Microfantasy Monday Week #54: "Games"

Tanya smiled to herself, anticipating his arrival in a few minutes.

Her plan was working to perfection so far. She'd reeled him in with the most confusing and bewildering array of mind games she'd yet been able to manage. Calling him in the middle of the night to talk about things that were bothering her, and only letting him go when he'd be too tired at work the next day to be anything other than useless. Whispering in his ear that she wasn't wearing panties at the beginning of a date, then angrily slapping him across the face when he tried to explore a bit under her dress. Texting him about how horny she was and how badly she needed to be fucked, then pleading exhaustion and a headache when he arrived, panting like a dog. Deliberately ignoring dozens of gradually more frantic voicemails, then calling him out of the blue and passing it off as her "just being so busy". Writing a romantic, emotional poem and leaving it in his briefcase, then laughing, "Oh, you thought that was serious? Don't be silly, darling." Disappearing halfway through a date and leaving him to pick up the check....and pay for a taxi home, since she'd stranded him as well. She was particularly proud of that last one.

Yes, it had worked beyond anything she'd ever dreamed. She'd never seen a man so drunk with lust, so turned on and twisted far out of recognition that he'd fall at her feet without a whimper if she so much as crooked her little finger.

But where was he? He was five minutes late, and that wasn't like him at all. She picked up her phone and dialed his number, quite peeved. Ten rings brought her his voicemail, with a message she hadn't heard before. "Sorry, can't get to the phone right now. Off for a vacation and I've left my phone behind. If it's important, leave me a message and I'll get back to you."

Well! That was really quite exasperating. If she were important? She drew in breath, preparing to blast the voicemail with a piece of her pique, and then was dumbstruck as the message continued, "........Oh, and if you're Tanya, don't bother calling me again. Ever. We are done, finito, over with."

The world reeled. Dimly her mind registered the voicemail beep, dimly her body went through the automatic actions of closing the phone. She couldn't get the sense from it, couldn't comprehend what she'd heard. Her brow furrowed and her mouth worked, shaping the words slowly: Done. Finito. Over with.

But.....he'd been enjoying the games they'd played. Hadn't he?


(This is my contribution for Sweltering Celt's Microfantasy Monday. The theme, as you may have guessed, is "Games". And if it sounds overly bitter, don't worry, that's just my extreme distaste for the games some women play coming through. I'm sure none of you lovely folk would ever do things like this.) 

-- PB

Group Post: "Curves"

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge #12: "Study"

The clacking keys of the old Royal typewriter gave the odd impression of a halfhearted war: sporadic bursts of machine-gun fire breaking out occasionally. She worked with set intensity, brow furrowed, back straight against the hardwood, absently brushing a strand of hair away from her face, annoyed it had escaped from its confinement.

The air was cold on her nipples and they stood at attention. Occasionally her elbows would brush against them, sending little darts of energy through her. These served as excellent foci for her attention. Honestly, she didn't understand why all writers didn't work this way. Without the confinement of clothing, she could get so much more accomplished.

“Is it time for a break yet, Miss?” she heard from the doorway. She raised an eyebrow and looked back over her shoulder, then pursed her lips in a soundless whistle as her eyes traversed his form and she saw what he had for her. A great big mass of thick red meat, nice and juicy. She clenched her legs together, willing herself not to show the excitement she was suddenly feeling.

“All right,” she agreed. “I guess I could go for a sandwich about now.”

He turned and snapped his fingers, and his twin brother appeared behind him. “Yes?”

“The Mistress wants a sandwich. Shall we oblige her?”

“Of course,” the newcomer agreed. “Is it my turn for her ass or her cunt this time?”

They turned to her, awaiting her decision.


(This is my entry for Spanky and Tiggs's Flash Fiction Friday Challenge #12: 250 words on the photo shown above. Want to play too? Then stop by and check out the guidelines.)

-- PB

Good lord, you people are nuclear today.

I'm looking around at all the amazingly hot people who've participated in HNT today and am drooling, positively droooooooooooling, at all the beauty I see. And it's making me hot as hell. So, I thought I'd share a few of my favorite sex positions, courtesy of SexInfo101. This site's good for inspiration, although the comments on the positions tend to be (shall we say) lowest-common-denominator.

(Note: there should be animations for each of these. If you don't see an animation, try visiting the main site and looking around to see if you're missing a required plugin).

My all time favorite: doggy-style. I love this one because it makes me feel like the Big Bad Wolf, primal, raw, taking ruthlessly, growling and snarling. It makes me feel like an animal, and I like it.


Another favorite: having you riding me like a pole. This one's great for taking you up against the wall. I particularly like it when you wrap your legs around my ass while I thrust into you in this one.


The arch: a recent favorite. I've discovered just how great it feels to fuck in this position. It lets me get very deep into you as well, and there's just something about grabbing your legs and spreading them to lift and support you.


And one more: sitting rear entry. I would guess this does feel like a lap dance (although I've never had one). Still, it's fantastic to have you ride me in this position so I can reach around to grab your tits, squeeze them and fondle your nipples.


So there you have them -- some of my favorites. What are some of yours?

-- PB

What do you want from me?

Hm. I'm not sure I have a big enough readership to do an entry like this yet, but what the hell. I'm kicking around a number of ideas for new entries, but haven't decided on any yet.

So I'll put the question to you: what would you like to hear from me? Do you want to know about my past? Do you want to know what I dream about? What do you want me to write next? Got a fantasy you'd like me to bring to life here? I'm curious -- what's your pleasure?

-- PB

TMI Tuesday #212

TMI Tuesday is celebrating the Top 100 Sex Journalers of 2009 (which I posted about yesterday) by stealing their questions for this week from the 100th post of the #1 person on the list, the Coquitten. (Go read her, she's excellent).

Anyhow, the questions interested me this week, so I'm going to play too.

1. I lost my virginity at 18, in the back of a car, on prom night. Where and when did you lose yours?
In the bed of a girl I'd flown to visit, knowing that we'd almost certainly end up in bed during the visit. I was 20 years old. A late starter, perhaps....but it wasn't for lack of interest. :)

2. I think my ass is my best sexual feature. What is yours?
I've been told I have a very talented tongue, so I guess I'll go with that. I've also been told I have a very nice cock, so I'll put that down second. :)

3. A recurring theme in my fantasies is being slammed up against the wall. Do you have a recurring fantasy or a theme to your fantasies?
Two themes do keep showing up repeatedly -- firstly, exhibitionistic sex (being watched, not necessarily in a very public place -- just knowing that someone else is watching us fuck), and secondly, very aggressive sex (tearing clothes, breaking furniture, slamming up against walls, raw and primal and urgent). Hell, I'm getting hard just typing that.

4. I love watching guys masturbate. Do you enjoy watching others (a partner or a stranger) masturbate?
I'd love to watch my partner masturbate. My current girlfriend doesn't really like to do it for me, though, so I get my fix from watching vids online.

5. I hate when guys are quiet in bed. I like to hear you moaning as you cum. Do you like you partners quiet? Are you quiet?
I like it loud and enthusiastic, from both sides. I like lots of moans and sighs and yelps. I love dirty talk, both hearing it and giving it. The filthier the better. And I like to be loud myself, but if my partner's the quiet type it has a very inhibiting effect on me and quiets me down too. The converse is also true, of course -- the louder you get, the louder I'll get too, in a very pleasant feedback loop.

6. I love playing with nipples. Do you having your nipples played with?
This is something that does absolutely nothing for me, I'm afraid. Some guys love it, it just leaves me cold. 

7. My ‘number’ is between 15 and 25. What is your 'number'?
I was going to dissemble about this and refuse to answer, but hell, what is this journal for if it isn't to be honest? I've had six partners, which roughly translates to one every three years I've been active (I'll be 37 this year).

.........Good god, how sad. I have to go kill myself now.

-- PB

Top 100 Sex Journals of 2009

Too busy today for anything more substantive than this, I'm afraid.

BMS has posted a list of the top 100 sex journals of 2009 (actually the phrase is "sex bloggers", but I still hate the world "blog" and always will, so I ain't gonna use it, nope nope). Go check the list out and see if you can't find some additional interesting people to follow. There are some really talented and intelligent writers out there.

How many of them do I read? Check the list on my sidebar to see; I keep my interests pretty much up front for all to see.

-- PB

How do *you* define "cougar"?

I've read a couple of stories or comics recently that had me blinking in surprise. In all three of them (no, I won't provide links, because I honestly don't remember where they were -- this has been kicking around my head for days), the phrase "cougar" was used to refer to a woman who was "30 or older" and "usually considered to be past her sexual prime".

I reacted in two ways to this. Firstly, I went "You're considered to be a cougar now if you're over THIRTY? Isn't that kind of young for the appellation?" I mean, I'd always thought that the phrase "cougar" referred to mature women in their late forties and fifties.These stories, though, were implying that you were a cougar if you were thirty or older. That seemed ridiculous -- just artificially low to me.

Then I looked at it further, at the idea that cougars are "past their sexual prime", and at that I had plenty to say, but "Bollocks!" was the first I came up with. For one thing, wasn't the statistic for years that men reach their sexual peak at 18, while women don't do so until they turn 36? Used to see that pair of statistics around every corner, for years. For another thing, how many of the women in the sex-journalling world are in their thirties, or their forties and fifties? A scan of my watchlist turns up several in your thirties, plus a few more in your forties, and yes, a few in your fifties. And all of you have hearty and healthy appetites -- in fact, some of you have damn near incredible appetites. "Past their sexual prime", pfah. What a load of crap.

Anyway, this got me wondering -- what do YOU think a "cougar" is? Late forties? Fifties? Is it age-related only? Or do you buy this garbage about thirty being the cutoff point? Have cougars really passed their sexual peak, or do you agree that's crap as well? Or is it just that "cougars" go exclusively after men who are younger than they, and so you exhibit cougar behaviors even at thirty if you're chasing men who're in their twenties? I'm lost here.

For my part, I think I must be getting up there in my dotage as well, because a lot of the college students I see in my town look to me like they're twelve years old. Sure, some of 'em have nice hard bodies, but I hear snippets of their conversation and the banalities they talk about, and my interest in them shrinks to less than zero. There's got to be a brain there if I'm going to give a damn, no matter how hot you are, and the plain fact is that older women have had more life experiences and are more mature just by virtue of that.

Disclaimer: Don't for a second think that I'm singling out the younger ladies in the crowd for unfair finger-pointing. I can think of any number of you that are in your twenties, or younger -- Amy , Coquitten , Amorous Rocker and (I think) Ang come immediately to mind -- but you're smart too, and that's why you've got my attention, not just because of your pert young flesh. Although I won't lie, that does catch my interest as well. :)

So if I'm a cougar-watcher for loving women that are thirty and up, well, then, I guess you'd better cuff me, Officer. Oh, what's that, officer? You're over thirty too? Then why the cuffs? Oh. ..........Ohhh!!! Well, lead the way, then........

Rrrrrowr. Gotta love them cougars. And all the rest of you hotties as well. Regardless of age.

-- PB

Flash Fiction Friday Challenge #11: "Antici......................pation"

 She had never been so completely alive. Blindfolded, collared, chained, bound with silken ropes, she nevertheless could picture the scene intimately. Her senses had expanded far beyond anything she'd ever tasted – the air currents dancing over her superheated skin; the flickering light from the dancing candleflames arrayed all about her; the trickles of wetness running down her thighs.

The step of a watcher. They stopped in the doorway, drinking in the sight. She writhed sensuously, helpless to stop the flood of crashing sensations. “Please......” she begged, and knew not what for.

“No,” he replied. “At least....not yet.” 

(This is my entry for Spanky and Tiggs's Flash Fiction Friday Challenge #11: 100 words on the photo shown above. Want to play too? Then stop by and check out the guidelines.)

-- PB

Virtual Kama Sutra

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.