The [Sexual] World Inside My Head

Okay, so I REALLY like the Hamptons...

2006-08-18T12:10:00.000-04:00

Well, that condo turns out to be a really nice place to live, and good timing being what it is, I am now One of The Team posting at Chilli Talk. So, for a while, expect to see me over there, and ONLY over there.

Talking Dirty My Way

2006-08-14T15:21:00.000-04:00

A Treatise on Writing Porn

I: Porn versus Erotica

I have actually seen this argument break out in a lot of the weirdest places, and over some of the strangest grounds ever. Most people want to ascribe the tag of "erotica" to whatever it is they enjoy experiencing, some want to limit it to things that are written (as opposed to pictures or videos), others want to control it as whether or not it's art. To make this point perfectly clear: I write pornography. I do not write erotica. What is my distinction? Erotica is art that induces feelings of sexual arousal. Pornography is anything else that induces arousal. The issue then rests on "what is art?"

Art, to my manner of thinking, is the use of some means of communication to express more than the literal meaning of the communication, normally with an eye towards describing the human condition. When I write a story, I have no message. I am trying to get my readers hot and bothered, plain and simple. Now, I take a very artistic approach, and try to convey my ideas with as much skill and beauty as possible, but at the end of the day, all I care about is whether or not the reader has one hand or two below the table.

But, at the end of the day, there is only one true rule about writing: Write what you enjoy! If you don't enjoy what you are writing, it's going to be really tough to convince someone else to enjoy it.

II: Consistency

The single most important thing to any work of pornographic prose is the story. It can cover any ground, involve any people, and have them do any thing. But some stories bomb while others sizzle. Why? The first part has to do with internal logic. I have read perfectly arousing stories that have people unhinging their jaws to deep-stomach a dick that bumps into its owner's chin. This scene is obviously (I hope)
unrealistic, but it worked. Why? Because the story stuck to its own, goofy, delirious internal logic, and didn't back off of it.

My stories generally occur in the real world, on Planet Earth. I have not, and probably will not, write a story that occurs in space. So I have to deal with things like gravity, air, water, and other facts of Life on Earth. What this means is that Amazonian woman who was crushing beer cans in her bare hands can't be tossed around like a toy by the circus midget she had some weird fetish for. Now, you are probably
rolling your eyes and asking, "Why does this matter?" After all, as long as everyone gets their rocks off, who cares? Well, the reader does, just not consciously. Read this scene:

Monica pulled Bill's tie, dragging his face up against hers and the two kissed. Bill pushed her coat off her shoulders, and she crossed her arms behind her back suggestively. Bill sank downward, his tongue licking her breasts, suckling her nipples. Monica moaned and wrapped her legs around him. He stood up, hands squeezing her shoudlers as his hips rammed against hers, slamming his cock inside her.

what's wrong here? Firstly, these two never took their clothes off! Quite clearly, Bill was wearing some sort of suit, as was Monica. Now, one can argue that in paragraphs preceding this excerpt this could have been explained away with Bill wearing only a tie and Monica, only a coat, but that still makes the point. The clothes have to go sometime, and they need to be accounted for. Now, most readers, who are hopefully masturbating in some fashion at this point, aren't likely to be
specifically criticizing this point. However, somewhere in the back of their minds, the story is not adding up. The image is incomplete and the sense of immersion is being broken. This type of thing is part of the difference between a "hot" and "okay" story.

Look, if your hero is wearing shoes, he needs to take them off at some point. Even if it is just one throwaway sentence to the effect of "he stripped down to his bare ass," it needs to be there to keep the reader "sucked in," to the story, so to speak. Now, I prefer to expand on this and make it an integral part of the events, either as something erotic in its own right, or as a tense interlude, but HOW you do it is up to you. What's important is THAT you do it.

The other part of internal logic is the characters. The characters need to be real people. They can certainly act in unrealistic ways (how many black girls who like renaissance festivals really fuck random white jerkoffs who grope them right out of the fun house?) but they, too, have to be consistent. A shy, inexperienced girl being seduced for the first time is unlikely to scream rich obsenities while riding her first lover and whipping him with a cat o' nine tails. And, if she is the
shouting type, the vocabulary is likely to limited. Again, it is something that won't necessarily get specific criticism from the reader, but will puncture their sense of immersion, and take the edge off your stories.

This is where dialogue becomes such a challenge. It is depressingly easy to completely let the air of out of a good story by having an otherwise-realistic person start screaming like a porn star. I personally keep dialogue to a minimum, ESPECIALLY when it is during the sex, because it is so hard to have peope talk about what happens and not seem ridiculous. To a writer, I strongly advise them to carefully consider their dialogue.

Now, all this said, this not a ban on anything outlandish. If you want to write about two lesbians going at it in Central Park on the Fourth of July for everyone to see, go for it. But, you do need to acknowledge the fact that it is outrageous. If people read what's going on thinking "man, they would SO get arrested," they are NOT thinking "Ho-ly SHIT this is hot!" So have a few onlookers shouting at them, or busybodies immobilized by shock. Account for reality, don't just submit to it.
After all, if reality truly rules everything, then there wouldn't be so many stories to write, would there?

III: The Setup

The plot of your basic porn story is three parts: the setup, the action, and the ending. The setup can be any length, as long as it is interesting for its length. The setup should never be one word longer than necessary, but it shouldn't be shorter than appropriate either. One of my favorite stories, "A Girl Named Charlie" by Day Dreamer has an eleven paragraph setup, which is huge. Of course, he follows it with forty paragraphs of action, so the payoff is pretty good! Of course, this
story actually highlights a more sophicated structure, that I will cover later. Returning to the point of the Setup, we need to accomplish a brief set of goals:

-Introduce all the players
-Describe the primary chracteristics of the players
-Move them into the location of the action
-Set them on the road to Fucksville

There is no rule on how long it has to be in order to convey the message. Obviously, the eleven paragraphs of "A Girl Name Charlie" are on the long side, but they also do a tremendous job of creating sexual tension in the reader, because they acquaint us very thoroughly with the characters and the way in which we get to the scene of the crime. But just because a setup is longer, that does not automatically make it better. If you find yourself wanting to skip over parts of the setup as you
read it, then it needs to be shorter. It's that simple. If you can't hold your own interest, you shouldn't expect to hold anyone else's!

IV: The Action

Okay, now let's talk about the good stuff. Obviously, if we went Victorian and reduced it to, "She woke up the next morning, aglow with love," there wouldn't much point to this, would there? But, there is certainly room to screw up on the other extreme, too. It would be very easy to reduce a woman undressing to "She exposed her tits." But that sentence isn't very interesting, is it? How did she do it? Did she unbutton her shirt, pull it off, unzip her dress, what? Was she wearing a bra,
and what did it look like? What did her breasts look like? I've seen a lot of tits in my day, and there is a ton of possibilities here. At the same time, we don't need microscopic detail, or medical dictionary.

This gets to the biggest observation about my writing: I don't use slang for body parts. It has nothing to do with being inhibited or anything like that. I have no compunction about saying, or writing any words, and I don't think there is anything wrong with talking about cocks and pussies. EXCEPT in the context above. To me, simply saying what it is cuts off a rich opportunity to be much more descriptive. And a description feeds so much more into the imagination of a reader than a simple
word. Not only does it more precisely convey what you are envisioning, it helps to make the experience of reading more exotic, by taking to the reader to a place they wouldn't have just imagined on their own.

All that said, my same principles of realism above apply to this, as well. People's arms and legs have to go SOMEWHERE. The bonus is that, a lot of the time, describe the contortions that people go through to get their bodies together adds to the hotness of the story. If someone is coping with a weirdly painful position because what they are having is SO GOOD, that only adds to the reader's impression of "Wow, this must be HOT." Of course, if you are tilting more into fantasy, you have more leeway. But you need to be consistent.

My own style, a lot of times, edges right onto gritty realism, where I like to include a lot of the less-than-ideal aspects. Guys will cum too quickly, girls might need more attention after intercourse to get off, and so forth. This is absolutely NOT necessary. I just happen to like it in my stories. The point of the principles of realism is immersion, not journalism. You are not a newspaper reporter trying to cobble together a balanced, unbiased review of the events! You are trying to make
it seem as hot as possible. The point is not to get SO outrageous (at least, without acknowledging the fact) that readers start backing out on you.

V: Structure

How does the story happen? I, personally, write a lot of boy(s)-meet(s)-girl(s), boy(s)-like(s)-girl(s), boy(s)-spontaneously fuck(s)-girl(s)-who-fuck(s)-him/them-back, principles part ways or imply more action, stories. In "A Girl Name Charlie," boy meets girl, boy takes girl to movie, gets to third base, takes her home, next date eats her out and gets blown, takes her home, next date gets to home base, and checks the back door. Obviously, it's a long, long story, but the slower, richer
advance works really well, especially since it is written about teenagers in the forties, where even going all the way after three dates is being unspeakably easy. The point is that there is a progression. If the two characters already know each other, or already lovers, then that progression can be very short. Or, it can take place after an event where things get carried too far. But there needs to be SOME sort of arc to really give the events some weight. A simple vignette, a fuck out of
context, can certainly be done, and it can even be done well, but a story that provides enough information to give a little bit of color to the story ,and provide some meaning to the events, can add a lot of punch to what you write. It doesn't have to be much, but that little bit of color as to WHY these two people are fucking is the spice that makes the pie.

VI: Conclusions

I have tried to explain WHY I do what I do, and HOW I do it. And sure, I titled the article about doing things my way, but the ultimate point to all of this is make written porn better. It's not to produce an army of Mini-Me's out on the net who are exactly duplicating my work, although I don't think that would be a backwards step by any means. What I want the reader to get out of this is how to chase down the little details that keep taking the edge off of what should be a very good story, written in their own voice. Nothing is worse that a person writing out of their own skin, trying to sound like someone their not. It doesn't work in the bars, and it doesn't work in stories. So go out, be you, and have some fun. If all goes well, a lot of other people will get to have fun, too.

Swwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeetttttttt!

2006-08-02T08:39:00.000-04:00

Fleshbot took notice of the publication of the second part of "The Documentary." It's nice to be noticed.

And be sure to check the third and final chapter when it hits. The little underlying pattern of part one being about one-person sex (masturbation), part two involving two-person sex...

I'm sure you can work the rest of the math.

New story coming up

2006-07-21T08:15:00.000-04:00

Part 1 (of what I intend to be 3) of "The Documentary" is starting to post over at Chilli. Check it out.

Having a condo in the Hamptons

2006-04-30T10:20:00.000-04:00

Can't really say I am getting a new home, buuuuuuuuuuut...

I am writing stories for Chili talk now. I'll still post some here if they don't wind up over there, but there will be no cross-posting. If it's there, it ain't here, and vice versa. I'm hoping getting some more readers will motivate me to write more, because I really enjoy doing it.

See you there!

Relaxation for Kim

2006-04-27T15:04:00.000-04:00

Danny sat down in the cafeteria, absolutely bursting with energy, his mind barely aware of the world around him. Generally, in hospital cafeterias, this is a good way to go, as people are all over the map in these places. As he was about to bite into some very mysterious food in front of him, he looked across the table to see an exhausted woman in scrubs rubbing her neck and shooting him a major "what the hell" look. He quickly apologized, and explained that his first nephew had been born today. He spied her name tag: Kimberly. Kimberly smiled tiredly and congratulated him.

"Sorry about the attitude, it's been a long day."

"Doing what?"

"Keeping people alive, not that they believe me."

He smiled and edged a little closer to her as she talked about her job, the ungrateful patients all over the place and their even crazier families. Being responsible for some many people was really exhausting, she observed grimly. But she found Danny ebullience infectious. Finally he asked her if there was anything he could do for her.

"Know a good masseuse?"

"I know a gifted amateur," he grinned devilishly. She smiled back.

"Well, it's something," and she pointed to her shoulders. Danny eagerly walked around behind her and began rubbing on her tight muscles. Her eyes quickly closed as she focused on his big, warm hands working on her. She felt a lot of the stress fading away, and she could faintly smell his cologne wafting downward. This felt REALLY good.

"There, now you are doing much better." he said, as he let go of her shoulders, his hands departing with a soft caress that sent chills shooting through her body. He sat back down, his eyes glowing at her. As tired as she was of making decisions, she made one more.

"Have you been celebrating the little one?"

"Not yet, everyone has been here all day."

"I know a good bar to have a cigar at near here. I'll get the cancer stick if you get the drinks." He smiled knowingly back at her.

"Not interested in the cigar, but the rest is fine." She paused for a moment. This is moving awful fast, but she really needed this. And the last thing she really wanted to was to marinate in a bunch of secondhand smoke that she would have to wash out of her clothes..

"Tell you what, if you like rum, I have plenty of that at my place, and we can save on the bar tab." Danny's face flushed with excitement at what was coming, and he nodded quickly. "Okay, you drive. I am done being in charge today." They quickly made their way through the labyrinth of the hospital and out to the parking deck. Danny flew through traffic to the small house she lived in. She quickly unlocked the door, took his hand, and led him to the bedroom. He closed the bedroom door behind himself.

She turned and looked up at him, clasping her hands behind his head as she tilted her head to the left, opening her mouth. he eagerly reciprocated, the flat of his tongue caressing hers in her mouth. His lips were warm and soft on hers, as her pulse pounded in her ears. What a great kisser, she thought. The kiss was repeated over and over, his hands were splayed on her back roving over it, finally lifting the top of her scrubs off. She quietly cursed to herself that she had worn a very plain minimizer bra, but Danny soon dispensed with it as well, as she shrugged her way out of it when he unclasped it. He kneeled in front of her, bring her chest level to his face. She looked down as he happily massaged both breasts with hands before exposing her nipple to his eager mouth. His tongue snaked out, tracing the areola, each circle winding its way to the increasingly erect bud. His lips pressed down, hiding his tongue from her view, but she felt in madly circling in his mouth, then flicking as he started to suck on her. She moaned appreciatively at his ministrations, and ran her hands through his hair.

He lifted off, blowing a cool stream of air on her nipple to dry it off. He then kissed his way slowly down the swell of her breast, into her cleavage, mixing small licks in as he drifted up the other side to her other nipple. Again he began the slow circling, teasing his way to the sensitive little bump with almost agonizing deliberateness. Her breath caught when he finally made contact, her fingers balling up in his hair. He smiled, holding her wet nipple gently between his teeth, pressing them in just a bit before resuming the warm soft licks. Kim was feeling even more aroused as he began to trickle kisses and lick up her chest, along her neck, over her pulse to her ear, breathing on her ear as his hand went up into her hair, pulling her head away from his touch, bring her lips back to his. She hungrily resumed kissing him, her hands running over his shirt, clenching the fabric in one hand as she tugged upward. He quickly reached over and pulled his shirt off over her head, dropping it behind her. Her hands roved over his chest, feeling his muscles beneath her touch. her eyes look downward at the bulge on his jeans. He smiled and push her head down as she sank to her knees.

With an authoritive grin, he undid his belt, the leather swing in form of her fact. He then pulled the fly open, the buttons popping softly, and pushed his jeans down while his feet worked out of his shoes. Kim quickly slid her own shoes off as she felt him push her face into the thin cotton of his shorts, the warm pulsing bulge radiating through the fabric against her mouth. She opened up, blowing hot air onto him. As he stepped out of his jeans, he pulled her head back to push his shorts away, and the thick, heavy organ bounced in front of her. She opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out and running it under the warm shaft, letting the weight apply the pressure to her tongue. As she reach the top she turned her head back around and began taking him past her wet lips into her mouth. Her nose filled with his masculine odor as her head began bobbing, sucking on him, feeling his hot, hard length across her tongue. His hand pushed her head all the way down onto him, nearly to her throat. She heard his voice. "Shit..." She felt a hot, salty jet filling her mouth. She quickly swallowed as the next load came, and another, and another. After swallowing the last load she began licking him up, cleaning his glistening member, taking the last few dribbles away. She looked up and saw him biting his lip in frustration. She smiled back at him.

His mood changed as he pushed the disappointment away to take control again. He pulled her up off her knees. "Take them off." He pointed to her pants. She smiled slyly as pushed them off, revealing a tiny thong. "That too." She grinned coyly as she hooked her thumb under the string on her hips, swaying a little as she guided it to the floor. He pushed her down to the bed on her back, her hips at the edge. She lifted her legs up as knelt in front of her. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations:

A tongue on her inner thigh, dragging downward toward her center

The tongue on her other leg, again, meandering up her thigh

Hot breath on her body

A tongue, tracing around the her most delicate flesh

A finger, right at her center, rolling, flicking, wetting itself on her.

A tongue replacing the finger, curling upward, dragging her wetness up to her throbbing clitoris-

Her eyes flashed open as her breath rushed out in a moan. As the room stopped spinning she was aware of a tongue flicking up and down madly on her clit, and finger inside her curling, searching for that tiny washboard insi-

A dazzling rush of heat exploded from her hips as her found the spot. His lips clamped down on her, bathing her in warmth as his tongue continued to work furiously on the engorged knob outside as his finger conducted a very selective massage inside her body. She realized she was screaming. She found her hands pulling her his head into her body. The waves of heat started rising, cresting -

AND

EXPLODING. Kim was writhing on the bed, out of control as Danny's oral assault continued on her. She swam through blazing waves rolling out of her center, trying to remember what was happening. Suddenly, the ocean began to quiet. Her eyes began to focus again, her vision cleared as she was aware that he had stopped. There was a quiet, rhythmic slapping sound. She struggled and lifted her head up to see him stroking himself back to erection. His eyes flashed wickedly, as he pulled a small piece of wrapper out of his pocket. She watched with fascination as he unrolled the condom onto himself, an odd moment of quiet before the storm.

He grabbed her knee and threw it across her body, ordering her to roll over. She complied, lifting herself up onto her hands and knees. She felt his hands, one slick and one dry, grasp her hips. She then felt the thick, warm head of his erection against her. The slick hand let go of her hips to guide him. He ran the head up and down over her engorged organs, wetting it. Finally, he settled on that soft spot, and slowly...slowly pressed inward. His hand grabbed her hips again and he pulled her back, impaling her slowly. Desire overcame her as she pushed her hips back against him. He spanked her, playfully, and she shivered as the stinging of his hand quickly subsided into pleasing warmth. She sensed the discovery in him.

Suddenly he jerked, ramming the rest of the length home, nearly striking her cervix, filling her almost completely. She screamed out as the pain melted into pleasure. He spanked her again, then grabbed her shoulders as began to thrust. His hand lashed across her cheeks, sending electric shockwaves through her body that were chased away the familiar rising heat. His other hand jerked her shoulders back, planting her all the way down his shaft. The rough treatment, the taking away of all her role in this, the total control of her body, commanded all of her attention. She poured her stress into it, giving herself up to him as he became increasingly violent, spanking her, pounding her body. As took control, her arousal spiraled out of control. She surrendered to the pleasure, the raging wall of sensations from the spanking, her muscles trying to grab the unyielding rock inside her as it pumped through her body, his hands pushing her along his shaft. Orgasms plowed across her, one after another. She felt the last her energy drain from her body as she went completely limp, sliding off of him. He pushed her onto her back, as he quickly straddled her chest, peeling the wet latex off. He laid himself on her mouth, where she licked at him absently, aware of her role but incapable of action. His hand quickly began pumping along his shaft, working another climax form his body. Soon enough there was a warm dribble rolling off of the mushroom head, dripping into her mouth, which she accepted with a few warm licks.

He slid down behind her, hold her close, their bodies bathed in each other's warmth as a thin film of sweat quickly formed between them. Her eyes opened slowly to see her alarm clock. 9:45. This night was still young...

A Lack of Professionalism

2006-01-03T18:51:00.000-05:00

"I love LA." These were the exact words in my head as Melanie roughly grabbed my erection through my slacks and pointed it upwards. The lithe dancer had earlier promised to "molest the fuck out of" me and she was making good on this. Of course, while she making these adjustment she was keeping her breasts jammed in my face. And of course this club was nonsmoking. I have to admit, I love California ordnances. She then ground her hips on me as she reached a little lower to fondle the rest of me.

We were talking at the same time. It was her birthday, so I had tipped her double on the first dance, which seemed to really win some points. Apparently, I had picked the slowest night of the year to show up (of course!) and I was her first private dance of the night (naturally!) and she was just glad to get some work. Not that I mind being made to feel important, mind you, but I generally know better than to believe what a stripper is saying. Anyhow, it was getting to the end of her shift and was curious if I had ever been to the bartending school next door. Of course I hadn't, and apparently you can get drinks there really cheap (you get what you pay for?), and she was curious if I wanted a drink over there. Now, I have had plenty of my buddies fall for the "meet me after work" line, of course, they were usually hitting on the performer, which I never bother with. So, I didn't know if she was just on autopilot here, but I just smiled and said I would love to meet her. After a few more dances of increasing vigorousness, I went back out to the main room, and killed a few minutes (and a lot of singles), then headed out to the car.

Now, to be totally honest, I really expected to just sit there half an hour, see no one go into the school and then head on back to the hotel. But I was almost putting my key in the lock when I heard her voice behind me. "Where are you going?"

"To get my phone." Damn, I'm smooth.

"Okay, meet me over here?" she said, pointing to the bartending school.

"You bet."

I made motions to grab the phone that I was pretending was in the car and was actually in my pocket then walked over to the school to find a surprisingly bar-like setup. I pulled up in the stool next to her.

"So what's your real name?"

"Melanie." She saw my surprise. "I normally go by Dallas in there." Ah, there we go. She ordered a margarita, and, trying to keep the degree of difficulty low, I ordered a Lynchburg Lemonade, which got me two dollars lighter, and one twisted facial expression as what tasted like Jim Beam and vermouth hit my mouth. She laughed a bit as I set the drink on the bar far enough from my hand to keep me from idly sipping it. She set her hand on my knee.

"Where are you staying?"

"At the Mariott by the airport?"

"Nice room?"

"About average."

"Can I see it?"

"Socially?"

"Sure, let's go."

I pulled my tip off the bar and we darted across the dark street to the collection of vaugely mobile parts that was my rental car. I pulled out and felt her hand on my thigh. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Not at all."

Now, I have had a fair number of adventures in cars, but never in a moving vehicle. She decided not to bother with my belt and unzipped my pants. Her hand went in, popping the button on my shorts, and I felt her cool fingers grab my half-hard maleness. She quickly pulled it free of the fabric. I put my right arm on the back of her seat and she leaned over. I felt her tongue's electrifying prescence on me as her mouth sank down, and quickly the blood rushed from the rest of my body to meet her skilled ministrations. She started bobbing her head aggressively, taking the full length in. I had barely realized what she was doing before I felt my body unleashing streams of fluid into her mouth, which she quickly swallowed. After a few milking motions she lifted her head off and put me back together, just as I was pulling off the highway.

"Nice and thick. I am going to enjoy feeling that in me."

"I'm going to love making you feel in it in you." She smiled as she pulled an Altoid tin from her purse as I pulled into the hotel. She took my hand, interlacing our fingers as we walked into the hotel. The elevator arrived, we stepped in, and I pressed the 7. As the doors closed she pulled my face to hers, kissing me. Her mouth tasted frigid from the mints, but her tongue was amazing, darting through my mouth. we reached the top floor and quickly went to my room, which was directly next to the elevator. I smoothly (for once!) got the key card in and out of the lock and we stepped in. As the door closed behind her I pinned her to the door, kissing her. She kissed back and then pushed me off.

"Go sit down," she pointed to the armless straight back chair under the desk. I did so, facing the chair into the room. She turned on the radio and adjusted it to one of the eight thousand radio stations in LA and some jazz softly filled the room. She opened her coat and revealed her chains-and-thong costume from the club. "This is where I get what I really wanted." She stepped over to me, straddling my right leg, her hand on my shirt buttons, slowly undoing the top button. The cool chains covering her breasts draped on my face as pressed her nipple to my lips. Then time I opened my mouth wide, licking circles around her nipples as she swiftly undid my shirt with her practiced hands. She then laid one arm over my head and turned it up to her face. "I knew you were going to be good at that." She lowered her face to mine, her hair draping around my face as she kissed me again, her tongue slowly exploring my mouth as her other hand lifted my undershirt, pinching my nipple. I groand a bit into her mouth as she broke the kiss and pusehd my shirt off my shoulders. I reached behind her to unbutton the cuffs, but she stopped me. Melanie lifted the fabric over the back of the chair and draped it behind, pinning my arms behind me. She toyed briefly with the black undershirt, smiling at me. "I knew when I saw this you were a gentleman." I smiled.

"So remembering to wear a tee makes you a gentleman?" I teased her. She leaned over and licked my ear.

"It means you will be getting lucky tonight. Is that good enough?" she breathed.

"Plenty!"

She dragged her lips down my neck, barely touching me, a move she had no doubt perfected at her job. I felt her breath come burning out. Her hands grabbed my undershirt and yanked it up, pushing it over my and down my arms, further trapping them behind me. She held herself over me, standing between my legs. She wrapped her arms around my head, pushing toward the cold chains over her breasts, nestling it in her cleavage, then began to sink down again, grazing her lips over my face before settling on my mouth for another kiss, deep and passionate, but brief as she drifted down further, just grazing my body until she settled on my nipples again, flicking with her tongue, then biting just a bit. Her hands drifted down from my shoulders, her touch impossibly light. She flicked her tongue out, teasing my chest and belly as settled onto her knees, her face dangerous close to the pulsing bulge in my pants. Her hands both settled on it, rubbing the sides gently through the cloth as she looked up and smiled at me.

She then stood up and faced away from me. Her hips came to rest right on the bulge, pressing her weight arousingly into the rigid lump below. She looked over her shoulder, smiling impishly as she tugged at the knot in the center of her back, releasing her top. A second tug behind her neck and she was only in a thong. I unbuttoned the cuffs of my shirt, letting both of them fall free, but obiediently keeping my hands out of sight. She smiled as she ground her hips into my pants. Then she turned and faced me, straddling my hips, settling her weight squarely on the rail in my pants as she leaned over and kissed me again, settling the dark curtain of her hair over me. As she did, her hands slid down my arms to find I had disposed of my bonds. She pulled my hands back, guiding them to her upper thighs, so close to the cloth-covered contact between us. She broke kiss and lifted up a bit, pushing her breasts in my face, demanding my attention. I happily complied, suckling her a bit as I ran my tounge in fast circles around the bud before flicking it quickly up and down. She moaned at this before finally shifting my attentions across her chest.

As my hands slide farther up, cupping her cheeks, I could feel a burning heat between them. I wrapped my right hand around and began rubbing her through her thong, which I found to be totally soaked. She moaned approvingly, and I tugged the fabric aside, letting her odor quickly waft up to my face. I wet my finger in her center before winding it through her flesh to find the hidden bud. Quikcly I began flicking away. She pushed my head off her breast and sank lower, resting her thighs on mine so as not to take away my access. Her touch, previously so light became heavy as she rested her lithe body on mine, and I felt her warmth on me. As the motions picked up, she began to shiver from the sensations. I doubled my efforts. She bit my ear, moaning. "Don't stop. Don't stoooooooooooooop!" I felt the shivers intensify and start to crest, so I shifted my very wet finger down and pressed against her opening, quickly sinking into her. She let out a deep yelp in pleasure, leaving my ear ringing from the noise and tingling from the rush of her breath. I curled my finger inside her, looking for the spot. Her head snapped back as her body exploded into convulsions when I found it. I quickly pumped my hand in and out, striking the spot over and over. She ground her whole body against my hand, keeping her chest pinned to, clinging her arms around my back, her breath coming out in ragged shouts into my over-worked ear. Finally I heard her begging me to stop. I slowed my hand down, leaving my finger inside her as she lay limply on me, glistening with sweat in the dimly lit room.

I pulled my hand out, releasing the twisted fabric of her thong as I held her on my lap, my hands on holding her hips. Quickly, her strength returned and she peeled herself off me. She stood up over me and pushed her thong over her hips, dropping it to the floor, finally, totally revealing herself to me. Melanie then dropped to her knees, unbuckling my belt and nearly tearing my pants and shorts off. Seeing a sign of fatigue before her, she smiled and took me into her mouth, sucking the head. She lifted her very full mouth off to lick around the tip, sending intense waves radiating from the point. She squeezed me a bit with her hand, confirming that eveything was in order. She rose to her feet and straddled me, one hand behind my neck, one below her hips, pointing me into her body. She started to lower herself, just making the first wet contact, and running her hips over me. I bit my lip and groaned a bit. She smiled, and lowered her face again, kissing slow, and deep. As the kiss became increasingly involved she pushed her hips down, taking me in. I felt her wince at first as she first enveloped the thickness, but she took a breath and sank the rest of the way on to me, enclosing my throbbing erection in a blinding wave of heat and pleasure. There she held still for a moment, commanding her muscles to relax. Her hand splayed flat on my chest, her hand covering my nipple. She broke the kiss and looked at me, her eye contact intense. She bit her lip and began to grind. Her mouth turned into a smile as she never broke eye contact, pushing her hips up and down. Our breaths mingled as each of us began to surrender conscious control. My hands held her hips, turning them up and down as she rose and fell. I became aware she was moaning through the cloud of sensations, but I dared not break eye contact. Her mouth was open, screams were escaping. The stars became novas as she exploded into climax, her muscles spasming madly, clenching me, propelling me into my own ecstasy. Our bodies erupted together. I felt explosive, seizing her lithe body in my hands. I stood up, our bodies conjoined, and fell backwards into the bed. Her hair covered my face, our bodies were sweating profusely and the pleasure was stilling reverberating through every nerve, echoing back and forth between our bodies.

I blinked, trying to orient myself. She lay on me, panting, exhausted. I could feel myself shrinking away from her body, slipping out. She remained on me for a moment. I then felt the cold wave of air as her skin stripped itself from mine. She fell next to me on the bed, still breathing hard. Slowly the room came in focus, I became aware of myself again. She was on her side, smiling at me. She dragged a finger along my body. "You know, this was very unprofessional of me. So, when you write about this, please change my name?" I smiled at her, and promised I would. She slowly sat up on the bed and I admired her figure, the graceful curves of her body. She looked at my dark t-shirt on the floor. "Can I have this?" I smiled and nodded, and she pulled it on, admiring how the fabric settled happily around the curves of her body. She quickly gathered her remaining clothes, and put on her coat again leaving the top open this time, regaining her outward respectibility. I pulled my pajama pants out of my suitcase and donned them, walking into the bathroom as she finished polishing her appearance.

"Do you need a ride?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

I drove her back to the club. I can't remember what we talked about, but I do remember what she said as we got to her car:

"Thank you. This was really nice." She leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips. "I can't wait to read about me."

Wait no more.

Answering a request.

2005-12-20T15:16:00.000-05:00

I got this in my messenger:

IF YOU HAD ME ALONE... LOCKED UP IN YOUR ROOM FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS & I HAD TO DO WHAT EVER YOU WANTED ME TO, WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH ME? TELL ME IN MY INBOX... CUZ ITS A SECRET... THEN REPOST THIS IN YOUR BULLETIN... YOU MIGHT BE SUPRISED WITH THE RESPONSES YOU GET. THEY COULD MAKE YOU LAUGH OR EVEN SMILE .. LOL. IF YOU DONT REPOST THIS YOU ARE A COWARD AND IS TO AFRAID TO SEE WHO ACTUALLY LIKES YOU

So I figured, "What the hell?" Truth be told, I figure it's just a ploy to make sure that I am who I claim to be and that the name I chat under really corresponds to this blog. But either way, it seemed like fun, and I would enjoy stepping into myself for just a moment.

So here is my answer:

What would it be? it would first be a new outfit. For you, a teddy, black satin and lace only. no need for any further embellishments. After bringing a bucket of ice it would be a long, protracted of cold ice and warm tongue, waiting until you became impatient for more. The ice goes away, i lie on you, joining our bodies, and simply stay there, luxuriating in the feel of you. It is slow movements, long strokes, stretching the experience out, enjoying our bodies together. No worry about rushign for orgasm, simply radiating in the pleasure. There would be time for letting you on top, or facing different ways. But it would truly be a day about spending as much time with our bodies engaged as possible.

Renewal

2005-12-05T18:30:00.000-05:00

It is hard to really explain how this started, even though it is easy to tell where it went. Regardless, I was still fighting a maelstrom of internal conflict as I let my finger press the doorbell. The door opened to reveal Darren. He asked my name, and I heard a familiar voice call from the back, "Is that Ryan?" I answered for Darren. He was shorter than I expected, about 5'8". Normally Eve likes the taller guys when she is choosing lovers. As I that thought passed through my head, Eve came strolling in from the back of the house. Actually, I should clarify: The Newlywed Eve came strolling in. Which made the significance of meeting her at her lover's house a little clearer.

She had been married less than a month before she and Darren became involved. Never one to let an inconvenience like a relationship keep her from enjoying an opportunity, she had shortly flown back to "visit her family" and consummated on her promise to her friend that she made just before the wedding. Of course, this history was terribly unlike the chain of events that led to our brief, torrid relationship over ten years ago. We had remained friends since, and though we had not even seen each other since, the degree of familiarity we had had kept us close. But, even with all that, the fact that I walked into this house knowing as much about her as I did, and her relationship with Darren created some discomfort.
This promptly melted away as she reached up to hug me. Some say the years have been kind. In her case, they had practically French-kissed her and followed with hours of therapeutic massage. She was practically glowing, and had replaced her old looking of "outwardly chaste" with "casually sexy." The three of us walked back to his living room, where he sat in his armchair and Eve took a seat on the couch, leaving me only the spot to her left, which I took. After about twenty minutes of basic catching up, Darren left to answer the phone. Eve leaned forward. "I am sorry about your marriage," she said, putting a sympathetic hand on my thigh, and offering me an easy view down her button up shirt, showing a purple lace bra. One thing we had long established is that had a tremendous knack for turning me on. Granted, this isn't the hardest task. Of course, the triangle is an easy instrument to play, and that doesn't prevent some people from being better at it than others, does it?
I just smiled grimly and muttered whatever I mutter to people who express sympathy for something that they have no comprehension of. Darren came back in. "My mom needs me to pick up some stuff from Sam's for her. You guys okay here?" Before I could object, Eve was in with a "We're fine." Well then, I guess we are. As he closed the door, she scooted closer, "You're looking good." Now, I know the signs of trouble when I see them, and I unerringly go right for it. But this time, I was not going to fall into this trap. This was someone else's house, someone else's girl (twice!) and there was nowhere near the promise of enough time to get away with anything. Not to mention that by the look of things, he wanted me out as soon as possible because there were more calisthenics in the offing.
She reached across her body and put that hand on my thigh, looking intently at me, as she squared her shoulders to me. She was all but offering her body to me. We talked a bit about Darren, what she liked, what he did. We talked about her husband. Then she smiled at me and asked me something that I knew was going to seal my fate. "Do you remember what you told me my sexiest moment was?" I knew the answer to this question like I knew what color my car was. It was when we were in a school building, I was on a bench and she was standing over me, and I commented to her not to get used to being taller than me (since I have a foot of height on her) and her voice dropped a few notes as she said "Maybe I like being taller than you" and leaned in, pinning my head to the wall and kissed me, hard. Now, knowing this, and knowing where she was going with this, I had a choice, much in the same way I had a choice as to whether or not I had a burning erection right at that second. Essentially, there was no way I was going to choose the alternative. "Of course I remember."
She smiled and threw her left leg over me, straddling me, bringing her chest level with my face, her hands holding my cheeks as her hair spilled around her face. "I still like being taller than you." With that her hair lowered like a cage around my face and her lips touched mine. My mouth opened naturally, and a gulf of a decade vanished as I felt her tongue once again in my mouth. My hands were quickly rediscovering her body, feeling how high her velvet skirt had ridden, finding the new curves that her body had taken around the familiar landmarks. My hands were seconds from settling on the comfortable curves of her breasts that had so naturally filled my hands before when I heard a door close behind her. I froze and saw Darren, three feet away. My face flushed in horror. My weakness had finally burned me.
Eve sensed the tension and looked over her shoulder. I could see a smile across her face as she looked back at Darren. The look on his face became devoid of anger. She lifted he leg up and pulled off of my lap, revealing the painful lump in my jeans. Darren walked to her, and she turnedher face up as he leaned over and kissed her. I watching the line of her jaw, entranced as they kissed right in front of me. She took my hand and placed it on her breast without breaking their kiss. Suddenly my mind was flush with memories of her fantasies of being the focus of a group of men. At once, I both resented and admired her manipulation. My emotions were soon enough replaced by an awareness of her nipple pressing into my palm, demanding attention. Darren sat on the couch on Eve's other side as we both closed the distance between ourselves and her.
I began unbuttoning her shirt from the top, and Darren started from the bottom. Eve broke her kiss with Darren and turned back to me. This time, unafraid, I boldly kissed back, delighting in the marvelous feel of her mouth around my tongue. I felt the fabric of her shirt fall free, and we broke the kiss as Darren and I pushed the fabric off of her. The purple bra was a very open lace, and it showed her nipples clearly. Eve placed her hands on our faces, signaling us to freeze, and then reached back and unclasped the bra herself. She teased for a moment before lowering the lace and exposing herself to both of us. She then ran her hand through our hair and guided each of us to her breasts. She moaned as the two tongues captured both her nipples. I could sense her downward gaze as she admired the two men she had total command of, how the visual amplified the sensation of two mouth, two tongues, pleasuring exclusively her. Her legs splayed wide, riding her shirt up dangerously high. I slid my hand up her thigh to discover and pleasant absence of underwear. It was now that I was determined to show her my acquired skills.

I broke away from her breast, seeing Darren's hand replaced my mouth, as I feel to my knees in front of her. My hands held her legs apart and then slid up to gently press against her flesh, exposing her to my tongue. I snaked my tongue out to touch her, and I heard her muffled moan. I gazed upward to see Darren kissing her, his hands caressing Eve's breasts tenderly. I drew the tip of my tongue upwards, teasing her, spreading more wetness around. Her hands were pulling Darren's shirt up, and their kissing continued, passionately and slowly. I ran my tongue around the edges of her mound, along the creases of her thighs, testing the edges of the sweet folds of flesh before me, before I slowly pressed it against her, softly entering her. the tongue curled through her liquid darkness, emerging and sliding upward, finding the epicenter of burning fire. My eyes looked up to see Darren softly massaging her nipples as she was pulling his pants down, her mouth open with anticipation. As her tongue began to roll around his flushed erection, I matched the motions with my own tongue on her body. Quickly she felt the connection between her motions and mine. She lifted up and teasing flicked her tongue under the mushroom head. I dropped my head and curled my tongue under, darting up and down, just barely brushing her flesh. Her mouth opened wide and dropped onto him, and I open mine, pressing my lips to her, and sucking on her flesh softly, while driving my tongue against her as I hooked my free arm under her leg to cup her breast, as Darren lovingly caressed her other breast. Her free hand fell into my hair, pushing me against her as she crossed her ankles and pressed them into my back. As I began to increase my pace she pulled me off of her body, and lifted her mouth free of Darren.

With two fingers under my chin, she bid me to stand and take Darren's place on the opposite side. I crossed my arms and lifted my shift off as I did. She pulled my jeans open and they fell away from my body. She pulled the front of underwear down and revealed my body in its throbbing entirety. Her mouth open and she took me in, deeply, showing me her newly acquired talent. As she did this, Darren had slid himself into her. She leaned back, pulling me onto the couch with her as she bobbed her head, taking the longest, slowest motions she could, paralleling Darren's hips against her body. I could hear her gasping and moaning between motions as Darren continued to gently love her body, warming touching her all over. Suddenly, I felt Eve get tense. I saw Darren gasping as he pulled himself free. Eve took me out of her mouth and looked at Darren. "It's okay baby." She then pushed me down on the couch and stood, pushing her skirt off, and straddled me again. With a hand she pointed me upright and sank on to me.

My eyes opened looking right into hers. Through all the years, I recognized the flash I saw there. My hands fell to her bottom, clenching her flesh hard. She groaned and jammed her hips against me, violently impaling herself. I responded by thrusting hard against her, almost painfully striking our hips together. She screamed, hard and low. The gentleness evaporated, revealing a possessive violence. I jerked her upward, then down. Our bodies began pounding away violently at each other. Her screams became louder, her hair flew. All I could hear was her voice, both commanding and pleading. "f-f-f-fuck....yes...oh YES" It was brutal and pornographic. My nails dug sharply into her bottom. "YES, HARDER" We had fallen into our old ways so quickly, but with so much more skill. I grabbed her neck and pushed her backwards, forcing her to lean on my knees, arching supine. Her body was trying to keep an impossible arc as I attacked her from below.

Without warning, I returned my hands to her hips, grabbing two handfuls and yanking her off, throwing her tiny lithe body face down on the couch. I grabbed her hips again and pulled her sharply onto me. She screeched with delight at being taken from behind. The shock on Darren's face melted as she grabbed his leg by the thigh and yanked him toward her. He slid along the couch as she extended her tongue, letting run over his re-awakening length as her body moved violently back and forth over me. Her body was rippling below me from the successive impacts. I felt the sharp contraction of her muscles as she froze, prolonging the moment at the precipice. As I felt her grip start to weaken I spanked her fiercely and rammed myself against her, though I was already deeply engaged. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" She screamed as the earthquakes started exploding across her body. Her face was buried in Darren's crotch as she screamed, louder and louder. I could see the awe on his face as this explosive orgasm was new to him.

Eve pulled herself off of me, clumsily crawling onto Darren, who obediently pointed himself upward for her to sit on. She carefully turned to face away from him before she settled wetly on him. Exhausted, but helplessly aroused, she opened her mouth and pulled me in, taking me down her throat. She tried clumsily to work her head up and down but I pulled her off, and obligingly ran my own hand up and down the shaft, quickly pushing myself the rest of the way towards orgasm. She lazily ground onto Darren, who smoothly countered her motions, amplifying them. Her exhausted body accepted the pleasure, even as her command of her own motions was failing her. She held me by the tip, directing me down to her chest as I finally felt myself start to release in white jets. She cooed softly as the fluid landed on the swells of her breasts, striking her nipples. I sat back on the couch and watched she leaned backwards, Darren’s hands holding her shoulders as he rocked her back and forth on him, her wet, exhausted body rippling into orgasms, one after another, her breaths raggedly imploring him to continue as her self control melted away. Finally, she collapsed on him, pulling him free of her.

He rolled her on her side onto the couch, letting her face the cushions as she weakly protested, not wanting to be abandoned. He wordless pointed at my clothes and I nodded, quickly dressing myself. I stepped over to the bathroom to neaten my appearance then came back to find Eve possessed of a little of her strength. I sat next to her, rolling her on her back as her hand came to my face. "Thank you." My only reply was to kiss her a last time before I stood and left. I stopped at the door, took one final look at her nude form, laying out on the couch, arms flayed away, before I closed the door and walked out of her life for another ten years.

Video Gaming Frustrations

2005-12-03T10:29:00.000-05:00

This is by far the longest story I have ever written, not to mention the least flattering of me. But to do it any shorter or any differently would be dishonest, and sell it short. Feel free to skip this to some faster reading if you want, but I will say I am proud of what I have written here.

She nearly ran over me as we walked into the massive electronics store. There, I listened standing behind her as she got the same bad news everyone else all over town was giving: "We are sold out." She was obviously shopping for her child(ren). Of course, I was shopping for myself, but what I was shopping before became very different. She was wearing a nice red sweater, showing off her curves beautifully. The v-neck revealed just a little white bra strap, very pleasing to the eye. A nice pair of jeans that was tight in the right places beautifully complemented her figure. I guessed she was about early-to-mid-30's, as her hair was dyed to look natural, and brushed straight, and her skin was nothing short of sensational. All-in-all, though a very attractive package. I stood just a hair close to her as she talked to the salesman, asked a couple of questions myself and walked outside just pacing myself a bit. Sure enough she
walked out behind me, extremely frustrated.

"I'm heading to the mall, do you know if they have any there?" Now, to tell the truth, I did know, and I knew the answer was not only NO, but HELL NO. But then, I was trying to get some video game box any more.

"Not off the top of my head, but I'd bet against it." Can't seem totally dishonest here, can I?

"Well, that's where I'm heading." Bingo, invitation. Misery loves company and all that.

"Okay, I'll follow you there." She popped into her SUV (Infiniti, of course) and I trailed it right along, formulating my plan. Needless to say, the fifty-fifty I was on going to work today was now a zero-one hundred. I had something else to do. We get to the mall, and I have to park a few spaces away. She is walking briskly in, and I overtake her in a light jog.

"Hey, I'm Dave."

"Sharon." Naturally.

"Who's it for?"

"My youngest son."

"How old?"

"Fourteen."

"Why isn't his dad helping?"

"His dad had to open the stores." Now I am getting a nice complete picture in my head. Still married to the father of her kids, started young, very well off, and has lots of spare time today. Practically has a bullseye on her. We get to the store in the mall, and, lo and behold, their inventory was completely exhausted before it went on sale. She is visibly frustrated. Now I am making eye contact, but avoiding any physical contact. I let myself get caught looking at the V of her neckline once.

"Where else have you been?" I ask. As she names off the stores I cross them off in the map in my head. When she asks me, I name off the rest of the stores in the region, with a little bit of overlap. I see her shoulders slack a bit. I place a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, establishing that first physical contact. She stares over my shoulder as she starts to describe how angry she is about letting her children down. As she starts to bottom out, it's time to brighten her day (and ultimately mine) a little.

I suggest that a nice lunch might make her feel better. Seeing as how there is no place left to look, you might as well, right? She agrees, and we go off. Surprisingly, the food court passed as nice lunch for her. Conversation moves quickly. I listen a lot, keep her eye contact, and avoid leering at her, and strangely our seats get closer and closer around the corner. After a few
shoulder touches I get a hand to rest on her thigh with no objections. Well, everyone's intentions are now clear, so I get to ask what she is doing the rest of the day, since her previous engagements are off. With a miscellaneous "clean up the house," and a twinkle in her eye, I chivalrously offer my assistance, which she is more than happy to have.

Again I follow her, parking in the three-car garage. As she gets out of her car, I walk to her, placing a hand on her hip. She looks up at me. I lower my head and our lips meet, hers swiftly parting. My tongue slips out to meet hers as her head turns and our faces come closer together to let our tongues caress each other more fully. My hands rove over her back, sliding lower, gently grazing the smooth curve of her bottom. I press her hips against mine, where I can feel
myself already raging against the fabric of my khakis. I step into her, forcing her back against the wall. My hands rise, lifting the red cashmere upward. She smiles against my lips as she breaks the kiss and raises her arms so I can lift it off. I get the material to her wrists, and the image below is exquisite. Her basic white bra has a scalloped lace edge, and it is pulling her soft breasts upward. I hold the sweater at her wrists, trapping her arms upward, my free hand
rising up to cup her breast from below as I start kissing her again. I hear her moan softly against my lips and arch her hips into me. I hold her wrists high, and squeeze her breast, getting a feel for its marvelous softness, admiring the bud of her nipple poking through the fabric. I then run the hand down over the front of her jeans, feel the warmth firing out from between her legs. She lifts one leg and wraps it around me, pulling me in tighter as I lift the sweater off completely and her arms fall around my neck, pulling my head in and her lips go to my ear.

"Let's go some place more comfortable." I step back an she takes my hand, leading my up though a very nice house I barely notice to a lavish bedroom. The imposing four-poster bed is made of dark, knurled wood. She leans back against the post, raising her arms to guide me in to kissing her again. As we kiss, her hands fall to my belt. She starts to tug at it, then slides down to her knees. The two straps of leather frame her face as she bulls the belt partly off and works my khakis open. They fall to my shoes as she then tugs my shorts down. I pull off my shirt as I feel her cool hands gracefully wrap her fingers, one by one, around the shaft. My vision blurs as her runs around and around my throbbing organ. I look down at her, see her mouth slowly open, her tongue extending, and her drop onto me. Her lips wrap around, her cheeks collapse and I can feel myself losing control almost instantly. The back of her throat bumps against the tip and she starts working up and down. Before I fully realize the intensity of the moment, I can feel myself pumping, firing hot jets into her mouth. She holds the tip barely inside her mouth, letting the fluid arc inside. As the last rush finishes, I feel her tongue working under my shaft, squeezing every drop out of me. She smiles.

"Let me get something a little sexier on." I look down and notice that I have a crushed pair shorts on a crushed pair of khakis bunched on my still-on socks and shoes, with a belt half-fed through there. And while I find her white bra and perfect jeans absolutely sexy, I can tell she is thinking of something spectacular. Not to mention I could use a few minutes to recover. She steps into her closet, while I quickly dispense of my clothes and step over to the bathroom
and freshen up. I am just done cleaning up in the bathroom when I hear her voice.

"Over here." I turn to an absolute vision of satin and lace, red and black, corset and stockings, thongs and straps. My mind is racing as I quickly step toward her, naked as a jay, blood thundering through my body. She has donned a black satin corset with red lace trim, matching thong, and black stockings. A wispy black scarf is around her shoulders. I have barely catalogued this in my head, trying to remember this picture, before I have both hands under her hips, lifting her up, her legs wrapping around me, the brilliantly intense heat of her body permeating the thin illusion of sating covering her most intimate areas pressed tight against my resurgent manhood. We are kissing, she is holding my face to hers, I am carrying her to bed. I press her down to the mattress, my hands running over the heavy satin entrapping her body, her legs locked behind my back, her arms racing up and down my back. I pull the scarf away, and force her wrists over her head, which she happily complies with. Trying to remember my best boy scouting knots, I loop around each of her wrists, drawing them together, then knotting above them. I take the long tail of the scarf and tie it to the massive bedpost, as Sharon turns herself along the diagonal of the bed. Now, having secured her wrists and her compliance, I take a deep breath and turn back to her.

I lower my face to hers slowly, and her lips part happily, her tongue bursting into my mouth. I carefully open the clips on her stockings as our kiss moves from passionate to furious. Unwilling to break contact, I start unclasping her corset in the tight space between our bodies. Finally, she bursts out her satin prison, and now the valleys below are too tempting. I break the kiss and begins brush my lips down her neck, along the nape, almost to her shoulder. My hands caress her breasts softly, circles the outermost edges, avoiding her nipples. As my hands trace along the outside edges of her body, teasing the edges of her thong, my lips hover above her nipple, my breath wafting onto her body. I seem her shiver a little with each blanket of warm moist air. I slowly open my mouth, breathing out so she is aware of my movements. My tongue slowly extended. I can hear her almost panting in anticipation. My tongue touches her just beyond the areola. I turn my head and circle it slowly, just teasing the edge. I circle again, this time on the darker skin. She moans. I flick the tight, almost diamond-hard bud of her nipple. She moans again. I press the tip of my tongue next to the warm tip, standing high, demanding attention, and circle my tongue round, keeping the tip on the edge and letting the sides of my tongue caress her nipple. She exhales, moaning loudly. My hands continue to trace the outside of her thigh as I whirl my tongue a little more before pressing my lips against her and sucking her soft flesh gently into my mouth, where my tongue teases it further. She starts to squirm a bit between her moans so I turn my attention to her other breast. Instead of a slow tease, I capture in my mouth immediately, and also letting my hand rub her through the wet satin between her legs at the same time. "Oh yes..." she moans as her hips arch against my hand. I am almost
pushing the material inside her as I rub her intently. Her moaning is becoming more constant now.

I release her breast from my mouth and begin tracing a path down her body with my tongue, teasing the edge of her ribs, her navel, and the bones of her hips. My hand leaves the hot valley it had been busy working in and runs to the small bow knot on either side of her hips. Two gentle tugs and her thong is open. I peel the fabric slowly from her body, exposing her neatly trimmed sex. I lower my head to her. My tongue reaches to the very center of her wetness, touching her, tasting her, and curling up, searching for that button. My tongue neatly finds it, and she nearly screams, arching against the scarf that binds her. Quickly I accelerate my tongue's motion, and her moans turn to outright screams, incoherent sounds of pleasure. She is thrashing around me, trying to keep her hips planted, not wanting to interrupt the waves of ecstasy crashing into her body. Suddenly the moans and movement explode into a frenzy of spasms, and her voice cracks, the screams vanishing. I press my lips to her body and lick extra furiously, refusing to let her off this peak. Finally her voice finds her again and she crashes to the bed beneath me.

I slide up to her face, turning her hair away from her flushed face. Her eyes are closed, her breathing is still ragged. I kiss her cheek softly. Her face whips around and her open mouth clamps on mine. Her hips shift below me to allow her legs to wrap around me. Without a word I take my hand and guide myself in. I slowly grind into her, working my deeper and deeper, letting her wetness cover me as our bodies join for the first time. Her head aches back and her teeth clench and I feel her muscle contract tightly around me. I continue with my grinding motion, keeping myself deeply engaged in her. Finally a word escapes her mouth. "More." I start to pull my hips out a little before thrusting in. Another moan and "More!" I pull farther, and crash into her. "YES!" I pull out again letting just the mushroom tip stay inside, keeping that contact before driving home again. "YES!" The screams become increasingly literate. My memories blur. I work harder and harder. The universe compresses to the inches our bodies are joined and her loud, desperate screams. Over and over. Her nails dig abruptly into my back, I arch, plunging my full depth into her and exploding. Her muscles are pumping me, trying to draw me in further. As we lie together, bathed in our mutual heat, I become aware of her scarf draped over my shoulder. As my vision starts to focus again, I can see the crease from where there was once a knot.

Her wrists are still bound together as she holds me close. I feel her push, and roll over, and she stays on me, rolling on top. She rocks a bit from each side as she gathers her legs under her, but still keeps me inside her, refusing to let me melt away. She pointedly holds her wrists over my face and I obligingly untie her. Her hands splay flat on my chest as she playfully clenches her
muscles on me, watching me twitch beneath her. My hands cradle her breasts gently, cupping them. She smiles at me, lost for words but expressing more with a simple, satisfied grin then any sentence could convey. I see her eyes fall to the nightstand, and her face falling. I know this look. Time has put an end to our tryst.

"You have to go. I need to clean up before my husband gets home." The saddest words of my day. She dismounts and dons a robe before turning her shower on. She pulls my face to hers for one last kiss. There are no words for this moment, as I go to don my clothes. I take a final, longing look at her body as steps out of her robe into her shower, and then walk down to my car. I stop at the end of her driveway, look at her house a final time as I complete the memory, then drive off, forever.

My Lucky Day

2005-01-21T16:58:00.000-05:00

Cathy and I had known each other for months. We met in passing a lot, talked on the phone some. It was obvious from the first time we met that was an intense sexual attraction between us. It was just a matter of time. Trouble was between my having two jobs and her running her own buisness, time was not something either of us could spare.

But today was not one of those days, like we had been having for months on end. Today I was on her doorstep, my finger now touching her doorbell. The door opened with a soft swoosh, and she stood barefoot in a sheer gown before me. I stepped in, kissing her, but she kept her lips together, not letting it go farther. She took my hand and led me inside. "I want to show you my house." So we went to the kitchen. As she stopped to show me the breakfast nook, I stood close behind her, looking down her gown at the tempting shadows belows. She bounced her hips against me a bit before leading me to the living room, taking pains to avoid being to close to anything we could lie on, but still i stood behind her again, this time kissing her neck, which she allowed, before leading me to her office. This time I kissed her ear, tracing the edge with my tognue. She signed happily, her hand reaching back to my jeans, fondly squeezing the bulge in them.

Now she led me to her bedroom. I stood behind her again, my hands on her belly, rising to her breasts. I cupped them as she leaned back into me, letting me freely touch and kiss her. Her head turned and our lips met again, this time parted wide, our tongue eagerly touching each other as my fingers encircled her nipples, squeezing them fondly. She moaned softly as she turned and sat on the edge of her bed, one hand pulling my face dow nto hers, the other hooking over the waist of my jeans. As we kissed, her hands began expertly working them open, them pushing them down. I broke the kiss as I reached for my shirttail, pulling my shirt over my head as I watched her hand reach into my shorts, grasp my hot, throbbing erection, and pull it out of my shorts. It bounces a little with my pulse as she approaches it with her tongue spalyed out, and mouth open. it comes to rest on her tongue and she uses it to guide the length into her mouth. I sigh and run my hand fondly through her hair as her lips close and she begins sucking. Her tongue twirls around her mouth, creating intense waves of sensation throughout. Her head bobs quickly, driving around on me. Her eyes look up at me, and she moans deeply, the vibration teasing me further. Her head pulls back, just leaving the tip between her lips as she flashes me an eager smiles and then begins working her head up and down hard and fast, her hands scratching down on either side of my hips. The sensations are too intense to resist, and I quickly find myself exploding in to her mouth. I see her head pull back as she emphatically swallows every drop, her tongue licking the opening, working every bit out.

Finally she releases me, and I feel the blood return to the ret of my body. I stand her up, untying her shoulder straps. She quickly shrugs out of her gown and I push her back down, fully onto the bed, lying on to pof her. I quickly kiss my way down her shoulders, focusing intently on her breasts and nipples, licking them, kissing them, sucking them a bit and teasingly dragging my teeth across the erect buds. Her moans becoming tense, i start to go lower, licking...dragging my tongue along her ribs, down her belly, across her navel, across her hips, where her panties once were. I nuzzle along the creases of her thighs. Her legs rise on either side of my head, revealing her hot treasure to me. I kiss just to the right, in the crease, then the left, brushing my lips across her waiting flesh as I cross over. I open my mouth slowly, my hot breath hitting her, as I splay my tongue out and finally press the full surface to her body before making a point and dragging it up her slit, finding the sensitive bud at the top, which I tease with a flick of the tongue. I hear the anticpation in her body relase as a deep, smooth moan. I push my face against her body, trapping her flesh under my mouth as my tongue begins a violent, lashing dance, leaving the teasing behind, attacking her, driving her body rapidly through the sexual stratosphere of sensation. Her hands seize my head, holding it against her as I continue to work faster and faster. Her incoherent moans quickly turn into delighted cries and insistent demands with which I am only delighted to comply. I feel her muscles suddenly seize and a rush of fluid from her body as she peaks hard. Her whole body is shivering from sensory assault, nerves exploding all over. She pulls my hair, guiding me to face her, which I do, kissing her as I roll off to the side.

Her kisses are insistent and demanding. Her appetite now whetted, her hand quickly reaches down and finds my erection has returned, she squeezes it hard in her hand as she pushes me flat on my back, swinging a leg over. She point it up at her as she lowers her hips onto me, impaling herself. She looks at me and moans with satisfaction, and sound matched by my own delight at discovered her smooth flesh stretched tightly around me. Her arms lock straight out as her hands press against my chest, bracing her while she begins working her hips up and down. My hands land on her hips squeezing and spanking as her motions become bigger and faster. Her body starts colliding with mine, working feverishly. I start to roll my hips under her, the new sensations hearly blinding me. I am only faintly aware that we are screaming now, but I can feel the spasms of her muscles rippling through along my deeply embedded organ. Her head is rocking back and forth, throwing her hair around. Our sex has become wild, free. We have surrendered control to our bodies in their reckless pursuit of pleasure. Finally, I begin to feel the first liquid evidence of my orgasm escaping in an electric storm in my body. Slowly, the clouds clear from my vision and I am aware of Cathy, her hips ground deeply into me, holding as much length inside her as possible as her bodies is nearly convulsing from the piled orgasms ripping through her. Slowly I become more aware of the world around me. Her wetness is all over my hips, her thighs, the sheets, leaving a tremendous mess. I finally see her body start to settle into normalcy as she weakly rolls to the side, releasing my softening flesh into the air, which feels cool in spite of the radiating heat. We are both breathing hard. I will need a shower, but there is no need for me to take it alone, I suppose...

The Poker Tournament

2004-12-20T13:47:00.000-05:00

It's been a long day, almost nine hours. I have spent most of my time at Sandy's table. True to her name, a blonde, with short hair and a bit bigger build. Not a model, but still very attractive. I've been playing for hours and spendign a lot of time staring people down. I spent a LOT of time noticing her mostly unbuttoned shirt showing just a hint of red lace. After about three hours of more-than-just-polite smiles, I have decided that I will have to see everything that that wisp of scarlet is teasing about.

As we are approaching the end, I get up and walk around to stretch my legs a bit. As I walk behind Sandy, I see her lean forwad to pull soem chips in and I get another glimpse of scarlet, this time her thong. Well, consider this deal sealed, because there is no way I will let her go without seeing all of this. After about another forty minutes, the show's over (no, I didn't win) and everyone is cleaning up. I decide to stay and help out, talking to her as we box up all the chips and cards. After getting everything put away, she tells the director she'll see him next time and he scats. Suddenly, we are alone on a sea of felt tables. She turns to me, perhaps to wish me good luck next time and be on her way, but we are way past that. The look on my face as soon as we make eye contact, makes that clear to her. I see her look around quickly to ensure we are alone. Her arms go up over my shoudlers and I start working on her buttons as we begin kissing.

I push her back to a table, which she sits up on as I tear her shirt open. My hands are under the lace cups of the bra in a flash as our tongues meet in the space between our lips, teasing before she pulls my face to hers, engaging our lips fully, our tongue playfully enjoying the shared space in our mouths. I am teasing her nipple to hardness, then sucking it, holding the stra of her bra dow nas she shrugs her shirt off. I pull the strap back up as I go to kissing her again while I look for the zip on her skirt. In no time she is scooting out of her skirt. I back off and take in teh sight of her clad only in two wisps of red lace, splayed before me on the green felt of the table. I meet her gaze and grab my shirt, yanking it over my head. I am unsnapping my jeans as I walk to the table, stepping out of my shoes. I pull her hips to the edge of the table, letting her legs lie over my shoudlers as I tug the few threads of fabric to the side and lower my face to the intense ray of humidity coming form ehr center.

My tongue raches out, delicately testing her wetness, then curling up, softly parting the folds of her flesh until I find her clit, throbbing, then flick upwards with my tongue. She moans in approval as I then start rubbing it around in soft circles, just keeping contact with my tongue. Her breathing starts to pick up, and the moans become sincere. I drops my mouth onto her and drive the intesnity way up as my tongue starts pushing around her flesh, dipping into her a little before coming back out to forcefully stroke her clit. She is screaming now, her hand in my hair holding my head down. I feel her legs kick up and her head fall back as I see the spasms across her belly. I quickly rise up, pushing my shorts down, keeping her legs on my shoudlers. In a flash, I have pushed myself inside her. I can see now she has pushed her bra down her chest, and she is squeezing her breasts. I replace her hands with mine as she grabs my arms, willing me deeper. I am all too happy to comply giving all of the inches I can. The table is creaking beneath the load but we are hopelessly continuing. I see her legs kick over and over, as each new explosion wracks her body. Suddenly I see her bite her lip as I feel every muscle in her body clamp down of me. My eyes roll back as I fire one more thrust in before succumbing to the intensity, hot jets bursting deep into her body. I feel her muscles start to find a pace, milking me, pulling me in. I am groaning each time I feel her squeeze against my unyielding erection. Finally, my legs give out and I fall to the floor. She stays on the table, panting.

The next week, when I play, I see there is still a stain on that table. I sit down behind it and smile at a blushing Sandy. There are plenty of tables to work on...

The Highest Fruit

2004-12-08T16:15:00.000-05:00

I knock on the door to see it swing open almost on the first sound. Cathy is there looking up at me. Her dark hair blending with the dark wisps of fabric alluring covering her body. I know finally who this is. The beauty that I hold only known the phosphorescent ghosts of her thoughts on the computer screen is now before me, eager for my touch. I am barely across the threshhold when her hand is behind my head, pulling me down to her. Our mouths meet wide open, our tongues eager to discover each other. My hands run through her silky heavy hair. She is moaning at my touch. Her nails drag down my shirt to my jeans as she breaks the kiss, then tugs me into the next room by my waistband. Her bedroom.

I sigh happily as I feel her hands work my pants open, peeling them down as she kneels before me to accept my erection in her mouth. It bounces slightly with each beat of my heart, my blood racing now as I feel her warm, soft, wet mouth envelope me, and her lungs creating the pressure for the most marvelous of sensations. I take her head in my hand and guide her up and down, as she scratches her nails down my belly, along my hips, to my thighs.

I blink as I look around at the students staring blankly at the teacher. I resume taking notes as my fantasy is becoming reality...for someone else. He is on top of her now, his face buried in her womanly flesh. His tongue is lashing through her body, teasing her most sensitive areas and testing her depths, all in gallant motions. I know she is moaning now. She is calling him names, talking dirty to him. I can even hear her calling herself a slut, giving it up for her daddy. She is on her side, her leg raised high, as her attacks her relentlessly from the side. He is exploding inside of her, only using that as a cause to find a new position behind her. He continues to thrust away now, his hands on her shoulders, yanking her down onto him. She is loudly and submissively begging for more. She has given herself up to the pleasure. I cannot see this, but I know it is happening. I am a witness all the same. I can feel her moaning, and her filthy words egging him on. She is being used as so happily so. Her muscles are clamping down on him exquistely, heightening his pleasure. His eyes roll as his hips go crazy, pounding away at her, working faster than his muscles can sustain, hoping that her skilled clenches can bring them both to the dizzying orbit before his body gives out. And they succeed, him moaning incoherenly, her telling him in a scream how good he is, and how good he feels.

He's spanking her now. Loudly. She is almost screaming out of pleasure. Right then, right at that moment, as I am preparing to take over the class, I know he is there. He is on top of her as I walk to the front of the room. Her legs are wrapped around him, willing him deeper, and he is happily obliging as I first begin the lesson. Their bodies are loudly slapping together as he continues to mount a furious pace. Her talk veers into the deeply pornographic, almost desperately demanding more from his body. He throws himself into her. It is my fantasy. It is his reality.

She was always there for me, but just out of my reach. Her wonderful world of sensuality and exploration. I could never grab it, never have it. I am teaching the basics of science, and he is mastering the wonders of eroticism. I feel the world I want being had by others. I look around the room. I see in their faces the knowledge which I am so painfully without. I feel the ascence of their feelings on me.

She's bent over a chair. Her arms are on the table, clenching it madly. Her body is exploding with spasms. He tiredly reaches his climax again within her. Finally, he collapses on her, and they both fall to the floor, their bodies still engaged in each other's heat. The virtual torrent of sexual energy from my jealous thoughts having propelled them to new heights, they giggle as they play with each other's bodies.

And I return home, to a cool bed, and restless dreams.

Pinballing

2004-12-08T11:01:00.000-05:00

I am at my gig last night. There's a blonde Jodie Foster-looking woman, in a slightly frumpying looking dress. Her hair is long and it spills over one eye enticingly. she looks up at me with a smile. She is leaning down to kiss me, our lips parting as soon as they meet, our tongues snaking by each other, her hand cupping the throbbing bulge in my jeans. I blink as her friend in the backwards-turned baseball cap nudges her and me back to reality. She is cute, too, but I can stay in the real world looking at her.

I get up to walk across the room and there she is. Short hair with dyed blonde streaks, in a pink lace cami. I decide she is named Keri. She is carressing the face of her girlfriend next to her playfully. The world shifts and suddenly it is less playful and more serious. Their faces are drawn together, they kiss. I feel myself get bumped from behind and get back to work.

Minutes later I am sitting. I look across the room and see Keri fishign a box of cigarettes out of her purse, giving me a clear view of her soft round cleavage. My eyes flutter. I can see her looking down, her hands struggling with the stubborn fabric of my jeans as she pulls them off. Her hand pulls my tall erection free and her face lowers on it, her lips sliding over the shaft, wetting it. I close my eyes, drinkign in the world of sensation she is creating.

I am back in reality, directing people inside, controlling traffic. I see a regular, stretching her arms over her head, her shirttail rising above the waist of her jeans, exposing her flat, pale belly. My hands automatically hook under her shirt, lifting it off. As the sweater clears her face she is kissing me again, running her hands under my shirt, relishing the warm smooth feel of another person's skin. My hands slide under her skirt, lifting it, feeling the laserlike heat from her body.

Keri nudges me, asking for alight. I grab a lighter off the bar, and help her out. The flame gently flickers a warm orange glow on her face. The glow is echoed by the five candles in the room as she lies back on the red satin sheets, naked, and basking in the warmth of her body after teh instense electricity of the orgasm. I am idly stroking her, running my hands along her ribs, the soft curves of her breasts, the gentle swooping lines of her hips, and she drags intently on teh cigarette.

The puff of smoke hits me in the face, sending me into coughs. I sit down ,and take stock. I am careening all over the place. I have to focus. But focus never finds me tonight.

It's back

2004-12-07T13:39:00.000-05:00

My laptop died. I got a new one. As I am going through my list of "things I have been away from online" I get to this blog. Part of me wants to immediately jump back on and start posting. But there is this other part of me. The part that feels guilty from siphoning this energy out of my marraige. The part that wants to be good. He won. For a while.

It was Thursday night. I was doing a gig at one of the video arcade/playground for grownups around town. It was late and the gig was over, and there was this shorthaired brunette at the bar. We had made smiling eye contact earlier, but I was working, and moved on. Well, now I was packed up and just checking to make sur I hadn't left anything and she was still there. We started talking and I soon realized she was VERY drunk, and energetically hitting on me. Without even a second passing I had it all mapped out.

"I know I've had too much to drink."

"No kidding. You're going to need a ride home."

"Yeah do you have a car?"

In the real world, I did have a car, but I had to get home so I could get to work the next day, but here my mind diverged. A drunk college girl, one of the easiest fucks on Earth. I would give her a ride home. We would be making out before the car started, quickly getting to her place. More tongue action in the car once we got there, fogging the windows. I would get my first feel of her breasts under her shirts, maybe even a few licks between the tightly streched cloth of her shirt and the crumpled silk of her bra. She might even started sucking me off a little.

She would fumble through her keychain, figure out which key opened her apartment, and I would have her shirt off before she hit the couch. When her hands got my khakis open, I would pick her up, and carry her to bed, her legs wrapped around me as my pants fall to the floor. I would lie her on bed, her hips at the end, and peel her jeans and red thong off. My tongue reaches out for her, tasting her flesh briefly, then beginning the lightest, fastest dance I could manage, teasing. Suddenly I would push my head in, switching to powerful, orgasm-inducing moves. As her body started shaking I would rise up, and guide myself into her. I would keep thrusting as her body undulated in waves below me.

Then I would get up, leave her to pass out on the bed, reassemble my clothes, neaten up my hair, and stop by McDonald's on the way home. A convenient accident with my drink, and all the telltale scents are covered, and I can sleep happy.

I am what I am. And What I Am is now simple: I Am Back.

The Library

2004-10-22T12:51:00.000-04:00

The library at this school is enormous. Two wings, one of them seven stories tall. It is in this latter wing that I am evading the daylight. I have spent most of the day constructing a massive tower of books in a vain search for a forty year old research paper. I open the door to my study booth, a small phone booth-like area that provides students (like I used to be) and masochists (like me now) the opportunity to seclude themselves and focus on their studies. As my eyes adjust to the marginally brighter light in the stacks and the occasionally dazzling light of a well-hidden window I find the row in the maze of rows of books that I have been steadily raiding over the course of the day. Making my way down I see someone short looking through a shelf I have been depleting.

"Which one are you looking for?" I ask

"Smith and Chen." The person turns to reveal a soft feminine face, framed by dark wet hair pulled back. I wonder if she had just showered.

"I have it right now, but you can borrow it as long as you promise not to bring it back." She smiles and agrees and I quickly check out her attire: White tee shirt, maybe a size too big, flannel pants. She probably did just shower, probably working on her thesis. I am guessing she's about 24. I look at her eyes and she that she is also starved for human contact. Well, let's help each other.

"I have the booth over there." I lead her back and we start quietly talking as we make out way through the labyrinth. As we are talking I feel myself becoming excited at more than just pleasant conversation. I make a lot of eyes contact, smiling involuntarily. There is electricity. I step into the booth and start working through the castle of texts, I look back at her and see her breathing a little heavily. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I take her hand in mine and pull her closer, mostly in the booth. After a brief moment of realization, her hand quickly go up above my shoulders and her mouth opens as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss me. Our tongue meet, flat to flat, as we fall backwards in. I reach behind her and close the door, turning on the dim lit in these tight confines. Our kissing slows a bit as our tongues reach out, feeling each other. Our hands continue in this spirit and she slide her hands under my shirt, running her flat palms over my chest. I set her on her knees on the chair, which makes our faces a little more even and the booth feel a little less cramped. My own hands are under her shirt, working to maneuver her bra away from her large breasts. She smiles against my lips.

"I know. A little over-endowed. Forgive me?" She is almost laughing at the joy of the being touched, a sentiment I strongly share. We resume kissing in a more relaxed pace, realizing that what we lack in space we can make up for in time. She sits back on the desk and pushes my hands down, then pulls her shirt off. She fondles her breasts for a second, smiling at me coyly. I start to move my own hands to hers and she pushes them away with a smile. She turns, putting her knees on the desk and shows me as her hand reaches back, opening her bra clasp. I watch her sharp gaze over her shoulder as she pushes each strap off her shoulder. As the bra falls away, step up behind her, pulling my shirt off and forcing the chair under the desk so I can feel her back against my chest. I bring my head to the nape of her neck, trailing kisses. She sinks on her knees to a better height as my hands race up from her belly the cradle her breasts as they overfill my big hands. She sighs and runs a hand through my hair, letting me tease her neck and her ears while my hands enjoy the warm, soft weight of her breasts.

Quickly our passion demands more than the light, pleasant sensations we are creating now. She turns around, hanging her legs off the desk over the chair as she straightens her back between the towers of books, scooting her pajama pants off, and taking her panties with them. I try to kneel in front of her, hoping to show her what I do best, but the space of the booth does not allow me to get low enough on the desk. She pulls my face up to hers, then reaches down for the hot eager shaft waiting for her. The chair is in the way now, and we dare not open the booth to push it out. I pull the chair back and climb over sitting in it. She pivots and faces away from me, reaching under her for the shaft bouncing slightly with each throb and pointing it to her. Her hips settle on me. I hear her sigh as she FINALLY gets to feel me in side her . She leans back, pressing her back against my chest as my hands reach around for her breasts. Another sigh and she begins lifting up and down on me. Helpless against the chair, I submit to the small lithe body on me as she works fast on me, quietly driving herself. I can feel her rising excitement in the heaviness of her breath. She leans forward, and I feel her muscles clamp down. She makes one long slow lift, then shoves herself back down, driving herself into the tightest grip of her muscle. Her body explodes into shivers and spasms, the wild motions setting off a reaction in me and I feel hot long jets of ecstasy explode into her. I feel long, long spurts deep inside. She shivers with delight at the hot rush within her. Quickly after lifting off, she grabs her panties and pulls the on, controlling the mess we are sure to leave. As she gathers her clothes, I slip my card in the book.

I hand the book to her, as she stands outside the booth, my daydream shattered. I hand the book, sans card, she takes it wit ha smile. There's a brief pause, and awkward thankful smile and she turns and walks away. I watch her walk...wondering. I slump back into the chair and find a book I am not interested in that I have already read, and leaf through as I shake the vivid thoughts away.

The Bartender

2004-10-20T14:16:00.000-04:00

Sam's young, say 22 or so and pretty fit. She reaches
up to tie her light brown hair back into a ponytail
and her shirt rides up revealing a teddy bear tattoo
on her belly, just left of her navel.

She's lying on my bed, her hands above her head, bound
by a carefully knotted silk tie, which I in turn tied
to wooden slat on the head board. Her shirt is in a
bundle on her wrists, and her pants and underwear are
on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her eyes are
closed as she willfully blinds herself to sight,
choosing to let her body alone introduce her to the
sensations to come. I pull an ice cube out of my
whiskey glass and hold it over her neck. She smiles
and cranes her neck a bit as the first drop hit her
pulse, and rolls off her neck, leaving a small trail.
The next cold drop hits on the cleft at the base of
her neck and pools. My tongue reaches through puddle,
instantly warming it.

"Mmmmmmm..."

I drag the cube along her collarbone, just teasing the
edge of the curve. I see bumps of sensitivity rise on
her skin. I lift the cube off and let a drop fall next
to her nipple. I watch in fascination as it leaves a
cold trail, rolling off to the center of her chest. I
let the next drop land on her nipple squarely, then
touch the cube there. The water rushes forth over her
hot skin as it builds a river off her side to the bed
below. I lift the cube off and replace it with the
warmth of my mouth. I suck gently, but run my soft
warm tongue over her flesh, melting the cool barrier
away.

"Oahhhhhh..."

Her breathing is becoming less rhythmic, time to dial
it up some. I touch the cube to her other nipple
briefly, then enthusiastically start licking it,
keeping in trapped in my warm hot mouth. I let it fall
from from the suction reluctantly as I leave the ice
cube between my teeth, letting my cool damp fingers
fall between her legs, softly kneading the wet mess
below, feeling my around, discovering her. With my
mouth I drag the cube along the edge of her rib cage,
tracing the line, letting letting it go and watching
it skate down to her navel, settling in a small
half-circle. My mouth quickly reclaims the rapidly
shrinking shard of ice as my fingers penetrate her for
the first time.

"YEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..."

I lead with the cube as I test the outline of her
tattoo, describing its features with the cold, leaving
it cold as I drop my face lower, my tongue reaches
from under the ice to touch her most sensitive flesh.
The cool water runs in a river down my tongue, mixing
the warmth and the cold together on her clit, the wave
sof sensation riding together blending. My finger is
sliding smoothly in and out of her as my tongue flicks
away, throwing the last watery remnants of the ice
around.

"MMMMMMMmmmmmmmm...yessssssssss..."

I pull my fingers out and lift my mouth away. Her eyes
flash open as the sudden cessation of pleasure to find
mine above her. I see the burning desire in her eyes
in the flash before they close and her head lifts to
mine kissing me. As I press my tongue into her mouth,
I settle my weight over her and press myself into her.
I feel her involuntary moan into my mouth as I push my
full length into her, burying myself in the warm
sleeve stretched around me. Her legs cross behind
behind me, willing me to move. I keep myself lodged
deeply inside her, rocking my hips, keeping on the
barest of motions. Her body undulates below me,
pulling and pushing me into longer and longer motions.
I break the kiss and open my eyes, watching her face
as she reaches hard for the lofty goal, pushing
herself, focusing her whole world into the inches in
her center, feeling the waves of hot, wild excitement
bursting out from inside her...

I blink, and see my tab dropped on the bar in front of
me. Sam gives me a friendly smile as she takes the
tenner, no change. I always feel like I owe people a
little more for making an appearance in my mind.

Sorry I Lost one

2004-10-20T10:33:00.000-04:00

I was in the middle of writing this great story about this young female bartender and some ice and a bit of creative knotting, but the browser crashed about halfway through. I'll try to get back to it later today, but it is kind of hard for me to get all wound writing one of these, lose it, and start over again. I tend to ride along with you as I write these, eagerly rushing to see what happens next (which is part of why posts tend to have so many typos when they first go up) so it is hard for me to get back to the place I was when I started and do it all over again.

But I haven't forgotten either of my readers. (Okay, maybe there are more)

Recommendation

2004-10-20T09:37:00.000-04:00

Okay, I don't do a lot of plugging, but I did want to point out this blog:

newageharlot.blogspot.com

Part of it is a certain kindred spirit behind the writing in the same sort of "acknowledging the other self" way, and more of it is really that I enjoy the way she writes, though her approach is pretty different than my own. Good writing is good writing, says I. Definitely worth the look.

The Rainy Day

2004-10-19T13:53:00.000-04:00

It's a steady rain today. Not too hard, but hard enough that nobody wants to look around. Which suits us fine, as we continue to drape all the glass in my car in fog. Rachel has swung herself over to my seat, her knees planted in the leather on either side of me, her hands cradling my cheeks as we kiss. Our tongues meet in the space between our lips, teasing each other. My hands feel the thin fabric of her shirt dappled with drops of rain. I push the shirt up and luxuriate in the silky warmth of her skin, made extra hot by her body chasing away the cold of the water. Her arms go up almost automatically, and I lift the shirt over her head, her blonde hair falling effortlessly around her face. She smiles as I see the bright red lace of her bra for the first time. My lips fall to her shoulder, kissing her on either side of the strap...kissing my way down, tracing the tantalizing edge of the lace of over her breasts. I sense her head tilting sharply, guiding her hair out of the way as she watching my lips and tongue teases her flesh, testing the artificial but graceful boundary of the lingerie. As my kisses start to go up the other side, I pull the strap off her shoulder, and she shrugs out of it. I reach back and open the clasp, and I can't help smiling at the fact that it opened the first time.

The bra drops away into her seat and she begins unbuttoning my shirt. I softly massage her breasts, capturing them in my large hands as I lean back the seat, taking in the sounds of the rain, enjoying her focus on me. I prop myself up the get the shirt off my shoulders as push it away, and I feel the warm leather on my back. She quickly lies on top of me, the warmth of our bodies feeling almost heavenly against the pounding cold water outside. My hands lift her skirt, finding her red lace thong. My hand reaches around and finds her warm moist flesh beneath the silky barrier. I rub her softly through it, letting the weave of the fabric create sensations below my touch. Her legs slide up the flattened out seat, exposing her to my hand. I continue to brush her lightly through the fabric, causing her to moan into my mouth as the kisses become more aggressive and passionate. Her hips begin pushing against my hand, and I slide my hand away. She breaks the kiss in disappointment until she feels my finger hook around the strap around her hip, then slide around to the center of our actions, tugging the wisp of fabric away, exposing her to the cooler, humid air.

The first touch to her exposed flesh causes a loud moan and a feverish resumption of the kissing. Almost without thought I have a finger inside her, and her begin involuntarily thrusting themselves on it. Not letting the moment pass to fast, I brace my palm on her hips and carefully keep just one knuckle engaged inside her. Her face lifts off again, her eyes aglow with the frustration of having her gratification delayed. I become aware of her hand tugging at my zipper. Soon it is inside my pants, working to extract my hot, engorged member from beneath the fabric. As soon as I feel the humid musty air inside the car on me, her hips start to pivot away from hand, her wetness slightly cool at first when it touches, but quickly giving way to the intense, enveloping heat of her body as she finally captures me. Her eyes flutter closed as she leans back, her head against the ceiling of the car.

As she settles back starting to slowly grind her hips, I busily try clear my pants from the site of our union. She takes my hands and guides them to her breasts, squeezing them as she begins the drive herself higher and fall harder with each motion. I bite my lip, concentrating on controlling myself as she works harder and faster, moaning, leaning back against the wheel, somehow not sounding the horn. Her arms are bracing her on anything they can find as her moans start becoming full throated cries of pleasure. She is breathing out ragged sentences, and cries of assent. Without warning I see her belly start to spasm...The waves rippling cross her body. The walls inside her clamp down on me, squeezing hard. My vision goes dark, with stars showering across my view. She is screaming now, her cries nearly matched by the loud incessant pounding of the rain on the glass around us. I am barely aware of the liquid explosion I am creating inside her, lost in the sheer intensity of the moment. I see her collapse downward exhaustedly, her hand swiping a clear path through the fog on the window.

I blink, shifting cruelly to reality as I stare at the four jagged paths left by her fingers on the window of the other car. I twist the key and start my own, leaving the two lovers to their intimacy...

The Girl In My Class

2004-10-18T17:19:00.000-04:00

Ah I love grad school. Especially when I'm in an undergrad class. I am sneaking through a girl's dorm right now with Kate, a long-haired brunette from class. Her hair is incredibly silky, and she has taken to wearing it down of late, flowing and shiny. We get to her room, she quickly unlocks the door and we are inside. She shyly puts her backpack down, and I drop my briefcase. I know what she wants but letting conversation get started will embarrass her. I step to her, taking her face in my hands and kiss her. Her lips eagerly part and my tongue slides between them, feeling her tongue in her mouth, caressing it softly. Her arm cross behind my head as she loses herself in the kiss. My hands slide up her shirt, over her smooth belly, feeling her ribs as I reach the swells of her breasts. She looks part Latin, and the enthralling warm soft curves beneath my hands help convey that image. She lifts her arms up and I peel the baby tee of her thin lithe body, enjoying her radiant 20-year-old form. She had gone without a bra today, something my hands are grateful for now as they encircle her nipples, teasing them a bit before closing and pinching them.

She moans softly as she opens her mouth and presses it to mine, her tongue aggressively entering my mouth, her body involuntarily seeking pleasure. I am pushed back to her bunk bed as she starts hurriedly unknotting my tie and unbuttoning the dark blue shirt below. Her kisses quickly drop to my chest. I marvel at the freedom of her actions now that the first step has been taken. I am watching in tremendous pleasure as she hurries to pile my clothes on the floor. Her warm hand on my hot shaft is a thrill, but still mild compared to the electric rush of her tongue laving over mushroom tip before I disappear in her mouth. I let her work briefly before pulling her off, wanting to slow down and savor this. But her eagerness gives her a different interpretation.

She stands, pushing off her white cotton pants, suddenly naked before me. She pushes me down onto the lower half of the bed, her face close to mine, kissing me. I let myself get enraptured in the kiss before I recognize her hand on me, guiding me into her. In a flash she has impaled herself on me. Her moan is loud and resonant in her mouth as she keeps her lips touching. She is grinding on me quickly, driving us both wild. In what seems like mere seconds, we are exploding together, her moans loud and ragged.

No sooner is the moment over than she is quickly dressing and handing me my clothes. Confused, I dress. She immediately pulls her book out and starts talking math, as if nothing had happened. Still mystified, the door creaks open, and her roommate walks in...

And Kate smiles and waves goodbye as she walks back to her dorm and I continue to the office alone, jolted very unpleasantly out of my dream...

The Older woman

2004-10-18T16:54:00.000-04:00

She was a redhead, short hair, maybe chin length. A small petite figure that screamed for attention. We were in the back of the restaurant, in the manager's office (her office as it turned out). Her hands were in my hair as my head sank down to her breasts, my tongue snaking out and capturing her upturned nipple, rolling around it. I heard a soft sigh escape her lips and moved my warm tongue across to her other breast, her arms guiding my head. As my tongue flicked up and down, my hands busily unzipped her jeans and peeled them downward, pulling her pink(!) thong with them. She sat on the desk as they reach her knees, scooting out of her shoes. I knelt before her on the desk after I pulled the jeans off, my tongue reaching for her clit. I felt her hand brace her on the desk nearby as she moaned softly at the first touch. I quickly made the motions faster, but light, dancing on her flesh. Her fingers idly scratch my scalp, I hooked a hand under her leg to cradle her small breast, squeezing it softly as I continued my dedicated work. I looked up to see her biting her lip, trying to keep quiet. I smiled against her as I stood up between her legs, unbuckling my belt. She quickly worked to assist in freeing me. I held my hot erection between her legs, rubbing her with it, getting it wet. Then I found that soft spot, and pressed hard...I quickly sank into her, hearing her breath catch as she bit my shoulder, trying to keep quiet. I paused of a minute, until her legs began imploring me to move. I started working harder and harder, I could feel her straining to keep me inside, stretched taut around me, the quaking beginning somewhere deep in her body...

I blinked, and the light was green. I pressed down the gas, and resumed my journey through the world I regrettably describe as real.

I'm supposed to intoduce this thing, but screw it

2004-10-18T16:46:00.000-04:00

I was at a big festival this weekend. There was this kind of cute person in line next to me at one of the tables that just happily joined in my conversation without being invited. In a flash, I had a picture of her in my mind, spread out across a bed before me, with my tongue reaching out for her softest flesh. I blinked the image away, and the conversation was over a sentence later. I wanted her, I knew I did, but I let her walk away. I recognized her a couple of other times, too, but never said a word. Why? I was there with some friends, and I am married (not to her). Can't let people know about this stuff. But it's there, it's in my head, and I have to do something with it...

I write these stories a lot. talk about finding hidden moments on trains, with passing strangers, with those of only the most tenous of connections. Passing acquaintances bursting in the full flame of being lovers. And it never actually happens. But I think about it.

Well, I'm going to tell some of these stories now. Don't worry about checking this guy every tend minutes, or every day. But I'll work it now and then. Sometimes these thoughts are too exquisite not to share...