M Taylor

M Taylor

Free-spirited-gypsy-footed wild woman. Here to share my erotic musings and flex my creative muscles. 

  • M Taylor
    Published about a year ago
    The Best Hangover Cure

    The Best Hangover Cure

    I walk in the front door and put a few groceries on the counter. I know you tied one on with the boys last night and want to surprise you with breakfast. I pour a glass of water and a grab a couple of Advil from the cabinet. I go to the bedroom where you are sprawled, barely undressed, your t-shirt up around your belly.
  • M Taylor
    Published about a year ago
    Bound and Teased

    Bound and Teased

    You finish tying the last knot at my ankle, having already splayed me across the four corners of the bed, blindfolded me, and taken your time doing your work. My anticipation in these few minutes has waxed and waned more than once as I patiently wait for you. Next, you place a pair of noise-canceling headphones over my ears. A playlist has already begun. It’s a deep, sexy jazz number full of longing notes from the trumpet and dark waves from the saxophone washing over me. Familiar with your practices in teasing and disciplining me, I know that just as I’m settling into its embrace it will change, turn my brain over, and send me spinning along a new path I can’t navigate without you leading me.
  • M Taylor
    Published 2 years ago
    The Edge of Ecstasy

    The Edge of Ecstasy

    What started as gentle caressing has evolved into deep, passionate kissing. Our breathing and primal groaning dance together as our bodies grind against one another so desperately you would think our denim would start a friction fire. Your hands explore my body and I’m surprised by the feeling of them finding their way under my shirt. Not like a 7th grader groping but with the tender touch of a man who has earned his experience. A man who has learned the value of a woman putting her trust in him.
  • M Taylor
    Published 2 years ago
    Tied With the Kitchen Towel

    Tied With the Kitchen Towel

    You walk into the kitchen and see me covered in flour, a strand of hair falling down around my ear. You’re surprised to feel your cheeks warm. You’re taken back to the moment our eyes first met. It feels like only yesterday that you were all at once blissfully enraptured by a woman you had never met, but instantly needed. I look up at you from across the counter and return your warm gaze.
  • M Taylor
    Published 2 years ago
    Count For Me

    Count For Me

    “Chest down, ass up.”
  • M Taylor
    Published 2 years ago
    Punishment in Chicago Alley

    Punishment in Chicago Alley

    I face the wall of the alley. My forearms flush with the brick, my back arched, hips high, and head down. The impact of your palm radiates through every nerve in my body and all I can think about is another blow. Each spank echoing down the Chicago alley and the laughter of people leaving the bar are the only sounds in the neighborhood at this hour. A group of people walk by the alley and stop. I look up. We both catch the eye of the group. A wry smile spreads across our faces and you reel back again. The shocked crowd moves on, giggling as they go.