle bag, extracting a blindfold and the black leather belt with his initials delicately engraved on the buckle. “Would you like me to spank you with this?”

The muscles in my lower abdomen clench superbly.

“Yes, Mr. Hunt.”

“That’s my girl.”




copyright © 2014 Lena Black

Love Bug

Can you relate, ladies? LOL
Apparently, ladybugs like it rough. ;p


Friday, September 2, 2016

Touched (NSFW)

“I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman as bad as I want to fuck you.”

I can taste his breath on my tongue, a mix of mint gum and cigarettes. Normally, the smell of smoke makes me sick, but on him, it’s delicious.

“Yes,” I hiss out, shutting my eyes as I take in his raw words.

“One more question, Lace.”

“Mm hm.”

His fingers move to the zipper of my jeans, ripping the flap down. “Was he good to you? Did he satisfy you?” He shoves his hand under my panties, his fingers greedily moving between my saturated lips, hitting the spot he’s searching for with exact precision. “Did he know how you like to be touched? Did he know how you like to be fucked, baby?”

He runs his finger over the hard knot, flicking it just right. I throw my head back and let out a gasp.

“No,” I breathe out.

“I know how to touch you, Lace. I know how you need to be fucked.” 



copyright © 2015 Lena Black

★*´¨) ¸.•´ Cover Reveal ★*´¨) ¸.•´



Journey Into Freedom 
by 
Ali Reynolds







Monday, August 29, 2016

I < 3 LANA

Lana Del Rey at Ohana Dana Point

Palm trees, the ocean, and Lana Del Rey under an open starry sky, the perfect Cali night. The concert was on a whole other level of awesome. Miss Del Rey was (as always) incredible with her fans, taking time during the show to meet with them and take pics. This woman is a Queen among paupers. Of course the rest of the audience waited patiently, because that's the kind of fans she has, giving her as much love and respect as she gives us. It was truly a night to remember.


PHOTOS BY LENA BLACK AND JOSHUA MINETTE




















Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Wear You...

“Breathtaking,” Hunt says from behind me. I glance at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes scan me up and down, soaking me in.

His chocolate hair is parted to the side and slick. His skin, a healthy golden tint from the tropical sun. Dressed in beige linen slacks and an off-white cotton button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbow, of course, he's the one taking my breath away. And he could have it, since I breathe for him anyway. He owns it, along with every other fiber of my being.

“You're looking very dashing yourself, slick.”

“I’d like take these clothes off and wear you instead,” he states, his eyes dark and admiring.

“We can always skip our night out.”

“No,” he smiles, “I enjoy waiting for you, the buildup, the watching, the touching, the hunt. It makes having you all the more satisfying.”

Only Hunt can make not having sex sound delectable.

“Then maybe I should deny you more often,” I retort wickedly.

He saunters over to me, pressing his front into my back, and wraps his arms about me. “You could try.”





copyright © 2016 Lena Black

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Ride My....

“Fuck me, angel,” he orders with a husky tone. “Ride my cock like you can’t live without it.”

“Yes, sir,” I moan out breathlessly. 

I swivel my hips, taking the lead, bumping and grinding on his hard cock. My pace is slow at first, taking time to enjoy every inch of his hard-as-steel shaft, rotating my hips when I slide up to the head, working it between my slick lips. Since I can’t use my legs, I shift my weight forward into his chest, using my arms for support.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he growls between clenched teeth, clasping his hands onto my hips and bucking into me, sending me flying up. He slams me back down onto him, reclaiming control, and pounds me savagely. I bounce wildly, riding him so our thighs slap together in a glorious symphony of our intense fucking. 

We grunt with every hard thrust of our hips, pushing each other toward pure, unadulterated rapture. Hunt places a hand over my womb and shoves his thumb between the soaked lips, teasing my clit ruthlessly. My head flies back, taking my body with it so my back bows aggressively. 

I writhe on him, letting my body takeover until it stiffens, every muscle seizing all at once. I scream out inaudible cries, releasing hard, and fall forward onto him from sheer exhaustion, gasping urgently for air.




copyright © 2014 Lena Black