Utterly exhausted today for lack of sleep. Horrible dreams last night and I think I would have gotten more rest if I'd been cracked over the head with a baseball bat and been rendered unconscious. Not sure I'm up for anything more intellectual than this week's TMI Tuesday, so here 'tis.
1. Have you used put anything edible on (or in) your partner's body and then eaten it?
Sure. Chocolate body frosting is pretty tasty, actually, although she was a lot tastier after I'd been painting and then licking up the frosting for a while.
2. Have you ever had an AIDS test due to reasonable suspicion or hyperactive imagination?
Nope. I take the standard battery of tests before having sex with any new partner, but I've never even had any suspicions.
3. Have you ever fantasized about someone else other than your partner while you were engaged in sex, oral sex, or mutual masturbation?
During solo masturbation, yes, but during any cooperative acts I am surprisingly unlikely to stray in my thoughts. I'm usually bending all of my mind towards pleasing my partner, and so they're normally foremost in my thoughts. Sure, I've strayed once or twice, but it's rare.
4. Have you ever engaged in sex, oral sex, or mutual masturbation while in a moving car? A car being driven by someone not engaged in the sex, oral sex, or mutual masturbation?
This is one of my biggest fantasies -- to have someone go down on me while I was driving. Hasn't happened yet. I've also tried fondling my partner while she was driving or riding as a passenger but she didn't like that and made me stop.
5. Have you ever had sex so many times or for so long that one or both people involved runs dry?
Not in a single unbroken session, but I have managed 9 times in a single 24-hour period, which is my personal record. That was 9 instances of actual penetrative sex -- there was plenty of oral sex and digital stimulation as well. At the end of that neither of us wanted anything other than sleep. :)
Bonus (as in optional): Name 5 things an unplanned (or planned) visitor would find in your bedroom?
-- An unmade bed
-- Bookcases with tons of books
-- Alarm clock
-- Dresser
-- End table
Sure, you can play TMI Tuesday too.
-- PB
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Saddened
One thing I have noticed over and over and over as I browse around the world of sex journals is that there are an awful lot of unhappy or unfulfilled people. In unhappy marriages, unhappy relationships, unhappy life situations. Their husbands won't talk to them, or their wives won't have sex with them anymore, or they're horribly depressed or confused about the raging drives inside them.
This saddens me. I'm a cynic, but I would like to believe that people are smarter than this. I have to wonder how much of this is due to upbringing and my culture's repressed views on sexuality in general (most of the journals I've added so far are written by people based in the United States, where sex is sold on every street corner but rarely taught or explained properly). Is it a cultural thing? Or are there just as many sad and confused people in (say) China or Ecuador and Russia? I have seen journal after journal talk about how they got married after only one or two partners and then discovered that they weren't sexually compatible with the one they married. I've seen so many people talk about how their sex drive is so radically different from their partner's. Hell, I'm even one of them. My own relationship is struggling because I have trouble getting her to talk to me about anything in general, much less our sex life.
Communication has to be a factor in all relationships. Over and over I read about problems that could be solved by communicating, but over and over I read that the writer has tried time and time again to communicate with their partner and they just aren't listening, or aren't receptive, or don't seem to have any interest in working out the problems. Relationships have to be two-way for them to work, people. If you can't talk to your partner or they won't talk to you, there's lots of other trouble afoot besides whatever may be wrong with your sex life. And that saddens me too, knowing that there are so many disintegrating relationships out there.
Yes, I realize that people grow and change, expand and contract, slide sideways or forwards or away from what they were months or years ago. Good partners don't mind that, or can expand and contract and slide along with you. But I know there's a point of no return, beyond which you have to say "enough is enough". Some people change to the point where you barely recognize them anymore, and the person that you fell in love with is no longer the person you wake up next to every day. And then it's all over but the tears and recriminations. What's worse is when you want to love them still -- when you don't want to give up what you had with them -- when you try to apply bandages and spackle and duct tape to hold together the structure that's creaking and toppling. Sometimes a clean break is better. But what if you break off and then discover it was the worst mistake of your life? That you were never happier than when you were with them, even during the sad times?
One of the reasons I started this journal was to explore and question. I read journals from people who are cheating without their partner's knowledge. This one is tired of talking to him because for years he hasn't listened to a word she's said. This one is so starved for attention of any kind that he furtively posts on adult sites, meeting for rendezvouses that he admits leave him sexually fulfilled but emotionally empty. This one has been to counseling more times than she can count but her partner won't reach out to bridge the gaps or won't admit there are issues; so she meets her lover in secret weekly and is never happier.
Others cheat with full knowledge of their partner. Which raises the question, is it really cheating if you have permission? Here's a couple in a completely open relationship, who hold nothing back, not even their sweaty trysts with the multiple other lovers they share; yet they still come back to each other time and time again, stronger and renewed. Here's a husband whose wife has given him permission to go find sex somewhere other than with her because she loves him, but doesn't care about sex anymore. Here's a wife whose hubby gets off on the idea of her with other men and likes to watch them, but has no interest in outside sex at all. She's all he needs.
Differences, differences. The world spins, and people interact, and everyone's different. How can you possibly know when you're getting involved with someone if that same magic and excitement is going to still be there years down the road? Are we constructed to find a life partner and stick with them forever? Or is it in human nature to be happier with successions of relationships, changing needs and circumstances? Or are "open" relationships, with one primary partner and several other secondary satellites, really models that work?
I don't have any answers. I don't even have any idea where these philosophical rumblings came from, but hell, this is my space and I'll muse if I want to. Nyah.
-- PB
This saddens me. I'm a cynic, but I would like to believe that people are smarter than this. I have to wonder how much of this is due to upbringing and my culture's repressed views on sexuality in general (most of the journals I've added so far are written by people based in the United States, where sex is sold on every street corner but rarely taught or explained properly). Is it a cultural thing? Or are there just as many sad and confused people in (say) China or Ecuador and Russia? I have seen journal after journal talk about how they got married after only one or two partners and then discovered that they weren't sexually compatible with the one they married. I've seen so many people talk about how their sex drive is so radically different from their partner's. Hell, I'm even one of them. My own relationship is struggling because I have trouble getting her to talk to me about anything in general, much less our sex life.
Communication has to be a factor in all relationships. Over and over I read about problems that could be solved by communicating, but over and over I read that the writer has tried time and time again to communicate with their partner and they just aren't listening, or aren't receptive, or don't seem to have any interest in working out the problems. Relationships have to be two-way for them to work, people. If you can't talk to your partner or they won't talk to you, there's lots of other trouble afoot besides whatever may be wrong with your sex life. And that saddens me too, knowing that there are so many disintegrating relationships out there.
Yes, I realize that people grow and change, expand and contract, slide sideways or forwards or away from what they were months or years ago. Good partners don't mind that, or can expand and contract and slide along with you. But I know there's a point of no return, beyond which you have to say "enough is enough". Some people change to the point where you barely recognize them anymore, and the person that you fell in love with is no longer the person you wake up next to every day. And then it's all over but the tears and recriminations. What's worse is when you want to love them still -- when you don't want to give up what you had with them -- when you try to apply bandages and spackle and duct tape to hold together the structure that's creaking and toppling. Sometimes a clean break is better. But what if you break off and then discover it was the worst mistake of your life? That you were never happier than when you were with them, even during the sad times?
One of the reasons I started this journal was to explore and question. I read journals from people who are cheating without their partner's knowledge. This one is tired of talking to him because for years he hasn't listened to a word she's said. This one is so starved for attention of any kind that he furtively posts on adult sites, meeting for rendezvouses that he admits leave him sexually fulfilled but emotionally empty. This one has been to counseling more times than she can count but her partner won't reach out to bridge the gaps or won't admit there are issues; so she meets her lover in secret weekly and is never happier.
Others cheat with full knowledge of their partner. Which raises the question, is it really cheating if you have permission? Here's a couple in a completely open relationship, who hold nothing back, not even their sweaty trysts with the multiple other lovers they share; yet they still come back to each other time and time again, stronger and renewed. Here's a husband whose wife has given him permission to go find sex somewhere other than with her because she loves him, but doesn't care about sex anymore. Here's a wife whose hubby gets off on the idea of her with other men and likes to watch them, but has no interest in outside sex at all. She's all he needs.
Differences, differences. The world spins, and people interact, and everyone's different. How can you possibly know when you're getting involved with someone if that same magic and excitement is going to still be there years down the road? Are we constructed to find a life partner and stick with them forever? Or is it in human nature to be happier with successions of relationships, changing needs and circumstances? Or are "open" relationships, with one primary partner and several other secondary satellites, really models that work?
I don't have any answers. I don't even have any idea where these philosophical rumblings came from, but hell, this is my space and I'll muse if I want to. Nyah.
-- PB
Flash Fiction Friday #5: "A Visit From Aphrodite"
He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, willing himself to remain calm, pleased that his hands betrayed nothing of his tension, the clockspring ratcheting unbearably up.
And then She appeared in the doorway. Emerald eyes blinked at him, calculating. She leaned against the jamb and smiled lazily.
She carried a flogger in Her right hand, its tails carelessly over Her shoulder.
“Is that....for me?” he asked, hesitantly.
“That depends,” She purred dangerously. “Is that” – She pointed at his cock, which was standing up tall and proud – “for Me?”
“Yes .... my Goddess,” he whispered.
[[This is my entry for Spanky and Tiggs's Flash Fiction Friday, challenge #5: 100 words prompted by the picture shown above. Want to play too? Go see the rules and then send in your own contribution.
You can also, by the way, thank the lovely Luna Mauvaise for providing the picture itself. No, that isn't her, so stop drooling, but her words are hot enough even without pictures of her. Go check her out.]]
-- PB
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sugasm #173
HNT courtesy of Secrets of a Blue-Eyed Vixen.
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #174? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
Dressing Room Voyeur
“I caught his gaze this time, on purpose.”
It’s Always the Quiet Ones…
“So grabbing her hips, I pulled her in for a kiss.”
Behind Closed Doors
“Others had watched, she beat me, brought me to tears, held me and then began to untie me.”
Sugasm Editor
The Mouse Drama
Editor’s Choice
Let the Rain Come
More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Fun at Work
Christina: picture this
Christina: i'm wearing a blue satin silk top
Christina: and ass hugging jeans
Panserbjorne: I like the picture already.
Christina: the top is low cut and is a nice contrast w/ my white breasts
Christina: now picture me stroking your chest
Christina: and asking to wrap my legs around your waist
Christina: that's where i'm at right now
Christina: at least inside my head
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Panserbjorne: I see that it's one of THOSE nights for you. :)
Christina: stroking my shaved pussy
Christina: so i can feel you get hard beneath me
Christina: i was thinking about you all the way home from the party i was at.
Panserbjorne: Oh, wow. :)
Panserbjorne: What happened at the party to get you worked up?
Christina: i just feel sexy tonight.
Christina: and a lot of guys staring at my tits
* Panserbjorne grins.
Christina: you're the one i want to bring home though.
* Panserbjorne blushes.
Christina: my C cups runneth over
* Panserbjorne grins.
Christina: nice and full
Christina: they desperately need to be fondled.
Panserbjorne: I would delight in doing so.
Christina: damn i want to fuck you.
Christina: i want to suck you nice and hard
Christina: and then slide right onto you
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Christina: swivel my hips
Christina: and thrust up and down
Christina: while you kiss my breasts
Christina: your hands everywhere
Panserbjorne: *kiss kiss kiss*
Christina: fuck me, PB
Christina: seriously, you were all i could think about on the ride home
Christina: i'd have touched myself but it was pouring, and i needed both hands to drive.
Panserbjorne: man, I just can't say how nice that makes me feel :)
Christina: i bet i could make you feel nicer.
Christina: c'mon
Christina: i want to see if you're as good as you write. ;)
Panserbjorne: well
Christina: i want your cock.
* Panserbjorne shudders deliciously.
Christina: i'll make you shudder inside of me.
Christina: i want to ride you
Christina: nice and hard
Christina: grinding my pussy into you
Christina: i want your hands on my waist
Christina: helping to move me back and forth
Christina: until we both cum
Christina: i need your hands on my tits and my ass
Christina: your fingers buried in my cunt
Christina: i want my lips on your chest
Christina: my hands in your hair
Christina: my moans in your ears
Christina: satisfy me
Panserbjorne: You have no idea what that's doing to me, do you? :)
Christina: nope
Christina: you're not being very vocal...;)
Christina: fuck me
Panserbjorne: I SO wish I could.
Christina: i need you in me
Panserbjorne: I would rather be anywhere else than here right now.
Panserbjorne: in your bed, sliding in and out of you, feeling your skin slippery with sweat against mine, would be a perfect escape.
Christina: would you pound me?
Panserbjorne: That depends.
Panserbjorne: I would start slow and grinding
Christina: i need rough sex tonight, not lovemaking
Panserbjorne: until you were panting for more.
Christina: i need you to make me cum, PB.
Panserbjorne: oh, wait, that's different.
Panserbjorne: If you want it rough and hard, then I would give it to you rough and hard.
Christina: i'm hot
Panserbjorne: yank your jeans down
Panserbjorne: bend you over a chair
Christina: my pussy is dripping for you.
Panserbjorne: yank your top up (or down) so I could maul your tits
Christina: mm
Christina: but i'm only in my underwear now..
Panserbjorne: then I'd yank THAT down. :)
Christina: and my fingers are stroking my clit
Christina: while i think about you having your way w/ me
Christina: fuck me good and hard
Christina: i feel naughty tonight
Panserbjorne: oh, my, yes.
Panserbjorne: banging you against the wall
Panserbjorne: your hands spread to brace you
Christina: yes please
Panserbjorne: perhaps yanking on your hair or your shoulders to pull you against me
Christina: yes
Panserbjorne: fucking you so hard that your ass is sore the next day from my flesh slapping against yours
Christina: but not so sore that i wouldn't want you again
Panserbjorne: Oh, of course not. :)
Christina: it's raining out
Christina: i'd love to bang you and listen to the rain.
Christina: or we could fuck in the rain
Panserbjorne: or perhaps bang me out in the rain?
Panserbjorne: :)
Panserbjorne: twisted minds think alike. :)
Christina: you could bend me over my fire escape and nail me.
Christina: i need you to nail me, PB.
Christina: i want you so badly.
Panserbjorne: over your fire escape, hmm?
Christina: mm hmm
Panserbjorne: out on the fire escape, rain pouring down, you shrieking so loud your neighbors think it's a firebell and call the fire department. :)
Christina: or they start to fuck too.
Christina: i'm going to go think of you and masturbate.
Panserbjorne: oh, that would be nice, too. to be the catalyst.
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmm
Christina: promise you'll try to come soon?
Panserbjorne: as soon as I can humanly manage. :)
Christina: good
Christina: i can't wait to cum on your cock.
Panserbjorne: (probably in the next half hour, since I'll have to run to the restroom to take the edge off here).
Christina: i meant come here, dirty boy
Panserbjorne: and yes, I know that's not exactly what you meant. :)
Christina: then i'll make you cum over and over.
Panserbjorne: and the response is the same. Heh.
Christina: hell's bells
Christina: i'd do you in the parking lot
Christina: skirt
Christina: no underwear
Christina: riding you in the passenger's seat
* Panserbjorne shivers deliciously again.
Christina: i want to hear about you masturbating later, ok?
Panserbjorne: Same goes for you.
Panserbjorne: I want to know what you did to yourself after signing off. :)
Christina: will do, lover
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmm
Christina: think of me fingering myself to orgasm while you finger the keyboard
She signed off and I stretched nonchalantly. "Back in a minute, got to use the restroom," I called to a coworker; he looked up briefly and nodded.
I was glad to find the bathroom empty. Talking with Christina had really gotten me worked up and there was an uncomfortable tent in my pants. I headed at an almost dead run into the stall, locked it behind me, and dropped my pants and underwear, taking myself in hand. It didn't take very long before I was panting hard, trying to listen for the bathroom door while stroking myself furiously. I was already so turned on that it was only about a minute before I was grunting and spewing come everywhere. White jets splattered all over the toilet, some on the floor, and one even hit the wall above the toilet. I spent several minutes cleaning up the mess (and myself), tucked myself back in, and returned to work.
Of course, when I got home I sent Christina a nice description of what it had been like when I came, and that started yet another interesting conversation, but that's a story for another time.....
[[A recent post from the enchanting Luna Mauvaise inspired this; she said that I should share a few of my own naughty-fun-at-work stories. This took place a few years ago when I was working the graveyard shift at a company and had little to do except monitor a bank of computer systems for failures. That led to some interesting IM conversations with this young lady, who I regrettably still have not met. The names have been changed and some of the convo has been cut, but otherwise this is word for word.]]
Christina: i'm wearing a blue satin silk top
Christina: and ass hugging jeans
Panserbjorne: I like the picture already.
Christina: the top is low cut and is a nice contrast w/ my white breasts
Christina: now picture me stroking your chest
Christina: and asking to wrap my legs around your waist
Christina: that's where i'm at right now
Christina: at least inside my head
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Panserbjorne: I see that it's one of THOSE nights for you. :)
Christina: stroking my shaved pussy
Christina: so i can feel you get hard beneath me
Christina: i was thinking about you all the way home from the party i was at.
Panserbjorne: Oh, wow. :)
Panserbjorne: What happened at the party to get you worked up?
Christina: i just feel sexy tonight.
Christina: and a lot of guys staring at my tits
* Panserbjorne grins.
Christina: you're the one i want to bring home though.
* Panserbjorne blushes.
Christina: my C cups runneth over
* Panserbjorne grins.
Christina: nice and full
Christina: they desperately need to be fondled.
Panserbjorne: I would delight in doing so.
Christina: damn i want to fuck you.
Christina: i want to suck you nice and hard
Christina: and then slide right onto you
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Christina: swivel my hips
Christina: and thrust up and down
Christina: while you kiss my breasts
Christina: your hands everywhere
Panserbjorne: *kiss kiss kiss*
Christina: fuck me, PB
Christina: seriously, you were all i could think about on the ride home
Christina: i'd have touched myself but it was pouring, and i needed both hands to drive.
Panserbjorne: man, I just can't say how nice that makes me feel :)
Christina: i bet i could make you feel nicer.
Christina: c'mon
Christina: i want to see if you're as good as you write. ;)
Panserbjorne: well
Christina: i want your cock.
* Panserbjorne shudders deliciously.
Christina: i'll make you shudder inside of me.
Christina: i want to ride you
Christina: nice and hard
Christina: grinding my pussy into you
Christina: i want your hands on my waist
Christina: helping to move me back and forth
Christina: until we both cum
Christina: i need your hands on my tits and my ass
Christina: your fingers buried in my cunt
Christina: i want my lips on your chest
Christina: my hands in your hair
Christina: my moans in your ears
Christina: satisfy me
Panserbjorne: You have no idea what that's doing to me, do you? :)
Christina: nope
Christina: you're not being very vocal...;)
Christina: fuck me
Panserbjorne: I SO wish I could.
Christina: i need you in me
Panserbjorne: I would rather be anywhere else than here right now.
Panserbjorne: in your bed, sliding in and out of you, feeling your skin slippery with sweat against mine, would be a perfect escape.
Christina: would you pound me?
Panserbjorne: That depends.
Panserbjorne: I would start slow and grinding
Christina: i need rough sex tonight, not lovemaking
Panserbjorne: until you were panting for more.
Christina: i need you to make me cum, PB.
Panserbjorne: oh, wait, that's different.
Panserbjorne: If you want it rough and hard, then I would give it to you rough and hard.
Christina: i'm hot
Panserbjorne: yank your jeans down
Panserbjorne: bend you over a chair
Christina: my pussy is dripping for you.
Panserbjorne: yank your top up (or down) so I could maul your tits
Christina: mm
Christina: but i'm only in my underwear now..
Panserbjorne: then I'd yank THAT down. :)
Christina: and my fingers are stroking my clit
Christina: while i think about you having your way w/ me
Christina: fuck me good and hard
Christina: i feel naughty tonight
Panserbjorne: oh, my, yes.
Panserbjorne: banging you against the wall
Panserbjorne: your hands spread to brace you
Christina: yes please
Panserbjorne: perhaps yanking on your hair or your shoulders to pull you against me
Christina: yes
Panserbjorne: fucking you so hard that your ass is sore the next day from my flesh slapping against yours
Christina: but not so sore that i wouldn't want you again
Panserbjorne: Oh, of course not. :)
Christina: it's raining out
Christina: i'd love to bang you and listen to the rain.
Christina: or we could fuck in the rain
Panserbjorne: or perhaps bang me out in the rain?
Panserbjorne: :)
Panserbjorne: twisted minds think alike. :)
Christina: you could bend me over my fire escape and nail me.
Christina: i need you to nail me, PB.
Christina: i want you so badly.
Panserbjorne: over your fire escape, hmm?
Christina: mm hmm
Panserbjorne: out on the fire escape, rain pouring down, you shrieking so loud your neighbors think it's a firebell and call the fire department. :)
Christina: or they start to fuck too.
Christina: i'm going to go think of you and masturbate.
Panserbjorne: oh, that would be nice, too. to be the catalyst.
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmm
Christina: promise you'll try to come soon?
Panserbjorne: as soon as I can humanly manage. :)
Christina: good
Christina: i can't wait to cum on your cock.
Panserbjorne: (probably in the next half hour, since I'll have to run to the restroom to take the edge off here).
Christina: i meant come here, dirty boy
Panserbjorne: and yes, I know that's not exactly what you meant. :)
Christina: then i'll make you cum over and over.
Panserbjorne: and the response is the same. Heh.
Christina: hell's bells
Christina: i'd do you in the parking lot
Christina: skirt
Christina: no underwear
Christina: riding you in the passenger's seat
* Panserbjorne shivers deliciously again.
Christina: i want to hear about you masturbating later, ok?
Panserbjorne: Same goes for you.
Panserbjorne: I want to know what you did to yourself after signing off. :)
Christina: will do, lover
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmm
Christina: think of me fingering myself to orgasm while you finger the keyboard
She signed off and I stretched nonchalantly. "Back in a minute, got to use the restroom," I called to a coworker; he looked up briefly and nodded.
I was glad to find the bathroom empty. Talking with Christina had really gotten me worked up and there was an uncomfortable tent in my pants. I headed at an almost dead run into the stall, locked it behind me, and dropped my pants and underwear, taking myself in hand. It didn't take very long before I was panting hard, trying to listen for the bathroom door while stroking myself furiously. I was already so turned on that it was only about a minute before I was grunting and spewing come everywhere. White jets splattered all over the toilet, some on the floor, and one even hit the wall above the toilet. I spent several minutes cleaning up the mess (and myself), tucked myself back in, and returned to work.
Of course, when I got home I sent Christina a nice description of what it had been like when I came, and that started yet another interesting conversation, but that's a story for another time.....
[[A recent post from the enchanting Luna Mauvaise inspired this; she said that I should share a few of my own naughty-fun-at-work stories. This took place a few years ago when I was working the graveyard shift at a company and had little to do except monitor a bank of computer systems for failures. That led to some interesting IM conversations with this young lady, who I regrettably still have not met. The names have been changed and some of the convo has been cut, but otherwise this is word for word.]]
Monday, September 21, 2009
Hair up there?
As somebody who's gone both with and without facial hair over the years, I'm curious as to what you ladies prefer. Or you guys, actually.
What's your preference? No facial hair at all? Mustache only? Mustache and goatee? Short pointy Van Dyke beard only? Or a full beard and mustache? Or some other combination?
No facial hair does definitely make for smoother kissing and mouth-caressing, but some women have told me they like the scratchy feeling caused by stubble or facial hair on their shoulders or back or between their legs. To each her own, of course; I'm just curious what you think.
Not talking about pubic hair, at least not yet. That's a subject for a different entry entirely. :)
-- PB
What's your preference? No facial hair at all? Mustache only? Mustache and goatee? Short pointy Van Dyke beard only? Or a full beard and mustache? Or some other combination?
No facial hair does definitely make for smoother kissing and mouth-caressing, but some women have told me they like the scratchy feeling caused by stubble or facial hair on their shoulders or back or between their legs. To each her own, of course; I'm just curious what you think.
Not talking about pubic hair, at least not yet. That's a subject for a different entry entirely. :)
-- PB
When I Think About You I Touch Myself
Ah, the joys of self-love. Masturbation's always there for you, when your partner's at work, or busy, or just not interested. Or, for that matter, when you don't have a partner to take your frustrations out on.
Over the years I've gotten very good at it, of course. Usually I wank myself with a loosely curled hand around my shaft, sliding the loose skin up and down, or just rubbing up and down more loosely for friction. Sometimes I'll use thumb and fingers to rub the head. I tend to speed up more as I get closer to coming, and sometimes I grip harder and more frantically too.
I've been experimenting lately with "minimal stimulation" masturbation, though. Instead of using my whole hand, I'm using just thumb and index finger, and very light, very short movements to stimulate myself. It's very interesting to feel the sensations sweeping over me as I get closer and closer to exploding. I get tingly all over and my cock's head swells, and I deliberately slow down still more and use an even lighter touch. Sometimes I even let go entirely and just use a gentle index finger pressing along the underside of my dick, rubbing up and down oh so gently.
The results have been very interesting indeed. When I start coming, my cock pulses several times and come drips and drools out everywhere for a second or two, THEN all of a sudden the hard blasts start firing and I jet several inches up in the air. Weirdly enough, sometimes it feels even more intense this way than it does when I'm relentlessly whacking myself while watching a hardcore porno.
I don't think I'll ever be able to manage a completely handsfree ejaculation, but there's something really cool about bringing yourself off with just a single finger and some brief light touches. Definitely a subject worthy of further study. In fact, I think I'll study some more right now. My dick's standing up and it seems to want some attention, so I guess I should give it some.....
-- PB
Over the years I've gotten very good at it, of course. Usually I wank myself with a loosely curled hand around my shaft, sliding the loose skin up and down, or just rubbing up and down more loosely for friction. Sometimes I'll use thumb and fingers to rub the head. I tend to speed up more as I get closer to coming, and sometimes I grip harder and more frantically too.
I've been experimenting lately with "minimal stimulation" masturbation, though. Instead of using my whole hand, I'm using just thumb and index finger, and very light, very short movements to stimulate myself. It's very interesting to feel the sensations sweeping over me as I get closer and closer to exploding. I get tingly all over and my cock's head swells, and I deliberately slow down still more and use an even lighter touch. Sometimes I even let go entirely and just use a gentle index finger pressing along the underside of my dick, rubbing up and down oh so gently.
The results have been very interesting indeed. When I start coming, my cock pulses several times and come drips and drools out everywhere for a second or two, THEN all of a sudden the hard blasts start firing and I jet several inches up in the air. Weirdly enough, sometimes it feels even more intense this way than it does when I'm relentlessly whacking myself while watching a hardcore porno.
I don't think I'll ever be able to manage a completely handsfree ejaculation, but there's something really cool about bringing yourself off with just a single finger and some brief light touches. Definitely a subject worthy of further study. In fact, I think I'll study some more right now. My dick's standing up and it seems to want some attention, so I guess I should give it some.....
-- PB
Friday, September 18, 2009
Insatiabear
Tonight I am definitely feeling like the Insatiabear. I don't know where the hell this came from (all right, shut up, it was probably the fact that I was browsing all you folks' hot writings for the past several hours), but right now I am, to put it bluntly, horny enough to fuck a rock. This isn't a gentle burn here, it's not a wish for snuggling and spooning and lovey talk. Oh, no.
No, this is hard and hot, savage, a dark fury. It's a desire to pounce and rend and tear. It's a wish to devour and be devoured, a crackling, towering inferno of lust. It's a wish to fuck and fuck and fuck, to slip and slide in and on and around you, fingers and tongues and cock and pussy and tits and hair and sweat and cum and oh god, yes, right there. It's imagining everything imaginable, a playground of flesh where anything can and does go, a series of scenarios, a plethora of positions, a symphony of screams. I want to cum in your pussy, on your tits, in your hair, on your back, in your laughing mouth. I want to make you cum with fingers, tongue, toys, vegetables, and my own cock. I want you from behind, on top, on the floor, in the shower, against the wall, in a chair, sprawled on a table, everywhere and anywhere. I want it until both of us are raw, sore and exhausted, until I can't get hard anymore and you've run out of pussy juices. I want to ruin clothing, bedsheets, carpeting, upholstery and wall decor.
And then I want it some more.
That's how I'm feeling right now.
-- PB
No, this is hard and hot, savage, a dark fury. It's a desire to pounce and rend and tear. It's a wish to devour and be devoured, a crackling, towering inferno of lust. It's a wish to fuck and fuck and fuck, to slip and slide in and on and around you, fingers and tongues and cock and pussy and tits and hair and sweat and cum and oh god, yes, right there. It's imagining everything imaginable, a playground of flesh where anything can and does go, a series of scenarios, a plethora of positions, a symphony of screams. I want to cum in your pussy, on your tits, in your hair, on your back, in your laughing mouth. I want to make you cum with fingers, tongue, toys, vegetables, and my own cock. I want you from behind, on top, on the floor, in the shower, against the wall, in a chair, sprawled on a table, everywhere and anywhere. I want it until both of us are raw, sore and exhausted, until I can't get hard anymore and you've run out of pussy juices. I want to ruin clothing, bedsheets, carpeting, upholstery and wall decor.
And then I want it some more.
That's how I'm feeling right now.
-- PB
Flash Fiction Friday #4: "In the Space Between Breaths"
The linen was crisp against her cheek, maid uniform crisp against her skin. Skin was all there was; she was bare underneath. She lay in wait for him, arse up, feigning sleep.
In the space between breaths, she heard the blood thundering in her ears, and the soft, awed gasp as he drank in the sight. Her cunt, soaked already, flooded at the very sound.
In three steps he was across the room, on her, and in her. She groaned with lust as he sank deep. His hands grabbed her heels and spread them wider. "Welcome home, darling," she sighed.
[[This is my entry for Spanky's Flash Fiction Friday, challenge #4 -- 100 words prompted by the image shown above. If you want to play too (and we can always use more fun participants), why not head over there and check it out?]]
-- PB
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
[fiction] A Race to the Finish
(I've just discovered that this story was chosen as the Editor's Choice in Sugasm #174. I'm honored! Welcome to all who drop by from that link -- thanks for visiting and I hope you like what else you see here.)
Lying on the couch, I watched her working at the computer, angrily brushing tendrils of black hair out of her face. She bit at her lower lip in that way that signified frustration for her but always turned me on.
"What is it, hon?" I asked. "You look annoyed. Well, more annoyed than usual when you're working."
She shook her head. "I need a break but I can't. Too damn much to get done."
"What, not even ten minutes?"
She glanced at me and her mouth quirked. "Get that look off your face, you know I haven't got time for that."
"Oh, come on," I grinned. "There's always time for that."
She made a show of giving it some thought, but I recognized the signs very well. Deeper breathing, wider pupils, shifting her legs in her seat. Her brain had already shifted into that gear and was accelerating down that road. "Okay, ten minutes. But no more than that."
"Well, if you're going to be that draconic about it, why not make it into a race?" I suggested, getting off the couch and moving towards her. She stood, too, and her arms went around me, pulling me close. "First one to get off is the winner?"
"Perfect," she smiled. "Even though we're both winners when that is going on."
"True enough. Well, do you want a countdown, or what?"
She cocked an eye skywards, thinking, and then nodded, licking her lips.
I made a great production of resetting the timer function on my wristwatch, cleared my throat, and began the countdown with much pomp and circumstance and my best stadium announcer voice. "TEN! NIIIINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX!........"
As I hit "five," though, she dropped to her knees and with one swift motion had my jeans around my ankles. My cock, half-hard already, bounced free, almost hitting her in the face, and without any further ado she was doing her best impression of a wet-dry vacuum. "Hey!" I squeaked. "No fair! Flying start! Disqualified!" She ignored me magnificently, sucking me with a fervor I'd rarely seen, slurping and slobbering on my cock like there was a deadline to meet. Which I guess there was.
"Oh, the hell with it," I groaned, and staggered backwards, falling on my ass with a crash. Very undignified, but how dignified can you be with your pants around your ankles? My cock sprang free from her mouth with a wet pop and waved about like a toy on a spring. She giggled and reached for it again, but I grabbed her roughly and yanked hard. She squealed indignantly as her T-shirt went roughly over her head and her tits were released. "That was my ear!" she yelped. "Yeah, and this is your pussy," I noted as my groping hands found her own pants and began working at the snap. ".....well, it would be if I could get this open."
She smirked and bent forward with a hungry look in her eyes. "Better hurry, loverboy. Clock's ticking." And she engulfed me again, sucking all the way down to my balls -- how the hell did she do that? Moaning, eyes rolling wildly at the shocks that were coursing through me, I finally fumbled the snap on her pants free and pulled them down, along with her panties -- "No fair!" I gasped, already breathing hard. "I wasn't wearing any underwear, you are!" She somehow managed to giggle with her mouth full, and showed a bit of mercy by sliding around so we were now in 69 position. As she straddled my mouth, I brought my hands down hard on her ass with a loud smack. She yelped again, but this time in a good way. "God I love it when you do that," she moaned, and proved it, dripping wet and hot into my questing mouth.
I dove in headfirst....er, tongue-first. I lapped at her slit like the most delicious ice-cream cone I'd ever tasted -- except I don't think any ice-cream cone had ever been eaten with quite so much urgency. There was a race on here, after all, and I was already halfway to coming when I'd barely started on her. Fortunately, tons of practice and tons of enthusiasm has taught me how to drive her out of her skull in about three minutes. I hoped I could manage that; it was damnably hard to concentrate with her sucking my cock so enthusiastically. I could feel her humming contentedly to herself; the vibrations were making things even worse. Her breasts were pressed against my belly and I could feel the nipples poking me, turning me on even more. And she was now upping the ante by starting to work my shaft with her hands as she sucked, twisting them in opposite directions for an exquisite friction.
Still, time to keep a stiff upper lip (or cock, as the case may be) in the face of adversity! I used every trick I knew on her, licking in frantic circles around her clit, working two fingers into her pussy and spreading her wider, working her G-spot as best I could from this position, pressing the broad side of my tongue against her clit and rippling it, and generally making as much noise and mayhem as I could. She was making things more difficult by thrashing about, and spanking her wasn't getting her to sit still, it was making her thrash more. Plus, with every smack she would suck harder on me, inciting moans of my own, or squeeze my cock, or drool some more hot wetness over my length. I could feel my balls getting ready to boil over and needed to do something quickly to finish her before she finished me.
In desperation, I worked a third finger inside her and captured her clit with my lips, squeezing it very gently and flicking my tonguetip back and forth across it very very softly -- not too much now! She moaned gutturally around my cock and let it flop free for a second to release a growling, shaking moan, coming somewhere from deep inside her. I could tell she was close and increased the pressure just a bit.
I shouldn't have done that. I heard some words I could barely recognize as "oh, no you don't" and no sooner had I heard that than she was sucking hard, up and down, on the head of my cock while simultaneously twist-massaging it with rippling hands. There was no way I could withstand that. I grunted like the animal she'd reduced me to and seconds later she was spluttering happily as I flooded her hungry mouth with my come. I could feel drops and strings of it mixing with her saliva and pooling on my belly as she worked me with her hand and sucked the last dregs free.
"You beat me," I gasped, "but there is a prize for second in this race!" I redoubled my assault on her clit with mouth and tongue, pulled my fingers free of her and began raining slaps on her ass, hard, both hands one after the other. Very soon she too was grunting and moaning as she splashed all over my face, coming in second in the race but with a clear victory by forcing me into first. A strange race, to be sure.
Eventually she rolled off me, smirking at me with a patently obvious "you lose!" look on her face. And promptly crowed about her victory, putting her hand up to her forehead and making an "L" shape. "Loser! Loser!" she intoned in her best impression of the Top Gear hosts. I knew I'd have to put up with it for quite a while, but somehow I didn't mind very much. I'd find a way to win the next round.
-- PB
[[Inspired by Miss Sexie Sadie's recent story "Countdown". This one, however, is fiction. I wanted to have a bit of silly fun with the idea of a rush to orgasm.]]
Lying on the couch, I watched her working at the computer, angrily brushing tendrils of black hair out of her face. She bit at her lower lip in that way that signified frustration for her but always turned me on.
"What is it, hon?" I asked. "You look annoyed. Well, more annoyed than usual when you're working."
She shook her head. "I need a break but I can't. Too damn much to get done."
"What, not even ten minutes?"
She glanced at me and her mouth quirked. "Get that look off your face, you know I haven't got time for that."
"Oh, come on," I grinned. "There's always time for that."
She made a show of giving it some thought, but I recognized the signs very well. Deeper breathing, wider pupils, shifting her legs in her seat. Her brain had already shifted into that gear and was accelerating down that road. "Okay, ten minutes. But no more than that."
"Well, if you're going to be that draconic about it, why not make it into a race?" I suggested, getting off the couch and moving towards her. She stood, too, and her arms went around me, pulling me close. "First one to get off is the winner?"
"Perfect," she smiled. "Even though we're both winners when that is going on."
"True enough. Well, do you want a countdown, or what?"
She cocked an eye skywards, thinking, and then nodded, licking her lips.
I made a great production of resetting the timer function on my wristwatch, cleared my throat, and began the countdown with much pomp and circumstance and my best stadium announcer voice. "TEN! NIIIINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX!........"
As I hit "five," though, she dropped to her knees and with one swift motion had my jeans around my ankles. My cock, half-hard already, bounced free, almost hitting her in the face, and without any further ado she was doing her best impression of a wet-dry vacuum. "Hey!" I squeaked. "No fair! Flying start! Disqualified!" She ignored me magnificently, sucking me with a fervor I'd rarely seen, slurping and slobbering on my cock like there was a deadline to meet. Which I guess there was.
"Oh, the hell with it," I groaned, and staggered backwards, falling on my ass with a crash. Very undignified, but how dignified can you be with your pants around your ankles? My cock sprang free from her mouth with a wet pop and waved about like a toy on a spring. She giggled and reached for it again, but I grabbed her roughly and yanked hard. She squealed indignantly as her T-shirt went roughly over her head and her tits were released. "That was my ear!" she yelped. "Yeah, and this is your pussy," I noted as my groping hands found her own pants and began working at the snap. ".....well, it would be if I could get this open."
She smirked and bent forward with a hungry look in her eyes. "Better hurry, loverboy. Clock's ticking." And she engulfed me again, sucking all the way down to my balls -- how the hell did she do that? Moaning, eyes rolling wildly at the shocks that were coursing through me, I finally fumbled the snap on her pants free and pulled them down, along with her panties -- "No fair!" I gasped, already breathing hard. "I wasn't wearing any underwear, you are!" She somehow managed to giggle with her mouth full, and showed a bit of mercy by sliding around so we were now in 69 position. As she straddled my mouth, I brought my hands down hard on her ass with a loud smack. She yelped again, but this time in a good way. "God I love it when you do that," she moaned, and proved it, dripping wet and hot into my questing mouth.
I dove in headfirst....er, tongue-first. I lapped at her slit like the most delicious ice-cream cone I'd ever tasted -- except I don't think any ice-cream cone had ever been eaten with quite so much urgency. There was a race on here, after all, and I was already halfway to coming when I'd barely started on her. Fortunately, tons of practice and tons of enthusiasm has taught me how to drive her out of her skull in about three minutes. I hoped I could manage that; it was damnably hard to concentrate with her sucking my cock so enthusiastically. I could feel her humming contentedly to herself; the vibrations were making things even worse. Her breasts were pressed against my belly and I could feel the nipples poking me, turning me on even more. And she was now upping the ante by starting to work my shaft with her hands as she sucked, twisting them in opposite directions for an exquisite friction.
Still, time to keep a stiff upper lip (or cock, as the case may be) in the face of adversity! I used every trick I knew on her, licking in frantic circles around her clit, working two fingers into her pussy and spreading her wider, working her G-spot as best I could from this position, pressing the broad side of my tongue against her clit and rippling it, and generally making as much noise and mayhem as I could. She was making things more difficult by thrashing about, and spanking her wasn't getting her to sit still, it was making her thrash more. Plus, with every smack she would suck harder on me, inciting moans of my own, or squeeze my cock, or drool some more hot wetness over my length. I could feel my balls getting ready to boil over and needed to do something quickly to finish her before she finished me.
In desperation, I worked a third finger inside her and captured her clit with my lips, squeezing it very gently and flicking my tonguetip back and forth across it very very softly -- not too much now! She moaned gutturally around my cock and let it flop free for a second to release a growling, shaking moan, coming somewhere from deep inside her. I could tell she was close and increased the pressure just a bit.
I shouldn't have done that. I heard some words I could barely recognize as "oh, no you don't" and no sooner had I heard that than she was sucking hard, up and down, on the head of my cock while simultaneously twist-massaging it with rippling hands. There was no way I could withstand that. I grunted like the animal she'd reduced me to and seconds later she was spluttering happily as I flooded her hungry mouth with my come. I could feel drops and strings of it mixing with her saliva and pooling on my belly as she worked me with her hand and sucked the last dregs free.
"You beat me," I gasped, "but there is a prize for second in this race!" I redoubled my assault on her clit with mouth and tongue, pulled my fingers free of her and began raining slaps on her ass, hard, both hands one after the other. Very soon she too was grunting and moaning as she splashed all over my face, coming in second in the race but with a clear victory by forcing me into first. A strange race, to be sure.
Eventually she rolled off me, smirking at me with a patently obvious "you lose!" look on her face. And promptly crowed about her victory, putting her hand up to her forehead and making an "L" shape. "Loser! Loser!" she intoned in her best impression of the Top Gear hosts. I knew I'd have to put up with it for quite a while, but somehow I didn't mind very much. I'd find a way to win the next round.
-- PB
[[Inspired by Miss Sexie Sadie's recent story "Countdown". This one, however, is fiction. I wanted to have a bit of silly fun with the idea of a rush to orgasm.]]
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
TMI Tuesday #204
It's TMI Tuesday again! More boring answers from yours truly.
1. Have you ever shared sleeping accommodations with someone of the _______ without anything steamy happening? ("Opposite sex" for breeders, "same sex" for homosexuals).
Yes, and it's one of the great regrets of my (sex) life. This was a girl who'd told me several times that she had a crush on me and had come over one evening specifically to hang out, drink, and watch movies; when it got late she even asked if I'd mind if she stayed the night. Hello, stupid, pick up the signals! She had a fabulous rack, too. So why the hell didn't I do anything when we went to bed? I still do not know! There was some snuggling, and some sleepy fondling, but it never went beyond that.
A few weeks after that, probably annoyed at me, she began dating someone and is now happily married to him. I was delighted for her, but am still pissed that I never took the swing when I had the chance.
2. Have you ever streaked, flashed, or otherwise partially or totally exposed yourself in public before (or after) an informal, unofficial gathering of people?
Hell, no. I may fantasize about sex in public but I would probably wuss out if the opportunity to streak or flash someone ever arose. I'm just not that much of a sharer. :)
3. Have you had dates with multiple people in the same weekend (or consecutive nights or the same night) while not all of your dates were aware of your actions?
I always had difficulty enough just dating one person. Multiples would have strained my abilities. I'm more open to the idea now but I'm still not the sort who's popular enough to hook up every night with a different woman.
4. What is the most "romantic" you have ever gotten in a movie theater?
Holding hands and occasionally kissing, see above re: sex in public.
5. Have you ever had sex when you knew a non-participating adult was watching?
No, but this one is very high on the fantasy list. I kind of get off on the idea of somebody else watching us and getting turned on by it. Of course, I'd have to find a partner who was up for it as well.....
Bonus (as in optional): If you could say anything you wanted anonymously to anyone, without identifying that person, what would you say?
I'd like to have a threesome with you and another woman, or possibly you and another man if you preferred that. (I've become more bi-curious as I've gotten older).
-- PB
1. Have you ever shared sleeping accommodations with someone of the _______ without anything steamy happening? ("Opposite sex" for breeders, "same sex" for homosexuals).
Yes, and it's one of the great regrets of my (sex) life. This was a girl who'd told me several times that she had a crush on me and had come over one evening specifically to hang out, drink, and watch movies; when it got late she even asked if I'd mind if she stayed the night. Hello, stupid, pick up the signals! She had a fabulous rack, too. So why the hell didn't I do anything when we went to bed? I still do not know! There was some snuggling, and some sleepy fondling, but it never went beyond that.
A few weeks after that, probably annoyed at me, she began dating someone and is now happily married to him. I was delighted for her, but am still pissed that I never took the swing when I had the chance.
2. Have you ever streaked, flashed, or otherwise partially or totally exposed yourself in public before (or after) an informal, unofficial gathering of people?
Hell, no. I may fantasize about sex in public but I would probably wuss out if the opportunity to streak or flash someone ever arose. I'm just not that much of a sharer. :)
3. Have you had dates with multiple people in the same weekend (or consecutive nights or the same night) while not all of your dates were aware of your actions?
I always had difficulty enough just dating one person. Multiples would have strained my abilities. I'm more open to the idea now but I'm still not the sort who's popular enough to hook up every night with a different woman.
4. What is the most "romantic" you have ever gotten in a movie theater?
Holding hands and occasionally kissing, see above re: sex in public.
5. Have you ever had sex when you knew a non-participating adult was watching?
No, but this one is very high on the fantasy list. I kind of get off on the idea of somebody else watching us and getting turned on by it. Of course, I'd have to find a partner who was up for it as well.....
Bonus (as in optional): If you could say anything you wanted anonymously to anyone, without identifying that person, what would you say?
I'd like to have a threesome with you and another woman, or possibly you and another man if you preferred that. (I've become more bi-curious as I've gotten older).
-- PB
Two New Words
Always Aroused Girl has had a discussion with one of her friends about how there are two kinds of people who sleep around -- those who do it because they're being self-destructive and damaging, and those who do it because they want to have lots of fun and get off as much as they can. You should go read it, and then chime in on the comments to help suggest words that can be used for each of the two kinds of people.
Me, I favor "slut" as a positive word (and have ever since women like Sars of Tomato Nation began attempting to reclaim it, years ago). That leaves the question of what to use for a negative; myself, I prefer "whore" as a negative. Why? I've just never liked it. It sounds ugly, it has negative connotations all over the place, it curls your mouth into an unpleasant shape when you say it -- ugh, no, I just don't like the word.
Anyway, go read the post over at AAG's site and then contribute your own suggestions!
-- PB
Me, I favor "slut" as a positive word (and have ever since women like Sars of Tomato Nation began attempting to reclaim it, years ago). That leaves the question of what to use for a negative; myself, I prefer "whore" as a negative. Why? I've just never liked it. It sounds ugly, it has negative connotations all over the place, it curls your mouth into an unpleasant shape when you say it -- ugh, no, I just don't like the word.
Anyway, go read the post over at AAG's site and then contribute your own suggestions!
-- PB
"Capriccio" now up at Erotic Flash Fiction
Good morning. I've another contribution up at Spanky and Tiggs's Erotic Flash Fiction; this one a short piece prompted by a random word and entitled "Capriccio". Go check it out, what what?
The site seems to be getting some more attention lately, with more people linking back to it from here, there, and everywhere. That can't be anything but good, but more readers are always welcome. Tell your friends!
-- PB
The site seems to be getting some more attention lately, with more people linking back to it from here, there, and everywhere. That can't be anything but good, but more readers are always welcome. Tell your friends!
-- PB
Monday, September 14, 2009
Isn't it a great time to be a sex maniac?
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Friday, September 11, 2009
How much do you share with those you follow?
Communication should always be two-way, of course, but sometimes you wonder how much you should be sharing.
Here's what I mean. I created this site because I don't really have anyone to talk to about my fantasies, my sex life, my wild side, my dirty thoughts and so forth. Sharing with the world at large, as long as I'm anonymous, seemed a good solution. And I love to hear from the people who've found me here, and seem to like what I write. It's flattering and very much a turn-on to hear that I'm making you wet and hot (if you're female) or nice and hard (if you're a guy).
I wonder, though, for those of you who're much more popular, how do you deal with your own fan mail?
See, I will happily read all comments left here, or emails sent to me. I welcome ALL thoughts, no matter how nasty or depraved you think they might be. But I do tend to hold back when sending comments to others, to those whose work I admire. I have to believe that the women whose writings I peruse periodically are positively flooded with admiring missives from the drooling, mouth-breathing perverts out there, and so why should I send them a note telling them how hot I think they are and how hard they make me and how much they turn me on? They've heard it before, I figure, and they probably don't want to hear it from a total stranger. Not to mention the fact that I'm contacting them with a missive like that just shows me up as being just another one of the drooling, mouth-breathing perverts that I despise. You know the ones -- no sense of sensuality or romance, no sense of propriety, no sense of boundaries, no sense of what's appropriate and what's not, and most importantly no sense of what the word "no" means. Incredible.
On the other hand....a few ladies that I've contacted through comments or emails since I started reading their stories tell me in no uncertain terms that they love to hear from fans, love to hear they're being worshiped, love to find out exactly how their hot writings are affecting their audience in general (and in one very nice case, me in particular). Maybe they're in the minority. Maybe not. All I know is that I generally try to keep my comments on your site to the generally-friendly-but-not-graphic, as well as my emails to you directly. I'm never quite sure what you want to hear, after all.
But here? This is my site, my own place of power. Here, I can stand on the rooftops and shout how much your writings turn me on. I can tell you in dirty detail how I was stroking myself while reading one of your stories, making a business-related phone call while I pictured how I would fuck you if you were right here, losing track of the work I was doing because I kept returning to that hot HNT photo you posted and my cock just wouldn't be ignored. Here, I can tell you exactly how hard I am after reading a recent entry on your site, how my shorts are tented obscenely out, how I'm undoing them even now and reaching inside to squeeze myself, standing up tall and proud, angry purple head already dripping pearls of precum all over the place. Here, I can tell you how much I love to flog myself relentlessly while checking out your site, imagining all the naughty things I'd do to you, finally coming so hard that I spurt onto my own shoulder, ending up in a sweaty, sticky mess.
Am I talking about you? Of course I am. You know who you are. And if you don't, just ask. I'm always willing to share....as long as I know you're asking for it.
I'm a gentleman that way -- even if in no other ways.
-- PB
Here's what I mean. I created this site because I don't really have anyone to talk to about my fantasies, my sex life, my wild side, my dirty thoughts and so forth. Sharing with the world at large, as long as I'm anonymous, seemed a good solution. And I love to hear from the people who've found me here, and seem to like what I write. It's flattering and very much a turn-on to hear that I'm making you wet and hot (if you're female) or nice and hard (if you're a guy).
I wonder, though, for those of you who're much more popular, how do you deal with your own fan mail?
See, I will happily read all comments left here, or emails sent to me. I welcome ALL thoughts, no matter how nasty or depraved you think they might be. But I do tend to hold back when sending comments to others, to those whose work I admire. I have to believe that the women whose writings I peruse periodically are positively flooded with admiring missives from the drooling, mouth-breathing perverts out there, and so why should I send them a note telling them how hot I think they are and how hard they make me and how much they turn me on? They've heard it before, I figure, and they probably don't want to hear it from a total stranger. Not to mention the fact that I'm contacting them with a missive like that just shows me up as being just another one of the drooling, mouth-breathing perverts that I despise. You know the ones -- no sense of sensuality or romance, no sense of propriety, no sense of boundaries, no sense of what's appropriate and what's not, and most importantly no sense of what the word "no" means. Incredible.
On the other hand....a few ladies that I've contacted through comments or emails since I started reading their stories tell me in no uncertain terms that they love to hear from fans, love to hear they're being worshiped, love to find out exactly how their hot writings are affecting their audience in general (and in one very nice case, me in particular). Maybe they're in the minority. Maybe not. All I know is that I generally try to keep my comments on your site to the generally-friendly-but-not-graphic, as well as my emails to you directly. I'm never quite sure what you want to hear, after all.
But here? This is my site, my own place of power. Here, I can stand on the rooftops and shout how much your writings turn me on. I can tell you in dirty detail how I was stroking myself while reading one of your stories, making a business-related phone call while I pictured how I would fuck you if you were right here, losing track of the work I was doing because I kept returning to that hot HNT photo you posted and my cock just wouldn't be ignored. Here, I can tell you exactly how hard I am after reading a recent entry on your site, how my shorts are tented obscenely out, how I'm undoing them even now and reaching inside to squeeze myself, standing up tall and proud, angry purple head already dripping pearls of precum all over the place. Here, I can tell you how much I love to flog myself relentlessly while checking out your site, imagining all the naughty things I'd do to you, finally coming so hard that I spurt onto my own shoulder, ending up in a sweaty, sticky mess.
Am I talking about you? Of course I am. You know who you are. And if you don't, just ask. I'm always willing to share....as long as I know you're asking for it.
I'm a gentleman that way -- even if in no other ways.
-- PB
Flash Fiction Friday #3: Bill, the Construction Worker
Bill's eyes bulged and he dropped his Gatorade bottle, orange spraying unheeded on his jeans. "You said what?" he managed to get out.
"I said I'd really like to have your cock in my mouth," she replied. Sweetly, musically, devilishly.
He shot a glance at his coworkers, one of whom had gone beet red and the other bone white. "Um, well, we're heading to lunch in a bit. I guess...."
"Good," she said, grabbed his hand, and began dragging him off to the cool recesses of the concrete maze behind him. Strangely, he didn't seem at all reluctant to go.....
[[This is my entry for Spanky's Flash Fiction Friday challenge #3. You want to play too (of course you do), so why not head over there and check it out?]]
-- PB
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Getting Her in Trouble
So my girlfriend was on the phone with her department head recently. Because they get on very well with each other, the conversations tend to go on a long time. I was reading a book, but I looked at her lying there on the couch, talking away, and suddenly had a devilish thought. She raised one eyebrow at the grin that spread over my face, but before she could do anything I was tugging at her jeans, pulling them off along with her panties and tossing them on the floor nearby.
She shook her head, smiling at my temerity, and lay back against the armrest at my silent direction. I sprawled out on the couch, raised her legs up over my shoulders, and began lavishing her pussy with my tongue's attention. Long loving licks, gentle swipes across her lips, upwards and downwards, sliding along the edges and then gently teasing her folds apart. Running my tonguetip along her slit, working it a little bit deeper, then retreating to lick along her thighs for a bit before returning to her pussy. Tasting her spicy excitement, feeling her juices start to flow, watching them mix with my saliva and drip down onto the sofa. Hooray for Scotchgard.
Soon my tongue was moving in slow circles around her clit, slipping from side to side in a way I knew she liked. Her breath was coming faster but astonishingly she hadn't given herself away yet, though her free hand was now winding restlessly through my hair or occasionally slipping down to grab hard at the couch cushions. Every so often I would use the broad rough side of my tongue to lick in long strokes from the very bottom of her pussy, slowly, all the way up to her clit, and then undulate it against her button until she bucked her hips hard against me.
I was noticing now that she was speaking less and less; perhaps because I was driving her to distraction. That wasn't enough for me, though, so I slipped two fingers inside her (now quite soaked, yes), crooked them in a "come hither" fashion, and began rubbing her from the inside out as I continued to slurp quietly at her clit. I closed both my lips over it and licked very delicately at it from the top, and she writhed against my mouth and fingers, a soft sigh drifting from her.
But still she hadn't really given herself away. Worse, I could tell she was getting near the end of her conversation, and she hadn't come yet. I sat up and quickly had my own pants pulled off and thrown aside, then settled on top of her, probing at her cunt lips with my aching cock, rubbing against her sopping slit and tickling her clit with the head. She threw back her head for a moment and grinned as I sank into her. I wanted to pound her hard, but I held back, sliding in and out in a nice slow steady rhythm, watching my cock emerge glistening with her juices, then disappear into her clenching wet depths again.
"Okay, Lisa, I'll talk to you later," she finally said, and hung up. "YOU!" she smirked as her arms went round my neck. "Just what the hell did you think you were doing?"
I looked down to where I was still plunging in and out of her, much faster now that she wasn't on the phone anymore. "I thought that was fairly obvious, my dear," I answered, and began to fuck her in earnest as she moaned and her hips began rising to meet me, our bodies smacking together in that delicious rhythm that ended only when we came, hard, several excruciating minutes later.
"One of these days, I will get you to give yourself away," I remarked once I'd got my breath back. She raised an eyebrow again, pulling on her underwear and pants. "No, you won't. But you can have fun trying."
Well, you can't ask for more than that, can you?
-- PB
She shook her head, smiling at my temerity, and lay back against the armrest at my silent direction. I sprawled out on the couch, raised her legs up over my shoulders, and began lavishing her pussy with my tongue's attention. Long loving licks, gentle swipes across her lips, upwards and downwards, sliding along the edges and then gently teasing her folds apart. Running my tonguetip along her slit, working it a little bit deeper, then retreating to lick along her thighs for a bit before returning to her pussy. Tasting her spicy excitement, feeling her juices start to flow, watching them mix with my saliva and drip down onto the sofa. Hooray for Scotchgard.
Soon my tongue was moving in slow circles around her clit, slipping from side to side in a way I knew she liked. Her breath was coming faster but astonishingly she hadn't given herself away yet, though her free hand was now winding restlessly through my hair or occasionally slipping down to grab hard at the couch cushions. Every so often I would use the broad rough side of my tongue to lick in long strokes from the very bottom of her pussy, slowly, all the way up to her clit, and then undulate it against her button until she bucked her hips hard against me.
I was noticing now that she was speaking less and less; perhaps because I was driving her to distraction. That wasn't enough for me, though, so I slipped two fingers inside her (now quite soaked, yes), crooked them in a "come hither" fashion, and began rubbing her from the inside out as I continued to slurp quietly at her clit. I closed both my lips over it and licked very delicately at it from the top, and she writhed against my mouth and fingers, a soft sigh drifting from her.
But still she hadn't really given herself away. Worse, I could tell she was getting near the end of her conversation, and she hadn't come yet. I sat up and quickly had my own pants pulled off and thrown aside, then settled on top of her, probing at her cunt lips with my aching cock, rubbing against her sopping slit and tickling her clit with the head. She threw back her head for a moment and grinned as I sank into her. I wanted to pound her hard, but I held back, sliding in and out in a nice slow steady rhythm, watching my cock emerge glistening with her juices, then disappear into her clenching wet depths again.
"Okay, Lisa, I'll talk to you later," she finally said, and hung up. "YOU!" she smirked as her arms went round my neck. "Just what the hell did you think you were doing?"
I looked down to where I was still plunging in and out of her, much faster now that she wasn't on the phone anymore. "I thought that was fairly obvious, my dear," I answered, and began to fuck her in earnest as she moaned and her hips began rising to meet me, our bodies smacking together in that delicious rhythm that ended only when we came, hard, several excruciating minutes later.
"One of these days, I will get you to give yourself away," I remarked once I'd got my breath back. She raised an eyebrow again, pulling on her underwear and pants. "No, you won't. But you can have fun trying."
Well, you can't ask for more than that, can you?
-- PB
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Two more additions to the watchlist
Wanted to talk a bit about two more sexy writers that've caught my attention recently. Both of them are smart, capable and self-confident. Both are very open and frank about exploring their sexuality and enjoying their sex lives. And both have entertaining handles.
The first is the entertaingly-named "Sex, Chocolate and Red Lipstick". Written by a lovely blonde English lass named Amy, somebody who knows the value of a finely-crafted phrase. Amy understands that intelligence and a dry wit are enormous turn-ons, at least to those of us who like brains with our beauty. And she's got plenty of brains to round out the beautiful package. Plus, she's English, how can you not love that? Brit accents are hot.
Secondly is the intriguing Coquitten, who takes her name from a portmanteau of the words "coquette" and "kitten". She does define "coquette" for those who aren't in the know, but clearly expects that her audience is going to be smart enough to already know what it means. She, like Amy, writes smart, well-crafted observations on dating and the sexual situations she gets into. Caught my attention with a post entitled "I Think I'd Rather Misbehave", which is insanely hot. Also posts lovely HNT photos.
Go check them out, won't you?
-- PB
The first is the entertaingly-named "Sex, Chocolate and Red Lipstick". Written by a lovely blonde English lass named Amy, somebody who knows the value of a finely-crafted phrase. Amy understands that intelligence and a dry wit are enormous turn-ons, at least to those of us who like brains with our beauty. And she's got plenty of brains to round out the beautiful package. Plus, she's English, how can you not love that? Brit accents are hot.
Secondly is the intriguing Coquitten, who takes her name from a portmanteau of the words "coquette" and "kitten". She does define "coquette" for those who aren't in the know, but clearly expects that her audience is going to be smart enough to already know what it means. She, like Amy, writes smart, well-crafted observations on dating and the sexual situations she gets into. Caught my attention with a post entitled "I Think I'd Rather Misbehave", which is insanely hot. Also posts lovely HNT photos.
Go check them out, won't you?
-- PB
Hey, Fleshbot has noticed me!
The fantastic Always Aroused Girl was kind enough to link to my recent entry "Drifting and Dreaming" in the most recent Sex Blog Roundup on Fleshbot. Thanks to those who're stopping by via that link, and thanks to AAG for the pimpage.
-- PB
-- PB
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Various Positions
I had planned to write up something about jealousy, open relationships, and the idea of being pleased by your partner's pleasure even if you aren't the one pleasing them just at the moment. A nice philosophical discussion to have over a beer or two at the local pub, perhaps.
But the words wouldn't come, so instead I'm going to talk about some of the sexual positions I love the most. Ladies, this is how I like to fuck you.
Cowgirl: I love this position because I get to see your entire delectable body, and because you get to control how you're getting fucked. You can control the depth and angle of my penetration, and I get rewarded with a first-class view of your tits, your hair spilling over your shoulders, your hips moving in slow circles, and your face alternately looking down at me or thrown back in ecstasy. You can still my motions by placing a hand on my chest, or use both hands to push yourself up and down, practically hoppping up and down on my cock; you can lean back and use my legs as support, sliding more forward and back than up and down; you can reach one hand down and diddle yourself while you use me as a toy to get yourself off. Mmmmm. Not to mention the fact that your round ass curves out so nicely and positively begs me to smack it a few times as you ride me.
Me on top, you with your legs over my shoulder: I like this one because it lets me get very, very deep inside you. It also makes for smoking hot eye contact. It's good for excruciatingly slow, grinding sessions, when the pleasure goes on and on and our bodies are slick with sweat. You're gasping and moaning and begging me to go even deeper, and I do, sliding so far inside that I feel like I'm going to vanish, before pulling out and then sliding home with another grindingly slow stroke. Delicious.
Standing up, against a wall: This kind of sex is just smokingly, flash-fire-inducingly hot. It's so arousing when we've been out on the town, whispering naughty things in each others' ears, hands roaming below the waist quite a few times until you're soaking through your dress and I'm leaving precome spots on my jeans. At times like those there is nothing, NOTHING quite like opening the door at home, slamming it closed, tearing clothing aside and off, and pounding into you within seconds. Pants and boxers around my ankles, your dress hiked up or ripped asunder, your panties down around one ankle or just shoved to the side. You've got a leg hooked over and around my ass, your hands are clutching at my back, I'm biting lightly at your shoulder and neck as I thrust up and into you, fucking you until we both come, screaming, and sag to the floor.
Doggy-style: Where to start? There're just so many things about this that I love. The feeling of power as you drop to all fours, waggling your ass at me, telling me "Come and get me". Grabbing your hair lightly and pulling your head back as I fuck you. The round globes of your ass, so soft against my hard cock, so ripe and full for spanking. Reaching around to squeeze your tits as I jackhammer into you. Kneeling there perfectly still as you thrust yourself back at me, trying to get me deeper, fucking yourself onto me as I bite my lip and try hard not to come like a volcano all over your back and ass. And it's even hotter if there's a mirror nearby and we can watch ourselves, watch how completely and totally I'm making you mine, watch how I mold your body with mine, watch your tits swaying and my hands clenching on your ass, rising for a slap to give you that shock of pain with the pleasure.
Reverse cowgirl, in a chair: I once had a girlfriend quietly disrobe while I was working at the computer, then without a word come around to my front, suck me hard, and then settle down onto my cock, still wordlessly. Here it's the woman who has the power, but having you so close on top of me allows me to put both arms around you, to fondle your breasts, nip lightly at your neck, use my fingers on your clit, or just lift and drop you over and over to help you get me even deeper.
There are thousands that I love. Variety is the spice of life, but there are just some that I come back to over and over. I will never get tired of taking a woman from behind, or of seeing her bounce up and down atop me, or any of the thousand variations on each.
How about you? What is it that really gets you hot, that turns your crank like no other? What positions are guaranteed to make you come like a banshee?
-- PB
But the words wouldn't come, so instead I'm going to talk about some of the sexual positions I love the most. Ladies, this is how I like to fuck you.
Cowgirl: I love this position because I get to see your entire delectable body, and because you get to control how you're getting fucked. You can control the depth and angle of my penetration, and I get rewarded with a first-class view of your tits, your hair spilling over your shoulders, your hips moving in slow circles, and your face alternately looking down at me or thrown back in ecstasy. You can still my motions by placing a hand on my chest, or use both hands to push yourself up and down, practically hoppping up and down on my cock; you can lean back and use my legs as support, sliding more forward and back than up and down; you can reach one hand down and diddle yourself while you use me as a toy to get yourself off. Mmmmm. Not to mention the fact that your round ass curves out so nicely and positively begs me to smack it a few times as you ride me.
Me on top, you with your legs over my shoulder: I like this one because it lets me get very, very deep inside you. It also makes for smoking hot eye contact. It's good for excruciatingly slow, grinding sessions, when the pleasure goes on and on and our bodies are slick with sweat. You're gasping and moaning and begging me to go even deeper, and I do, sliding so far inside that I feel like I'm going to vanish, before pulling out and then sliding home with another grindingly slow stroke. Delicious.
Standing up, against a wall: This kind of sex is just smokingly, flash-fire-inducingly hot. It's so arousing when we've been out on the town, whispering naughty things in each others' ears, hands roaming below the waist quite a few times until you're soaking through your dress and I'm leaving precome spots on my jeans. At times like those there is nothing, NOTHING quite like opening the door at home, slamming it closed, tearing clothing aside and off, and pounding into you within seconds. Pants and boxers around my ankles, your dress hiked up or ripped asunder, your panties down around one ankle or just shoved to the side. You've got a leg hooked over and around my ass, your hands are clutching at my back, I'm biting lightly at your shoulder and neck as I thrust up and into you, fucking you until we both come, screaming, and sag to the floor.
Doggy-style: Where to start? There're just so many things about this that I love. The feeling of power as you drop to all fours, waggling your ass at me, telling me "Come and get me". Grabbing your hair lightly and pulling your head back as I fuck you. The round globes of your ass, so soft against my hard cock, so ripe and full for spanking. Reaching around to squeeze your tits as I jackhammer into you. Kneeling there perfectly still as you thrust yourself back at me, trying to get me deeper, fucking yourself onto me as I bite my lip and try hard not to come like a volcano all over your back and ass. And it's even hotter if there's a mirror nearby and we can watch ourselves, watch how completely and totally I'm making you mine, watch how I mold your body with mine, watch your tits swaying and my hands clenching on your ass, rising for a slap to give you that shock of pain with the pleasure.
Reverse cowgirl, in a chair: I once had a girlfriend quietly disrobe while I was working at the computer, then without a word come around to my front, suck me hard, and then settle down onto my cock, still wordlessly. Here it's the woman who has the power, but having you so close on top of me allows me to put both arms around you, to fondle your breasts, nip lightly at your neck, use my fingers on your clit, or just lift and drop you over and over to help you get me even deeper.
There are thousands that I love. Variety is the spice of life, but there are just some that I come back to over and over. I will never get tired of taking a woman from behind, or of seeing her bounce up and down atop me, or any of the thousand variations on each.
How about you? What is it that really gets you hot, that turns your crank like no other? What positions are guaranteed to make you come like a banshee?
-- PB
TMI Tuesday
Good lord, you people were busy over the Labor Day weekend. You've all got me squirming in my chair, trying to ignore the precome soaking through my shorts. And the Cock Tale I'm working on for Luna Mauvaise doesn't help any. I suspect there will be a beat-off session before too much longer....
Well, here's this week's TMI Tuesday!
1) If you were to only live until the age of 50, how would you live your life differently?
I'd take a lot more chances than I do now. I tend to be very timid about some things, which is part of the reason I created this journal -- to test and explore my limits on sex.
2) Are you settling in your job/career?
Not sure whether this means "settling for too little" or whether it means "settling in comfortably". Probably the latter, in which case the answer is "no, I'm not happy with what I'm doing and I am actively working to change it".
3) Are you settling with your significant other?
Still not sure what "settling" means; again, I'm assuming it means "settling in comfortably". Six months ago I would have said yes. Now there are problems with the relationship and I'm trying to work them out -- when I can get her to talk to me, that is.
4) How important is your family?
Put simply, they are everything to me. They are the people for whom I would sacrifice everything I had without a moment's thought.
5) If you caught a neighbor peeping in at you while you were naked or having sex, would you close the blinds? (assuming you live in a city and can see into other buildings).
Years ago I would have said yes, but now I find the idea of being seen nude or having sex to be rather a turn-on. I think I'd leave them open. That would largely depend on my partner, though; my girlfriend would be likely to object.
Want to play too? Hit up TMI Tuesday for the questions, or just copy them from me.
There will be more content a bit later today as I've been musing over quite a few things with respect to relationships. Hope everyone had a great Labor Day weekend.
-- PB
Well, here's this week's TMI Tuesday!
1) If you were to only live until the age of 50, how would you live your life differently?
I'd take a lot more chances than I do now. I tend to be very timid about some things, which is part of the reason I created this journal -- to test and explore my limits on sex.
2) Are you settling in your job/career?
Not sure whether this means "settling for too little" or whether it means "settling in comfortably". Probably the latter, in which case the answer is "no, I'm not happy with what I'm doing and I am actively working to change it".
3) Are you settling with your significant other?
Still not sure what "settling" means; again, I'm assuming it means "settling in comfortably". Six months ago I would have said yes. Now there are problems with the relationship and I'm trying to work them out -- when I can get her to talk to me, that is.
4) How important is your family?
Put simply, they are everything to me. They are the people for whom I would sacrifice everything I had without a moment's thought.
5) If you caught a neighbor peeping in at you while you were naked or having sex, would you close the blinds? (assuming you live in a city and can see into other buildings).
Years ago I would have said yes, but now I find the idea of being seen nude or having sex to be rather a turn-on. I think I'd leave them open. That would largely depend on my partner, though; my girlfriend would be likely to object.
Want to play too? Hit up TMI Tuesday for the questions, or just copy them from me.
There will be more content a bit later today as I've been musing over quite a few things with respect to relationships. Hope everyone had a great Labor Day weekend.
-- PB
Monday, September 7, 2009
Sugasm #173
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #173? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
A Hot Fuck in a Parking Lot
“We got more daring and soon clothes were a hindrance to our insistent hands.”
I Think I’d Rather Misbehave
“I bet the secret thrill of this has your cock already climbing to attention.”
The Painter
“He says something, small talk, and I stutter something back, lost in the blue depths of his eyes.”
Sugasm Editor
Strildo?
Editor’s Choice
Yet Another Reason You Should Buy a Vibrator
More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm
Erotic Poetry
Enigmatic dance
Loved It.
Erotic Writing & Experiences
24 Hours To Cum
Be Careful What You Wish For…
Desire
Embarrassed, Amused and Turned On
Helping Hand
HNT 4 (and a savoury story)
Masturbation Madness
Mornings…
A much needed fucking…
Now She’s Giving The Orders
Shopping Day
This is Lolita on drugs (2)
This Is My Remedy
The Year 39 Update
You don’t want biographical info. I know what you REALLY want.
Sex Advice
Anal Play: Fingering
Brush Up Your Orgasm
Shay’s Condom Tips
NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Burns of punishment
Famosas azotables
Fit to be Tied
Free Heidi Montag Playboy Pictures – September 2009
Learning the lesson…
Naked and Caned
BDSM & Fetish
4 Scenes
Collar, Cuffs And Clamps
Driven by lust….
Honey Pass Me the Nut Cracker
The Negress Natters: Submission.
The perfect body for three-minute porn
Sex Humor
How Many Licks?
Thoughts on Sex & Relationships
The Confession…Coming Soon
Half-Nekkid Heavenly Body
In Search of…. my Clitoris
Is this the dark side of porn?
(Mis)Adventures In Dating: Do You Know Who I Am?
Nonstop Orgasms – HER Perspective
News, Reviews & Interviews
Anal Pleasure and Health by Jack Morin
Icegasm Kit
Top Five Tuesday - Win 1000 FREE Porn Minutes
This Week’s Picks
A Hot Fuck in a Parking Lot
“We got more daring and soon clothes were a hindrance to our insistent hands.”
I Think I’d Rather Misbehave
“I bet the secret thrill of this has your cock already climbing to attention.”
The Painter
“He says something, small talk, and I stutter something back, lost in the blue depths of his eyes.”
Sugasm Editor
Strildo?
Editor’s Choice
Yet Another Reason You Should Buy a Vibrator
More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm
Erotic Poetry
Enigmatic dance
Loved It.
Erotic Writing & Experiences
24 Hours To Cum
Be Careful What You Wish For…
Desire
Embarrassed, Amused and Turned On
Helping Hand
HNT 4 (and a savoury story)
Masturbation Madness
Mornings…
A much needed fucking…
Now She’s Giving The Orders
Shopping Day
This is Lolita on drugs (2)
This Is My Remedy
The Year 39 Update
You don’t want biographical info. I know what you REALLY want.
Sex Advice
Anal Play: Fingering
Brush Up Your Orgasm
Shay’s Condom Tips
NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Burns of punishment
Famosas azotables
Fit to be Tied
Free Heidi Montag Playboy Pictures – September 2009
Learning the lesson…
Naked and Caned
BDSM & Fetish
4 Scenes
Collar, Cuffs And Clamps
Driven by lust….
Honey Pass Me the Nut Cracker
The Negress Natters: Submission.
The perfect body for three-minute porn
Sex Humor
How Many Licks?
Thoughts on Sex & Relationships
The Confession…Coming Soon
Half-Nekkid Heavenly Body
In Search of…. my Clitoris
Is this the dark side of porn?
(Mis)Adventures In Dating: Do You Know Who I Am?
Nonstop Orgasms – HER Perspective
News, Reviews & Interviews
Anal Pleasure and Health by Jack Morin
Icegasm Kit
Top Five Tuesday - Win 1000 FREE Porn Minutes
Friday, September 4, 2009
Music for Sexings
Marty Friedman, ex-Megadeth, released an album a few years back called "Music For Speeding". Listening to it today, I wondered: what kind of music do you like for SEXING?
Do you prefer the intricate strains of classical music? Perhaps some Mozart or Beethoven caressing your ears while the two (or more) of you caress each other?
Maybe you like to get down and dirty with each other with some heavy industrial playing. Fucking in a dark room with candles lit and Nine Inch Nails in the background is a hell of an experience.
Or maybe you want to go at it hard and heavy, with some pure thrash. Metallica, Rammstein, Slayer, whatever. Warning: this can cause friction burns if you don't moderate the tempo.
Perhaps you like the pure soul of Barry White or Marvin Gaye, silky smooth voices pouring like melted honey over your bodies.
And drifting amidst clouds, borne up on a tide of new age from Enya or B-Tribe, is a lovely thing. Ethereal and inchoate, you and your partner the only "real" things in the room.
Some like more musical experimentation; why not put on some classic jazz? Mahavishnu Orchestra, Branford Marsalis, Miles Davis and John Coltrane are great ways to explore music while exploring each other.
Of course, there's nothing quite like the raw emotion of the classic bluesmen like Robert Johnson, Johnny Winter, or Stevie Ray Vaughan. You might find yourself crying, or you might find you and your partner rutting like animals in heat. It depends.
If you're up for a really athletic and extended session, just cue up a couple of extended trance / electro mixes and you're set for hours. Paul van Dyk, DJ Tiesto, Orbital, the Crystal Method and Paul Oakenfold will keep you pumping till dawn -- and onward.
Maybe you just want something relentlessly cheerful. The 80s were a great time for that, so put on some Culture Club or Duran Duran and bang each other with just your leg warmers and Swatch watches on.
Or maybe you want something radio-popular. There's such a huge range here -- from Sting to Shakira, Maroon 5 and Nickelback, Peter Gabriel and Jackson Browne and more. Something for all tastes.
I like different music for different moods....or sometimes no soundtrack whatsoever. After all, the best soundtrack of all is the soundtrack you're making with your partner. Where's the fun in quiet sex? Make some noise! Cry it out! Moan and gasp and thrash and scream. Get off with that aural fixation.
-- PB
Do you prefer the intricate strains of classical music? Perhaps some Mozart or Beethoven caressing your ears while the two (or more) of you caress each other?
Maybe you like to get down and dirty with each other with some heavy industrial playing. Fucking in a dark room with candles lit and Nine Inch Nails in the background is a hell of an experience.
Or maybe you want to go at it hard and heavy, with some pure thrash. Metallica, Rammstein, Slayer, whatever. Warning: this can cause friction burns if you don't moderate the tempo.
Perhaps you like the pure soul of Barry White or Marvin Gaye, silky smooth voices pouring like melted honey over your bodies.
And drifting amidst clouds, borne up on a tide of new age from Enya or B-Tribe, is a lovely thing. Ethereal and inchoate, you and your partner the only "real" things in the room.
Some like more musical experimentation; why not put on some classic jazz? Mahavishnu Orchestra, Branford Marsalis, Miles Davis and John Coltrane are great ways to explore music while exploring each other.
Of course, there's nothing quite like the raw emotion of the classic bluesmen like Robert Johnson, Johnny Winter, or Stevie Ray Vaughan. You might find yourself crying, or you might find you and your partner rutting like animals in heat. It depends.
If you're up for a really athletic and extended session, just cue up a couple of extended trance / electro mixes and you're set for hours. Paul van Dyk, DJ Tiesto, Orbital, the Crystal Method and Paul Oakenfold will keep you pumping till dawn -- and onward.
Maybe you just want something relentlessly cheerful. The 80s were a great time for that, so put on some Culture Club or Duran Duran and bang each other with just your leg warmers and Swatch watches on.
Or maybe you want something radio-popular. There's such a huge range here -- from Sting to Shakira, Maroon 5 and Nickelback, Peter Gabriel and Jackson Browne and more. Something for all tastes.
I like different music for different moods....or sometimes no soundtrack whatsoever. After all, the best soundtrack of all is the soundtrack you're making with your partner. Where's the fun in quiet sex? Make some noise! Cry it out! Moan and gasp and thrash and scream. Get off with that aural fixation.
-- PB
Flash Fiction Friday: Looking Glass Falls
Our clothing lay, an unheeded heap, nearby. Spray from the waterfall drifted in a fine mist across our bodies as she rode me. The water was cold, but the two of us were very, very hot.
**************
This is my entry for Spanky and Tiggs's second Flash Fiction Friday, using the pic shown above as an inspiration. You want to play too? Then go check out the post for inspiration!
-- PB
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Drifting and Dreaming
Sometimes the line between reality and fantasy is veil-thin. Sometimes, in the hazy drift of REM sleep, the concrete and real is no more substantial than smoke, and the smoke of imaginings can coalesce into things you can smell, hear, taste...and feel.
It was like that last night.
More tired than I'd thought, I drifted off pretty quickly. Timeless time ticked, measuring out the minutes of my night, stretching and refolding, random neurons firing in my brain, scattering a smattering of images and scenes in my mind.
Tick...
We're in a cool green room, upon a massive canopied bed with satin sheets. My hands are grasping handfuls of those sheets as I gaze up at your lovely form, poised and sliding up and down atop my hardness. The only sounds are our deep breathing and the moist sounds of flesh calling to flesh, sensuously clasping and releasing. Slow, whisper-soft sighing, our movements excruciatingly precise, drawing out every last iota of sensation. My eyes go wide, I arch my back and lift you high, and your hair spills over your breasts in waves as you bow your head in benediction to receive my offering.
Tick...
It's late at night, on an overseas flight full of sleeping people. But neither of us is sleeping; under a concealing blanket, eager hands are busy tearing at clothing, fumbling with snaps, guiding my hard cock forward into your tight, wet tunnel. Soft moans. Short, hard thrusts. My hands cupping your tits, feeling their heft and their hard tips. Your pushing back against me, using the armrest to give us more leverage. A stop for an instant as a flight attendant walks by, giving us a knowing look. A return to our fuck with the sure and constant knowledge that when we do come, neither one of us is going to be able to keep from screaming...and not caring one bit.
Tick...
The sun beats down on my shoulders as I beat down on you. You're pinned and helpless beneath me, both of us lying on a sun pad atop the deck of our boat. Both of us are soaked, glistening with sun oil and the sweat of our exertions. It makes a wonderful lubricant as I slide back and forth atop you, in you, the waves helping me rock deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your nails digging into my back and your gasping moans are practically begging me to pound you, ravage you, leave you spent and exhausted and broken. Then you make it much plainer by spitting and snarling at me, describing in graphic terms how it's your deepest desire to be unable to walk when I'm through with you. And so I lift and spread you even further, throwing your legs up over my shoulders as I hammer into you, slamming, ramming, pleasure mounting to near-agony for us both, till finally my burning balls empty themselves in a firehose blast into your clutching cunt.
Tick...
The city spreads itself before us, a night-glittering feast all the more appetizing because of its unapproachability. Neon streaks and spangles our vision. From this 30th-floor balcony, the wind only brings us hints of the activity below: faint taxicab horns, the bass thump of cruisers on the Strip, the rush of traffic still unabated even at 2 AM. Rocking slowly and steadily inside you, I nuzzle your neck, nipping gently at your flesh, taking tiny bites, tasting the salt of your sweat. I feel you shudder against me and your pussy clenches. You bend forward a bit further, your tits spilling out of the cocktail dress that I've got hiked up above your waist, and whisper my name. I echo yours in sighing pleasure, and my hands on your ass pull you against me, my cock sliding a bit deeper this time. The wind sighs its approval as well. We make our love there on the balcony, not caring who can see, lost in the night, lost in each other.
I awoke to an empty bed and a hard cock, disappointed for a second, but grateful to have shared such lovely scenarios with you. Were they dreams, or were they reality? You decide.
-- PB
It was like that last night.
More tired than I'd thought, I drifted off pretty quickly. Timeless time ticked, measuring out the minutes of my night, stretching and refolding, random neurons firing in my brain, scattering a smattering of images and scenes in my mind.
Tick...
We're in a cool green room, upon a massive canopied bed with satin sheets. My hands are grasping handfuls of those sheets as I gaze up at your lovely form, poised and sliding up and down atop my hardness. The only sounds are our deep breathing and the moist sounds of flesh calling to flesh, sensuously clasping and releasing. Slow, whisper-soft sighing, our movements excruciatingly precise, drawing out every last iota of sensation. My eyes go wide, I arch my back and lift you high, and your hair spills over your breasts in waves as you bow your head in benediction to receive my offering.
Tick...
It's late at night, on an overseas flight full of sleeping people. But neither of us is sleeping; under a concealing blanket, eager hands are busy tearing at clothing, fumbling with snaps, guiding my hard cock forward into your tight, wet tunnel. Soft moans. Short, hard thrusts. My hands cupping your tits, feeling their heft and their hard tips. Your pushing back against me, using the armrest to give us more leverage. A stop for an instant as a flight attendant walks by, giving us a knowing look. A return to our fuck with the sure and constant knowledge that when we do come, neither one of us is going to be able to keep from screaming...and not caring one bit.
Tick...
The sun beats down on my shoulders as I beat down on you. You're pinned and helpless beneath me, both of us lying on a sun pad atop the deck of our boat. Both of us are soaked, glistening with sun oil and the sweat of our exertions. It makes a wonderful lubricant as I slide back and forth atop you, in you, the waves helping me rock deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your nails digging into my back and your gasping moans are practically begging me to pound you, ravage you, leave you spent and exhausted and broken. Then you make it much plainer by spitting and snarling at me, describing in graphic terms how it's your deepest desire to be unable to walk when I'm through with you. And so I lift and spread you even further, throwing your legs up over my shoulders as I hammer into you, slamming, ramming, pleasure mounting to near-agony for us both, till finally my burning balls empty themselves in a firehose blast into your clutching cunt.
Tick...
The city spreads itself before us, a night-glittering feast all the more appetizing because of its unapproachability. Neon streaks and spangles our vision. From this 30th-floor balcony, the wind only brings us hints of the activity below: faint taxicab horns, the bass thump of cruisers on the Strip, the rush of traffic still unabated even at 2 AM. Rocking slowly and steadily inside you, I nuzzle your neck, nipping gently at your flesh, taking tiny bites, tasting the salt of your sweat. I feel you shudder against me and your pussy clenches. You bend forward a bit further, your tits spilling out of the cocktail dress that I've got hiked up above your waist, and whisper my name. I echo yours in sighing pleasure, and my hands on your ass pull you against me, my cock sliding a bit deeper this time. The wind sighs its approval as well. We make our love there on the balcony, not caring who can see, lost in the night, lost in each other.
I awoke to an empty bed and a hard cock, disappointed for a second, but grateful to have shared such lovely scenarios with you. Were they dreams, or were they reality? You decide.
-- PB
HNT: er, no, not now, thanks.
Seeing all the lovely offerings for HNT today makes me a bit sad. I don't mind talking about my thoughts, experiences, and fantasies, but I don't believe I'll ever be to the point where I'd be comfortable with posting nekkid (or half-nekkid) photos of myself on the Interwebnets.
For one thing I'm not in the best shape. Thirty-five pounds overweight for my height, and nobody wants to see that. Women look good even when they're carrying extra weight, guys do not, in my humble opinion. For another thing, I'm firmly of the belief that one should never post anything on the Interwebs that you don't mind the entire world at large seeing. Again, I don't have a problem with putting my writings here, because I use only pseudonyms and include no real identifying info, but pictures, on the other hand, provide a wealth of info and can come back to bite you. So....for now, no HNT photos from me, I'm afraid. ***
The main reason I'm sad, though, and the main reason I'm not sharing HNT photos, is because I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and realized I'm really not happy with the way I look anymore. And that hurts a lot. See, I've never had a bodybuilder physique, even when I was regularly working out and practicing martial arts -- my frame just doesn't support it -- but I was always in good shape. And while I'm no Brad Pitt, nor am I the most well-hung guy around, for the past fifteen years I've always been quite content and comfortable with my body, my looks and the way I reflected in a mirror when nude.
Fifteen-plus years of desk work and not enough exercise, though, have eroded that on a very gradual slope, and when I saw myself today I realized I just don't like what I see. No, I'm not grossly overweight, I don't weigh 300 pounds, but I AM thirty-five pounds overweight. This is a blow on several levels -- first of all the general discontent from that, and secondly because I fought so hard with my self-image through my teenage years. (Hell, don't we all?) I was into my early 20s before I realized hey, I was pretty good-looking after all, and got to be comfortable with who and what I was. I don't feel that way anymore, though. It's time to get serious about losing this weight so I can be comfortable in my own skin again. Because really, that's the most important thing.
There will be more cheerful and sexy content here later today, because I had a nice dream last night and I think I'll share that one. Still, I wanted to get this out now, so nyah.
*** Disclaimer: I make no value judgments about those who are brave enough to post HNT photos. I have nothing but admiration for all of you. I am just not sanguine about the whole process myself. If you do want to see who's playing today, why not drop by Osbasso's to find out?
-- PB
For one thing I'm not in the best shape. Thirty-five pounds overweight for my height, and nobody wants to see that. Women look good even when they're carrying extra weight, guys do not, in my humble opinion. For another thing, I'm firmly of the belief that one should never post anything on the Interwebs that you don't mind the entire world at large seeing. Again, I don't have a problem with putting my writings here, because I use only pseudonyms and include no real identifying info, but pictures, on the other hand, provide a wealth of info and can come back to bite you. So....for now, no HNT photos from me, I'm afraid. ***
The main reason I'm sad, though, and the main reason I'm not sharing HNT photos, is because I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and realized I'm really not happy with the way I look anymore. And that hurts a lot. See, I've never had a bodybuilder physique, even when I was regularly working out and practicing martial arts -- my frame just doesn't support it -- but I was always in good shape. And while I'm no Brad Pitt, nor am I the most well-hung guy around, for the past fifteen years I've always been quite content and comfortable with my body, my looks and the way I reflected in a mirror when nude.
Fifteen-plus years of desk work and not enough exercise, though, have eroded that on a very gradual slope, and when I saw myself today I realized I just don't like what I see. No, I'm not grossly overweight, I don't weigh 300 pounds, but I AM thirty-five pounds overweight. This is a blow on several levels -- first of all the general discontent from that, and secondly because I fought so hard with my self-image through my teenage years. (Hell, don't we all?) I was into my early 20s before I realized hey, I was pretty good-looking after all, and got to be comfortable with who and what I was. I don't feel that way anymore, though. It's time to get serious about losing this weight so I can be comfortable in my own skin again. Because really, that's the most important thing.
There will be more cheerful and sexy content here later today, because I had a nice dream last night and I think I'll share that one. Still, I wanted to get this out now, so nyah.
*** Disclaimer: I make no value judgments about those who are brave enough to post HNT photos. I have nothing but admiration for all of you. I am just not sanguine about the whole process myself. If you do want to see who's playing today, why not drop by Osbasso's to find out?
-- PB
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Backhanded (inaugural posting at Erotic Flash Fiction)
I've just put up my first entry at Spanky's new group journal Erotic Flash Fiction. It's called Backhanded and is the result of a random word choice. Go check it out, won't you?
-- PB
-- PB
Reviews of two writers who're new to my watchlist
Yay me -- I'm now a contributor at Spanky's new hivemind offering, "Erotic Flash Fiction". I had so much fun with the concept last Friday that I'm going to be tossing out other short offerings over at the EFF journal. Look for the first one later this afternoon.
One of the things I plan to do here is to provide mini-reviews of the other hot sites and hot writers that I discover as I wander about the erotic Internets. Today's recent discoveries are twofold, both here on Blogger. One is very recent, like my own; the other has been around since April. They're both worth reading.
The first is the very enchanting "La Damnation de Luna Mauvaise", by (you guessed it) Luna Mauvaise. It is immediately apparent when reading her entries that this is a writer of considerable talent. She has a quicksilver, effortless style, with impeccable grammar and spelling and a not-inconsiderable vocabulary. It's certainly a far cry from many of the first-grade level scribblings to be found on a lot of the "sex blogs" out there, and it's delightful. As are the stories she posts. Delicious fantasies, lazy recollections, steamy musings, poetic ramblings -- this is a journal worth reading, and she's on my watchlist now. The French language splashed here and there adds that touch of forbidden fruit -- Babelfish is never quite an accurate translation, is it? It makes you wonder what she might cry out if you were to bring her to ecstasy.....another pleasant fantasy in and of itself.
The second one is "My Own Sort of PostSecret" from the blossoming Ismene of Thebes. Ismene is a bit like myself -- posting here because she wants to explore, question, and broaden her own sexual experiences and thoughts. She has been a bit timid about opening up so far, but when she does open up, watch out -- you might get scalded from the escaping steam. I hope she gets plenty of encouragement because she's quite good at telling tales, and I look forward to seeing how she develops as she opens up.
-- PB
One of the things I plan to do here is to provide mini-reviews of the other hot sites and hot writers that I discover as I wander about the erotic Internets. Today's recent discoveries are twofold, both here on Blogger. One is very recent, like my own; the other has been around since April. They're both worth reading.
The first is the very enchanting "La Damnation de Luna Mauvaise", by (you guessed it) Luna Mauvaise. It is immediately apparent when reading her entries that this is a writer of considerable talent. She has a quicksilver, effortless style, with impeccable grammar and spelling and a not-inconsiderable vocabulary. It's certainly a far cry from many of the first-grade level scribblings to be found on a lot of the "sex blogs" out there, and it's delightful. As are the stories she posts. Delicious fantasies, lazy recollections, steamy musings, poetic ramblings -- this is a journal worth reading, and she's on my watchlist now. The French language splashed here and there adds that touch of forbidden fruit -- Babelfish is never quite an accurate translation, is it? It makes you wonder what she might cry out if you were to bring her to ecstasy.....another pleasant fantasy in and of itself.
The second one is "My Own Sort of PostSecret" from the blossoming Ismene of Thebes. Ismene is a bit like myself -- posting here because she wants to explore, question, and broaden her own sexual experiences and thoughts. She has been a bit timid about opening up so far, but when she does open up, watch out -- you might get scalded from the escaping steam. I hope she gets plenty of encouragement because she's quite good at telling tales, and I look forward to seeing how she develops as she opens up.
-- PB
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
TMI Tuesday: Location, Location, Location
Looking at these questions, it appears this is going to be a monumentally boring post from me. "Not yet" on most of them. A shame, really....who wants to help out with that? *smirk*
1. If you could have monumental sex where would it be (i.e. on Lincoln's lap, the stairwell of the Statute of Liberty)?
Hm. I have to think that sex on top of Devil's Tower would be pretty incredible. (What? It's a national monument).
2. Have you ever "played" with your food (i.e. a blowjob under booth #9 at Denny's, finger banging by candlelight at Spago)?
I have fondled my partner a few times under the table at a restaurant once but haven't had the opportunities I might like to. No blowjobs under the table, regrettably.
3. Have you ever had sex in motion (i.e. the lavatory on Virgin Air, the back seat of your Chevy Suburban)?
No Mile High Club or road head yet. I've had sex in an RV, but it wasn't in motion.
4. Have you ever had sex worthy of a confessional (i.e. a stall in the church bathroom, on the desk in your boss's office)?
I've masturbated in the bathroom at my workplace before. No confessional-worthy sex, though.
5. Have you ever had sex under the stars (i.e. in the alley behind Scores Gentleman's Club, the roof of your South Beach condo)?
This is one of the ones I'd most like to fulfill -- sex under the stars on a beach or out in the Arizona desert with the stars glittering like diamond dust above.
Bonus: What's your favorite place (of all places) to have sex (i.e. The Bunny Ranch, Las Vegas)?
Wherever and whenever my partner is. That's an easy one. Cool places I'd LIKE to have sex, though, include Yellowstone National Park, Disney World, Wrigley Field, a nude beach on the Riviera, and many many more.
If you want to play too, hit up TMI Tuesday to get your questions! Or just copy from my post. That works too.
-- PB
1. If you could have monumental sex where would it be (i.e. on Lincoln's lap, the stairwell of the Statute of Liberty)?
Hm. I have to think that sex on top of Devil's Tower would be pretty incredible. (What? It's a national monument).
2. Have you ever "played" with your food (i.e. a blowjob under booth #9 at Denny's, finger banging by candlelight at Spago)?
I have fondled my partner a few times under the table at a restaurant once but haven't had the opportunities I might like to. No blowjobs under the table, regrettably.
3. Have you ever had sex in motion (i.e. the lavatory on Virgin Air, the back seat of your Chevy Suburban)?
No Mile High Club or road head yet. I've had sex in an RV, but it wasn't in motion.
4. Have you ever had sex worthy of a confessional (i.e. a stall in the church bathroom, on the desk in your boss's office)?
I've masturbated in the bathroom at my workplace before. No confessional-worthy sex, though.
5. Have you ever had sex under the stars (i.e. in the alley behind Scores Gentleman's Club, the roof of your South Beach condo)?
This is one of the ones I'd most like to fulfill -- sex under the stars on a beach or out in the Arizona desert with the stars glittering like diamond dust above.
Bonus: What's your favorite place (of all places) to have sex (i.e. The Bunny Ranch, Las Vegas)?
Wherever and whenever my partner is. That's an easy one. Cool places I'd LIKE to have sex, though, include Yellowstone National Park, Disney World, Wrigley Field, a nude beach on the Riviera, and many many more.
If you want to play too, hit up TMI Tuesday to get your questions! Or just copy from my post. That works too.
-- PB
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