Sunday, December 21, 2008

Point of view

Recently, I have been thinking about point-of-view. I talked a little while back about the potential differences between women and men’s fantasies. I suspected women needed explanation of motivation and may want more emotional connection; on the other hand men were more likely to want to get right down the action.

A friend posed this question to me last week: Is it possible for a man and a woman to experience the same emotion during sex? It’s a great question and I have been mulling it over for a while. The conclusion I have reached is I’m not sure it is. What do you think?

Every sensory experience we have, sexual or not, is filtered through the various ‘lenses’ of our lives. All the information we receive has to pass through the filter of our gender, our religion (or lack there-of), our family up-bringing, and any related past experiences. To name just a few. Possibly gender is the strongest of these ‘lenses’. (Religion is way up there on the list but that’s another topic! One day I will re-write the story of Adam and Eve……)

There is a wide divergence between how men and women are taught, both subconsciously and consciously, about sex. Obviously our bodies are very different. Thankfully, our bodies are very different!

How a woman experiences, on a physical level, hands on her breasts will vary from how a man experiences hands on his chest. But, perhaps more importantly, the emotional reaction to the same physical experience is different too.

Which got me to thinking, how would a woman and a man experience and interpret the same sexual adventure? Clearly, I have a better idea of the female point of view, being a female. Putting myself in the male point of view is much more difficult. Frankly I’m making it up as I go!

So, I am writing two stories. Both are about a man and a woman stranded in a hotel by a snow storm. But one story is from the woman’s point of view and the other from his. As I’m sure you have come to expect, there will be fucking, this is an erotic story blog after all.

The first story, from the woman’s point of view, is nearly done. I’ll post it soon. The male point of view may take a little longer… as always you can email me with suggestions.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Confession Time

Confession time - there is a woman at my salon who I would consider going to bed with if she asked. She's at least ten years older than me, maybe late forties, but I get a great vibe from her and think she would be a great 'first timer'.
Sam is the woman who waxes my legs and recently when she did my bikini line I had all kinds of warm fuzzy thoughts about her (in between the actual waxing part of course!!) During the treatment, her hands were all over my legs, inner thighs and bikini line and... I liked it.

To read what happened next, check out my archive.

Confession Time.... Continued

Confession time - there is a woman at my salon who I would consider going to bed with if she asked. She's at least ten years older than me, maybe late forties, but I get a great vibe from her and think she would be a great 'first timer'.
Sam is the woman who waxes my legs and recently when she did my bikini line I had all kinds of warm fuzzy thoughts about her (in between the actual waxing part of course!!) During the treatment, her hands were all over my legs, inner thighs and bikini line and... I liked it.
Anyway, this last time I had an appointment, Sam told me to take my clothes off and as usual she would wait outside. In the times we had met before, we had 'hit it off'. A thought popped into my head. She didn't have to leave; I would be okay with her watching me undress. In fact, I wanted her to watch me undress; which surprised me to say the least.
But she did leave; I stripped off my shoes, skirt, nylons and underwear and hopped up on to the massage table. When she came back into the room, she asked me to lie down. As she busied herself warming the wax and getting organized, all the while making small talk asking about the heat of the room, was I comfortable? etc. Music played quietly, a few scented candles gave the room a slightly spicy aroma, the overhead lights had been dimmed; the whole atmosphere was very relaxing, making it easy for my mind to drift. Done with her preparations, Sam ran her hands up and down my legs, looking for what waxing needed to be done. But I wasn't thinking about hair removal, I was thinking how nice her hands felt, cool and soft. Then she nudged my legs apart to look at my bikini line.
You know how some people can touch you in a professional capacity, even in places usually associated with pleasure but it feels clinical not at all sexual? Well this was different even though she acted in a solely professional manner it still felt good, it felt intimate. I wondered what I would do if she touched me any more privately than she was already. She didn't, she remained always thoroughly professional; regardless, anytime she touched my body felt like an intimate touch. I thought maybe if she did touch me sexually I wouldn't stop her. This is where my imagination takes over...the rest of this is fantasy.
So where was I? Oh yes, she has spread my legs to look at my bikini line…
In my imagination, Sam finishes waxing my legs and pours warm oil on my skin, massaging it in. I relax into the sensations of warmth and comfort. The whole environment is conducive to intimacy and I feel the rest of the world slip away until just she and I existed. After the leg massage, I know she will start the bikini wax. I find I am looking forward to her touching 'further up'. Once again she pushes my legs apart but this time she brushes her hand over my pubic bone. I hold my breath. I realize, I want her to touch me, but don't know what she is thinking or feeling or even how to bring it up, so I remain quiet.

“I’m going to lock the door,” she says crossing the room. I hear the click of the lock as she explains in a warm rich voice, “We don’t want anyone walking in on us do we?” I shake my head, unsure whether I am to read between the lines or not. So much of what has happened here tonight has been ambiguous. On the surface she has been nothing but business-like but my gut tells me there is something more going on. I decide to wait and see if I can discern any further clues before I say anything.
Sam returns to stand next to the table, but this time she puts her hand right at the top of my leg, mere centimeters away from my clitoris and I try not jump. Very aware of my lack of underwear, I feel myself starting to get wet. This could be very embarrassing if I have misjudged her intentions and she notices I am aroused by her touch.
However, if she notices, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she asks if I have ever had a Brazilian wax?
“No. To be honest I don’t know what one is exactly.”
She laughs softly. "It's a wax to remove the hair from here," she touches my pubic bone, "and here," she strokes her fingers along the folds of my vagina, "and here" she taps gently on the skin between my butt cheeks.
I think she has to have meant to touch me in such a sensual way. It couldn't have been an accident, right? But I just don't know so again I chose to play it safe and lie still. My body, however has reacted strongly, my heart rate has shot up, my skin is flushed and I am sure she can't help but notice just how wet I am now. Especially as she still has her hand between my legs. I have to fight the urge to squirm down the table so her hand comes into contact with my clitoris. But she takes her hand away before I can make the decision to do it.
She starts preparing the wax and her manner becomes a little more business like. I am thoroughly disappointed! But when she turns around she asks if I am going to have my armpits waxed too. I look at her puzzled. Do people do that? Again she laughs. "Let me see", she says, "take off your shirt". I sit up and start to unbutton my blouse.
Sam makes no move to leave this time. I make eye contact and hope she can see the clear invitation in my eyes as I'm still not sure enough to verbalize my thoughts. She watches me unbutton my blouse. Getting flustered, I slow down; my fingers don’t seem to be cooperating properly and I can't get the last button out.
"Let me", she says and steps up between my legs to help. Her hands are warm but my nipples tighten anyway. My mind is whirling with a million thoughts, all of which run along the lines of… Holy shit I want to have sex with this woman.
When she has popped the last button free her hands linger holding open my shirt. She is looking at my breasts and bites her lower lip. "Lie back down" she instructs. I willingly do as she asks. She puts my arm over my head and runs her hand down my arm but not my armpit; instead she traces the top of my bra. My breath catches in my throat. "Are you okay?" she asks. I nod. She bends down to kiss me on the mouth, her lips are very soft. It's a very gentle kiss, an exploring kiss, an erotic kiss. I feel her tongue brush my lips and open to her exploration. The kiss deepens. When she pulls away, I sit up.
All my doubts are gone. There is no question of my misinterpreting that kiss! I want to touch her so I pull her shirt up over her head revealing her lovely round breasts. We kiss again. I want to put my hands on her tits; to feel the weight of them. I realize, I'm mostly naked and kissing a woman, putting my hands on her is probably okay at this point! I cup her breasts in both hands, they are big and heavy as I imagined. I have no idea what she wants, so I do what I know I enjoy hoping she'll guide me if I get it wrong. I run my thumb over her nipple and feel it harden. It's thrilling. I slide her bra straps down her arms, pulling the cups of her bra down freeing her breasts. They are directly in front of my face so I follow my instinct and take her nipple into my mouth. It's the first time I have ever had another woman's nipple in my mouth. I like the feeling, I like her texture, her taste, I like the way she moans and arches her back. I roll her nipple on my tongue enjoying how it puckers on my tongue.
She asks me if I want her to take off the rest of her clothes. I nod. She strips for me, slowly. She is beautiful; soft and round and very sexy. She asks if I have ever done this before. I shake my head. "Are you nervous?" she asks. "Yes. But I don't want to stop." She smiles as she runs her hands up my inner thigh, when she touches my clit I suck in my breath. It feels so damn good. I am wet enough for her to slide two fingers into me without any trouble. My head falls back and I moan. She strokes the inside wall of my vagina with the tips of her fingers. I'm wildly turned on. I grip the edge of the massage table to steady myself.
Then she pulls her fingers away dropping down onto her knees, I can feel her hot breath between my legs. I must be very wet by now; I was so close to coming before she removed her fingers.
Realization dawns, I have a woman's head between my legs. I'm stunned but am loving it! I feel her tongue on me and my breath catches in my throat. I can barely breathe. She works her tongue over my clit and pushes it into me. The feeling of her tongue and mouth on my clitoris, the folds of my vagina, licking, sucking, stroking….It’s all just too good, I am drowning in sensation, I can’t think, I can’t breathe. Then she is gone.

When I open my eyes, she is standing in front of me again with a big smile on her face. “I want…” I stammer. I want to touch her, I want to taste her, I want to hear her come but I can’t communicate any of this. The ability to string words together into a coherent sentence has long since vanished.

Sam smiles again. “This is your first time and I’m going to take care of you. Next time you can return the favour.” She kisses me and I taste myself on her lips.

Next time? I hadn’t counted on there being a next time. Pleased I don’t have to cram all of my fantasies into this one night, I stop trying to argue. Besides, I am selfish enough to enjoy being ‘taken care of’ so I relax and enjoy her attention. She kisses me again, nipping my lower lip. I wrap my arms and legs around her pulling her in tight to me. Her breasts are pressed into mine, it’s incredibly erotic, soft flesh on soft flesh.

Our kissing is sweet and tender one minute and demanding the next. Her hands are on my face, my breasts, and my ass. I can’t keep track of them. Where ever they land feels so damn good, soon I quit trying to follow their progress over my body and surrender to the pleasure they bring.

When I feel as if I can’t possibly take any more teasing she starts to move purposefully down my body. I run one hand over her hair, gently guiding her to my inner thigh but even though I’m expecting it, waiting for it, wanting it, when I feel her lips on my clitoris I’m instantly lost. Reaching for something, anything, to anchor me I grasp the head rest of the massage table.


This time she slides two fingers deep into me as she plays with me with her lips and tongue. Almost instantly I feel my orgasm start to build. Her tongue and lips and fingers work magic, driving me wild, pushing me closer and closer. Even as I reach the peak, she still pushes me so that when my orgasm breaks it’s a huge wave of pleasure pulsing through me. I try so hard not to cry out but I can’t contain it.

Later, when I have dressed and am paying my bill, Sam slips a card into my hand. “This is my home address and phone number. Call me next week if you want to get together again.” I smile, pocketing her number. I have every intention of calling. Next time I want to hear her come too.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Once upon a time……a woman rings a doorbell.

“Are you busy?” I ask when Rob answers the door.

“Nothing that can’t be put off for an hour or so.” He holds to door open for me.

“Good.” I say walking past him. I slip off my suit jacket, hooking it over the back of a dining room chair. It was a long and difficult day at work and I am filled with restless agitation. “We’re going to bed.” I tell him.

“What? Now?”

“Yep. I want sex. I want sex with you and I want it now. Let’s go.”

Story continued in archive......

A woman rings a doorbell - continued.

“Are you busy?” I ask when Rob answers the door.

“Nothing that can’t be put off for an hour or so.” He holds to door open for me.

“Good.” I say walking past him. I slip off my suit jacket, hooking it over the back of a dining room chair. It was a long and difficult day at work and I am filled with restless agitation. “We’re going to bed.” I tell him.

“What? Now?”

“Yep. I want sex. I want sex with you and I want it now. Let’s go.”

Placing both my palms on his chest I propel him backwards towards his bedroom. Halfway down the hall, he pushes my hands away. “You can’t just show up demanding….” His protests fade, he is distracted. I am slowly undoing the top button of my blouse, revealing the top of my lacey bra and my round breasts. I cup both breasts in my hand and give a low moan. I had only meant to tease him so he’d quit complaining but I am also turning myself on. Good God, I’m easy!

Rob raises an eyebrow. I can practically see his mind working so I go in for the kill. “I’m also wearing the matching panties and the stockings you like.” He gives up, throws his hands in the air and turns towards the bedroom. A flash of conscience demands I pay attention to the fact I am clearly using him but I dismiss it. I don’t really care to be honest. I have been prowling the halls, snapping at small children kind of horny all day; I need to come.

Once inside, I waste no time. Pushing Rob onto the bed, I set to work undoing his pants, working them over his hips and dropping them on the floor. He isn’t quite as ready as I need him to be. My need is rising sharply, I’ve been thinking about this all damn day and I need him fully hard. Now.

A woman on a mission, I start to kiss down his flat stomach, across his hip to the base of his dick and balls. My tongue traces small circles across his balls and up his dick. Then I swallow him, taking him wholly into my mouth. He gets hard almost instantaneously. Good!

When his cock fattens in my mouth I let him go. I don’t want him to come just yet. As far as I’m concerned this is all about me and I am going to ensure I get to come first. Letting him go, I slip my off underwear, hike up my skirt and straddle him. The warmth of his erection pulses on the skin of my inner thigh. This is what I want, what I crave, what I need; heat.

“I’m on top.” I tell him, perhaps stating the obvious. “I need this.” I take his dick in my hand. “I need you” I add thinking perhaps he may want a few pleasantries…. But Rob doesn’t appear to be fighting me off, he doesn’t even argue, he just grins back at me, placing his hands on my hips. Using my hand, I position his dick, taking just the tip inside me. I stop for a second, teasing both him and me with the barely there contact. But then my impatience returns tenfold, so in one swift movement I slide down his shaft until I have taken every long inch of him into me.

No foreplay necessary today; just him, hard inside me, as quickly as possible.

Rocking from side to side I sigh, appreciating how good he feels. I savor the feeling of being completely filled by him. But pretty soon it’s no longer enough, I want more.

Pulling open my shirt I lift my breasts from my bra. I lean forward to offer Rob my nipple. When he sucks it into his mouth, I squirm on his dick with pleasure. He lets go and I lift my breast to my mouth. I can flick my now fully erect nipple with my tongue. He does the same. The sensations of his tongue and mine dancing over my nipple makes me squirm some more. He exhales with a low groan.

My soft breasts press into the hard expanse of his chest when I lean forward to kiss him. A thin sheen of sweat makes his skin slippery and hot to the touch. I kiss his lips, his neck, nibble on his ear and use my tongue to taste the base of his throat. I swear I can taste the heat we are generating.

I sit up. Enough playing. The sexual frustration in me is like a relentless itch. It needs to be released. I play with my tits with both hands while he finds my clit with his fingertips. The contact sends shock waves into my core, transforming the itch into an all consuming need. I start to rock back and forth sliding up and down his dick, slowly at first but soon getting quicker.

My movements are deliberate. I want to push us both over the edge as quickly as possible. Taking his hands I put them on my tits, showing him what I want. My orgasm is already beginning. I tip my head back, arching my back, and push down onto his dick, wanting all of him inside me; so deep I can almost taste him.

Rob thrusts his hips up under me driving himself even further into me. I come hard, squirming and writhing on top of him, riding the wave after wave of wonderful release.

As loud as I am when I come, he is always louder, satisfyingly so. I feel each spasm of his cock as he empties himself into me, which, as usual, triggers my second orgasm. It’s smaller than the first but hell who’s complaining!

Moments later, I am pulling on my underwear, my mind in a blank haze of sexual bliss, my body finally relaxed. Rob is still lying on the bed, “That’s it?” he asks without opening his eyes.

“Yep.” I say, my satisfaction evident in my voice. I finish buttoning my shirt, pick up my shoes and say over my shoulder as I leave, “Thanks that was just what I needed.”

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Some thoughts on fantasies…

I find the differences between what appeals to a woman versus a man fascinating. Typically, we approach our erotic imaginings very differently. I like to know who the characters are, are they likeable? Why are they attracted to each other and what is motivating them? My male friends tell me to please just get to the fucking part…

I imagine women would prefer a story told in the third person (she/he) whereas a man would like the first and second person (me/you). A fantasy for a woman might begin… “Their eyes met across the crowed bar. A spark of attraction flared….”

If I were to write a fantasy for a man it would more likely begin…. “Your dick is in my mouth….”

The first story I posted was written for a man. Which man is unimportant, but it was written to appeal to a man. It’s my understanding men like to hear about (or better yet, watch) women masturbating.

However, the most recent posting I wrote more for a woman. Not only do I like writing for woman, but there clearly isn’t enough erotica available written specifically for woman. And there isn’t nearly enough porn made for the female audience.

So perhaps I’ll alternate. Maybe, if I can figure out how (I’m pretty technologically inept!), I’ll have ‘his’ and ‘her’ sections of the blog, but I’m making no promises… :-)

What does a woman want in a fantasy? What are some of the things which appeal to her senses? What appeals to a man? Are my assumptions about what men and women want horribly wrong? Am I being sexist (or worse, unimaginative)?

All I can tell you for sure is what appeals to me; you’ll have to tell me what appeals to you? You never know; I might even have a story about it…

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Once upon a time in a development not so far away……

.....a woman returns from work.

There is a strange package sitting on my doorstep, it’s little, wrapped in shiny silver paper and tied with a red bow. I look down the street but can see no one outside, it is dinner time and everyone is home with their families. I pick up the package and carry it into the kitchen. With only a little time before I am due at a friend’s house for a birthday party, I grab a simple sandwich and open the package.

Inside is a small vibrator that can be worn inside a pair of underwear. The packaging claims that the vibrator is discreet, fun, has several vibration modes and speeds. I recognize it as the wireless version of the one I already own, so I look for the remote. But it isn’t in with the packaging. I shake the box upside down, a note drops out. It says, “Wear this tonight.”

My heart skips a beat, I suspect I know who it’s from but the type written note gives nothing away. But then again, who else would be sending me sex toys?

The party is on the other side of town. I can always count on good food (but never on time, hence the sandwich), good wine and good conversation at this house. I needed all three. By the time I arrive the party has been in full swing for some time. This is fairly typical. This particular crowd usually has a beer in their hand before they take off their shoes on a Friday.

The cooler on the back deck was nearly full but I manage to wedge in a bottle of white and take the bottle of red into the kitchen. The host of the party kisses me hello and hands me a corkscrew. I offer the wine to those sitting at the table but only one other person takes me up on my offer. This is mostly a beer crowd.

Rob sits at the end of the table with a beer bottle in his hand arguing with the host’s wife about her choice of music for the evening. He looks up when I come in and gives me a casual nod by way of a greeting. The secrecy is exciting but occasionally need to kiss him in public in front of everyone is almost overwhelming. But it’s impossible. It wouldn’t be wise to let anyone know Rob and I are having a relationship. Sleeping with ones employee is certainly not good for ones career. Although, ‘relationship’ is a strong word for what we share; which is mostly bodily fluids and a few laughs. So, I offer an equally casual nod in return and find a seat at the other end of the table.

Immediately a guest asks my opinion about the Presidential campaign and a loud discussion ensues. I do love a good ‘discussion’, I watch with growing interest as people get agitated and start waving their hands around. It’s a strange way to conduct a discussion because as soon as someone’s beer is empty the discussion is put on hold until a fresh beer has been collected from the garage. It’s nice to know we have our priorities straight; arguing is fun, politics is fun, but beer is serious.

Rob passes me on the way to get a new beer. He gives me a half raised eyebrow in question and I give a tiny nod of my head in return. With a slow smile he heads onto the deck. Almost immediately he reappears with beer in hand, I watch him walk down the hallway. I like the way he moves sort of fluid and contained at the same time. With a knowledge born of several intimate meetings, I already know how strong he is. With a very self satisfied smile playing on his face, he slides his hand into his jeans pocket. I almost jump out of my seat. The vibration against my clitoris instantly turns me on but it’s more than that, I am ridiculously aroused by knowing that he has the remote; that he is in control. Usually I like to be in the driving seat but somehow letting him take control is extremely sexy.

Rob returns to his seat at the end of the table while I struggle to remain composed. My heart rate is steadily climbing. A flush climbs up the skin on my neck, I am sure everyone can tell I’m fighting back a moan. Suddenly the vibration stops as he puts both hands on the table. The abrupt cessation of stimulation is at once both a relief and a frustration. I want you to turn it back on but am also afraid that you will.

Fifteen minutes or so passes, the argument at my end of the table has moved on to what food we will be ordering. I can’t think about food. I can’t think about anything except when and if he is going to turn the vibrator on. Every time he moves his hands I tense up, waiting. I’m sure he is aware of this because he starts moving his hands a lot. I narrow my eyes at him but he just gives me a bland smile. Then he turns it on again.

This time I do jump out of my seat. I pretend that I meant to go and get another drink and head onto the deck but walking only increases the friction. By the time I get to the cooler I’m sweating, my breathing is shallow and my legs feel more than a little wobbly. When the vibrator goes quiet, I lean against the siding to calm my breathing before I have to return to the dining room. This is crazy, why am I letting you do this to me?

What if he pushes me so far I have a “When Harry met Sally” moment? Only I wouldn’t be faking it. I can’t do quiet orgasms and if he makes me come in the middle of the dining room, everyone is going to know. I should just go home. But even as I think it I grab the bottle of white wine and turn to walk back into the house. Testing the limit of what we can get away with is part of the fun after all.

The food decision had been made while I was regaining my self-control outside. Pizza. Big surprise. Before too long it’s time to get the food. Rob has let me be for the past ten minutes and I am grateful. But despite myself I want him to turn it back on now. It’s been too long. I shoot him a look but he ignores me. Everyone is arguing over who is going to go and get the food. I don’t care who gets the food as long as they stop talking about it and just get it done. See? Now I’m getting testy. Turn the fucking thing on!

Thankfully, I feel the vibrator start to hum both on my clitoris and inside me. I close my eyes hoping Rob is enjoying himself too. I don’t know what this does for him, but it sure as hell is working for me. This time though he doesn’t let up. He changes the speed, slowing way down before speeding back up, alternating between the part stimulating my clitoris and the part inside my pussy. He shows no signs he plans to stop any time soon.

Within seconds I start to worry that I will lose control. Heat is creeping through my body. My breasts feel full and heavy; needing to be touched. I am wet. The vibration is great but I need more, I need to feel him, to touch him. I shift in my seat but find no relief. People are moving around putting on coats but I can’t focus on anything but what is going on inside me.

Control is rapidly slipping through my fingers; the beginnings of an orgasm are forming deep inside me. I have to get somewhere private and quickly. I push back from the table and with a focused determination which would have impressed Michael Phleps I stroll to the bathroom. Once safely inside, I lock the door, flick on the fan, hoping to cover any noise I may make, and prepare to let Rob push me over the edge. And just as I relax into the building pressure inside me, the bastard shuts it off. Anger replaces arousal quickly; it’s quite possible I might kill him. At the very least I’m going to have to find him and hurt him.

I pull open the door, bouncing it into the wall behind me and run right into him. He pushes me back into the bathroom up against the wall, pinning me. When he kisses me it’s a demanding kiss that scrambles my thoughts. His hands are on my ass pulling me tight against his hips. I can feel his erection through the fabric of his jeans pressing into my thigh.

When I catch my breath I ask where everyone went. Some went to get food and more beer, he explains and the rest went out to check out Dave’s new Lexus.

It dawns on me that we are alone. Rob is already aware of this, obviously I am playing catch up. Of course he doesn’t have the distraction of a vibrator in his underwear. Although the idea has merit…

“We won’t be alone for long.” Rob says, pulling up my skirt. I unbuckle his jeans and before I have time to think he has yanked my panties aside, dislodging the vibrator only to replace it with his fingers. He is not being very gentle, and I like it. One hand is on my breast squeezing me. He kisses me hard as he pushes his fingers deeper inside me.

“You’re wet.” He says with a smirk.

Ya think! I push his jeans over his hips, freeing his dick which I take in my hand. I firmly stroke him, rubbing my thumb over the sensitive head. He sucks in his breath, pulls his fingers out of me, wedges his knees between mine and forces my legs open. Then he is inside me, with one swift thrust. I wrap one leg around him holding him tight to me.

He is so deep inside me. Dear god you feel good! I close my muscles around him trying to draw him in deeper; I don’t think I can ever get enough of him. His hands are all over my breasts. Mine are on his ass, working with his rhythm to pull him into me. I kiss him urgently, pushing my tongue into his mouth; he tastes of beer and salsa.

I hear a noise outside and break the kiss. People are returning to the house. I begin to panic and try to squirm away but he holds me tight. He is still moving inside me, thrusting deeper each time. I lose focus on the people outside, only able to think about how big and smooth and hard he feels inside me.

During the course of the evening I have been pushed to the point of orgasm twice only to have stopped. I don’t want to stop now, despite the risk of getting caught, or maybe because of the risk, I am about to come and nothing will stop me this time. “Don’t stop.” I tell him urgently, “I’m going to come this time you bastard. Fuck me harder.” He laughs roughly and slams so deep into me, I lose my breath.

A wild cry is bubbling up inside me but I muffle it as best I can by burying my face in his neck, biting the exposed skin above his shirt collar. The front door opens, people are spilling back into the house, talking and laughing and I come. Hard. Great waves of pleasure pulse through me, as they subside I feel Rob come too, emptying himself into me with a series of short sharp spasms.

The guests are taking off coats and hats. Rob is still inside me and I love it but we need to move, we are about to be discovered. He slides out of me holding me upright.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh.” I answer, resting my forehead on his chest. My whole body is shaking. My legs have turned to jelly. If he lets me go now I will slide down the wall into a heap on the floor.

Pulling myself together, I hiss “Get out, I have to clean up.”

He grins wolfishly at me. I know what we have done is stupid and risky, but damn it was fun! Rob fastens his jeans as he leaves the bathroom. I watch him head into the dinning room, like nothing happened. How do you do it? My brain is scrambled, my legs are rubber and your semen is dripping down my legs. I’m a mess. And I love it.

When I return to the table, dinner is being dished up. I walk behind Rob on my way to my seat. Slipping the vibrator in his coat pocket, I whisper in his ear “Next time, you wear this.” For a very gratifying second, his cool fa├žade cracks as he contemplates the idea. Playing with you is going to be so much fun!

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Some thoughts on sex...

Anyone with half a brain knows, despite it being 2008, there is still a double standard when it comes to sex. Although society views men pursuing their sexual kicks with a sort of bemused indulgence (boys will be boys, after all), women who like sex are considered creatures of low moral virtue.

We are not tolerated with same slightly amused attitude. We are dirty, unclean; we are bad girls, we are sluts. (I shall return to this idea of ‘slut’ later, I have a love-hate relationship with the word…)

In my not-so humble opinion, sex is a celebration; it is something two (or more) people do together. It’s a natural form of communication. It is NOT something that is done to someone else. Good sex may not require love, but it does require respect, a certain degree of honesty and occasionally a good sense of humor.

So, if I am a ‘slut’ because I like sex, (and fucking and making love; there is room in most relationships for all three I believe) then let me embrace my inner slut. I love her. I cherish her. She is part of me.

If you want to come with me (pun intendedJ) on this journey of sexual exploration, you are welcome. Just mind your manners and we will all get along just fine…

Story continued...

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask a little breathless and a shade embarrassed to have been caught.

“Long enough.” you say with a smirk. “Having fun?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.” I reply tartly, feeling just a little put out by your smug grin.

“It is shame there isn’t enough room in there for me as well.” you say, pushing off the sink. Taking a clean towel from the rack, you unfold it by shaking it out with a snap.

“Maybe I can dry you off.” Your tone is soft and inviting. Something stirs again inside me and I think that perhaps I am not nearly done yet.

As I stand up, the water runs off my body, down my legs and back into the tub. I bend down to pull the plug then straighten again waiting for your next move as the water drains away noisily.

“You’re covered in oil.” You say, licking your lips.

“I know.” I say with a shrug. “I wanted something sweet smelling in the bath water…..” I trail off as you step onto the mat by the tub.

“Put your arms out.”

I do as you ask; you begin to dry my arm so gently the towel feels more like a caress than drying. My skin breaks out in goose bumps as you work your way slowly from finger tips to my shoulder. I watch your face as you carefully dry me. There is a satisfying degree of heat in your eyes.

You do the same for the other arm before you dry my chest and stomach with gentle pats and rubs. While drying my breasts, which seems to take a deliciously long time, you brush your fingers across my nipples. I love your long fingers, I know what they can do to my body; shocks of desire and anticipation run through me.

“Step out onto the mat.” When I obey, you say, “Now spread your legs.”

You squat in front of me to pick up my foot. Placing it on your knee, you begin to dry my toes, ankles, calves and thighs. The breath catches in my throat when you reach my inner thigh. Despite my desperately willing you to move your hand a little higher, you replace my right foot and repeat the process with my left, without actually touching the parts of me that, by now, are aching to be touched by you.

By the end of the sensual rub down I am still damp and slippery with the oil; not to mention wet in other areas. But it’s about time I took back control, I am not a patient lover; I never have been. Pulling your shirt from your jeans I slide it up over your head and off your lovely familiar body. Stepping back I admire how nicely you are put together. You certainly aren’t difficult to look at. I smile.

Closing the gap between us again, I reach up to kiss you on your lips. I feel your smile as I run my tongue between them working my way into your mouth. My soft breasts are pressed into your chest; the skin to skin contact generates more heat than the bath water ever had. My hands skim across your stomach. I am gratified to hear you suck in your breath as I dip my fingers under the waist band. The muscles of your stomach tense under my exploring fingers. One of your hands is tangled in my hair, the other is on my ass, and both are pulling me closer to you.

With the flat of my hand, I push away from you, to squat before you. Now to it’s my turn to administer to you. I take off your shoes and socks but before I stand up, I nuzzle your crotch through your jeans, enjoying the feel of the semi-hardness of your dick while looking forward to making you fully hard soon.

Still kneeling in front of you, I undo your jeans, slide them over your hips and let them fall to the floor. After I help you step out of your pants, I cup your balls in my hand stroking your dick with my thumb, enjoying watching your eyes grow wide before they start to glaze over.

My next kiss is more demanding, pushing my tongue into your mouth, nipping your lower lip. The hand on my round butt cheek pulls me even closer; grinding your erection into my thigh. I moan into your mouth. Already aroused from the rub down, I am not going to need much more encouragement. I need to feel you inside me soon.

“I want you to fuck me.” I whisper in your ear.

You don’t need to be told twice and you pick me up. I wrap my long legs around your waist as you walk into the bedroom. Dropping me down on bed, you push my legs apart with your knees then crawl onto the bed between my legs. The movement forces me to scoot back until we are both in the middle of the bed. I prop myself up on my elbows to look up at you. You are lovely to look at; strong and confident and sexy.

I tell you how much I love having sex with you, how I need to feel the weight of your body on mine, how I want your hot mouth on my lips and my breasts, how much I love having you between my legs. You kiss me again with a new sense of urgency. I respond by pulling you down to me.

I can feel the heat of your erection nudging my clitoris. Desperately needing you inside me, I push my hips up to meet yours. I smile widely as you push into me. How do I love this moment, when you first enter me, stretching me, filling me completely? This has to be the best feeling in the world, but then you start to move inside me and I think that this has to be the best feeling in the world.

As you move in long smooth strokes I feel the pressure build inside me. I dig my nails into your ass and wrap my leg around you tightly. You drive into me deeply and I hold you there.

“Don’t move.” I say. I wiggle my hips under you as you remain buried deep in my pussy. You are still and let me do the work. I roll my hips and rock from side to side. I hear you gasp for breath as I writhe under you.

“Do you like this?” I ask a little out of breath. I like it, I can tell you that much.

“Yes. But I can’t hold still much longer.”

“Then don’t. Fuck me.”

You pull almost all the way out before driving back into me, twice, three times. I can feel another orgasm building and I give myself over to you and the sheer pleasure of good sex. With a cry, I come so hard that I pull you over the edge with me. The muscles in my vagina spasm around your dick, sucking you dry. You empty yourself into me with a sharp exhale of breath. I love feeling you come inside me. We collapse on the bed when we are done; panting and sweaty.

“Time for another bath.” I say but you are already closing your eyes.

“Uh huh,” you agree, “right after this nap.”

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Once upon a time, in a bathroom not so far away… A woman takes a bath.

The water is almost too hot to bear which is exactly how I like it. The oils I put in the tub smell sweet and spicy. A little on the exotic side, it makes me think of tropical islands or maybe far away jungles.

A friend loaned me a book of erotic stories which I take with me into the bath. I read a couple of stories about threesomes. I also read a story about a couple who went to a swinger’s party and the wife had sex with three different men while her husband watched.

I put the book down and closed my eyes, sinking under the water until just my nose and mouth were above the surface. I wish I had a big old fashioned claw foot tub, but I don’t, my bath tub is far too short for me to stretch out. I do the best I can by propping my feet on the wall either side of the over-flow drain; legs bent, knees falling outward. This way the rest of me can float. The only sound I can hear is my own heart beating. It soothes me into almost a dream-like state.

My breasts float to the surface. Warm water swirls around them as I shift in the tub. I can feel my nipples tighten as they are exposed to the cooler bathroom air. The stories I had read are mingling in my mind until all I can think about is one long orgy of sexual fantasy. I realize I am turned on by the idea of having sex with one man while another watches. As images form in my mind, I absently trace circles on my thigh with my fingertips. Before long my hand has worked its way between my legs and I am playing with my clitoris. My other hand is stroking the soft skin under my bobbing breasts.

My head is still under the water and the steady sound of my heart beat has been joined by the sound of my slightly labored breathing. Keeping my eyes tightly closed I concentrate on the combined sensations of warm water, cool air and my hands sliding over my skin which is slick with bath oil. I cup my breast brushing my thumb over my nipple. It is a hard nub in an ocean of softness and warmth. I roll the nipple again, more firmly this time under my thumb and feel a response deep inside me. I push two of my fingers into my vagina trying to find the place which responded. I moan quietly into the steamy air.

I enjoy masturbating. I like my vagina. I like the way it feels when I put my fingers inside me; the silky, wet, folds that seem to suck my fingers in. I briefly wonder what it feels like to a man when he sinks his dick deep into me. I know that I like that feeling! I also like the way my vagina smells and tastes on a man’s lips and recently I have been wondering what other women’s vaginas feel, smell and taste like.

With one hand between my legs and the other teasing my breast I start to wind myself up to an orgasm. I stroke the front wall of my pussy with my fingers, curling my hand so I can cup my pubic bone applying pressure to my clit in the process. My other hand switches from breast to breast teasing my nipples until they are hard. They ache with the need for more. I arch my back as I pinch one nipple, pushing my fingers as deep inside my wet pussy as they will go. My skin is flushed with more than just the heat of the water. My breath is coming in short sharp pants. I am so close to coming I can feel the muscles of my pussy tensing around my fingers. My orgasm bursts, spreading from my core to engulf the rest of my convulsing body.

As the after shocks pass, I relax into the warm water again feeling just as liquid on the inside at the water surrounding me. I open my eyes and jump a mile, sloshing water all over the bathroom floor. You are leaning against the bathroom sink with you arms folded and your feet crossed at the ankles.

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask a little breathless and a shade embarrassed to have been caught playing with myself.

“Long enough.” you say with a smirk. “Having fun?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.” I reply feeling a little put out by your smug grin.

“It is shame there isn’t enough room in there for me.” you say, pushing off the sink. Taking a clean towel from the rack you open it up, holding it out for me. “Maybe I can dry you off.” Your tone is soft and inviting. Something stirs again inside me and I think that perhaps I am not nearly done yet.

Come back soon to find out what happens next...