Author Archives: Daisy Danger

It’s hot, one of those sticky, sweaty days you dream about in the dead of winter.

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We’re flopped on the couch, watching movies, but even following the plot seems like too much effort.

“If it weren’t so damn hot, I’d wanna fuck,” Nick says, tilting the fan to blow across our faces.

“Me too, I answer, “But ugggggh.” I get up to refresh our drinks.

“Lots of ice this time,” he calls out.

I return, handing Nick his drink, the glass already dripping with condensation. A dribble falls on his belly and slides down, disappearing under the waist of his shorts. I’m suddenly mesmerized.

I fish one ice cube from my glass and hold it between my fingers. I place it on his neck and he shudders with pleasure. I drag the ice slowly along the top of his shoulder, it melts into a little cascade down his chest. I grab another.  Continue reading →

“I’m sorry, did you say you want me to pee on you?”

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I look at Shane incredulously. He nods enthusiastically, his eyes bright and eager. I always try to be a good sport about trying new things, but this one throws me. I say that I’ll think about it and get back to him.

Every time I shower for the next couple weeks I try to pee standing up. It’s not easy. As a girl it’s been so completely ingrained to sit that I can only force out a few pathetic drops. This isn’t going to satisfy anyone. The girls in the porn flicks seem to piss out gallons and I know that’s what Shane wants. I watch video after video of girls peeing on girls, girls peeing on guys and every other combination.

I keep trying. Shane asks me occasionally how it’s going. I notice the hope in his eyes when I have to pee right before sex, and the disappointment when I tell him I’m not ready yet.

One day, I drink two big glasses of water and hold it until I’m nearly ready to burst, then I get in the shower. I hold the shower head between my legs and close my eyes. As I relax, it pours out of me in a big warm stream.

I tell Shane I’m ready. Continue reading →

I follow a Facebook link, not expecting what follows.

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My heart stops, I’m plunged into memories.

There you are, dressed for the prom, your arm around her. I’ve not seen a single photo of you in more than twenty years. Every memento I had of you, every photo, every note we passed in class, was destroyed by a jealous boyfriend back when we were still young.

He was right to be suspicious.

You were my first boyfriend, you sat in front of me in seventh grade Mythology. I’ve made this into my own myth. Tall, taller even then me, brown eyes, brown hair, people asked if we were brother and sister. “He’s trouble,” is what everyone said when I’d mention your name.

Notes passed back and forth until the first snowfall, our first kiss. I mimicked what I saw in movies, wide hungry mouth, hands pressing the back of your head. I shoved my tongue down your throat until you pushed me away.

Practice made perfect. Continue reading →

Your ferocity unfolds, a dangerous blossom with petals made of knives.

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Blood lust boils to the surface, emerges as you pin my shoulders to the bed. All cruel things, all dark intents are given fresh life in your eyes. Channeled down from your brain to your hands to my body, your thoughts become my reality.

I want to ache from your whims. Wrap your fingers in my hair, compel me to be still. Hold the vibrator to my clit until I’ve spent every last drop of fluid, then force me to come again. Fingers, cock, dildos, fists, cram it all in, stretch me to the limit. Fill me with you.

Restrain me. Make my hands useless little clenching butterflies. Pin me to the bed like a specimen to be opened and examined. Tie the ropes tighter. Make me ache to wrap my legs around your waist, to pull you closer.

Leave me a drooling, mewling mess. Let my cries and screams and moans be muffled. Watch me choke on your cock, tears rolling down my face. Hold my head tight against your groin as your dick tickles the back of my throat.

Clamps on my nipples, my breasts, the tender inside skin of my wrists. Make the clothespins on my cunt clatter as you fuck me. Blindfold me, take away my sight. All your movements become meaningless blurs and shadows. Noises sharpen, even familiar sounds amplify, create equal fright and longing.

I want my suffering to please you as much as my coming. Shower me with little kisses. Wipe away the drool and the snot and the come and tell me I’m your good girl. Such a good girl.

“I miss you,” Damon whispers into the phone.

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I’m broken. He left me the day we got our marriage license. For the past three months, I’ve done nearly nothing other than sit in a rocking chair and stare at the phone, waiting. Waiting for this.

He went back to his ex-girlfriend, now they’ve split up. He wants sympathy from me, and I give it to him. Damon tells me all the ways Julie was such a fucking cunt, how he was wrong to leave me. How she left him for someone else, stupid bitch. I tell him I forgive him for everything. For the split lip, for leaving me, all of it. I love him, I tell him over and over, hoping to erase his pain.

“Come home,” he says finally. So I do. Continue reading →

Review of the Tor II from Lelo

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For today’s post, a representative from Lelo asked me to review their new product, the Tor II. Lelo provided the product for review. 

The box arrives, sleek, black and modern, as if it were designed by Apple. We open it to reveal a cock ring and a small charger.

The Tor II is small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. My partner looks skeptical. The finish is pleasing, luxuriously silky to the touch.

“I don’t think I’m going to fit in that,” he says, holding it up.

“It’s really stretchy,” I say hopefully. I plug it in to charge and press one of the buttons on the side.  It makes a low whrrrrrrrr sound.

“Oh.” I’m disappointed. I can barely feel it vibrate.Then I press the button on the side again. And again. I click it a few times, as high as it will go. It nearly vibrates off my hand.

“OH!” I say, shoving it down the front of my panties, “This is nice!” Continue reading →