Wednesday, December 30, 2009

My reputation precedes me

The last story I shared was one of longing, and pent up desire.  This one is sort of the opposite.

One week prior to the day I was acquainted with Suzanne, I met and fucked Frankie.  That story will be told in due time, but sometimes it's fun to start in the middle and work to either end.  But these were the facts as far as I knew them...

1. Frankie likes to fuck.

2. Frankie likes my dick.

3. Frankie likes talking about how much she likes to fuck dicks like mine to her friends.

4. Frankie is friends with Suzanne.

Prior to meeting Frankie, I didn't really know Suzanne.  She was friends of friends, and one of those people who was just always there.  We had probably made idle chit chat in the past, but nothing stuck.  She seemed to have sort of an air of superiority about her.  Like she didn't really need to be talking to me, she just was because I was there, and I can hold a conversation.

I've met people like Suzanne before.  They don't bother me.  But they are a constant reminder that while I may think that I'm a swell guy, the majority of people aren't really into me.  Obviously, I wish that every girl that I met was instantly infatuated with me and wanted nothing more than to tear the clothes from my body.  Sadly this is not the case, but Suzanne made me acutely aware of this.  Not so much by her action, but by her inaction.

So when she came up to me with a smile on her face and said, "Hi there," I was immediately taken aback.  I tried to hide this, but I'm sure I wasn't fooling anybody.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Good.  Frankie said I had to try you."

"Frankie said what?"

"She said you're a lot of fun and I have to try you out."

"Hah, okay, sure."

At the time, my mind was reeling from our brief conversation, but given time to think about it, several questions came to mind.  Who the hell are these people?  What have I gotten myself involved with?  Is there some kind of super-evolved society where people fuck without the all the pretense that is normally associated with these arrangements?  If so, how do I join, and if not, see question two.

This also made me realize that I had to immediately start thinking of Suzanne in a sexual manner.  There are people in the world that will always do it for you.  No matter how unattainable they may be, or how much disinterest they've expressed, certain people will be desired.

Suzanne is not one of these people for me.

It's not that she wasn't attractive.  The best adjective I could use to describe her would be womanly.  Soft skin, medium-long black hair, taller than average, and very decent breasts.  However I wondered, would someone who I had previously written off in my mind as "not interested" suddenly be able to interest me?

Unsurprisingly yes.  I am, if anything, predictable.  As well as young, stupid and horny.  So when Suzanne reached for my cock, it immediately started to stiff in her hand.  She ran her fingers up and down the length of it.  She held it in her hand and felt its weight, almost like she was measuring me up without even seeing it.

Meanwhile, I wasn't exactly sure how to react.  She didn't ask if I wanted her, she told me we should fuck.  Plain and simple.  And while part of my brain is thinking this is the hottest thing ever, to be a boy toy passed between women, another part of me didn't know what I should be doing.  She was clearly busy playing with my cock, but kissing her didn't seem appropriate.  But I knew I liked her skin.  Soft, pale, and cool to the touch.  I nuzzled into her shoulder, and ran my hands up under her sweater.  If she was going to feel what I had in store, I wanted to do the same.

My cock was rapidly stiffening as she traced circles around it.  Her blouse came off, and bra next.  Like the rest of her skin, Suzanne's breasts were remarkably soft.  Her nipples pointed out at me as if they were hard, but like the rest of her skin, they weren't.  I played with them in my hand, and rubbed them between my fingers.

My pants hit the floor, and Suzanne starts stroking my cock.  She put her hand at the base, and rotated her wrist ninety degrees clockwise as her hand travelled the length of my shaft.  Then on the way back down, she went counterclockwise.  Clearly Suzanne knew exactly what she was doing.  Her hands were skilled and smooth.  There were no wasted movements, or accidental brushes of fingernails.  She was a slut.  And I was really into it.

So much so that pre cum started to leak out of my cock as she stroked it.  Her eyes were fixated downward, watching her hand work me over.  I quickly undid her pants, and dropped her panties.  She didn't even glance up at me, just simple walked out of her jeans as she continued to stare at my cock.  Suzanne went with the unshaven look, which was fine with me.  She was also sopping wet, which was a nice treat too.  Judging from what she was doing to me as well as the state of her pussy, I put four fingers up inside her.  She cooed.  I almost melted.  Suddenly, I couldn't wait to fuck her.

I took my hand that wasn't deep inside her and pushed her back on to a chair.  She gripped my cock.  Hard.  I curled my fingers inside her cunt.  She cooed again.  I pushed her back against the chair, and fumbled through my wallet for a condom.  It always takes too long to find one, even if it's only a few seconds.  I slip it on, and slip into Suzanne.  All the way, on the first stroke.  No warning necessary, this slut clearly likes to be filled.  I bang against her cervix, and Suzanne lets out a deep "Ohhhhh."

She leaned back and wrapped her arms around me.  "Ohhhhh.  Ohhhhhh!  Ohhhhhh!"  Still she looked down at my cock as I thrust in and out of her.  Sounds of sloppy, wet fucking, the slapping of skin join her chorus of "Ohhhs".  Suzanne lets out a long "Ohhhh," and cums.  I know this because I can hear it gush onto the floor, which brings me that much closer to my own impending orgasm.

We continue to fuck.  Her grip around my back tightens, and I can feel her pussy spasm on my cock.  She cums again.  Loud "Ohhhhs".  I know that I don't have much longer left, so I unleash everything I have into the next few seconds.  My back arches.  My hips start to buck wildly.  The chair she's half sitting in bangs against the wall and rattles the window.

Suzanne holds me tighter and closes her eyes.

I explode.  My orgasm is righteous and fulfilling.  She looks sated, and holds me for a minute longer.

"Thank you."

And with that, she pulls up her pants, finds the rest of her discarded clothing and politely leaves.  I'm still sort of in disbelief, but am far from complaining.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

e[lust] #4

DSC_0074

HNT Courtesy of Molls (via Eat The Cake NYC)

Welcome to e[lust]
- your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you're looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you're going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #5? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site's sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

♦ This Week's Top Three Posts ♦

Interrogation - I looked up at him, feigning cluelessness. “I know you can understand me. So I ask you again. Where are the lenses?” Another strike. I crumpled into the bench.

Reconciling the Identities of Feminist & Butch Top - There’s something supposedly anti-feminist about wanting to dominate. There’s something in the feminist rhetoric which says we are all equal especially in bed, so that means I-do-you-you-do-me....

Fire and Ice
- The rain comes down harder around us, the freez­ing drop pelt­ing what­ever skin lies exposed over the sur­face of the water.

e[lust] Editress


By the Twinkling Lights...
- His lips found my nipples and I forgot about the cold. If a car were to drive by and the passengers were to look past the twinkling lights on the tree, they would have seen a naked woman’s rear end pressed against the glass wall..

♦ Featured Post (Lilly's Pick)


Ronjazz: Late Night Rendezvous - Meet me in the parking lot at the post with the broken lamp. 10PM sharp! Do not be late! Stand facing the post, eyes closed. Wear a flimsy dress and heels - nothing else!

See also
: Pleasurists #58 and #59 for all your sex toy review needs

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Erotic Writing


Adoration
Diary Of A Pissed Off Wife
Happy Halloween
Heartbreak hotel
Heat
Lips...Tongue...Taste
Marathon Sex
Not Always, But Often: Part 1
Our (Sorta) Intro to BDSM
Rising above the Background
Sex at 2am
The Babysitter
The Chair
The Beginning?
The Pleasure Chest
The Slut Chronicles #10 ~ The Interview
The Walk
Today's Specials: Orgasms, Wet Panties, and Margaritas
Twinkling Heat
We are glass
What I Want

Kink & Fetish

Amber's New Dungeon
Awesome Body Mod Night
Co-Hypno-Topping
Day of Debauchery
Go Ask Teresa: Mothers
Helpless
Jack was a Picky Eater
Kissing Noises
My very first experience of BDSM
Mouth
Play Piercing? Seriously? Why?!?
Sounds and Catheters
The Taking of M

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Aftercare, Part I: The Basics
Ask The Negress: Privacy & Perversion.
Boundaries...
Do Slaves Deserve Love?
Gyne-Vestiphobia: Fear of Women’s Clothing
Let There Be Love
On My Experience With Sex Toys
Riding The Crimson Wave - Having Sex On Your Period
The Gangbang as Social Commentary
Titty Fucking
TPE (Total Power Exchange): A Novice's Perspective
Weekend Fun

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

December 17th
God rest ye, merry cuckold!
You've Got To Be Nuts

Monday, December 28, 2009

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Picture

I'll be gone until next week.  Until then, here's a cute girl.



Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Monday, December 21, 2009

Friday, December 18, 2009

Not always, but often Part 3

This story started here, was continued here, and will now be finished.

When we left our intrepid hero, he had just dispatched his friends that couldn't take the hint that he wanted some alone time.  Finally they either got the message or just decided to do their own thing.  Either way I was glad.

Amanda and I raced home.  I didn't really have a plan in mind, everything was sort of being figured out along the way.  Yes, I clearly liked her.  Yes, I was happy to be alone with her.  Yes, I wanted to fuck her, but I wanted other things as well.  So when we walked in and situated ourselves, I took a more passive role than usual.

"Let's see what's on TV," she suggests.

"Okay."

So I grab the remote and we both cuddle up on the couch.  I don't remember what was on.  I wasn't really paying attention.  My senses were over loaded with beautiful girl.  We were both half-reclined on either side of the couch, with our legs tangled in the middle.  Her right foot was closest to me, and I lazily stroked her ankle with my thumb as we pretended to care about what was on.

Often in these situations I get too anxious.  It had been months since we met.  We've talked a lot.  I've kissed her once.  The floodgates seemed like they were open, but just a crack.  Every instinct inside of me said "pounce on her," but I refrained.  Biding my time seemed like the plan.  If it hasn't become obvious by now my libido can be ravenously hungry, and it was just about at its peak.  My theory was that taking it slowly would pay off.  I hoped.

As I attempted to stay cool, my mind started to scheme, like it tends to do.  I don't know whether I started thinking more clearly, or if the pent up desire was causing me to try to outsmart myself.  But I started thinking that Amanda was probably on the shy side.  In our conversations she revealed to me that it had been a long time since anything had happened with her.  And I knew from past experience that having an extended dry spell can make one question even the most basic things about themselves.  Am I attractive?  Am I doing something wrong?  Does he like me? And so on...  Thus, in order to stop the chain of events that may be going on in her head, I decided to take action.

I pulled my legs back, shifted my body forward, and kissed her.  While the first one contained many fireworks and explosions and thoughts of "finally!", this kiss was a lot longer and slower.  I got to really get a sense of how she kissed, and as difficult as this is to admit to myself, she wasn't very good.  In a similar vein to how everybody thinks they are great at giving blowjobs, everybody probably thinks they are a good kisser as well.  It might have been a product of her being nervous, or out of practice, or something, but it just didn't feel that good.  She managed not to be accepting of my mouth, nor particularly exploratory.  Her mouth was small, but she didn't play to her advantages.  It seemed like there was some sort of disconnect.  Like she didn't exactly know what she was doing, or wasn't comfortable with me.  At the time it didn't bother me; I was so excited to kiss her, that she could have had three rows of teeth and I'd have loved it.  So I continued on.

The old cliché about sex being like pizza is sort of true.  It also applies to kissing as well.  It's hard to really complain when you're kissing a cute girl who you've been crushing on, and I certainly wasn't.  My fingers got to run themselves through her hair.  My teeth got to bite her lower lip.  My mouth got to suck on her ear lobe.  My back got to feel her hands run up and down it.  My brain also had the feeling of "Success at last!" which greatly overpowered any technical critique of her kissing.  In fact, my brain was so wrapped up in this that I suggested we go up to my room.  She accepted.

I helped her up off the couch and took her by the hand.  We both get on my bed and lock ourselves in another long kiss.  Only this time it was less restrained.  My body was on top of hers, and we started to kiss more vigorously.  My tongue started probing deeply into her mouth.  I sucked her neck, and her ears.  I put both hands in her hair and pulled her in to kiss her.  Hard.  Her body felt warm pressed up against mine.  Mine did too.  I took my shirt off and discarded it.  She kissed my collarbone, and I moaned in approval.  I moved my body back down to kiss her again, and we rolled around on the bed until she was laying on top of me.

My hands rubbed her back beneath her shirt as she kissed me.  They moved up until they got to her bra strap, and then back down again.  My hands went up her side until they reached her bra, and back down again.  Up and down several more times while we kissed.  There ends up being a slight break in our kiss, and I use the opportunity to take her shirt off.  She has on a fairly plain looking white bra.  I move my hands around back, undo the clasps, and take it off.

Oh.  My.  God.

It's not like I wasn't aware of Amanda's body, I had been pressed up against it, I had danced with it, and I had thoroughly fantasized about it.  But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for this.  Her breasts were absolutely, incredibly, unbelievably gorgeous.  Exquisite.  Divine.  At this point in my life I had been with a lot of women, and her breasts were easily some of the best.  Top two.  Think Sammy Braddy, but a bit fuller and more perky.

I love breasts.  A lot.  While I don't always post pictures that feature breasts, even in the ones I don't, I think about what they're like.  And I know the tricks to making breasts look nice too, which is why I often inwardly chuckle when I see pictures of girls using tricks to make themselves look more desirable than they are.  Pushing them together, pushing them up, wearing an enhancing bra, breast lifts, breast enlargement, sticking them out, underwater, jumping, putting ones arms straight down so that the breasts will protrude more...  There are a lot.

Amanda didn't use any of those tricks.

Her clothing was unflattering.  Even the dress she wore when we met didn't do her breasts justice.  Her bra was very plain.  But underneath it all was wonder and amazement.  I felt like I stumbled on some well-kept secret.  The discovery of Amanda's breasts made everything worth it.  And I fully intended on enjoying them.

There was lots of licking.  Even more sucking.  Feeling, caressing, pinching, teasing.  I played with her breasts when she was on top of me so I could feel them hanging down.  We flipped over so she was on her back, and I played with them there.  I don't deny the fact that I can become obsessed with breasts in general, but rarely do I become so singularly-focused on a specific pair.  Obviously yeah, when you're with a girl you want to be focused on her, but even as I write this, I can't help but drift off thinking about her breasts.

Yeah, so I spent a good amount of time with them.  And just incase I need to state it, my cock was hard as titanium.  The skin was stretched so tightly, you could run your fingernails up and down it without scratching.  I needed to fuck her.  Partially because it would be awesome, but also because I'd get the chance to play with her breasts more when they were bouncing around while we fucked.

So I took her pants off.

Amanda was unshaven and very wet.  I didn't go down on her for a particularly long time, we had plenty of foreplay already.  She was also really tight, which I knew would be nice.  And interestingly, despite the fact that she really seemed to be enjoying... well everything, her legs weren't open very wide.  When I was licking up and down her labia, her thighs pressed somewhat gently against both sides of my head.  It made me feel like I was being engulfed by her pussy, which I thought was pretty hot, but I wasn't sure if that was what she intended.

Either way, I continued to lick her up and down, occasionally focusing on her clit.  I wanted to tease her and get her so hot that she'd open up and demand that I fuck her, even though I didn't think that'd actually happen.

Eventually, I eased up, and kissed her breasts again.

"I really want you."

"Do you have a condom?"

"Of course."

I grab a Mangum XL, roll it on, and get back on top of her.  More kissing.  More hands on breasts.  I position my cock at the entrance of her pussy, and try to slide in, but am finding it difficult.  I keep kissing her though, figuring this is some kind of game.  It's not that she was playing hard to get, but showing me that despite the fact that she was on her back she was boss was a sly move.  So I continue to kiss her while our lower bodies struggle.

This goes on for a few minutes, and we continue to kiss, but I notice that Amanda is a bit distracted.  If it were a game, she'd be looking me in the eyes, almost daring me to fuck her.  But she wasn't.  She was looking down.  And all of a sudden everything made sense.

"Amanda?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Are you a virgin?"

"...Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I thought you wouldn't be interested in me."

It's pretty sad to say that there is a large percentage of the population that she'd be correct about.  But luckily, I wasn't one of them.  So I hugged her.

"No, of course I'm interested in you."

I could feel her release.  She had been holding this for a long time.  Since we met.  Months upon months.  It sort of boggled my mind too.  Here was this extremely smart girl with some of the nicest breasts I've ever seen, and she was a virgin.  It was difficult to believe in some ways.

"Can I ask why not?"

"I just never met anybody right."

I hug her again.  I can't being to understand what this was like for her, but I'm sure it wasn't easy.  So while I desperately wanted her, this was more important.  We talked for a few more minutes about her virginity.  I tried to be understanding and considerate.

"So do you want to try?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let me show you.  Spread your legs wider.  Wider."

"I'm not very flexible."

"Well, as wide as you can without it being too uncomfortable."

I had experience with virgins before (we'll get to those stories...) so I had a vague idea of what to do.

"Now try to relax your muscles.  Don't fight me.  Accept my body into yours."

It was difficult.  She was scared, but excited.  Her muscles were really tense.  And I know that I'm physically not the first person that anybody should have sex with.  Hell, there are plenty of people who qualify as raging sluts that struggle with my cock...

But I was patient.  And slow.  So slow.  Her body eased slightly, and I let her get used to what it feels like.  We never had a conversation about masturbation, so I wasn't sure if she had anything inside her before.

This process continued on for awhile.  I'd slowly make progress, and Amanda would re-tense her muscles.  But gradually, she eased up to the point where I could go about half way inside her, exit, and then re-enter again.  It was progress.

So I sloooooowly started to fuck her.  Still only half way, but enough to where she could start to feel something other than discomfort.  And to both of our pleasures, she started to enjoy it.  Her muscles eased a bit, and her breathing got heavier.  I didn't think she would be able to relax enough to have an orgasm, but I figured I could help her to enjoy it.  And enjoy it myself, which I was guessing she'd like too.

The slow pace that we had been on was also managing to build up what felt like a gigantic orgasm inside me.  By the time that she had started to enjoy herself, we had been fucking for about twenty minutes.  To her credit, she was still quite wet, which I liked.  And so incredibly tight.  When I was going slower this wasn't much of an issue, but now that I had started to build a rhythm, it was getting more and more difficult to not speed up.  I didn't want to hurt her, but good lord did I want to cum.

"You feel so good."

"..."

"Can I cum for you?"

"yes"

I could barely hear her, and again, probably can't imagine everything that was going through her head.  But I knew that if I lasted a lot longer it would probably increase her discomfort even more, so I needed to cum.  So I increased my speed just a little and started talking to her.  I said how good she felt, and that I loved being inside her.  I told her how hot I thought she was and that it was amazing to feel our bodies against each other.  I asked if she was ready.  She nodded.  And I came.  It took just about all my self-restraint to keep from slamming my cock all the way inside her, but I managed, and promptly collapsed.

Slowly, I exited her body, and held her in my arms.  She held me back, and started to cry.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For this."

I didn't want to press it.  There would be time to discuss later.  Right now she needed to feel me, not hear me.  She needed to know that I was there for her, and I wasn't going anywhere.  I held her tight, and slowly rocked back and forth.

It was going to be okay.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Not always, but often Part 2

In case it wasn't obvious, this story is the continuation of this one.


Amanda walked away and I watched her the entire time.  Email addresses, IM handles and phone numbers were exchanged.  And like that, she was gone.


The rest of the evening saw me dance a little bit more, and then retreat back to my room for the night.  Sunday was fairly uneventful.  It contained breakfast and a long ride home.  People spoke about getting together again in the abstract.  I knew that I wanted to, if only to see Amanda again.  Plus, being healthy and seeing friends would be a nice change.


After spending a long weekend with friends, the day after it all ends and you're back to your daily grind has a tendency to be soul crushing.  While in some ways it'd be nice to live the kind of life that saw me constantly partying, I don't think it'd work out well in the end.  Too often I'd likely retreat from the constant barrage of people everywhere, and hide in a little shell.


Thus it was back to my boring job in my boring office building.  But it did have a silver lining...  I knew that I'd get to talk with Amanda at some point.  Luckily, I wasn't particularly busy at work, and people were still sympathetic due to my now mostly-gone illness.  The company that I worked for at the time saw instant messaging as a useful business tool, an I had it on whenever I was in the office.  However, I didn't see Amanda on all day, so I could only assume that her place of business did not share the same viewpoint.


5:00 rolled around, and she still wasn't anywhere to be seen.  Normally I'd get the hell out of Dodge, but if I missed Amanda's showing up, I'd certainly kick myself, so I waited.  And waited.  And waiting.  Finally she signs on after what felt like an eternity, but was only a little more than an hour.  Time spent waiting feels like it drags on and on.  But the second she greeted with "Hi," made everything worth it.


I re-read all my past IM conversations with Amanda prior to writing this story.  It was interesting to me to view our relationship now that it's in the past.  I can see why I liked her.  I can see why things didn't work out.  I can see how our lives were in some ways very different.


While she didn't have a problem instigating conversation with me, she had a stoicism about her that could be slightly difficult to get a grip on.  It's one of the many reasons why talking to somebody online is vastly different than talking to them in person or on the phone.  It seemed like she liked me, and I made it clear that I liked her as well.


Our conversations rarely touched on sex.  Sure it came up from time to time, as well as us lamenting about her needing to get home at such an early hour that faithful night we met, but it was never at the forefront of the conversation.  But we did talk about the next time we'd see each other.


Summer was coming, which meant it was just about to be BBQ time.  And BBQs are a great excuse to get people together for eating, drinking and general tomfoolery.  Email flew around discussing possible dates and who's available when.  I attempted to keep my schedule as open as possible, and I'm sure Amanda did as well.


Time passed.  We talked when we had the chance.  A lot of it was recapping the various things that were going on in our lives.  I liked hearing about the things she did, even if it was generic "Yeah, I hung out with my friends on Saturday" kind of stuff.  We never got overly specific, due to not knowing the other people in our lives.  I also failed to mention all the sex I was having.  It could be seen as dishonest that I didn't mention it.  But it also could be seen as respectful.  And it's not like she told me everything she was doing, I'm sure I was getting some version of the "Hey, I like this guy, let's not go full throttle" treatment.


And just when I was starting to get frustrated about not seeing Amanda, a date was finally decided upon.  Not only that, but my place was chosen to be the location of the BBQ.  Interesting...


I didn't have any problem with hosting, other than the possible messes that could erupt.  It had the potential of being incredible or awful.  Possibly at the same time.  The decision did change the dynamic of my discussions with Amanda, which was to be expected.  Now we had something to look forward to, now we had a plan.


To the most beautiful moment in life,  Better than a deed, better than a memory, the moment... of anticipation! - The Simpsons


The countdown had begun.  A month turned into weeks.  Weeks to days.  Literally hundreds of emails were exchanged.  Who's bringing buns?  Do we really need three different kinds of vodka?  Is a flip cup table even necessary?  Important questions were answered.  Amanda asked if she could have a little corner of the floor in my room to sleep on.  I told her that I didn't think it'd be a problem.


But finally, the day came when people would be arriving.  The waiting was over.  I'd get to see Amanda.  I'd get to see my friends.  I'd get to eat charred burgers with ketchup.  I'd get beer.  I also wanted everything to go smoothly.  People would be coming over, Amanda would be there, other friends would be there, girls I've hooked up with in the past would be there.  The possibility of something blowing up in my face was something I couldn't ignore, but dwelling on it seemed counter-productive.


I was a bit anxious.


In order to calm my nerves, I drank a lot.


This decision had mixed results.  My anxiety level did end up falling.  But so did the level of my inhibitions.  I was flirty with Amanda.  I was flirty with random guys.  I was flirty with random girls.  If it moved, I probably hit on it.  The details remain blurry to this day.  My hope was that people chalked it up to Dave being drunk and having fun.  I'm sure there were people who chalked it up to me being an asshole.  I'm sure there were people who were happy to see me having a good time.


At some point I passed out in my living room, and woke up at about 5 AM.  The lights were on, the music was on, the TV was on.  People were passed out in awkward looking positions.  It looked like a good party had been strewn across the floor.  I turned the lights and music off and went to bed.


Inside my room there were two girls sleeping on the floor, and one in my bed.  Clearly I should throw parties more often.  Julia (more on her another day) was in my bed and soundly sleeping.  The two girls on the floor I didn't recognize, but I assumed that Amanda was among them.  It was too late to really care about it though, and I was down for the count.


Morning came all too soon.  Check that, afternoon came all too soon.  My bed and room were empty.  I put my robe on and staggered downstairs.  Sunlight was flooding in from the windows.  Everything hurt.  The PlayStation was on.  Julia was playing.  Amanda was hanging out, as were a few other guys.  This presented a difficult situation.  While I was glad that I was able to have a successful party, it was over now and time to go home.  However I didn't want to sound like I was kicking them out, that wouldn't be very accommodating of me.  So instead I poured myself a gigantic glass of juice and sat next to Amanda.


"Rough night?"


"I sort of remember enjoying it.  Did anything bad happen?"


Amanda glanced over at Julia who was busy shooting something evil.


"Did I?" I mouthed towards Amanda.


She shook her head.


Phew.  If I had spent all that time looking forward to Amanda and then got drunk and fucked Julia, it would have been a colossal waste.  For once I was glad that I somehow managed to keep my cock in my pants.


This isn't going to come as a shock, but being hungover sucks.  Being hungover while trying to get rid of house pests also isn't my preferred way to spend a Saturday, but I didn't really have a choice, so I made the best of it.  Showered, shaved, ate some chips that were sitting around.  Drank massive quantities of liquids, ate a bunch of Tylenol.


Come evening, the crowd had thinned.  Besides Amanda and I, only Julia and Thomas remained.  I came to the executive decision that chips weren't going to cut it either, and dinner was necessary.  Being that everybody was in my town, I was deferred to for a restaurant suggestion.  I mentioned knowing a good Thai place, and off we went.


Most of my time was spent paying attention to Amanda.  Despite having talked online for months, it was still enjoyable getting to know her.  I liked how she smiled when she looked at me.  She had very nice eyes, and wasn't afraid to order something other than Pad Thai for dinner.


After dinner we all kind of aimlessly wandered around.  I knew that I wanted to go back to my place with Amanda, but I was also pretty sure that Julia was jealous of us.  Thomas just seemed kind of happy to be hanging out.  He and Julia were good friends, and I figured they would stick together.  Ideas of what to do were discussed.  Movie, bar, club, and finding other friends to hang out with were all mentioned.  Then the idea of everybody checking their email was discussed, which was approved as a good idea.  Next door to the Thai place was a Best Buy, which seemed to be appropriate.


Upon entering, Julia and Thomas wandered off in one direction and Amanda and I in the other.  We find two computers next to each other and both quickly pull up our email.  I had one message that basically amounted to "Are you okay?"  Amanda spent a bit more time on hers, while I hung around.  She closed her browser window and looked at me.  I stepped closer and kissed her.  Slowly.  The computer section at Best Buy isn't pretty far down on the list of the most romantic places to have a first kiss, but the fact that it was the first time we were alone was pretty hot.


"So what do you want to do tonight?"


"I don't care, but I'm here, and I just want it to be with you."


We find Thomas and Julia again after their email was checked.


"So what's going on tonight?"


"Eh, nothing really."


More twiddling of thumbs.  Then a light bulb pops up in my head.  I turn to Amanda.


"Hey, want to go dancing?"


"Yes!"


Not only did I know that this would be fun, but I also knew that Julia and Thomas didn't like to dance at all.  They also heard what was probably the strongest statement in any direction from Amanda all day, which probably played a part in their promptly leaving.  We hug goodbye, and say that we should all do it again soon.  They begin to walk towards the exit, and we try to find a website that would tell us where would be good to dance tonight.  About a minute passes, and I turn to Amanda again.


"Hey, do you want to not go dancing tonight?"


She turns to look and me and smiles.


"I thought you'd never ask."


And like that we were out of there, and on the way back to my place.


To be concluded tomorrow...

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Not always, but often Part 1

This blog is called Glimpses Of Dave. I provide glimpses of my life. Snippets of conversations. Some experiences of mine are easier to relate than others. If I meet a girl, take her home, fuck her, and never see her again, that's an easy story to tell. But if I only wrote those stories, this would probably become a pretty mundane blog. And I don't want to do that, so without further ado, let's meet Amanda.

Dancing is a cliché that's often used in movies to show two people falling in love. I'm fully aware that there is a culture of people that go out to clubs for the express purpose of dancing. In fact, I've done it before, but it's not a habit of mine. This story does not start at a dance club.

Instead it begins at a hotel. Funny, that's often where they finish, but this one starts there. I wish it were an extravagant hotel. Or maybe a super-modern one. But this hotel was none of these things. It was in a suburb, on a road with a lot of big name hotel chains. The parking lot needed paving. The location wasn't particularly convenient. The hotel was chosen due to its cheap price.

Your circle of friends may have different ways of gathering, but I'm in one that enjoys getting together for a long weekend at a hotel every now and then. It's an excuse to drink, act recklessly, reminisce, fuck, and drink some more. I don't often go to these weekend excursions, as I find them to be a little tired, they're enjoyable every once in awhile.

However, the catch to this one was that I was sick. Sicker than I had been in awhile. Sick enough that I seriously considered not attending at all. Uncomfortably sick. But seeing as I had already booked the hotel room, and convinced myself that I really wanted to go, off I went. Against better judgment. And I'm glad I did, because I met Amanda.

Friday night at the hotel was forgettable. I think I took a lot of Tylenol, went to a crappy Mexican chain restaurant that had an inexplicable wait, and experimented with how the drugs I was on would react to tequila. Unsurprisingly, they caused me to pass out on the ten minute trip back to the hotel. Time to call it a night despite people's urging me to stay up.

Sleep helped though, and despite looking like warmed over hell, I felt okay on Saturday. Good enough where I could join everybody at a different crappy Mexican restaurant. Amanda was at that lunch, and we talked briefly. She was a student that lived in the city that was adjacent to the suburb we were in. We only spoke briefly as I didn't know her and there were a lot of other people around, but I noticed a few things about her. First of all, she was smart as a whip. I consider myself to be fairly smart (though incredibly stupid at times, I am a male of course) but I don't think I could hold a candle to Amanda. This struck me as very sexy. Second of all, she was rather shy. It also didn't help that she was a friend of a friend, and didn't really know anybody. It's tough to fit in with a boisterous crowd if you don't know anybody.

Lunch ends unspectacularly. I managed not to get sick, which was a plus. And back to the hotel everybody went. One of the interesting aspects of these hotel getaway weekends is that they're very event-based. Sure there's always plenty of hanging out and drinking in hotel rooms, but everybody knows that at 1 PM they have to be at such and such place. And at 7 PM, this other thing starts, so you'd better be ready. But the time between is when you learn what somebody is really like. There are those who wanted to run in the hotel gym. Others played video games. And others still continued on their three-day bender.

Me, I took a nap.

I figured I needed my energy for that evening. The big event was a dance, which struck me as strange, as most of the people in attendance don't like dancing... However I'm a pretty decent dancer, and I've found that being one of the few guys in a large group who can dance well usually helps in the getting laid department. So when the music started, I began looking for dance partners.

Being a bit of a dance veteran, I knew it to be similar to going to a bar. Don't make your move too early. Bide your time until things heat up a bit. I take my own advice and dance with a random skinny girl with long brown hair that I'm slightly friendly with. She's... not the best dancer, and quickly scurries off after the song ends.

Time passes. I dance a little bit here and there, but mostly talk with friends. It almost feels like a junior high spring formal, where people are all doing their own thing, and the vibe is slightly awkward. One of the main differences though is that most junior high kids don't smuggle booze into the school gymnasium, and this hotel had a bar. Using my experience from last night, I get what would normally be a fairly weak cocktail by my standards, and drink it slowly. This proves to be the right strategy, and in very little time, I get a slight buzz on, make a mental note that I should take medication more often, and amble over to a few of my friends hanging out at the end of the bar.

Then Amanda enters the room.

She still looks shy and a little bit awkward, but there's one difference between now and this afternoon. Before she was wearing a baggy t-shirt and jeans. Now she was wearing a floor-length black scoop neck dress. She looked amazing. Long flowing brown hair, an incredible rack, and a smile that could pacify a charging bear. The needle on the record in my mind skipped and went haywire. My wait was over. I knew I had to pounce or somebody else would, and that couldn't happen.

"Hey again."

"Hi."

"Your dress looks great."

"Thanks."

"Can I have the next dance?"

"Yes."

Her one word answers led me to believe that she was still awfully shy, but at least this time there was something to do other than eat stale nachos. The song that was playing ended, and the next MP3 is up, and I immediately recognize it. Luck Be A Lady by Frank Sinatra. I immediately realize that there's no screwing around here. This is a trial by fire. No warm up, no training wheels, it's do or die. I take Amanda's hand, and we're off.

I'm pleased with the song selection as it starts slowly, which is good for getting a feel for each other. And it's clear that she's experienced as well. She stays with the beat, knows how to follow, and is light on her feet. I start with the basics, but it's clear that we're both of the level that we can do more. So we do.

I read once that the man's job while dancing is to make his partner look good. In this case I knew I wouldn't need any help, she was doing a fine job on her own, but I was banking on Amanda wanting to feel good as well. In the entire ballroom, she knew maybe a half-dozen people. From what I can tell nobody really talked to her much at lunch, so this was her first impression. And while I didn't ask anybody, they had to have been impressed.

She twirled, she dipped, she glided effortlessly in and out of my arms. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers never had it so good. While previously I thought the large dance floor looked a bit silly while mostly empty, it did the trick perfectly. While song ended a lot sooner than I would have liked, we didn't care. When the next one began we kept it up. I had barely spoke a dozen sentences to this girl, but our bodies were becoming very well acquainted, and not in the way my body usually learns somebody. This time I learned tempo, pacing and not to linger.

People would later tell us that we danced beautifully. I didn't really care how I looked, but I felt great. And I could tell from her smiling that Amanda did as well.

We danced for about an hour until Amanda told me that she needed to get a ride so she could catch the last train back to the city. Part of me was thinking, "You have a hotel room about five hundred feet away." but the other part was thinking, "Let her go." And for whatever reason I let her go. While there were definite sexual undertones to our dancing, the vibe wasn't right. I did want her. Badly. But this was not the night. I just hoped that the right night would happen. Somehow.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

e[lust] #3

13messages
HNT Courtesy of 13Messages
Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you're looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you're going to find it here. Want to be included in the next edition? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site's sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

♦ This Week's Top Three Posts ♦

Presence - I wish that you would look at me now. I am willing you to look at me now, over her body, rocking with the motion of her mouth. But you do not.

Restraint - “Do you like what you see?” the blonde asks. “Are you excited by what’s before you?” the redhead enquires. He nods.

What Not to Fetishwear - DON'T wear a PVC sleeveless vest if you fall into the rotund category. You will look like a bowling ball. With chubby arms.

e[lust] Editress

Fucking for Art - The proximity of their nakedness and my scrutiny resulted in this beautiful agony of arousal for them both. I asked if they would feel comfortable doing some poses of vaginal penetration for me, and they readily agreed.

♦ Featured Post

The Naked Truth - He didn’t just write a pretty story we could act out, he worked hard to delicately lay us out on the page together, as we are.

See also: Pleasurists #56 and #57 for all your sex toy review needs

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Tricky Balls
Propaganda Sucks in All Directions
What Not to Fetishwear
Wicked Grounds
Which Reindeer Sex Style Are You? Five Tuesday: 2010 AVN Award Nominees

Kink & Fetish

Presence
Come what may..
While I waited
Caning Before the Movies
Say...
Savoring Submission
The Ruler
Give In
Flagging brown
The Mummy Returns
Finding Power Through Play
Marked
Microfantasy Monday 24

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Spanksgiving
Wife Unsure About Sex With Others
Morning
Thought Provoked
The Naked Truth
December: Month of the Rant
Less is More
That's My Cervix!
Femme Invisibility
Are You Just Kinky or Is It a Lifestyle
Baby Steps and Giant Leaps
Cyber Sex

Erotic Writing

Friends with Benefits
Restraint
Prolific
The Tease
Cock. Confession #386
Shower
Cal's wisdom
Blinded and Bound
The Little Things...
lust
The Witness
Quiet and Still
Giving and Receiving
Beasts in the Bathroom
Fixation: Touch
The Pussy Eating Challenge
An Oceans Release part 1
MFM: Etiquette
Office Party
Daydreams & Distractions Droit de Cuissage
Tant pis
Toys, toys, toys
Revenge (Pt. 1)
Gush
Claiming: Assume the Position

Monday, December 14, 2009

Picture





Masturbation should be about having fun.  She looks like she's enjoying herself, which in turn makes me want to enjoy myself...

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Cal's wisdom

Pop culture is responsible for teaching kids about love, sex, relationships and everything in between.  It is not (or maybe should not) be the only teacher, but it's everywhere.  Some people hate this and talk about how they yearn for a simpler time without all the advertisements and constant talk about TV.  Others even go as far as to shield their children from these things by only letting them watch educational or religious television.


In the opinion of this guy who admittedly doesn't have kids (that he's aware of) this seems stupid.  Pop culture and advertising and the media is only going to find more and more ways to work itself into our collective consciousness.  Denying this to your child or stunting their development seems counter-intuitive to preparing them for the world.


That being said, there is a lot of pop culture out there that is positive for kids.  Anything that causes somebody to think is generally a good thing.  And if it can help you realize something about your life or the way you handle a situation is wrong and needs improvement, even better.


Thus, I have no shame in saying that I believe strongly in one of the messages in the movie "The 40 Year Old Virgin".


Quick recap for those of you who haven't seen it, Steve Carell is a 40 year old virgin (very shocking given the title, I know) who works at a big box electronics retailer along the lines of Best Buy.  His friends find out that he's a virgin and make it their personal goal to get him laid.  Each friend goes about it differently, relaying wisdom and advice on the clueless Carell. But the piece of advice that stuck out, the one I believe in, is the one that Seth Rogen's character doles out.


"Listen, when I was growing pot, I realized that the more seeds I planted, the more pot I could ultimately smoke."


Now I'm not advocating anybody become a pot farmer, Rogen's character was using it as a metaphor for picking up women.  And I totally agree with this theory, which brings us to the story of Stef.


Like a lot of parents in America, mine got divorced and they moved away from each other.  I remained with my mother, but I visited my father from time to time.  And when you're in high school and you have to visit your single parent in a town you've never lived in from time to time, and you've never lived there, and don't know anybody there, and are much too young to get into a bar, you're forced to come up with things to do, or be forced to sit with said parent and watch a lot of movies.


Thus, I decided I should start internet friendships with girls in my dad's town in hopes of getting laid when I was there.


Enter Stef.  She was 5'10, had dyed black hair that she never bothered to comb much, and was probably around a size 14.  Big hips, ample breasts.  We shared a mutual taste for people watching/snarking at coffee shops, punk rock, and a general distaste for authority.


I was visiting my father over Labor Day weekend.  Get in Thursday night, leave Sunday morning.  Friday and Saturday day were set aside for hanging out with him.  Saturday night I was left to my own devices along with the keys to his SUV.  Stef knew this going in, and we had plans for Saturday night.  What plans I didn't know, but I'm sure I'd need a break.


After watching a late afternoon movie with my dad, I called Stef.  She gave me directions to her place, and I was off.  Navigating the streets of a town you're not familiar with often makes for slow travel, but I was excited to be driving my dad's SUV instead of my piece of shit car I had at the time.  I parked and checked out the large apartment building she was living in.


She buzzed me up and we met with a long hug.  Meeting somebody from the internet who you've talked to but never met is always an interesting experience.  On one hand you feel like you know the person, but on the other, seeing them in the flesh and touching them is always a little strange.  In my mind I always debate how friendly I should be, and am invariably uncomfortable to some degree.


Luckily, Stef was warm and happy to see me, which made things easy.  I didn't get the full story, but she was something of a runaway.  Her parents were also divorced, but she found neither of their living situations to be a good environment to live, and moved out when she was 17.  She found a gay couple who were sympathetic, and she stayed in their living room.


Made sense to me, and I admired her for getting out of a crappy situation and doing her best, but didn't say anything about it.  Instead I asked what we were doing tonight.


"Come on, I'll show you."


We exit her building, and walk down the street a few blocks to a supermarket.  She seems to know one of the people working one of the registers, who doesn't even give a second glance when ringing up a bottle of whiskey as her only purchase.  Stef put it in a plastic bag, and then into her purse without missing a beat.  I thought this was the coolest thing I had ever seen, but again, said nothing about it.


We get back to my dad's SUV and get in.  She directs me a couple miles to the local alternative book store/coffee shop.  It's the kind of place with a lot of dirty couches, baristas with multiple nose piercings, an old Sony ghetto blaster blaring the latest local noise rock, a small stage for readings & live music, huge mugs of coffee, and infinite possibilities.


The girl slinging the coffee also knew Stef, and she quickly introduced me.  My brain quickly had visions of a torrid threesome, but I knew not to expect much.  Besides, I was growing fonder and fonder of Stef.  She knew people that mattered.  She was doing her own thing.  She was cool.  And I wanted her because of it.


We took the coffee back to a brown and green patterned couch that looked like it was from the mid 70s, and probably hadn't been cleaned since then either.  Stef takes a drink of coffee, and holds it in her hand with her purse next to her.  I do the same and try to look as comfortable as possible.  We begin to chat again, and she instructs me to take another drink out of my "World's Greatest Teacher" mug that I was given and then hold it down next to her purse.  I do, and with her left hand, Stef manages to unscrew the top of the bottle of whiskey and pour a healthy amount into my cup, and puts the top back on the bottle.  I swirl the coffee around a bit, and take a drink.


Wow.  Strong.  It was my first time ever having anything in my coffee other than sugar and and cream, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.


"Good right?"


"Yeah."  I cough a few times.


"Try to be less obvious."


Instantly my heart sinks for a second, but I manage to rebound.


"What about you?"


"Trade mugs with me."


I do, and she repeats the process, putting what seemed like twice the amount of whiskey in her mug.  She puts the bottle away, and we trade mugs again.  She grabs her mug with both hands, takes a long drink, and lets out a satisfying "Ahhhh."


Again, I am constantly impressed with how cool she is.  I was not used to girls being into hard liquor, nor sneaking it into coffee shops, or anything like this.  It felt exciting to be in her presence.  She was a rebel.  Or as much as a counter-culture Siouxsie Sioux looking girl could be.  Either way I knew I wanted her.


The evening progressed along these lines.  We'd talk for a little while, and somebody would come up to her that she knew.  They'd talk for a minute, then walk away, and we would continue our conversation.  To my credit, I kept up with the conversation, despite my increasing level of inebriation.  I was clearly not ready for the booze on an empty stomach, and it made my conviction in discussing the qualities of the band that I just made up even stronger.


A song would come on, and if I'd ever heard it on the radio, I'd roll my eyes.  If not, I'd debate its relative merits, explain who I thought the band was ripping off, and dismiss it.  Stef seemed to be interested in these things I was saying, especially when I started to connect songs to other people in the shop, while attempting not to talk about people who I had met a little while earlier.


Some awful song with no discernible melody would come on, and I'd mention how the guy with the green mohawk probably jerked off to this while writing his latest ode to an anarchistic society.  Stef would laugh and look into my eyes as I'd ramble and swing my mostly empty mug.  I was drunk, but not drunk enough to be oblivious to this.  I put my mug down and she turns to me.


"You wanna get out of here?"


"Yeah, what the fuck."


We get up and she says some good byes.  I attempt to maintain balance as I walk over to take the mugs back to the counter.  She rejoins me near the door as we exit.  The few functioning brain cells that weren't either drunk or insanely horny remind me that this is probably not the best time for me to be driving.  Stef appeared to be more sober, and despite this being my dad's SUV, he'd probably prefer it not crashed into a tree.  I take the keys out and give them to her.


"Take me somewhere good."


To this day, I have no idea where we went.  The ride had several twists and turns.  In the night, in a strange town, it's difficult enough to figure out where you are.  Add my drunkenness and the fact that the rest of me was thinking about how to get into her pants, location wasn't really on my mind.


Eventually, she pulls the car over and parks in what looks to be a fairly affluent part of town judging by the nice cars, neat landscaping and good sized houses.


"Where the fuck are we?" I slur.


"Somewhere that nobody will bother us," she replies.  Then leans over and kisses me.


Fireworks.  Explosions.  Symphony orchestras hitting a high note.  Everything inside me fixates on this kiss, and it completely blows my mind.  Not that I hadn't been looking forward to it, and wanting it.  But when the situation presents itself in what feels like a sudden manner, it's mind-altering.


I kiss her back.  Roughly, sloppily, hungrily.  She reaches over to the lever on the side of my seat and puts the seat back horizontal to the ground and gets on top of me.  We continue to make out in the most teenage way.  I put my arms around her, and she runs her fingers through my hair.  She starts breathing heavily, and I kiss her ear and bite her neck.


The windows quickly steam up.  We're both literally in heat.  I can feel the warmth of her pussy against my cock.  It strains against the fabric of my briefs, and wants her as much as I do.  My hands make their way under her shirt, and pushes her bra up as I roughly tweak her nipples.  I fumble with her bra clasp, but not as badly as I could have, as her breasts come spilling out.


Despite the only lighting coming from a few nearby street lamps, I can still see how pale breasts are, and how pink her nipples are.  It became clear to me through the course of making out that she likes things a bit rough, so after some initial sucking, I bite her nipples. She loves it and moans to express this.  I alternate between sucking and biting, while palming the other.


I adore the way her breasts felt in my hand.  Heavy.  Full.  Supple.  Had I not been dying to fuck her, I could have played with her breasts all night.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  I needed to taste her.


Stef crawls over me to the back seat, and we lay the back seats down.  This is where things get tricky.  I'm tall.  She's tall.  Despite the SUV being large, we were going to have to figure something out.  She tries laying down across the back seats, but there's no room for me.  She lays the other way with her head by the lift gate, and there's more room, but still not enough.  She then moves so she's diagonally across the back, and half sitting/half laying against the wall.  There ends up being just enough room for me to lay down between her legs, and I quickly do.


She lifts her ass off the seat and takes her black jeans and red lacy panties off with my help. Her pussy was unshaven, and also deliciously wet.  I dove right in.  My technique was lacking, but I was awfully enthusiastic, which was about par for the course.  I licked.  I sucked.  And I finger banged her as best I could, given the circumstances.  Stef seemed to be enjoying herself, or at least doing a good job at faking, but not as fast as I was getting uncomfortable.  Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult.  The already steamy air inside the SUV was smelling more and more like sex, to the point of saturation.  I couldn't take it any more, and brought my head up from between her legs.


"How was that?" I ask, already knowing the answer, but needing a quick break.


"Great, but could you keep going?"


"Yeah."


I continue where I left off, but decide to give more preference to my fingers.  Instead of two, I use three inside of her, and I alternate the rhythm with my licking of her clit.  This seemed to work, as Stef immediately started to get louder as I did it.  I wanted to get her off, and I found a way that seemed to be working.  It made me happy, as I continued.  Her hips started bucking up and down.  I attempted to keep contact with my tongue on her clit while fingering her despite the added level of difficulty.


My mind became focused.  This was the way to get her off.  My fingers and tongue had a strategy and I didn't care how difficult it was damn it, she was going to cum for me.  I wanted to prove to her that I was worthy.  The hand that wasn't inside her grabbed her hand.  She grasped it tightly.  Still I licked.  Still my fingers fucked.


Her breathing shortened.  Then stopped completely.  Then a loud grunt as her cunt muscles contracted around my fingers.  She let go of my hand, and pushed my head away.  I was more than happy to comply, as I let her orgasm subside.  Stef regained a bit of composure and hugged me, as I made my way up to her.


"Mmmm."


"Glad I could help."


I let her catch her breath a bit, and we soon after fucked, but it was lackluster.  Most of our energy had been spent already.  And despite the fact that I came, and she came twice more, it almost seemed like an afterthought.


Stef showed me an incredible night.  I was in what felt like a constant state of awe around her.  She made me glad to be alive and gave me hope for the future.  And I gave her orgasms.  Other things too obviously, but I was mainly proud of the orgasms.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Picture

Didn't have time to write this week, but I'll make it up next week with a good one.  Enjoy a picture of what looks to be a nice blowjob.





Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

[e]lust #2


Twisted Monk as The Bad Cop

Photo courtesy of Twisted Monk



Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you're looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you're going to find it here. Want to be included in the next edition? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site's sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

♦ This Week's Top Three Posts ♦


The Heart of Darkness 
"I swear that man can sense my fear like a hound scenting a rabbit, and just like the hound, his blood rises to it." 

Forever...
 - "Forever is a beautiful idea, a wonderful goal, but it’s not a magic spell."

His First Fuck "He stood there, obviously nervous, obviously aroused by what he had been witness to seconds earlier."

◊ e[lust] Editress ◊

I Dare You "Aided by our clutches of printed papers, me hiding my nipples that could cut glass and him hiding the hard bulge in his dress pants, we scurried back to our cubes where the messages flew back and forth." 

♦ Featured Post ♦

Who am I?
 - "I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life and couldn’t fit it all on one piece of poster board." 


See alsoPleasurists #55 for all your sex toy review needs


All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


♦ Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships ♦

First. Confession #380
In Defense of Squirting
Forever...
Gender, Buck Angel, and Me
G Spot Orgasms: It's all about the clitoris
Spitroast 
They May be Bi, But They're Still Boys
Why I Sometimes Fake Orgasms
Wonderland: The British in Bed


♦ Kink & Fetish ♦

The Workout (fiction)
I Am Not Clark Kent
Caning 
Lips Parted
Curve
She brought her own toys
Rope Bondage: Hemp vs. Mfp
Phew! Another Hole
Hearts
My virginity and how I lost it..
Gift
Spicing it up: Bondage Materials


♦ Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor ♦

20 Questions with Cyd
This Ain't No Disney
A Thank You Note
Vegas Virgins
Sex and Happiness

♦ Erotic Writing ♦


1 Full Body Massage / 1 Happy Ending
The Slut Chronicles #7 ~ I Said No
To Do List 
the date
And Your Hands and Your Lips and Your Tongue Tricks 
Oh Fuuuck
I Get Around
Sometimes, Love Hurts
In The Dark
Making Up
Quickie - A Good Girl
What I Want You To Do To Me
Hitachi Fun
Her Curves
Carnal
marks she left
Wicked Wednesday: I Love Watching You Watching Me
Birthday Boy
Fucking & Making Love
Thy Mother and Thy Father: A Vodoun Love Spell
What Just Happened?
Happy Birthday Me
What Cums Around