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Monday, February 18, 2013

e[Lust] #43

Becks and Her Kinks
Photo courtesy of Beck and Her Kinks
Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #44? Start with the newly updated rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
P.S. Thank you for your patience while we find our way around here at e[lust] if we have made any mistakes (and surely we have) we will do our best to get it right the next time around.

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~
misconceptions of dating polyamorous women
Compromise in D/s relationships
Writing Challenge – The Journey

~ Featured Posts (Molly’s Picks) ~
 To shave or not to shave?
Of Human and Whore

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

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
Non-Monogamy and Sex Toys – Safe Sharing Tips
A Man’s Case for Being an Asshole
Thyroid function and sexuality
Property Renewal
SilverHubby: “On Being Fucked by You”
Pain In My Ass
Think Different
Open vs Poly
Escaping the Individual
To shave or not to shave?

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor
Is your sex toy review breaking the law?

Kink & Fetish
Good Boy

Erotic Writing
Take me in
Downpour          [[hey, look at that -- it's me!]]
A Naughty Nurse Setup!
Afternoon Delight
Sexy Single
Tender is the Night
Butch on Butch
A change of plan
Anal: The Final Frontier
When He Comes In My Mouth
Morning Surprise


Lolita Twenty-Thirteen, Part One
My dirty fantasy
The Peace of Wild Things
Camping Conquests
Collar & Lead
Eat Me
Shhh! Come Here!
The End of The World – Almost
Restraints For A Good Girl
Of Human and Whore
Silver Fox, Mynx, and the Hunter – Part VI: Take Two
A Story For Sir

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Happy Valentine's Day

Just a quick note as I'm swamped with work. I hope everyone has a happy, loving, sensual Valentine's Day, filled with lots of hot sex with your partner of choice. Have a great one, folks.

-- PB

Monday, February 4, 2013

"Doctor, Doctor"

Waiting to see the doctor always sucks. It's universal. No doctor is ever, ever on time, and so you're always reduced to reading one of the ancient magazines left in their waiting room, staring at the wall, trying to avoid being sneezed or coughed on by the other less considerate patients, and in general trying to pass the time without going out of your head. Then when you finally get called for your appointment, thirty minutes late, you get taken back to the tiny waiting room and then spend another half hour cooling your heels while you wait for the doctor to make his appearance.

Yes, it truly sucks. So it was no surprise at all to me that when I accompanied you for your yearly checkup that you were casting about for something to do while we waited, and of course your mind went where it always does. And of course mine was right there with you. We make a good pair, we do.

Your fingers dance over your smartphone's keyboard, and *bzzt* goes my own phone. I pull it out, and my eyes widen just a little bit: 

F:  I'm not wearing any panties. Just so you know.

I breathe deep and cast you a furtive glance. You're already grinning, not even bothering to hide it. I Swype out a reply and a few seconds later your own phone vibrates. I notice you are holding it a little closer to your crotch than most people do, and that your eyelashes fluttered just a bit when it went off. 

M:  Ah, good! Then it seems we had the same idea this morning. Neither am I.

Now it's your eyes that widen, trailing down my body to the ridge rising in my jeans. The outline is very pronounced, but of course you can't resist feeling for yourself, placing a hand on my thigh in mock sympathy, asking me in your public voice if I'm sure I'm feeling okay, "accidentally" brushing lingeringly against the ridge in my jeans. Your solicitous chatter covers my indrawn breath; how thoughtful of you.

My phone buzzes again. When did you have time to type another message? 

F:  Ooooo. Nice and hard for me already. Tell me, baby, what are you going to do with that big hard cock?

My hands shake and three times I miskey my response. Finally your phone buzzes with my response:

M:  Oh, I don't know. Thought I might, for example, slide it deep into your hot, wet pussy. Since, you know, it's bound to be wet by now. I know how naughty you are.

You shift in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs. Now it's my turn to ask if you're feeling okay. A few seconds, and my phone vibrates: 

F:  Of course. Your naughty girl. But you like me that way, don't you? You like it when I get so turned on telling you what I'm going to do to you. You like your girl all hot and wet and ready for you.

Now we're both breathing fast. The others in the room are giving us concerned looks, wondering if we might have the flu. Both of us are flushed, beads of sweat forming on our foreheads. Your phone buzzes: 

M:  I do like it. In fact I love it. I love the way you are instantly ready to go. I love the way all I have to do is whisper in your ear and you're dripping for me. It makes it so much easier for me to slide a couple fingers in. Or, for example, something bigger.

You lick your lips and give me a sultry look from under those lashes. Your fingers dance over the keyboard again. My phone: 

F:  Bigger? Why, whatever do you mean, lover?

Your phone buzzes with my response, but before you can pull it up, the receptionist calls your name.  On shaky legs you stand, and I'm right there, arm around your waist, to support you, my hand "accidentally" squeezing your ass on the way by.

We're ushered back into the waiting room. The PA takes your blood pressure and temperature and then tells you to strip down to your underwear and put on the gown. "The doctor will be with you in a few minutes," she says, and then leaves.

The click of the door closing is as loud as a gunshot. We look at each other, the hunger in our gazes almost palpable.

It's you that makes the first move, stepping away from me. You pull your dress up and over your head, slowly, sensuously, with a little wriggle that accentuates your curves. I drink in the sight of that gorgeous body, reaching out a hand to stroke your thigh. A small slap brings me back. "Nuh-uh", you say sharply. "No touching. The doctor will be here in a few minutes, remember?" You pull the gown on and begin tying it, but your hands fumble with the knots and it's obvious to me that your mind is still elsewhere.

I step close and put my hands on your waist. "Wait," you say, weakly, "the doctor."  "Yes," I murmur, drawing the S out and out. "The doctor. But he'll be running late. They always do." I slide my hands inside the gown -- not hard to do -- and run them along your stomach, down to your thighs.

Suddenly I realize I'm feeling cotton there. What? Was I so stunned by watching you undress that I missed something that obvious? I hook a finger inside the waistband: yup, panties. "I thought you said you weren't wearing any!" You look back over your shoulder with that gamin grin. "I lied," you say simply. "I might need to be spanked."

Maybe another time. The very fact that you want the spanking immediately makes me decide not to give you one. Instead I just hook my fingers into that waistband and pull, yanking those panties down to your ankles. "No!" you gasp. "We can' time, we'll......get.......caught." The pauses between words are punctuated with sighs; my hands are still active, now cupping the globes of your ass, now roaming around in front. I slip a finger down to those plump lips and find you wet, so wet, ready and raring to go. "Naughty, naughty girl," I murmur reprovingly. "Mustn't disobey me like that. When I want my girl, I take her. You know this by now."

"Yes," you murmur, sighing, leaning back into me, wiggling your ass against me, rubbing yourself against the front of my jeans. "Don't want to get caught, but I.....oh god." You moan as I slip three fingers into your wet pussy. "I......oh. I don't.....ohh! Unhh!!! I don't care any more. Please......"

"Please what?" I tease, rubbing a thumb over your clit. "Does my girl need to be fucked now? Does she need my cock after all?"

"Oh yes," you moan, and punctuate it with a shiver so violent it almost flings the gown, already precariously tied, off your body completely. "Do me now. Do me any way you like. But hurry!"

With three quick movements my zipper is down and my jeans are down to my knees. My cock springs free immediately -- unlike you, I wasn't lying about not wearing any underwear -- and it throbs angrily in the cool air. I sit down hard on the doctor's stool and spin you around to face me. Your feet tangle in the sodden mass of your panties; I help you get one foot free but the other shoe binds up and they stay hooked around that foot. Neither of us cares. I draw you closer, spreading your legs with one hand. You straddle me, reaching for my cock, pointing me the right way. I look up at you, hair hanging in your face, lips puffy with lust, and I think again that you are so. very. fucking. hot when you are really needing to get fucked.

Then everything disappears in a rising tide of pleasure as you impale yourself on me, hard. You aren't just wet; you are utterly soaked, and it's a good thing, because you rock me deep inside you with one thrust and immediately you're shaking, gasping, bouncing up and down on me. My hands lift and drop you, fondling your ass, squeezing. I'm so hard. So hot. Aching for you. Your cunt clutches at me eagerly, welcoming the invasion. I am gripped by velvet.

Moaning. Both of us are moaning now, quietly, but getting louder. I've never felt so hot, so out of control. I want this godlike pleasure to last and last but the minutes are ticking by and we need to get off and get you off me before the doctor comes in. I thrust harder; you pull me deeper into you. I lift you higher and drop you faster; you lean forward and bite my shoulder to stifle your cries. I lunge to my feet, supporting you on that bar of flesh still sunk so deeply inside you; you wrap your legs around my ass, hook your arms around my neck, and capture my mouth for a violent tongue duel. I slam you none too gently against the wall, trapping you there, helpless to resist my pounding. Thrusting, up and in, in, into that hot wetness, into the glorious ecstasy that is your cunt, in, into you. "Harder," you moan, "deeper," and "yes, baby, yes," I answer you, suiting word to deed. Bottoming out in your hot pussy, my legs straining as I shove myself deep inside you, shaking with need.

"Oh god," I moan, voice cracking, "I'm gonna," and "yes, oh yes, do it, fill me," you cry. Your eyes are wild, lost, swept away. They lock with mine, the electricity arcing between us. The lust sears, it burns. I tremble, I quake, I feel the rush, feel you clamp me even harder. Your mouth opens wide, captures mine again, and we scream at the top of our lungs into each others' mouths when I empty my balls deep inside you. Your heels dig into my ass, your thighs tighten around me. You bite my tongue and then you're shaking, convulsing yourself, hips banging rhythmically against me, unable to stop yourself even if you'd wanted, coming so hard it's almost painful.

I thrust a last time, deeper still, straining to my utmost, every muscle locked.......and then slowly, slowly, return to this plane of reality. My ass unclenches, I come down off my tiptoes. You slide slowly down the wall and I put my hands on your ass to steady you. I pull back and out of you, breathing hard. Glance at the clock on the wall, and now I panic in earnest. Quickly I pull my jeans up, my wet cock rasping deliciously against the rough denim. I help you adjust the gown more decorously, and we quickly grab a handful of tissues to mop me off your thighs.

We look at each other, grinning like a pair of idiots...and then jump apart a few feet as there's a knock at the door. "Come in," you call in a rusty voice, and the doctor enters, looking down at your chart. "Well, miss........." he starts, and then falters to a stop. We both follow his gaze, and realize that we've forgotten your panties, still tangled around one of your shoes.

Both of us go bright red. The doctor merely raises an eyebrow, and closes the door behind him. "Well," he muses, matter-of-factly. "What seems to be the trouble today?"

He looks up, eyes twinkling. "Quite obviously, it isn't a problem with our sex life, hmmm?"

-- PB

Friday, February 1, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday 2-1-13: "Unspoken"

Word Limit = 300 words
Key Phrase = hazy
Extra Credit = Figure out who's taking the picture, or, tell us where the husband is.

The air was heavy, thick, redolent with citrus and jasmine, cigarette smoke, and a darker, more primal scent overlaying all. The ceiling fans spun lazily, doing little to stir the haze. I cared not; my attention lay elsewhere.

All night I'd watched them, mutely appraising. Watched them queer the pitch for every sad bastard who came along and thought the exposure of skin was a license for grabbing, or assumed they must be available merely because they were unoccupied. Watched the interlopers slink away, torn in small pieces by razor tongue and the thousand-yard stare from dead, dead eyes.

Once or twice I caught the hooded gaze of the one in red. The glitter of those eyes was absolute, would admit of no authority, no passions. It belied the animal hungers so plain in every deliberate movement she made. The blonde – caressing her friend's shoulders slowly, once in a while leaning over to whisper inarticulate nothings – studiously refused to look at me at all. Her nipples stood tall, her breasts were drawn tight; occasionally she would trail a hand down between her legs and touch herself, and her eyes would close in heavy-lidded pleasure.

And then the one in red seemed to come to a decision. She raised her head and looked at me, deliberately, insolently. Her hands went to her dress and slid it up, up, till I could see all too easily the dusky rose of her cunt. It glistened like a promise.

I looked at her. “Why?” I wanted to know. “What makes me different from the rest of them?” I indicated the room with a slow sweep of my hand.

Her red red mouth shaped the words precisely. “I admire restraint,” she breathed. “Makes it more fun breaking that restraint.”

Director's Commentary:
This was a fantastic photo. It has a very noir-ish feel to it and I tried to inject a bit of that into this piece. I get the impression that this is one of those parties where just about anything goes, but the host (or hostess) won't tolerate any excessive familiarity unless the recipient is clearly interested. I think these two would have to put up with a lot of offers all night, and so I was curious how they might react to a man who deliberately did *not* pursue them. It seems he's won the cigar.

Who took the picture? Perhaps it was a photographer who the hostess has paid to capture interesting tableaus. There is a sense of coiled promise in this particular layout; even if it were live video, I doubt you would see much more movement than what's captured here. It's all being spoken with body language; all the communication is wordless.

Thanks to Advizor for putting together this week's Flash Fiction Friday. Go check him out, won't you, to see who else is playing.

-- PB

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

TMI Tuesday for 1-29-13: "Describe It"

Describe It

all apologies record

1. Describe your or a lover’s penis with a movie title.

Well, since I haven't had any bisexual play yet, I have to describe my own rather than a lover's. "Die Hard", I think, sums it up pretty well. I have pretty decent stamina, but more than that, I'm pretty much almost always ready to go. And if I'm *not* hard at any given time, it doesn't take more than a few seconds of kissing or stroking to get me there. :)

2. Describe your pussy or a lover’s pussy with a movie title.

Since I don't possess one of my own, I have to go with describing my lover's. "Wild Orchid" works for me. They -- and her pussy -- are just lovely. 

3. Describe your last sexual encounter with a song title. 

"Memory Daydreams Lapses" by the prog-metal project OSI....because it was more than a month and a half ago and I'm starting to forget what sex is like.

 4. Describe your body with a song title.

"Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd. I'm not numb, but I am quite comfortable with my body and content in my own skin. I want to lose some weight, but I'm working on that. 

5. Describe your sexual appetite with a book, song, or movie title. 

I'll do better than that -- I'll go all three. For a book, Robert A. Heinlein's "Time Enough for Love", because I feel there should always be time for love, lust and sex in life. For a song, "Can't Get Enuff" by Winger, because my drive is incredibly high. And for a movie, "Some Like It Hot", because well, who doesn't love hot sex with a hot partner?

 Bonus: Recommend your favorite sexy, sensual or kink oriented book.

My favorite sex manual is the version of the Kama Sutra, "Kama Sutra: Step by Step". Gorgeous models and beautifully illustrated -- very very hot indeed. My favorite series with actual story but lots of sex in it is Jacqueline Carey's first "Kushiel" trilogy.

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Friday, January 25, 2013

Flash Fiction Friday 1-25-13: "Lighthaze"

FFF for Friday Jan 25

The light was overwhelming. Even through the loosely tied scarf, it permeated her, suffused her.  Wrapped loosely in white linen, she breathed steadily, evenly, while he completed his task. Anticipation coiled lazily in her stomach, twisting, twisting. The rough texture of denim on her bare ass only heightened the sensation.

She blew a tendril of hair out of her mouth and he smacked her flank lightly. "Hey," he admonished. "I said no movement." She smiled to herself at the tremble in his voice. Betrayed by his own lust.

She heard his buckle being undone, then the purr of the zipper. He knelt, straddling her legs. Groaning, he pressed against her. Groaning, he slid home. A small sound escaped her, a soft sigh of acceptance. She planted her hands more firmly against the wall and rocked back against him. Ragged breathing was her only response. Her forehead dropped, pressed against the cool of the headboard, rested there.

Abruptly he stiffened, emitted a strangled cry. She felt him flooding into her, and rejoiced.

After, he lay alongside her, stroking her lightly. His hands were rough but tender.

"I wasn't....too hard on you, was I?" he asked, wanting reassurance. She rolled her eyes behind the blindfold. Barely thirty seconds, she thought, no, I don't think that was too much.

But she smiled, and said, "You did fine, honey. We'll try for longer next time."


Word = Dark or light (but not both in the same piece)
Word Length = 300 for 1, 150 for 2, or 75 for 3
Extra Credit = Where did she go to college?

Director's commentary:
I absolutely love the lighting of this shot. Something about the way the guy in this photo is fumbling with the knots and the posture of her body suggested an inexperienced guy who wants to play around with some bondage. I thought I'd have some fun with the idea that he got so excited by it that he only lasted a short time. Who's the woman? Is she his girlfriend? His wife? His mistress? A call girl? You decide. To me, she's his wife, indulging him and turned on by the idea, but a little disappointed at the execution. Well, not everything in the bedroom works out perfectly. That's why you practice until you get it right for all participants. :)
Where did she go to college? She looks like a Vassar girl to me. Don't ask me why.
Thanks to Advizor for putting this one together. If you want to see who else is playing, drop by his page.
Happy FFF! 
-- PB

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

TMI Tuesday for 1/22/13

Thanks to an anonymous TMI Tuesday fan and lurker for this week’s TMI Tuesday questions.
Complete each sentence with an anecdote of sexual adventure or misadventure:

1. The first time I . . . realized I might be bisexual, or at least bi-curious, was about two years ago when I was watching a porn clip from somewhere or other, with a girl giving some random guy a blowjob and handjob, and I realized I was spending more time admiring the guy's cock than what she was doing with it. He really had a nice one -- long, smooth, beautiful, pubic hair trimmed very short, shaved balls. I discovered I was fantasizing about what it might be like to lick that big rod, to take his balls in my mouth, to suck on that bulbous head. My own cock was painfully hard at the prospect. "Well now," I thought. "Isn't that interesting." 

2. The last time I . . . had sex was sometime in early December. Not by my choice, but because my girlfriend's drive is so low these days. This is why I have this journal -- to provide an outlet for the fantasies and drive that is still insatiable on my part. :)

3. The only time I . . . ever ran away from somebody who expressed interest in me was in my college days. I may write about this one in more detail sometime; "The One That Got Away" or something. She was in a psych class I was taking and I thought she was lovely, so I asked her out. To my surprise, she said yes. We went out for dinner and it was going quite well; she seemed very interested in and involved with me. And then I found out she had a kid. I'm ashamed to say I ended the date not long after that, and never called her or talked to her again. What a jackass I was back then. Having a kid doesn't mean you can't date, for fuck's sake.

4. My best . . . blowjob was one I got one night from Melissa, about whom I've written in more detail here. I don't know what was so special about that one incident, but she just drove me absolutely out of my skull with pleasure that particular time, bringing me to the edge and back over and over, sucking me long and slow, pumping me with her fist once in a while. It went on for almost twenty minutes, I think, and by the time she finished with me everything in my body was tingling, currents of pleasure running all over me. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, the suction so strong but still so velvety soft. My brain was whirling. I was moaning helplessly, calling her name, grabbing fistsful of the bedsheets, stupefied by lust. When I finally came I unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum down her throat. She swallowed every drop and then swirled her tongue around me until I was completely clean. Then she started caressing me again, and ten minutes later she had me hard again and was riding me in cowgirl....but that's another story.

5. My worst . . . sexual experience was my first one-night stand. I wrote about it in more detail here, when I talked about Michelle. I'm not averse to other one-night stands, but it would have to be with somebody that I had more of a connection with than that.

 BONUS: Everyone, however much experienced, still has some unfulfilled desires. What is at the top of your yet-to-do list?

I've got a huge "want to do" list, but I think the thing that's currently highest on the list is a threesome, either a MMF threesome or a MFF threesome. I think I'd like to start with a MFF but with the right participants, an MMF could be nice too. See above re: bi-curious. :)

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!
Happy TMI Tuesday!

Saturday, January 19, 2013


It was a hell of a surprise, you know.

I tend to take my showers in the mornings, and of course (since you generally sleep like a rock and have to be dragged out of bed even when it's noon already) you generally don't even know about it until I've finished and am already drying off. So it was one hell of a shock when I shut the spray off and was busily lathering myself, getting all slick and slippery, and turned around to see you watching me from around the corner of the doorway.

I might have twitched violently. Might even have jumped backwards in shock and cracked my head against the wall. I'd never admit to that, of course. But I was startled, and that must have been fairly obvious from your fit of giggles. "Oh my," you said, grinning. "Did I scare you?"

The look on my face must have made any reply unnecessary. "Well, let's see if I can make it up to you," you said, and came the rest of the way into the room, and I saw that you were as naked as I. There was another surprise -- I don't see you walking around without clothes much, because you know it's bound to result in me pouncing, every single time -- but I had no time to worry about hows or whys, seeing you sashay across the tile floor, breasts swaying, licking your lips. I felt my cock twitch -- it was already semi-hard from when I'd been lathering up and stroking myself a bit -- and then it wilted a little when you opened the shower door and the colder air rushed in. "Aack! That's cold!" I complained, and you put a finger to my lips. "Shush. No talky now. Is time for the sexings."

Well, now. How could I possibly complain about that? Not for the first time, I reflected how lucky I was, as you leaned forward, rubbing yourself against me, getting yourself wet and soapy as well. "Not enough," you decided, and turned on the shower again. Hot water blasted over both of us, rinsing some of the suds down between us, but only long enough to get you all wet and shiny. You shut the spray off again, then took the shower gel and poured a generous helping all over your tits. "Get me nice and clean, baby?" you begged in a little-girl voice, and wow! did that ever turn my crank. Far be it from me to refuse a lady's request, so of course I had to start fondling and squeezing and soaping those lovely breasts, my hands running all over your torso, getting you all lathered and slick. You moaned and your own hands went to work, running up and down my body as well, encouraging my cock to rise again, working up plenty more lather to replace whatever had been rinsed away by the brief spray.

You slid your hands lower, wrapping them quite firmly around my cock. "My favorite toy," you breathed, and began to stroke me in a steady, insistent rhythm that left no doubt about the eventual end. My breath was already coming fast at the novelty of the whole situation and I still couldn't quite believe I was here, with a hot woman in the shower squeezing and stroking my soapy cock, rubbing herself against me, suds all over her and dripping slowly down her body.

Suddenly you knelt in front of me. Not for the first time I was grateful for that nice soft shower mat. I thought at first you were going to take me in your mouth, and opened my own mouth to protest -- I might want to wash your mouth out, but not with soap -- but then realized immediately you had something else in mind. You leaned forward and wrapped both of those tits around my cock, sliding me up and down, in and out of that magnificent valley. I groaned with lust. The sensation was indescribable. Slithering and slipping, hardness wrapped by softness. I closed my eyes and leaned back, and heard a quiet but firm "No" from you; opening my eyes again, I saw that impish grin you do so well. "No," you repeated. "I want you to see me titty-fucking you. I want you to see me getting you off. I want you to watch as you paint my tits with your cum."

You licked your lips, and increased your pace, squeezing together more tightly around my heated cock. "And baby, I want it now."

I moaned your name, my legs and torso tingling. It felt like electricity was running along every nerve ending, starting at my head and feet and being drawn downward and upward towards my center, my whole existence funnelling inward to the sensation of my cock sliding between your tits. I felt myself begin to tremble, and my breath grew more ragged. "Oh," I moaned, and you moaned back. "Yes, baby. That's it. Come for me. Come on  me. Squirt that hot cum between my soapy tits. I need some good skin cream." You speeded up just a bit more, eyes still locked on mine, mischief dancing in their depths. "Be a good boy and come for me, lover. I want it now."

I gasped and shook and shouted your name as I blasted off without any warning at all. It hit me like a highballing freight train, pleasure exploding all through me even as I exploded between your tits. My cum mixed with the suds and water and lather, creating a hot, sticky mess which you promptly began rubbing all over yourself. When I had no more to give, you wrapped your hands around me and stroked upward, milking a last few drops out to land on the tips of your nipples.

"Good boy," you said softly. And turned on the shower again, and the hot water poured over us, washing some of the sticky mess down between us, but doing nothing to dampen my arousal. Somehow, I was still hard. I reached for your hand, and pulled you to your feet, and you grinned, and hooked a leg around my ass, spreading yourself for me. Hot, you were so hot, slick with excitement, slick with suds, slick with sweat. I slid into you and you moaned and I moaned and you leaned back against the wall, bracing yourself, readying yourself for the invasion, awaiting the pounding we both knew we needed now, fitting yourself to me with practiced skill and lustful, hungry hoyden joy.

Soon we would need another cleanup period. Hazily, rocking in and out of you with hard sharp thrusts, I wondered if we would even make it out of the shower at all today.

Monday, January 7, 2013

In the Arms of Morpheus, In Your Arms

The war movie "Johnny Got His Gun" is a soul-shattering experience for many. It sticks in the mind for many reasons, not the least of which is the psychological hell that would be caused by loss of all your physical faculties while your mental processes remained alert and very much aware. One quote from the movie has especially stuck with me over the years, though: "How can you tell what's a dream and what's real when you can't even tell when you're awake and when you're asleep?"

It was like that for me this morning, you know. For much different and considerably more pleasant reasons.

I was floating, drifting, wandering in a pleasant haze. Clouds passed over and through me and I was borne aloft on warm breezes. Far below me I saw a landscape of indescribable beauty, rolling hills and valleys, mountains with snow-capped tips, lush forests and rushing cataracts. My spirit sang at the sight. Indeed, I was feeling pleasure radiating outward from my core, buoying me up effortlessly, the good feelings crackling along every nerve ending.

Slowly things shifted and turned, and I sideslipped along another plane of existence. The pleasure intensified, becoming more localized. I felt dim sensations: warmth building to heat, gentle tingling, a velvety smoothness, a slick friction of some kind. They intensified as the pleasure built. Reality reassembled itself, building blocks falling into place, solidifying to the here and now.

Which was that your lips were wrapped around my cock and you were sucking on me gently but insistently.

My eyes flew open in shock and then almost immediately closed again as the sensations swept over me and carried me away. Never had I felt such exquisite points of pleasure. There was no time to wonder how you'd pulled the covers off without awakening me, what had possessed you to awaken me like this, or even how in the hell you'd gotten here in the first place. It's very difficult to think coherent thoughts when a woman has your cock in her mouth.

And so consciousness coalesced around the delight I felt: heat, gentle suction, a most insistent tongue curling around my shaft and concentrating on the head. Your soft fingers stroked me up and down, tenderly but with firm authority. I moaned, the first sound I had managed, and was rewarded with a humming "Mmmmm" from you, my cock never slipping free. Your hair whispered along my belly, your hands caressed my thighs and fondled my balls. Your mouth worked with slow passion, teasing me, gorging me with blood and desire. I felt myself throb intensely with each hard thump of my heart.

The sounds of lust: wet "shlick" and "sploop" sounds as you sucked me, slowly, your mouth moving from head to the base of my shaft, my ragged breathing as the pleasure built, my helpless moans of desire, your soft musical humming. I began to raise my hips, slightly, involuntarily, and heard/felt you giggle to yourself, knowing I was completely and utterly lost, in your control.

And then you pulled back. My cock slid free, rigid as a post, throbbing angrily. I gasped as your tongue dragged over the crown, swirling round it, bringing fresh beads of desire, glistening pearly white. You grinned the most impish grin I had ever seen and only then did I realize you were as naked as I. Slowly, slowly, you crept forward, your skin sliding against mine, your hard nipples scoring trails along my chest as you undulated along my length. You straddled me. Your thighs grabbed me with no doubt about who was in charge here. You looked down imperiously, eyes glinting with mischief and delight. You raised those hips. Your hands caressed your own skin, fondling your breasts. You tweaked your nipples and sighed softly as your hands moved lower, ever downward. Your hand wrapped around my rigid length, angling it, pointing me to your own requirements. More heat, more wetness: slick and ready, you enveloped me before I could even blink, and just like that we were connected, so intimately, so deeply.

You sighed again, this time in words: my name. It sounded like a blessing. With a soft gasp I called your own, the word almost lost in a moan of pure need as you began to move slowly, excruciatingly slowly. You leaned forward, your breasts pressed against my chest, and rained kisses on my neck, my throat. Your tongue tasted my pulse, explored my earlobe. I felt your breath, hot and insistent. My hands went to cup and squeeze your ass, helping you fit yourself to me. Slowly, so slowly, you rose and fell above me. I raised my head to capture a nipple with lips and tongue and was rewarded with moans of your own. Steadily, rhythmically, you drove me onward. Steadily, rhythmically, I was driven higher, the pleasure building, the tempo increasing. My breath came faster. Your velvet walls gripped me, molding me, shaping me for our ecstasy. Your hair swung forward, obscuring your face, but those eyes glinted, glinted. A ghost of a smile from you: you leaned forward, palms on my chest, bracing yourself for harder, faster, rocking and grinding. Your touch seared my skin. Head whirling, every nerve flamed with delight, I could only gasp and moan, helpless to resist the tide, the inevitable burst of heat and light and color, the brilliant nova that sent me over the edge......

.........and then I raised my head, and looked around. The sheets were tangled, my pillow askew, my cock throbbing steadily in a pool of precum. I touched myself: stickier than I should be. The memory of your kisses, the taste of your tongue, the feel of your hot cunt, wouldn't leave me alone, insisted they had been real. I dropped my head to the pillow, and sighed bitterly. Never have I been so disappointed to return to the real world from a dream.

-- PB

Thursday, January 3, 2013

to drive the cold winter away

bitter, arctic breezes
bleak, sullen skies, numb and tasteless
leaves skitter and skirl in gyres of whimsy
they are so very far from the truth:

that in the heat of your gaze
the sensual agony of your touch
the fire in your mouth
the feel of your breasts
the endless depth of your pussy
the shrieks of your passion
you drive the cold
and the dark
and the winter
so very far away

shifting, melding forms
slippery with sweat
your body shaped by my touch,
curved, arching, spreading, lifting to accept me
i taste the mulled wine on your tongue
carpet rough on our skin
b-tribe pulsing softly on the stereo
rolling over and over, slowly, entangled more and more deeply

i plunge deep
you sip air
we move in rhythms old as time,
clutching at each other
glowing with delighted wonder
knowing it can never last
but knowing we can always find this place again
this delicious dance
this more perfect union
this ocean of joy in a wintry storm

-- PB