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...