The real-life adventures of a girl who is willing to try just about anything.

Monthly Archive: February 2012

Delectable Diva – part 3

(If you’re behind, you want to go here for part one, and here for part two)

I was full of anxious antici… PATION (sorry, couldn’t resist!) all day at work on Friday. I don’t think the day could have dragged on any longer. I was planning on ducking out at least half an hour early, but my supervisor was hovering in the parking lot having an after-hours conversation with a guy from another department. So instead I spent some time shopping for shoes online.  Since I was very disappointed at not getting a new outfit the night before, I thought I would compensate by picking up a new pair of shoes. Payless had a really cute pair of high-heeled Mary Janes that looked like they would go very well with the outfit I had planned.

Imagine my displeasure when I get there and see them in person, only to find out that the non-leather parts are this nappy fabric that would obviously pick up so much lint that they would soon be gray. In fact, the material reminded me of a lint brush! I am very particular about shoes and there wasn’t anything else in which I was interested, so I left and went home.
I’d been craving sushi for at least a week, so Roland and I headed over to my favorite sushi restaurant, Sushi Cafe. Their sushi is always very fresh and tasty, never fishy. Also the service has always been very prompt and friendly, in addition to the laid-back environment. I ordered my usuals: a dancing eel roll, a green dragon roll, a baby octopus nigiri, and a surf clam nigiri. Knowing what the night had in store, I also ordered some hot sake! Roland  is not really a big fan, but the waitress misunderstood that the sake was just for me, so she brought out the large, 2-person serving. Roland  did have one cup, but the rest was all mine. And gladly! We enjoyed our dinner and by the time we were done, I was feeling very warm and buzzy. The evening was off to a great start!
There were still a couple of hours to kill since we wouldn’t be meeting at the club until 10pm, so I surfed around the web for a bit until it was time to go shower and get ready. My lingering sake buzz helped me to not be so nervous. Also, I was chatting online with my girl, Jane, who decided that she wanted to come out and join us at the club as well. I knew our Diva wouldn’t mind, as she is of a friendly sort. Finally it was time to go shower and get ready.
After I got out of the shower, I took a bit of time to carefully apply my makeup. I was most self-conscious about this part of getting ready for a couple of reasons. Our Diva was a bona fide burlesque performer, so I knew she could do makeup to perfection. And I planned on wearing false eyelashes, something at which I’d heretofore been mostly unsuccessful. Amazingly enough, I got all of my makeup applied with almost zero frustration and outbursts or tears. That’s really a rare occurrence for me. I was extremely pleased with the results.
Now came the time to get dressed. The outfit I’d selected for the evening was a cute pink and black plaid skirt and corset top ensemble I’d picked up from Torrid forever ago along with some black lace-topped thigh-high stockings with bows and black lacy panties underneath. The final touch were some chunky black platform heels. I didn’t really do much with my hair except pin it up and back on both sides with little hair clips. I was ready to go.
Because I took so long getting ready, we were running about half an hour to 45 minutes late. We had no idea what time the supposed burlesque show was going to start, but most importantly, I felt bad about keeping our Diva waiting. Thankfully Roland  had texted her so that she would not be concerned that we were standing her up.  It was no surprise to me that when we found her inside, she was surrounded by a group of people. Upon looking up to see  Roland and I approaching, she beamed and quickly excused herself from the group to meet us halfway.
Had I recounted this evening a lot sooner after it happened, right here I would be able to describe in detail exactly what she was wearing. However, as time has faded some minor details of that night, all I can tell you is that she was gorgeous in mostly black, including a corset, skirt and thigh-high stockings with an adorable fascinator in her luxurious red hair. All of those details are eclipsed by what I have been unable to forget: her bright, dancing eyes; her exuberant smile with a hint of wickedness; and her big, infectious laugh.  Roland introduced us and we immediately embraced, which involved me bending down because she was a fair bit shorter than I, especially since I am naturally tall and was wearing platform heels while she was in flats. 
The three of us moved over to the bar, ordered drinks, and took seats on the bar stools so she and I could finally talk face-to-face. I was still nervous but completely captivated by her. We really didn’t get to chat for long because the show was about to begin. Once the show began, we left Roland at the bar to wait for Jane so we move to a better vantage point from which to watch. There were some booths on a raised platform across from the stage, so we grabbed one of those. Roland and Jane joined us only moments later.
The so-called burlesque show doesn’t really bear mentioning other than that is what gave us the opportunity to meet up with our Diva. The performances were lackluster and the hostess/MC was pretty drunk. I was actually embarrassed that it was all our town had to offer in the way of this form of entertainment, considering Diva actually performs in top-notch, real burlesque shows herself. But I think she got a kick out of it anyway.
After the show ended, they were playing our favorite 90s gothy dance songs, so she and I took to the dance floor for a bit. We danced for long enough to make us both flushed, a bit sweaty and very thirsty. We returned to our drinks, Roland and Jane in the booth. Right about then, the music changed and we all decided to move out to the patio for a change of scenery and to get some fresh air.
Outside, we could actually hear ourselves talk, so it gave Diva and I a chance to really talk. The more we talked, the more enamored with her I became. As it turns out, she and I shared a wealth of almost overlapping history and a mutual circle of friends due to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It seems that I entered our local scene right about the time she was getting out of it. As with many things resulting from RHPS, I felt a bond being forged between us. I felt that the time for getting to know each other verbally was coming to a close because I could no longer resist the need to get to know her carnally.

His words – Breaking T

As I’ve mentioned a few times recently, the weekend before last, I made my first trip ever to a public dungeon. While I have not yet had a chance to detail the experience in my own words, I give you now the words of my love about the evening in question. Please look for my perspective shortly.



The sights and sounds washed over us as we crossed the threshold of the dungeon. The sharp crack of leather on flesh and cries of ecstatic pain penetrated through the din of the crunchy guitar chords piped in via the soundsystem. Everywhere there were toys being used – of both the inanimate and the human varieties.

In the far corner an older fellow in a kilt and tall boots was flogging a nearly naked woman’s back on the St. Andrew’s Cross. Near the door another woman was laid face down on a table with her legs open while her partner tortured her thighs and nether regions with firm, bare-handed slaps. In the center of the room, the dungeon’s owner was suspending two nude ladies in a lattice-work of white ropes from a metal hook hanging down from the ceiling.

For everyone in our group, this was our first trip to the Woodshed, and it was a lot for us all to take in. The more vanilla and inexperienced among us simply had to find a safe place to stand and soak it up for a bit. Others in our group, however, felt like children stepping into the biggest candy store they had ever seen. My girl, T, was of course among this latter group.

It was a busy Saturday night, so all of the stations were currently in use. This was probably for the best as there was so much to absorb, and this gave everyone time to process everything we were seeing and hearing. Eventually, however, the kilted gentleman unbound his partner from the cross. The scene had ended and he wrapped her lovingly in a blanket and led her away to the couches.

As a group, the seven of us made our way over to the now vacant cross. Nearby was an old-fashioned shoe-shine bench used for bootblacking. I perched there for a better view of the happenings in the room and watched as my girl helped prepare her intended victim for a beating. Once her friend was in place, T turned to me and asked if she could be next on the Cross – with my hand swinging the toys. I agreed, then settled back to alternately watch the scene in front of me and to scan the room for other ongoing scenes.

I was watching a young athletic fellow flog a naked blonde on a nearby pommel horse when I heard T call my name. She had finished with her friend and was now ready to take her place. I stepped down to examine the spread of toys that she had been using. I still had limited experience with inflicting pain on her so we discussed the implements and the nuances of each. She also advised me of the order in which she might prefer to receive them.

While I continued to survey the toys, she removed her blouse and skirt, revealing a black bra and delicate black lace panties that perfectly framed her round cheeks. Black thigh-high stockings completed the look. The bra came off as well before she turned her back to me and cradled her head in her own arms against the hard wood of the Cross.

As a starter I grabbed the smallest flogger, which was appropriately black and blue leather. I stepped back and began striking her about the shoulders for a warm up. The flogger was light and speedy, but didn’t give me a very satisfying feeling when it impacted her bare flesh. I tried different angles, different speeds, and switching my target area to her smooth ass cheeks. I needed something bigger. Heavier.

I picked up the next flogger in line, which had soft purple and black buckskin tails twice as long as the previous one, and gave it a few test swings on my open palm. Then I returned my attention to her backside. More rhythmic slapping of soft leather on softer skin. Her shoulders were becoming slightly rosy, as were the cheeks hanging out of the black lace panties. But it still wasn’t enough.

The next flogger I chose was one that I had used on her just a few days prior – Valentine’s Day to be exact. This is one that I liked best and was most comfortable with. It was heavier and thicker than the other two, made from black leather suede with tails a couple of inches shorter than the last. I continued the beating. After a few minutes, I paused and pulled one of her pigtails back so that I could kiss her on the lips. Then I rubbed her down and continued the flogging. I changed pace and technique. Up to this point I had been using forward and backhand swings. Now I gathered the tails of the flogger in to my free hand instead and snapped it on her ass – much like popping someone with a rolled up towel.

She jumped, and the dungeon faded into the background.

I lost track of time as I continued to make her dance and writhe on the cross. Angry red blotches began to appear on her ass as I continued to pop it with the flogger. I don’t know where I was – I found a place inside my head that I had never visited before. It was scary and dark, but also warm and relaxing.

From the flogger I moved to the leather paddle. It made a gratifying slapping sound each time it impacted her rosy cheeks and the backs of her thighs. Her dance had begun to be more frantic as each impact caused her to reflexively shift away from me, but I held her firmly to the wood.

I gave up the paddle in favor of the riding crop now, precision-stinging tender spots – the angry red blotches on her ass, the inside of the thigh. She raised her foot as I struck the back of her knee. I struck the back of the other knee, and again the foot came up off the floor as a new step was added to her dance. I grabbed her outstretched ankle and popped the bottom of her foot with the crop. She pulled away – almost completely away from the Cross.

I placed my hand on the back of her neck. I leaned in close and uttered a single word just loud enough for her to hear.

“Behave.”

Something between a sigh and a moan escaped her lips as she lowered her head into her arms and visibly melted into the wood of the St. Andrew’s Cross.

The beating continued with the riding crop – much the same as it had before, but this time, her flinching dance had ceased completely. After a few more minutes I sensed that she had enough and I gently caressed her pink shoulders, rubbed the bruised cheeks, and turned her towards me to kiss her gently and hold her.

She gazed up into my eyes for a long moment.

“What’s that look for?” I asked.

“Don’t you know this face?” she asked in return.

“No. Tell me.”

“This is my ‘worshipping you’ face,” she stated.

“Prove it,” I demanded, as I stepped back and pointed to the floor between us.

Slowly, she got down on her knees, then looked up at me expectantly.

“Kiss them,” I commanded, pointing at my shoes.

Without a word or a second of hesitation, the brassiest, most independent woman I’ve ever known, prostrated herself before me.

Even now, reading this for the countless time, it still makes me giggle and glow. And want to curl up at his feet where I belong.

Follow along to my perspective of those events.

TMI Tuesday – Sex and Romance

This week’s TMI Tuesday is about sex and romance. Who doesn’t enjoy a little romance or the art of seduction before engaging in sex? Often times the prelude is better than the actual ‘event’.

1. You are sitting alone in a restaurant because your lunch date is late. Do you:
a) Throw something and then make out with the waiter.
b) Check to make sure he or she didn’t get into an accident, then wait patiently for two hours and use the time to compose a love song or poem.
c) Send a nasty text followed up by a voice mail telling him/her that “romance is dead and so are you!”
d) Wait for 20 minutes, and then text-message a pal to join you for lunch.

D. I can’t really be upset when someone is late to anything with me, because I often have a bad habit of being late myself. However, I think 20 minutes would be long enough to wait. Of course, depending on the intentions for the date, maybe instead of texting someone else to join me, I’ll try to pick up someone who is already there. πŸ˜‰

2. What’s more important, a romantic relationship or your career?

Right now, without a doubt, I would pick my relationship over my career. My man is the most amazing boyfriend/partner I’ve ever had. He loves me and supports me unconditionally, and while I only have a job right now and not a career, without his support and encouragement I would never be able to have a career at all.

3. You love to role play in the bedroom, which one of these is more likely to be your kink?
a. Doctor and the naughty nurse
b. You’re the gardener, I’m the hoe
c. Persnickety principal and the wayward pupil that needs a spanking
d. Me Tarzan, you Jane
e. Scattered-brain boss and the seductive secretary

D. Since my love has recently discovered that he likes spanking my ass and giving me rosy cheeks, of the scenarios listed this would be the one we are most likely to role play.

However, my real choice would be F. A slutty hooker and her john, especially after reading this hot story just now. *fans self* He and I love to pretend sometimes that I am just some random slut that he picks up, even if it’s only really dirty talk. To actually go out and pretend to be a hooker and have him pick me up would be the ultimate role play fantasy!

4. When you want sex, who tends to make the first move?
a. Me! I like to go for what I want.
b. It varies. Sometimes my partner/significant other/date or sometimes me.
c. Oh definitely the other person. Even if I want it, I’m not about to admit such a thing.
d. I drop subtle hints hoping he/she will pick up on it.

B. It really does vary and can easily be any of the above choices. Please see my previous entry, “Asking for sex.”

5. When it comes to lovemaking, select the answer that best describes you/your attitudes
a. vanilla – meets society’s middle of the road standards
b. adventurous
c. kinky
d. trisexual – I will try anything once, twice if I like it, three times to make sure.  β€“Mae West

D. Most definitely. I am an experience junkie. I will try things just for the sake of trying them. I will never be the girl who looks back with regret at the things I didn’t do. And even if I don’t enjoy something, I almost never regret having given it a shot! 

6. You want to seduce that sexy someone, what is the sweet-nothing that you’ll whisper in his/her ear?

It probably shouldn’t be, but that’s a really tough questions. It really depends on the person being seduced. If it’s some random guy, usually it’s enough to say, “I’m not wearing any panties,” because guys really can be that easy. If it’s a girl I’ve been lusting after for quite some time, “I can’t wait to feel if your cunt is as wet as mine.” If it’s my man, I love to tell him that I’ve been craving his magnificent cock all day. 

Bonus: What’s your idea of a romantic getaway?

I just had a romantic getaway last weekend. It involved a 2-bedroom villa with jacuzzi at a 5-star resort, a champagne limo ride to and from a public dungeon, and sex galore. More details on that soon…

β€”β€”β€”β€”-

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 tmituesdayblogfrom your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Sinful Sunday – On the way home

I’m so behind on all of my blogging, but hopefully I’ll be caught up soon. I can’t miss out on Sinful Sunday, though!

This picture was taken this past Monday when we were driving home from Orlando. Sitting on my tender bruised tushy and reliving my first trip to the dungeon on Saturday night over and over in my mind made me unbelievably horny. Adding fuel to the fire were thoughts of all of the possibilities now that our relationship has added a new dynamic. I still get all swoony. I could not keep my hands off my pussy. I also could not get off, no matter how hard I tried. But it didn’t stop me from trying! πŸ˜‰

My poor, abused clitty

Posted in participation with Sinful Sunday, hosted by Molly’s Daily Kiss.
Click below to see who else has their hands in their pants this Sunday.

Wanton Wednesday – Taking it all off

For my first foray into Wanton Wednesday I am happy to see that the theme is for animated gifs. A long, long time ago, when I was just discovering what a smutty, voyeuristic, exhibitionist girl I am, I had a friend take some photos of me and make them into an animated gif. He directed every pose. These were taken and combined on April 29, 1999.

So young and innocent. Did I really think this was sexy?
Ahh, the days of old. I made this for a man I was talking to in Alaska, who thoroughly enjoyed it.

Posted in participation with Wanton Wednesday hosted by Dangerous Lilly.
Click below to see who else may be bearing their souls this Wednesday.

Content goes here

Tonight I just wanted to make a quick post, a quick recap of recent events. But SO MUCH has happened that I find it hard to narrow it all down, to just give the abridged version. I’m not very good at glossing over details. Really there’s just one thing I want to talk about, above all others.

With that being said, I’m finding it most difficult to find the words to even begin to talk about this weekend. It was beyond a doubt THE! BEST! weekend of my life up to this point. I have not been able to wipe off this giddy, shit-eating, blushing grin off my face for the past two days. It is just not possible to describe the happiness that I feel right now. I am alternately swooning and giggling and feeling faint and gasping for air and leaking tears of joy. The only phrase that comes close to capturing this level of emotion is, “my cup runneth over” and how incredibly cliche is that??

Right now I am more in love than I have ever been. And I feel truly and completely ownedβ€”mind, body, and soul. For the first time, I feel like I truly belong to someone. With someone. And nothing can make me feel more content than that.

Sinful Sunday – Cheeks ablaze

Last night I went to the Happiest Place on Earth. No, fuck that giant rodent that rules central Florida. I’m talking about a wondrous place in Orlando called the Woodshed. Although only two hours to the south, somehow I’d never been before. It will not be long before they know me on a first name basis by my ass, if I have my way about it. πŸ˜‰ More to come about that soon. Until then, let me share with you the happiness of our glowing cheeks.

mmmm… I love to be in the middle

Posted in participation with Sinful Sunday, hosted by Molly’s Daily Kiss.
Click below to see who else is being cheeky this Sunday…

Losing it

In at least this post (by the absolutely divine Lady Grinning Soul, who I can’t imagine you’re not reading, but if you are not, you MUST!) and several tweets this past week, the subject of losing one’s virginity has been tossed about. As this is a topic I’ve had on a list for myself anyway, now seems like the perfect time to jump on it.

But first, a note that some might find curious. I do not consider the instance of losing my virginity the same as the first time I had sex. I’m sure you’ll understand as you read on. πŸ™‚

I lost my virginity when I was 16 (and a half). The “honor” was supposed to go to the love of my life at the time, Chuck. It almost happened, too, one night when my sister and I had snuck (sneaked?) out of my bedroom window to hang out with him and his best friend, Marlan. However, he and I both had the restraint to know it should happen somewhere slightly more dignified than atop a washing machine in the coin laundry at the back of the apartment complex in our neighborhood. I wouldn’t finally have sex with Chuck for more than another 8 months (and it still wouldn’t be my first time) but through a strange chain of events, I did lose my virginity to his best friend exactly one month later. That’s really not as bad as it sounds.
Quick aside: My sister (2 years my junior) and I were very close in high school and were often partners in crime. Crime being sneaking out and skipping school. My mother was very overbearing and overprotective, not allowing us any sort of freedom to be regular teenagers. So we took our freedom where we could. We didn’t really do a whole helluva lot during those excursions. Sometimes Chuck would drive us around the general vicinity of where we lived, or down to the beach. Sometimes we’d go to someone’s house and hang out. Sometimes we would just wander our neighborhood. In retrospect, we were two very careless but VERY lucky girls, because nothing bad ever happened to us.
The night I lost my virginity actually began the night before that. My sister and I had once again snuck out to roam the streets of our neighborhood. After a bit, we met up with Marlan, his brother, and another guy from the neighborhood, Ronnie (no, not for anything like that!). As you can imagine, at 1am in the morning there really isn’t much to do out on the streets for a group of teenagers with no car (for reasons I can’t recall, Chuck and his car were not around that night). We quickly grew bored. Marlan’s brother decided to just go home and go to bed. The remaining 4 of us decided to sneak back into my room. I stole one of my grandmother’s beers from the fridge (yes, just one, so daring!) and brought it back to my room.
Passed around, the single can of beer did not last very long. Our next bright idea was to play a game of Spin the Bottle/7 Minutes in Heaven. However, we did not have a bottle so we used an aerosol canister just like this one instead.

And with only 4 people, the game had to be modified a bit. The plan was person 1 would spin and then whoever it landed on would spin. If it landed back on person 1, provided it was someone of the opposite sex, then they would go into the closet. If not, it would keep going around until it went 1-2-1. And so the game began. 
It needs to be said here, I had no desire or intention to make out with either of these guys. Ronnie (his family were called the Roachheads… you know how mean kids are) was gross and I knew my sister had a thing for Marlan. They were left alone together the night of the aforementioned laundromat incident, and while they didn’t have sex, I assume they at least made out. So really, I set this up for my sister’s benefit. Because I’m a good sister like that. Or something. And I had a boyfriend anyway. No, not Chuck. He was just my best friend. My boyfriend was Bo. We’ll get to him later. What?? I was a teenager! No judging! πŸ˜›
Anyway, the game went for a few rounds before the necessary conditions were met. For brevity’s sake (and because I don’t remember the EXACT way it went down), we’ll say it went something like this: me > Ronnie (shudder) > my sister > me (weird) > Marlan > me. Rut roh! I just kinda froze. Marlan said, “What? You don’t think I’ll do it? I’ll do it!” I looked at my sister, who looked very disinterested, so I looked back at Marlan and replied in a daring tone I didn’t really feel, “Oh, I’ll do it too, I don’t care!” He replied, “All right, let’s do this then.” And with another brief look at my sister who was still uninterested, he and I went into my closet and shut the door.
We didn’t start kissing right away. We talked for a bit first. I told him that I was surprised he wanted to do this with me, that I thought he liked my sister. (Quick note about my sister: everybody liked my sister more because she was 14 with DDs. Quick note about Marlan: he was the “it” boy and always had a new girlfriend. Quick note about me: my sister had DDs, so my Cs couldn’t compare and I didn’t get a lot of attention.) He said he did, but that he has liked me ever since he found out that I was that girl from the third grade. 
A bit of history: I moved around a lot as a kid. 21 different schools between kindergarten and high school graduation. No, my parents weren’t in the military, they just always hoped the grass would be greener somewhere else. I did, however go to the same school here in my hometown from second until fifth at the same elementary school and started the sixth grade center with the same kids. One of whom was Marlan. I think he was actually in my second, third, AND fourth grade classes. But in third grade, he bet $1 against his best friend, Wade, that he could get me to “go out with him” first. I was a very popular, pretty, smart, blonde-haired little girl and they were both cute little Cub Scouts. So they both set to writing me those “Do you like me? Will you be my girlfriend? Check yes or no” notes. But Wade’s desk was closer, so I got his note first, and said yes immediately. Poor Marlan lost $1, which in 1985 was still a decent amount of money for a little kid.
I moved away about 6 weeks into sixth grade, but we moved back here for good in 1990. Over Christmas break of that year, we moved into the house where this story takes place. As a result I ended up going to the same high school as I would’ve attended had we never moved away. This little bit of third grade history had only recently been discovered by Marlan. I remembered him immediately by name, but not specifically that incident. However, upon recounting people and things we remembered, I mentioned going out with Wade and thus jogged Marlan’s memory.
After Marlan said that he liked me, he kissed me. I remember thinking that he smelled like corn dogs and deodorant. We kissed for a bit, but then he stopped to tell me that I’m a much better kisser than my sister. Then the making out really commenced.

I don’t know for sure how long we were in the closet, but it was much longer than 7 minutes. We were in there so long that when we finally came out, my sister and Ronnie had snuck back out the window because they were bored waiting for us. So we went to go find them.

They hadn’t gone very far, just around the block. I think we walked around for maybe half an hour before we decided to call it a night. We all made plans to meet up again the following night.

The next night, my sister and I anxiously awaited for my mom to leave for work. We gave her our usual 15-minute window and then out my window we went. We walked around for about an hour without running into anyone and even went to Marlan’s house to toss pebbles at his window, but got no response. Finally we decided we were tired, gave up, and went home.

Once we got home, we changed into our pajamas and crawled into bed. She and I were sharing a room and a full-sized bed at that point, because someone was living with us and she didn’t want to share a room with our youngest sister. I had just closed my eyes when I heard tapping at my window. It was Marlan. My sister said she wasn’t going out again, that she was going to sleep. So I let him into the window and he and I went into the closet again, closing the door behind us.

We did more talking than making out that night, probably for a couple of hours, at least. Finally he leaned over and kissed me. Again, I noticed he smelled like corn dogs. We only made out for a few minutes before he said he wanted to have sex. Thinking about it right now and looking back, I can’t remember that moment at all. So many other tiny details of that night are crystal clear, but that one is wrapped in haze. I don’t know exactly what he said to me or what my response was. Like I said, before the previous night, I hadn’t really had much interest in him at all. So it’s not like I was just waiting for him to ask.

At any rate, the space in my closet was really too cramped to do anything more than make out, so we opened the closet door and peeked out. My sister was asleep and snoring. The clock read 4:11am. We stretched out on the floor at the foot of my bed, half in and half out of the closet.

For the next few minutes, everything happened very quickly. He got on top of me and kissed me. We took our clothes off: me only my shorts and panties, he everything but his socks. He fingered my pussy briefly. When he started to get on top of me again, I asked him if he had a condom. He stopped and replied that he didn’t. We just laid there for a minute.

Believe me when I tell you that I know now and I definitely knew then how ridiculous this next part was. It all happened so fast that I didn’t really have time to think or to react rationally. So please, forgive that poor, stupid 16-year-old girl.

He said to me, “If I go pee first, it will be okay.”

“You can’t use my bathroom! My grandmother is asleep on the couch!”

Instead he climbed out my bedroom window wearing only his socks and pissed in my backyard. He was back in under a minute.

He lay on top of me again, not even bothering to kiss me first. He was moving between my legs and I just kind of laid there, stunned at what had just happened, waiting for it to be over. I didn’t want to do this, but I didn’t know how to stop this series of events. I don’t want to give the impression that I was raped, by any means, because I did consent, even if I didn’t want to do it. He was having trouble entering me and I asked him if he needed help down there. He said that he did not and finally put his small penis into my vagina. Thirty seconds later it was all over. You’ve heard the expression “2 pumps and a dump”? That’s literally how it was. He went in-out-in-out and then shot a little pool on my belly. I’ve always said it felt better when he fingered me than when he fucked me, and his fingers were bigger, too.

After he spewed, he laid down on the floor next to me for less than a minute. Then he told me that I’m a better lay than my sister is. I kid you not. Again, exact words escape me here, but that’s the gist. I asked him when he fucked her and he told me it was two weeks prior. He got up, put on his clothes, lit a cigarette, said he had to get home before his dad woke up, and left out the window. I glanced at the clock. It was 4:18am. I had not moved at all since he came back in the window from pissing in my backyard.

All I could think about was that I couldn’t believe I’d made sex out to be such a big deal. That was it??? I’d been thinking and obsessing about it for my whole life. My biggest fear was dying a virgin. One of my common phrases for how much I didn’t want to do something was, “I’d rather die a virgin.” Yet there it was. Over. Done with. And I felt nothing.

I got up, pulled on my panties and shorts, went to the bathroom to clean his cum off my belly and pee. Numbly, I went to bed and fell asleep. It was October 10, 1991.

My alarm clock went off a few hours later and somehow I dragged myself out of bed to catch the bus to go to school. On the short ride to school, my sister and I decided that we didn’t feel like going. Once we arrived at school and got off the bus, we immediately met up with her friend and my best friend and the 4 of us walked off campus, in the direction of my house. There is a community college between my high school and my neighborhood, and when we skipped school we would walk there to catch the city bus to go wherever we wanted to go instead. Halfway across the college campus, we ran into Marlan and his brother, making their late walk to school since they’d missed the bus. His brother went on to school, but we’d convinced Marlan to skip school with us to go to my sister’s friend’s house.

He did not speak a single word to me that entire day, but instead spent the whole day trying to fuck my best friend. At first she was buying into his charm, until I told her about the night before and then she was having none of it.

The funniest part of the story is that my sister got in contact with him a few years later. They were hanging out one night and she brought him home to see me. (She had moved in with me and my roommates during her senior year of high school.) That night, he tried to get me to fuck him again. I laughed in his face. I wanted to say, “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not remember that I’ve already been there and done that??” Instead, through some chain of events that I no longer recall, I got a picture of him naked, wearing only my black bra. I just spent 15 minutes fruitlessly digging through some boxes to find it so I could scan and post it. Don’t worry, I know I still have it somewhere and I WILL find it. πŸ˜‰

TMI Tuesday – Happy Valentine’s Day

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

Whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or think it’s a consumer-oriented, manipulative and shallow interpretation of romance, just have yourself some fun by answering these TMI Tuesday questions.


1. Cupid is the god of desire, affection, and erotic love. As the myth goes, a person who is shot by Cupid’s arrow is filled with uncontrollable desire. On your behalf, who would you like Cupid to shoot?

Out of anyone in the whole world? Hrm… I really can’t think of anyone. I am surrounded by the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful, immensely lovable and fuckable people in the world. And either I’ve had them, or will have them in my not-too-distant future, lol. However, there are some lovely folks on my Twitter over there in the UK and on the West Coast (yes, I’m talking to YOU! <3)…

Although, if we want to dip into the true fantasy realm of celebrity crushes, I would begin with Johnny Depp, Marisa Tomie, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Scarlett Johanssen, Ryan Reynolds, Jeff Goldblum, Jude Law, Clive Owen, Monica Belucci… but that’s boring.

OH! I KNOW! The cute pole dancer at our fave gay club that I like to call Pigtails! πŸ˜€


2. Earlier in the evening you had dinner at the Fook Yue Chinese Restaurant. You are feeling quite amorous. You open a fortune cookie in the bedroom. Three fortunes appear:
1- “Your patience will be rewarded.”  What would you like that reward to be?
See my answer below, lol.

2- “Try something new.”  What is the something new you want to try?
The only new thing I have been dying to try is being with two guys at once with and without double penetration. Because I’ve never done that before. Which is pretty shocking considering my sexual history. But somehow, it’s never happened. I’ve been in negotiations with my man to make this happen, so hopefully (probably NOT today for VDay) soon I can strike that from my list of never-dones.
3- ” ’tis better to give than receive.”  What would you like to give?
I’m always about giving mind-blowing, toe-curling, body-quaking, sheet-soaking, screaming orgasms. What about you? πŸ˜‰
3. If you were to write a special Valentine message (e.g., card, letter, etc.) what is that message?
To the only man that has ever captured me (without trying) and successfully kept me (without caging me), thank you for being a part of my life and allowing me to share the most intimate parts of you and our lives. I love you to the ends of the earth and back, until such time that time does not exist. You complete me. I am yours. <3
4. Are you doing something special for Valentine’s day or is it just another day?
I waver back and forth on this. I didn’t even think about what day it was until this morning as I was about to get dressed and my love came up behind me and delivered several stinging smacks to my ass, followed by a “Happy Valentine’s Day, schmoopie.” (Yes, that’s what he really calls me and it makes me want to giggle with glee. I call him Big Poppa. hehe) It’s never been a big deal for us. Sometimes it makes me sad that it’s not, but then on years like today when it’s just another day, he apparently has made some special, secret plans. πŸ™‚
5. You must give chocolate to your secret Valentine for Valentine’s Day. The chocolate is in the shape of your what?
My tongue, because that is definitely what I would offer to a secret Valentine. So he/she/they could use it as he/she/they wished. πŸ˜‰
Bonus:
You can make your own valentine heart candy. What is your message? (Go to this link. Create your candy. Post the generated Valentine candy on your blog).
I’ll have to come back and do this later from home. It’s blocked here at work.
β€”β€”β€”β€”-

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 the TMI Tuesday blog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Sinful Sunday – Underneath

He and I had a really tough day on Friday. We were too emotionally and physically exhausted to do anything but pass out Friday night. But yesterday morning? I climbed on top of him and fucked him and he fucked me in a way we never have. It was make-up sex. It was relationship-affirming sex. It was raw, intense, and brutal. His cock felt like a bull in the china shop of my pussy. I think he bruised all of my inner organs. When he flipped me off of him (because my hips locked up as they will when I ride him really hard) this is what was underneath.

drizzled with our love

Posted in participation with Sinful Sunday, hosted by Molly’s Daily Kiss.
Click below to see who else is discovering what lies beneath…

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