Sunday, March 28, 2010


She smiles somewhat shyly, although her face unseen by him as she breathes softly into the receiver, the sound of his masculine yet mellifluous voice at odds with the deliciously debased filth whispered from his sweet lips.

Closing her eyes, picturing his beautiful face and hands, she listens to the liquid velvet accent outline the opportunities awaiting them, awaiting their flesh – the wet sounds from her throat as he fucks her mouth, the shine on his face as she smears and marks him with her dripping cunt, the binds she will use to dominate and possess, the bruises kissed with tender care after he has claimed her as his own.


Ivo Serentha and Friends said...

My compliment for your blog and pictures included,I encourage you to photoblog


Even week another photo album

Very original blog,greetings from Italy,


Cheeky Minx said...

Thank you Marlow, and welcome!

Anonymous said...

your writing always makes me tingly. i envy your talent.

The Panserbjørne said...

So nice to see there are other guys out there who regard the voice as an instrument to play symphonies upon. Much like he will no doubt play symphonies upon your body, should he ever get the chance.

Phone calls can be amazing even if it's not a "phone sex" session. The right voice can inspire in just that way even if there isn't any dirty talk going on. Which, of course, it sounds like there was, in this case. :)

-- PB

Cheeky Minx said...

Tepid: Thank you lovely lady! And I'm more than a little glad to hear the piece created such a delicious effect... ;)

PB: Oh, the voice, the voice.... So intensely erotic even when saying and whispering the seemingly innocent and banal, you are quite right! And even more so when the words spill forth in a torrent of fevered passion or measured, steely desire.

And I have to admit, I do go weak at the knees for particular accents. But then, you might have already guessed that... ;)