Dirty Excerpt: Collared in the Temple of Dendur

The Temple of Dendur Exhibit: Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City

I wrote this story for a writer friend, Shea Mara (shea_blue on Literotica) who writes light BDSM- heavy on the D/s, light on the B/D and the S/M. Her BDSM stories often feature sex in a hotel lobby or a Starbucks bathroom. Shea's avatar on Literotica is a blue scarab.

When I was in high school, an Egyptian man who worked with my mother gave her a scarab carved from some kind of blue stone. He said it was for luck. We had no idea if it was luck or a curse, and the Internet was ten years away at that point. When I started writing the story, I thought about that blue scarab, which led me to setting the story of public sex in the Temple of Dendur exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. I'd been there with a group of foreign language teachers in 2002, and combined with what I could look at online, I think it worked.

Here's a dirty excerpt: 

The couple in the temple with us spoke a language I didn't recognize, and I felt as though they stood right behind us, waiting their turn to see what was etched on the wall where we stood. They must have assumed that they'd find some important treasure there if this professor was giving private lessons to his conscientious student, who was writing each word with loving care. I gave a quiet sigh of relief when I realized that they probably didn't understand what Ammon said. I saw them leave out of the corner of my eye.

He slipped his fingers between my lips, into my cunt. "Dripping wet, love. You want this, don't you?" I nodded silently, and he moved his fingers to my clit. I fought to stay still, to wait for his attention to the erect nub. My pussy burned with the need to come, but I wouldn't until he said it was time. That was our agreement. My hips wanted to move, but I stood as still as the replica of the Sphinx next to the temple, waiting for his instruction.

Instead, he moved his finger back to my opening, and pushed two fingers inside me, his fingertips brushing my G-spot. I craved movement, but I remained in place, screaming silently in my head, "Oh my god, just rub my fucking clit." After six months of his training, I knew. The anticipation made the orgasm hotter and sweeter. It would be worth the wait.

He pulled his fingers out of me and placed them against my mouth. "Taste yourself, love," he said, not bothering to whisper. We were alone in the temple for a moment. I parted my lips and sucked his fingers into my mouth. He spread his fingers so that one went to each side of my mouth, and I could taste the salty flavor of my own cunt spreading across my tongue. I licked them clean, sucking on them, trying to drive him to fuck me.

"Take your folio in your left hand. Leave it open. Take your right hand and put it between your legs," he said, still in a tone loud enough for other visitors to hear. "Good girl. Don't move your fingers yet." I was worried about my skirt being lifted in the front, but his large frame hid my body from the tourists that popped their heads around the corner to see what was in the temple. The museum would be closing in forty-five minutes. They didn't have time to linger in the ancient structure.

I was overcome with lust. I needed to come, and I couldn't stand still much longer. My nipples were so hard they ached, and my clit throbbed against my fingers, harder and harder, the swollen nub ready to explode. My arm was tiring from holding the folio up for so long. He finally took it from my hand and held it, making sure it hid the raised front of my skirt.

To continue reading, please purchase on Amazon. 
Photo Attribution:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/pahudson/3235654014/in/photolist-5VVzdb-5Pz12K-5VRdEc-5VRe5H-qMtW2D-2K6PLh-fb3Ses-4j5srq-bwRmFc-39SfmY-4j5s37-bwRo8z-5VVzxE-bwRnma-M4fJ1-deWMBN-deWPpY-aFngc9-aFng7N-9tCeb3-tRVs-os1CEN-tRVC-ocytVR-qcJGwi-qcBN4U-Ebhnva-5VRdyH-6vgfmt-qEcNuJ-bjvx7S-eDNUTc-aHFChr-bh3qe2-6SG5tL-nvaMmD-nJsQws-bjvxws-s2FcXq-DmCYqX-f86C4e-hrF6Q4-5xs3gS-9cEdvG-3KJe5A-5VRdVM-8yL9nC-6SG5dQ-s2N3Jv-ML5vB

(NSFW) Nerdy Nadine's Blog Part 2: Sultan Jafar F@#&s Princess Jasmine While the Parrot Coaches

In my last post, I shared a snippet from my newest book, Muffin Submits in the House of Flies.  

Here's another excerpt from the protagonist's blog. In this one, Nadine is with Evan, the president of the fraternity, and Professor Nate Thompson is guiding their actions via text. The professor sneaked into the frat party and is lurking in the hallway outside of Evan's room, on the top floor of the "House of Flies."

Nadine came, screaming in ecstasy as her pussy spasmed and heat spread through her pelvis before Nate arrived in the hallway outside Evan’s room. Nate knew which room it was. It had been his, his brother’s, his father’s, his uncle’s, and his grandfather’s too. The Phi Lambda Upsilon presidency was a long-standing tradition in his family. Nate slipped to the dark corner of the hallway and parked himself there for a moment. He needed to excuse Evan, but he didn’t want to leave the poor kid with blue balls.

Did you come yet, Muffin? he asked.

Yes, Sir. I just came so hard. Twice. Trying to catch breath. OMG.

Tell Evan to lie on his back. You kneel between his legs and suck him off. Tell him he has five minutes to come. If he doesn’t, he will leave unsatisfied. Nate gave her a moment to explain it to Evan. I’m setting a timer. Go.

Nadine didn’t waste time replying. She brought to mind the best blowjob scene she’d ever written—Jasmine and Sultan Jafar—and recreated it for Evan.

Jafar lay on the king’s bed, robes hiked up, the parrot narrating the action. Jasmine took the freakishly large cock to the back of her mouth, gagging before pulling off and teasing the head with her tongue. She looked into his eyes as Iago the parrot squawked, “Suck that cock, princess. You’re Jafar’s whore now.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, sucking in a fast rhythm, taking him deeper and deeper, her ample tits falling out of her sea-green harem top. Wrapping her hands around his balls, she manhandled them, making her sultan moan. She grinned and took it up a notch, running her teeth gently along his length.

“Oh, you cheeky little bitch,” Jafar snarled. “You know me so well. Yes, princess. Use your teeth.”

Evan groaned when Nadine’s teeth nipped at his shaft. “Oh, baby. That’s it. You are the best cocksucker. The fucking best.”

Jasmine opened wide and extended her tongue, prepared to take Jafar into her throat. His hips bucked to meet her mouth as her taste buds caressed his raging erection. He laced his fingers through her hair and pushed on her head, slamming her mouth down to his groin. “Take it, bitch,” squawked Iago from his perch on Jafar’s shoulder. “Take it like the fucking whore you are.”

Nate watched the timer, listening to the moaning and grunting and the smacking sound of the sloppy blowjob on the other side of the door. Nate heard Evan’s desperation to come from his position in the hallway, and just before the time ran out, there was silence.

Evan’s orgasm racked his body so hard, he went rigid, frozen with his hips locked against Nadine’s face. Nadine stayed with him, enduring the assault on her throat while she waited for the rush of cum. After what felt like an eternity to Nadine, Evan’s body relaxed, a loud, rhythmic grunt escaped his throat, and blast after blast of his cum coated her tongue.

The phone buzzed. Excellent job, Muffin. Tell Evan to take a picture of your face. She handed the phone to Evan. The next message was for him. Blindfold her. Use whatever you can find, but make sure she can’t see. Nate’s cock was uncomfortably hard, throbbing with insistence. Professor Thompson’s time had come.

To continue reading, please purchase the book on Amazon or on All Romance. Thanks for your support, and don't forget to leave reviews. They help indie authors.

 

 

(NSFW) What's in Nerdy Nadine's Blog?

 My most recent publication is called Muffin Submits in the House of Flies. 

A nerdy university student keeps a blog full of sexy fairy tales and other wicked writings. When she plagiarizes her own blog for a school assignment, her English professor discovers her secrets--naughty fiction and a need for a man to Dominate her.

The professor contacts her, deceives her, and Dominates her by text until he sends her for a makeover to bring her out of her chrysalis. He arranges an invitation for her to a party at the Phi Lambda Upsilon fraternity. Dubbed the House of Flies, the house is well known on campus for wild sexual activity, and Professor Thompson knows he'll be able to watch her metamorphosis take place, from a nerdy wallflower to a sex goddess. 

The story was inspired by the Deftones' song Change (In the House of Flies). There are no flies in the story. Just a frat house full of horny frat boys. 

The following selection is one of Nadine's sexy fairy tales. If you like it, you can purchase the book on Amazon or on All Romance. Enjoy the tease!

The footman was a beast—muscular with a long, angular face and huge hands. He ripped her dress over her head, tearing the fabric in several spots. For a moment, Cinderella feared the fairy godmother’s reaction to having her dress returned as tattered as the one she’d replaced, but the lust she felt for the footman swept away her apprehension. Standing in the garden in just her bodice and pantaloons, self-consciousness edged in until the footman placed his hands at her bosom and ripped the garment open, exposing her perfect breasts, her rose-colored nipples taut and ready.

He bit them, causing a stab of pain to shoot through her chest to her pussy. His teeth left deep marks in her skin, darker than the color of her areolae. The pain was sharp, invigorating, and it brought a rush of moisture to her pantaloons. “Please, Sir. Take them off,” she said to the footman. Why she called him “Sir” was not clear to her, but at that moment, he knew he was in charge. She was but a servant, a slave, even to this humble servant of the household. This time, the tearing sound excited her, and soon she found herself completely nude except for the one glass slipper remaining on her foot.

She was aware that she and the footman were not alone, and it mattered not. Lust clouded her judgment, and even though she knew she was surrounded by her friends—mice, the dog, even the evil cat—she stood proudly in her nakedness, hoping all her friends watched her. The footman grabbed her by the wrists and bound them tightly behind her back with the pumpkin vine he found next to the coach. “Please bend at the waist, Cinderella,” he commanded politely as he pushed her halfway into the coach, with her torso draped across the velvet seat. As she did, his boot separated her dainty feet, kicking her legs apart to allow his access.

“Please, Sir. Go gently,” she begged.

“Oh, Cinda,” the footman replied. “You know that isn’t what you want.” He lined his cock against her dripping slit and he forced himself inside. “You see? You like it rough.”

Her high-pitched, rhythmic squeaks affirmed his declaration, and he pumped into her harder and faster as she bucked back against him, meeting his sharp thrusts. “Fuck me,” she said breathlessly, wanting him harder and faster until the pain turned to pleasure. “Spank my bottom, Sir.”

“That is not your decision to make, princess,” he said with a smile, but he complied, and with each crack of her ass, she cried out, raising his arousal with her own. He fought to hold out, to keep from spewing his seed inside of her until she’d reached her own climax, but her yelps were such sweet music to his ears, he knew he couldn’t last.

“Come for me, Cinda,” he rasped into her ear. “Come for me, princess. Come on my cock.” With that, he thrust his middle finger into her tender, exposed asshole, surprising Cinderella coming right then. She emitted a series of sharp sounds, similar to those a Bichon Frisé makes when he sees a squirrel, as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her cunt. Each spasm brought her higher off the ground until she heard the chime of the clock tower, the one the fairy godmother had warned her about.

“Oh, my god,” she gasped. “The fairy godmother. She’ll see. She’ll know!” Cinderella knew that her intended for the evening was the prince, but he spent his evening eyeing up the king’s advisor, a giant of a man with a snarl to his lip. Cinderella couldn’t blame him; the advisor looked as though he could tear her in half. Just what she craved. She needed a man who wouldn’t be afraid to tie her to the bed and shove his cock in her—

“Ah-yuh,” said the footman. “It’s been a good ride, princess.”

The change came at the fourth chime. The footman’s huge cock slipped from her pussy and his finger disappeared, leaving her feeling empty and cold. The coach dissolved into thin air, and Cinderella’s torso dropped to the ground, leaving her breasts to plop on either side of a pumpkin stem. The cold flesh of the pumpkin aroused her nipples even more than the cool, night air, but her knees hitting the dirt jerked her to reality.

Behind her, something cold and wet brushed her left buttock, and when she turned to look, she was startled to see an enormous, lanky plough horse nosing—

And that's where Nadine gets interrupted. To read about Nadine and Professor Thompson (and to read Nadine's tale of Princess Jasmine sucking Jafar's cock while Iago the parrot coaches), please purchase the book on Amazon or on All Romance.

Thanks for reading!