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


My Princess Angel

I originally wrote this last March for my LiveJournal account. It was originally titled, “I’ve got to get emo for just a minute,” hence the opening line. It has been edited to include more intimate content and an update at the end.
Because I just felt a really big crack in my heart. I just got a friend request on Facebook from someone who’s been on my mind A LOT lately. Almost nonstop. Because her birthday is Friday. Not only is her birthday Friday, our BIG DAY is rapidly approaching. What is the BIG DAY? It’s a day in June of this year—the day her son graduates from high school. What is so special about that day? It’s the day that I’m supposed to kidnap her from her current life and whisk her away and she and I ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after. A sweet, naive dream written a long time ago by a sweet, naive, lovesick girl.
She is my Princess Angel. The one who set the bar for all who followed. She is the one with whom I learned that is absolutely possible to love and be completely satisfied with another woman. She is the one with whom I learned passion. And heart-breaking sacrifice.

I met her a few months shy of my 21st birthday. We worked together at a pancake house that was open 24 hours on Friday and Saturday nights. The rest of the week it was open until 2am. Except for Sundays. On Sundays we closed at midnight, just in time for us girls to get off work and head to the bar down the street for some late happy hour drinks. She and I were friendly in a co-worker way. I actually didn’t really like her when I first met her because I thought she was kind of snotty. But she was gorgeous. Naturally-red hair, freckles scattered liberally over milky-white skin, and eyes a color that make you want to lounge on an island in the Caribbean with a piña colada.
One Sunday night that could have been any other Sunday night with the girls, I had stepped away from our table to throw some darts with another girl. I’d left my drink at the table so after I finished my turn, I went back to get it. When I walked up to the table I was just in time to hear the question, “Have you ever been with another girl?” Since I’d arrived at that moment, I was queried by the lovely redhead herself.
Not having heard the rest of the conversation about whether it was “ew, gross!” or “so totally hot!” and not being nearly so bold and fearless as I am now (I wasn’t even old enough to drink in that bar legally), I demurred with a “no comment.” Grinning like I’d just fallen into her neatly-laid trap, she sprung on me. “Ah ha! I’ve got you!” Right away I flipped the question back to her. She donned a coy expression and mirrored my response, “No comment.” Having grown suddenly shy, I somehow managed to extricate myself from the conversation and headed back to the dart boards to finish my game.
I would imagine that there was more verbal sparring between us and drunken flirting, but I don’t remember much of the rest of the time at the bar that night. I also don’t remember under what excuse we were able to get away from the other girls. Amazingly enough, I don’t even remember our first kiss. I think it was probably quick and stolen at some point in the ladies’ room when we happened to find ourselves alone.
However, I do remember the first time we fucked. It was the first time either of us had ever had sex with a woman. We’d both fooled around with girls before, explored our sexuality a bit, so to speak, but had never gone “all the way.”
Looking for a place with privacy, we ended up going to this church at the back of a nearby industrial park. It’s where we sometimes went with the girls to get high after we’d left the bar. There were picnic tables behind the church and we were sitting on one of those, me on the tabletop with my legs dangling off the end as I had a habit of doing and her on the bench as one should sit.
It started so typically, with a massage. It was the easiest, most comfortable way for us to get to what we really wanted to do: touch each other. She’d said that her shoulders hurt so of course I offered my hands. She stood up and moved between my legs, turning her back toward me. Once my hands were on her, they only remained at her shoulders for a short time before they ventured further. When I reached down into the front of her halfway-unbuttoned shirt to squeeze her breasts and find her nipples, she turned around and her lips met mine.
That kiss lit a furnace of desire in me. For months, I had been fantasizing about being with a woman. Every time I went down on my boyfriend, I did my best to imagine what it would be like to be licking pussy instead. Under those circumstances, it’s incredible that I didn’t just strip her and throw her down right there. As it was, I slid off the table, unbuttoned her shirt the rest of the way and covered her neck, chest, and breast with kisses.
It wasn’t long before I’d spun her around, boosted her up to the table and lifted her long uniform skirt while she leaned back to allow me access and give herself over to me. I removed her pantyhose and underwear, releasing the absolutely intoxicating scent of her dripping cunt. A natural redhead, the carpet did in fact match the drapes, as they say. Her red pubic hair was neither thick nor sparse, but curled toward her wet slit. I hesitated not a moment before diving in to pure heaven.
Since then I have likened the taste of her pussy to strawberries and cream but that is obviously more of an associative comparison due to her luscious red hair and milky white skin. I noticed right away that she tasted different than I do, tangier, but in no way unpleasant. I lapped her juices and tongued her clit until she begged me to stop. I don’t know how many times I made her cum, but it was more than a few. I could’ve continued all night, but as we didn’t get out there until after the bar closed at 2am, we could only guess at how late it was. We were both expected at our respective homes and didn’t want to have to do too much explaining.
She took a moment to catch her breath and then we were kissing again. When we broke apart she asked me if I was sure I hadn’t done that before. I assured her that I had not, but I would swear that to this day she doesn’t believe me. Finally we parted ways.
That first time was amazing and a whole new world opened up for me—and us— that night.
The months that followed are a blur of frenzied, drunken sex in no-tell motels, parked cars, bathrooms, wherever we could devour each other. Sunday-after-work girls’ nights were quickly complemented with nights of our own. As many as we could steal together. We both had boyfriends and neither of them knew about our illicit affair.
Although truth be told, I did most of the devouring. In all of the time that we were together, I think she went down on me a total of three times. But that was exactly as I wished it to be. I ate her pussy like a demon possessed, usually resulting in desperate pleas for mercy. One night in particular that I’ll never forget, we were at our favorite cheap, seedy, no-tell motel and the room was completely trashed by the time we were done. The sheets had been ripped from the bed, the mattress was askew, the pillows tossed to the far corners of the room, and the headboard ripped out of the wall. You know how they bolt headboard to the wall in places like that? How they’re not attached to the bed at all? She pulled it completely out of the wall, bolts and all. That was the night I licked her asshole for the first time, as I recall. I still have the motel key from the room that night.
She would beg me to stop, just for a moment, just to let her catch her breath. I would come up for air only long enough to grin at her wickedly. “You know better than to ask me that.” She was never strong enough to push me off because her cunt was to me as spinach was to Popeye. She would struggle and she would fight, but I always won.
It was only supposed to be mutual sexploration. Before we knew it, it had morphed into so much more. It was bound to happen, considering the exciting, intimate bond we’d formed. We were both miserable in our relationships with our men, but she was tied to hers by a child. My boyfriend eventually found out and made the fatal mistake of asking me to choose. Of course, there was no choice. I left him and started sleeping on her couch. It made things so much easier for us for a while because her man worked late nights. We had a few rather scary VERY close calls, one of which resulted of her sneaking into bed in the early morning only after his alarm clock had started to go off, under the guise that she’d had to use the bathroom.
We talked all the time about telling him, bringing him into it. We weren’t dishonest people, we didn’t enjoy hiding things. So one night at the bar where it all began, we pulled the thread that would eventually unravel us. Over margaritas, I played the evil seductress and she played the coy one. “You know how it’s always been my fantasy to be with another woman…”
In all of our planning, she and I had never made any ground rules. We didn’t have a clue what we were doing. We never really thought about exactly how far we wanted things to go. And as a result, they went too far. Her angry, hurt words will echo in my head forever: “I can’t believe you fucked her. You said you wouldn’t fuck her.” I’ll never know if she was more upset that he fucked me or that I fucked him. But what was a guy to do, caught between two hot, young women? Not to mention the fact that he had the largest cock I had ever seen at that time.
It didn’t end immediately, but in a lot of ways it might as well have. By this time, I was completely consumed with my love for her and I couldn’t hide from it any longer. All of our friends/co-workers knew, but the most important people did not. I had been sleeping on their couch for months. Additionally, I had quit the restaurant and was working in a bar with her parents: her dad was the manager, her mom was the service bartender, and I was one of the cocktail waitresses. It was a powder-keg situation that could explode at any minute. The pressure just became too much for me to bear.
I may have forgotten many things over the years, but I will never forget the night I broke her heart. I explained to her how much I loved her and that it was impossible for me to contain. I had to end it. The pain in her eyes spilled down her cheeks in the parking lot of our favorite nightclub. “You knew this is how it would be,” she cried. She got me back a few months later when she brought her new girlfriend into the bar where I worked.
After some time passed, we were able to have a bittersweet friendship. Her man finally got his act together and they got married. I’ve never in my life been surrounded by so many warm, supportive people as I was that day. Both of my hands were held and there were comforting arms and smiles. I stayed strong for her. I could have stopped that wedding, there’s no question, but I would not have won her by doing so. I think it goes without saying that I got obliterated at her reception.
Over the years, we’ve kept in touch here and there. Some times more than others, usually in fits and spurts. We’ve had a tryst or three. Once was a weekend out of town, when we fucked so loudly that the people in the room next door banged on the wall and told us to keep it down. At 5am on a Saturday morning. Did they have to go to fucking work or something? The last of which was a threesome with me, her, and Roland after he and I had been dating for about a year. He remains the only boyfriend with whom I ever shared her.
I always promised her that we’d be together one day. That one day, I’d steal her away. I put a definite time on it long ago: when her son graduated high school, because then he would be old enough to understand and he wouldn’t need her quite as much. He’d be a man. His 18th birthday is April 11th. I don’t have his exact date of graduation, but it’s approximately the first week of June. Every time she and I spoke, this eventuality was discussed and we looked forward to it.
Every relationship I have been in for the last 10 years has kept this in consideration. My partner has always known that there would come a time when I would have my Princess Angel again. He/she could make room for us all to be together, or he/she could step aside. I even told her husband once or twice that I was going to steal her away someday (he’d been told about our relationship at last many years ago because they were swingers for a time).
The last few years our contact has been infrequent at best. As of right now, other than that friend request tonight (which did not come with a personal note or email, nor was its acceptance followed by a wall post), I have not spoken to her in at least a year. It may have even been two. She lives less than 4 miles from my house. I only know 1 other person who lives closer to me than she does, and it’s probably by less than a tenth of a mile. For many years, I called on all major holidays, but most especially on Valentine’s Day and her birthday. Many times I would visit and gift her with a dozen roses for VD and a birdhouse (she was a collector) for her birthday. I stopped calling a long time ago, because my messages were no longer returned.
As the BIG DAY approaches, I’ve thought about her a lot. All of the promises that I made as a young woman who believed that anything in the world was possible. None of those were realistic and I know that now. She and I are so very different, I don’t even know that we would have any common ground. I say that, but in many ways I couldn’t be any more different than the man with whom I am madly in love.
I can’t help but wonder now if any efforts will be made on her part to take us beyond FB friends. Will I settle for wishing her generic birthday greetings on her wall? I guess I have 48 hours to decide.

I did post on her Wall for her birthday and she on mine 6 days later. And I did finally chat with her a few times. During one of our last chats, right before her son’s graduation last year, she told me about how she and her husband had decided to get a divorce back in January. The papers had been drawn up and filed. They only needed to be signed. But then they had a long talk. They had been together since their mid-teens, over 20 years. It had been a long, rocky road, but they’d made it somehow. They decided that they didn’t want to be alone. That they didn’t want to have to start over. So they dedicated themselves to their marriage in a way that they never had before. The last time I talked to her was at least 6 months ago, but probably even longer ago than that. She said they were happier than they had ever been. I sincerely wished her all the best.
She and I are still friends on Facebook and as a result I have discovered that this post is unintentionally very timely. Her status update for today: Today I have been married to the GREATEST husband in the world for 14 years! I love you babe! Can’t wait for the next 14! 🙂
Fourteen years ago today was one of the hardest days of my life, but I don’t regret it one bit.
Happy anniversary, my Princess Angel. I wish for you all of the happiness you deserve. I will always love you. And should you ever find your way to my doorstep again, I will never turn you away.

Other firsts…

This is a continuation of the post Losing It about losing my virginity. It was originally going to be called “Losing It and Other Firsts”, but that post became so long that I had to stop. Now I’m going to tell you about the first time I had sex and throw in a couple of other firsts while I’m at it.

At the time I lost my virginity, I had a boyfriend named Bo. He was my sister’s boyfriend’s best friend and one of the sweetest guys I have ever dated. He was a couple of years older than me, very tall, tan, and thin, and extremely soft-spoken and polite. I will never forget the sound of his voice or that he had eyes that reminded me of the ocean: blue-green on sunny days, gray when overcast. He worked as a deep-sea fisherman, going out on the boat for 4-5 days at a time and coming back for 2-3. On his days off, he would ride his bicycle the 10 miles from his house to mine to see me, even before I agreed to go out with him.
We had only been “going out” for a week when my deflowering occurred. He was out on the boat when it happened, but expected back a day later. I was racked with guilt and therefore told him about it as soon as I got the chance when I saw him again. I made him break up with me, although he didn’t want to. I just couldn’t live with myself because even then I knew how he adored me. I truly felt the same, despite my actions.
He never gave up trying to convince me that we should be together, still visiting me as often as he could. A few months later, he finally convinced me to give it another try. It wasn’t long before I fell completely, madly, head-over-heels in love with him. By that time, he’d gotten his car fixed and didn’t have to ride his bike to see me. He was the first guy with whom my mom ever let me leave the house, because she knew what a good guy he was. 
Bo never tried to push me or take advantage of me in any way. He always behaved himself like a complete gentleman. That is not to say that we didn’t fool around when we had the chance. I was quite the opposite of a perfect lady even then, as I am sure you might have figured out from my previous post. We would have long make-out and groping sessions whenever we were left alone.
Some amount of time before we had sex for the first time, he was the first guy to ever go down on me. I don’t remember much about it, whether it was good or bad. I do remember we were in my bedroom making out on my bed. (My parents had—shocker!!—left us at my house alone while they went to the grocery store.) I do remember him asking if he could kiss me “down there.” I won’t say I was aghast, but I was a bit taken aback. I don’t think I had ever thought about that before or even knew that people did that. He gently convinced me and finally I agreed. I was probably too nervous to really enjoy it, not least of all because I was afraid my parents (mainly my mom!) would be home soon.
When I eventually made him stop, he said to me, “Yours is the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” I thought it was a really big deal, but my friends tried to tell me it just meant he’d been with a lot of girls. I’ve never taken it that way. He just wasn’t that type of guy.
The first time I ever had sex was Saturday, April 11, 1992. I remember the date exactly because it was Bo’s birthday and 4 days after my 17th birthday. I can recall the exact outfit I wore, down to the lacy bra and panties. I picked everything out especially for him. The outfit I wore was all-blue tie-dye. It was a new outfit and I’d washed my white bra and panties with it so that the color would bleed onto them and they would match. Blue was his favorite color.
My mom had baked a cake for him, and after we ate some we left to “go out” for the rest of the afternoon and evening. What we did was go to his place. He lived with his mom still, so we couldn’t go right to his bedroom. We sat in the living room and watched television for long enough to be semi-polite. Finally we could wait no longer, and excused ourselves to his room.
Like many other tales I have shared, exact details are lost with time, but some bits have always stuck with me. We listened to Metallica, the black album, on repeat (it was 1992, after all). We talked for a short while, then kissed and made out for a bit longer. He undressed me sweetly and slowly. Once we’d closed his bedroom door, nothing was rushed. When we were fully naked, I’d shivered with a chill and nervousness, and his voice was so full of concern for me. He pulled a blanket over the top of our bodies to contain our warmth.
Although it wasn’t his first time, he was nervous as well. He fumbled a bit with the condom. I accidentally hurt his feelings when he entered me, because I asked him if he was in yet. He looked completely deflated and replied, “You can’t feel that?” I was immediately embarrassed and apologized profusely trying to explain that what I’d meant was, “Are you all the way in yet?” because I had been holding my breath. He had not gone all the way in because he felt me tense up. He took it very, very slow for me. I remember “The Unforgiven” was playing.
What followed was 20 minutes of sweet, tender lovemaking. That’s how I’ve always remembered it. I didn’t climax (I wouldn’t learn how to do that during sex for years), but when he did he wrapped his arms around me, looked into my eyes, and told me that he loved me. I may have cried a little bit and definitely told him that I loved him, too. We laid in his bed for a while, just holding each other.
Afterward, we put our clothes back on, went out in the living room again and watched Highlander 2 (yes, I know that movie doesn’t count). I recall next to nothing about that movie, other than being curled up against him on the couch. When it was over, we returned to his bedroom to go for a second round.
That next go-around wasn’t as slow and sweet, nor was it as short. We went at it for about an hour. The first time killed all of our nervousness, so we were free to explore each other more. His hands, fingers, and mouth felt so good all over my body. Bo was a very skinny boy and when we were done, my inner thighs felt all beat up from the blades of his hip bones. They were tender for all of the following week.
I had to be home by midnight, so our time together drew to a close. We got dressed and he took me home.
Unfortunately, Bo and I were only able to have sex one more time, a week later. It didn’t go as well that time, as I was on my period. I was grossed-out by the thought, but he convinced me it was okay. I got in two more firsts that day: first period sex and first doggy-style. However, I was unable to get past the blood, so we stopped and just cuddled instead.
Things got very hectic for him not long after that. His poor old 1979 Ford Granada died again. He got into a huge fight with his alcoholic mother. They had always fought a lot, but that fight was enough to finally drive him to go live with his dad far on the other side of town. He rode his bike to see me one last time. He said we had to break up for a while because he didn’t know when he would be able to see me. He didn’t think it would be fair to me to leave me hanging like that. I was heartbroken, but I understood. We cried together as we shared our true love vows. He promised he would be back for me one day and that if I decided to move on but found him again in the future, he would leave anyone in the world for me. It was one of the saddest kisses in my life when we parted.
I saw him exactly once after that, for less than 5 minutes. It was a few months later on the 4th of July. I’d gone to the beach with my mom and sisters for the Independence Day festival and fireworks. He’d ridden his bike 10 miles from his mom’s house to mine, only to discover I wasn’t at home. My dad had stayed behind and thus told him where we were. So then he rode the 7 miles from my house to the beach and searched the throngs of people for an hour to find me. He just wanted to tell me that he still loved me and missed me. Then he had to leave me again.
By a strange twist of fate, I finally had sex with Chuck for the first time later that night.

TMI Tuesday – S-E-X again!

This week’s TMI Tuesday questions are on a subject near and dear to our hearts (and some other body parts, too). It’s all about SEX!…Yes, again.

1. What is your sexual personality?
a. The Controller – initiating sex, twisting your lover into positions you want, and driving scene play by play
b. Sex Slave – You love to be used and at the mercy of your lover. You don’t initiate but follow and do as you are told. You love to be used.
c. Daredevil – Sexual adventure and sexual thrills are what you are all about. You get off on the risk factor.
d. Subdued – Sex is a necessary part of the relationship so you are available when needed.

Every option here but D! I am anything but subdued when it comes to sex. The role I play largely depends on my mood, and His. Sometimes, I like to be in control. Sometimes, I give myself over to His power and do whatever he wants. And I am almost always up for adventure, thrills, and risk!
2. How many times have you sneaked away from party guests to have sex in another part of the party venue. Where did you sneak to? Were you ever caught? For example, at a wedding reception you sneaked to have sex in the coat room. At a party, you sneaked to have sex in a bathroom or closet.
I am very sad to say I don’t think that this has never happened for me. At least, not secretly. There have been at least a couple of times where I have left the main party with one or two other people to start our own little party elsewhere in the house. But it was never a secret, and we were always hoping that someone noticed and chose to join us. Or watch, if they didn’t participate.

3. Your sex partner that you are mad crazy for has requested you do one of the following, which one would you grant consent to do:
a. Bondage/light restraint with your hands, legs tied while having sex
b. A sexual spanking that leaves light marks
c. Record the two of you having sex
d. Have sex in a mirrored room where you can see yourselves having sex from every angle

Only one of the following?? Can I just say here what a dream come true it would be for all of the above to happen at the same time?? Except, can we remove “light” from A and B?? And maybe add in a few more people? Ohhh yeahhh… now we’re talkin’! 😉

4. Do you act out your sexual fantasies (select one)? Why?
a. I act out all of my fantasies.
b. I act out many of my fantasies.
c. I act out some of my fantasies.
d. I act out very few of my fantasies.
e. I don’t act out any of my fantasies.
f. I don’t have any fantasies.

My true answer here is probably F but mostly because of A. When I decide that I’d like to do something, I work toward making it happen. So far in my life there has only been ONE fantasy that has yet to be realized (short of anything involving a celebrity or someone I have yet to actually meet in person): I’ve never been with two men at once and consequently have never been double-penetrated by two live cocks. This is not to say that I’ve done it all, by any means. I have just really almost always had a satisfying enough sex life that I never felt the need for fantasies. However, recently I have begun to understand the appeal and have started to work on fantasizing a bit more. 🙂

5. How important is sex in your life (select one)?
a. I could hardly survive without it.
b. It is very important.
c. It is somewhat important.
d. I could live without it.
e. If it were up to me, sex wouldn’t even exist!

There is no question that the answer here is A. I am a very sexual person, and while I did at one point choose to abstain for almost FOUR YEARS, I would never willingly live without it again.

Bonus: Finish the following phrase.

Sex is    by far my favorite pastime    .

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!

Epic weekend: How he broke me, part 1

Sometimes when you don’t know where to begin, you should just dive on in and let the narrative build around you. I’ve been wanting to write about this weekend ever since it happened over a month ago. It was beyond a doubt the best, most epic weekend of my life. Perhaps I’ve struggled with it because to finally put it all down in words would somehow diminish the greatness. So much occurred in the short span of a few days that it’s hard to capture it all. Some basic details… A night of karaoke and drunken debauchery, followed the next day by a posh 2-bedroom villa at a resort in Orlando, friends from near and far, the love of my life, my first limo ride, and a trip to a public dungeon…

Our weekend began Friday afternoon when Lucy picked up Alan from the train station and Tammy from the airport shortly thereafter. I met up with them at Cracker Barrel so we could all eat, and then went on a 3-hour long shopping spree. The part of sugar mama was played by Lucy for the weekend. Once we were all shopped out, we came back to my place to rest for a bit before getting ready for Fred’s karaoke birthday extravaganza. Our later dinner of Chinese take-out made us all fatted up and lazy, so we were slow getting ready. And by us/we, I of course mean me.

So we were late to the party but we hadn’t really missed much. The party didn’t start in earnest until we arrived. Many drinks were consumed and some amazing song renditions occurred. Standouts included Alan’s cover of “Dancing in the Dark” by The Boss, Fred totally rocking AC/DC’s “Big Balls”, and me vamping it up with “Sweet Transvestite” (accompanied by a sexy striptease from the birthday boy). The highlight for me was when my love gave the best performance of all… “Boyz in tha Hood” by Dynamite Hack. I literally fell to my knees before him. It was one of the greatest moments of my life up until that point. And illustrates perfectly one of the many reasons why I am so madly in love with him. He’s just so completely swoony!

Everyone but myself and 2 others were pretty thoroughly trashed by that point. Luckily I’d had had the foresight to stop drinking way earlier because someone had to drive. As it was, there was still one person from whom we practically had to steal her keys to get her not to drive. Then we had to figure out arrangements because we were technically short a car. The result was that Alan drove my drunken friend home and I ended up with a drunken orgy between Fred, Tammy, and Lucy in the backseat of my Jetta. Which was an incredible experience by itself. Just imagine live porn happening and you can listen but not watch. It was like a live episode of Sonic Erotica‘s Aural Voyeurism. Somehow I managed to get us safely back to my house.

Disappointing though it may seem, I was largely uninvolved in most of the debauchery that evening. While my love and I attempted to have some fun of our own with one of my lovely girlfriends, Jane, it was not meant to be that night. It had been a long, exhausting evening, so he and I were too tired to even attempt anything with each other instead. He quietly passed out while I took our girl home. By the time I made it back to my house, there was barely an hour left until sunrise. Fred & Lucy, upstairs in the loft, and Alan & Tammy, downstairs in the living room/office on an air mattress, had finally fucked themselves to sleep. I got undressed, crawled into bed, and was quickly asleep.

Being that I was up until almost sunrise, I slept until around noon. Lucy had taken Fred back to his truck at some point in the morning before I arose. As I mentioned, there had been a large amount of alcohol consumed by all but myself and Alan the night before and as such, everyone but the two of us was hungover. My poor Roland was in bed until almost 3 in the afternoon. Although we had a 2.5-hour road trip ahead of us that day, no one was really in much of a hurry to get going. We were all struggling to recover from the night before.

Sometime in the afternoon before Roland got out of bed, Tammy and Alan started feeling frisky again. Tammy took his hand and started to lead him up the stairs to the loft. I was sitting at my desk downstairs, mucking around the internet, trying desperately to secure my tickets to Bonnaroo. Due to heavy traffic, the ticket ordering page kept timing out before I could complete the transaction. Before she reached the foot of the stairs, I stopped her. “Why are you going upstairs? Are you shy all of a sudden? I don’t mind watching.” I motioned to the air mattress, mostly deflated, still lying in the middle of the floor. They looked at each other, stripped, and quickly got to it while I watched and Lucy sat nearby, doing her homework on her laptop.

I had been chatting with Jane online and mentioned what I was watching now. She was a little bit surprised when, after securing permission from the couple fucking on my floor, I asked if she and her husband, Clayton, wanted to watch on my webcam. Of course they readily agreed, although they both got too shy and embarrassed (or maybe it was hot and bothered) to watch for long. A few minutes later, Alan decided to get up to go grab his camera. Completely forgetting that I was working on a timed transaction, I took this opportunity to get on the floor and give Tammy’s pussy a good licking. She was just starting to moan and get into it when I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and had to jump back to my seat at the computer, apologizing profusely as I did. It mattered not because Alan had returned and slipped his big cock right back into the place where my tongue had just been, passing his camera to Lucy.

It was about that time that Roland finally emerged from the bedroom. I don’t know if it was the commotion that roused him or if he was finally feeling better. His only response to walking in on the decidedly hot live porn action happening in our living room was, “Well… okay then.” He carefully stepped around them and a seat as his computer desk, which was adjacent to mine. I think that might have been one distraction too many for them, or maybe they were still fucked out from the early morning hours, because they gave up and put their clothes on.

Eventually we did start to get the show on the road. Check-in for our villa was supposed to be at 3pm and there would be a limo arriving at 8pm to take us to the dungeon. Lucy, Tammy and Fred kind of collected and threw their stuff together into the car and left, opting to shower and refresh themselves once they arrived. Roland and I took our time showering and doing last-minute packing before we got on the road. We left about an hour and a half after everyone else did. After stopping to get dinner and some supplies for the weekend, we finally arrived at the villa just before 9pm. The last part of our group, Clayton and Jane, arrived shortly thereafter.

The 4th floor villa was pretty amazing. It was really more like an apartment than a hotel room and easily the nicest hotel room in which I’d ever stayed. It had a full kitchen, dining area, and living room. The screened balcony overlooked the pool. There were 2 bedrooms with full bathrooms in each, one with 2 full-sized beds and one with a king-sized bed. The bathroom in the master bedroom, which was mine and Roland’s for the weekend, also had a large Jacuzzi tub.

We were behind schedule, but the schedule was really just a suggestion. We had the limo reserved until the dungeon closed at 4am. Although Lucy was patiently waiting for everyone else, Tammy was still getting ready, so I didn’t feel like we had really been holding anyone up. I freshened up a bit, then put on my makeup, got dressed, and was ready to go. Jane was all set a few minutes later. At last the best part of our weekend was ready to begin!

This was my first limo ride and it has been booked for just that occasion. Lucy and I had been talking about getting down to Orlando to check out the Woodshed for ages, but it just hadn’t really worked out any other time. She had recently come into a little bit of money and wanted to treat us all to a good time. The limo was fully stocked with champagne, ice and glasses. As we got underway, we toasted to all the possibilities that the night had in store.

The 20-minute ride was long enough to both relax our nerves with champagne and also build up our excited anticipation. That feeling was only able to build further once we arrived and everyone had to hang out in the lobby to complete the membership applications, along with paying dues. One of the dungeon masters, a sprightly British gent going by the name Master Penguin, gave us a thorough explanation of the rules of the house before we were able to go through the door to the dungeon itself.

Continue on to part two.

My defective pussy

You’ve seen the pictures. You’ve heard the audio. Some of you have even seen the video. I’d bet that you have no idea that my pussy is broken and just doesn’t work right. As a whole, it’s a good one. It gets wet, has a decent look about it, and gives me orgasms that you wouldn’t believe. But in comparison to some, I definitely feel defective.

My pussy can’t cum from penetration alone. My pussy can’t cum without direct clitoral stimulation. My pussy can’t readily have multiple orgasms. My pussy doesn’t squirt, it gushes. I know that none of these things are huge faults. But they are things that make me love my pussy just a little bit (and sometimes a lot) less than I should.

Roland and I have an amazing sex life. Easily the best, most satisfying sex in my entire life. Before him, it never mattered to me that I couldn’t climax from cock alone. I didn’t care because I just like to fuck and sometimes that’s all I want to do: just fuck. Orgasms have never been particularly easy for me. They’ve always involved work. But it was never an issue because I just liked to have sex for the sake of sex. However, there’s something about his cock that makes me want to cum. No, it makes me NEED to cum. I’ve never felt that with anyone else before. He just hits that spot. And sometimes, it seems like I’m almost there, that it’s just beyond my fingertips. I focus and concentrate on that feeling alone. I do everything within my power to will an orgasm to fruition, but so far it has been in vain.

I would not necessarily say it’s hard for me to get off. I prefer to say that I’m very specific. Under the right circumstances, I bring myself to climax in under 2 minutes. That’s usually with a vibrator but sometimes I can do it with my fingers alone. However, that involves direct, focused stimulation of my clit. It doesn’t necessarily have to be hard and/or fast. Sometimes it can be slow and gentle-like. But there must not be ANY deviations and it must be relentless. If I should allow my attention to stray, or if I try to change it up a bit, there goes my 2-minute window.

And this is where it gets tricky. Because after that point, the more stimulated I get, the harder it can be for me to cum. What a farce, right? This is the biggest problem if I want to have an orgasm while having sex. I don’t know about you guys, but when I have sex, there are LOTS of different things going on. Even in the missionary position, it’s never just repetition of the same thing over and over. This all makes for great sex, but makes it difficult to cum. Like I said, I have to work at it.

Depending on the situation, sometimes I’ll try to use my fingers on my clit while he’s fucking me. Sometimes it will even work. Usually, though, I am so hot and in the moment that I get way overeager and overstimulate myself. Which leads to frustration and makes me just want to cry. Roland tells me all the time to just calm down and relax. He’s never in any hurry and can last as long as I want him to. Even if he never admits it, I know it has to frustrate him a bit, too. More often than not, I just skip trying to play with my clit and go directly for my vibrator which is usually good and quick. If I’ve played with my clit first and gave up in frustration before reaching for the vibrator, then it’s still going to take lots of focus and work. Most of the time at that point, to help me along Roland will stop any thrusting and either just hold still or squeeze my nipples. He understands what an issue the over stimulation is, and the nipple pain is a different enough sensation that it can override that.

The trade off for all of this work is that the harder I work for my orgasm, the bigger it is and the longer it lasts. It’s still really good if I cum fast and easy, but it goes away fast and easy, too. When I’ve had to work really hard, I will probably have been alternating between holding my breath and hyperventilating. I don’t do it on purpose but it essentially gives me all the effects that one gets from breath play. I’m just doing it myself instead of being choked out by my partner. The result is that afterward I have full-body quakes/aftershocks that can last strongly for 5-10 minutes. I’ve had aftershocks as long as 20 minutes afterward also, albeit small ones.

Because I have to work so hard for my orgasms, even one more after that big one is next to impossible. In most cases, I am so sensitive all over my whole body that I don’t want to be touched at all. It’s like torture to me. I would probably have to be completely tied down and restrained if someone wanted to make me climax again immediately. Oh, and I had better be gagged also, because there is NO chance of me being quiet at that point!

When I have these big, hard-won orgasms, I almost always gush. Often I can gush beforehand if I get myself worked up enough, because an orgasm isn’t required to make it happen. And I can gush more than once and sometimes gush even more after I’ve cum. It can be very wet and messy. But on very few occasions has it been anything concentrated enough to be considered a squirt, in my opinion. That’s what I consider squirting, a concentrated stream akin to urinating. That’s usually what I see in porn, anyway. Mine is just a sudden huge deluge of wetness. But if it’s a matter of muscle control, I might try to see if I can learn to make it a stream.

Anything else you wanna know about my pussy? You can hit me up on Formspring. 🙂

Valentine’s surprises

Yes, I know Valentine’s Day was a few weeks ago, but I’ve been running a bit behind on things. I’m looking to get that resolved this week. So without further ado, let me tell you about all that my VDay had in store for me.

As a general rule, VDay isn’t usually a big deal for us. We aren’t a couple who buys a lot of gifts for each other because we’re not really into material things. We also don’t wait for one day a year to make each other feel special; we try to do that as often as possible for no reason other than to express how much we mean to each other. That’s not to say we absolutely don’t celebrate it. One year we went out to a nice, romantic dinner at a pricey fondue restaurant. The following year, after a casual mention of the fact that the B-52’s (one of my favorite bands) were coming to town, he surprised me with tickets to see them. I don’t remember at all what we did last year, although I think he probably made dinner for me.
This year I woke up not even realizing that it was VDay. I went along with my usual routine of getting out of bed and heading directly to the shower without giving it a single thought. When I was out of the shower and getting dressed, I’d bent over to pick up my shoes. He snuck up behind me, delivered several stinging smacks to my ass, and said “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) At the time, that’s all I thought the day was going to entail. I got dressed, had my breakfast, and went to work.

For most of the day at work, I chatted online with my friend Luscious (no, that’s not her real name). She was going through some difficult times at home and needed a shoulder to cry on. I invited her to come over after I got home from work, which she insistently declined although I repeatedly offered. She said that she didn’t want to intrude upon our romantic evening. I assured her that there were no special plans to no avail. When I emailed Roland to verify that  he did not have any special plans and to see if he minded company, he replied cryptically. Something to the effect that if there were plans, having company wouldn’t necessarily affect them, he would just need to know as soon as possible. I was a bit surprised. At any rate, it didn’t matter because she said no.

Even though I had to work late, I still got home from work a little bit earlier than had been anticipated. As a result, I caught Roland in the middle of making dinner. He was making my favorite recipe, Publix Apron’s Party Chicken, along with some rice and broccoli (my favorite veggie). He poured me a glass of my favorite wine, Barefoot Moscato, while I waited for dinner to be ready. Once it was done, he and I sat at the table and enjoyed our meal together, discussing the day’s events. We finished dinner and went to our usual post-dinner stations: our computer desks (which are corner desks set up adjacent on one side, so we were next to each other).

After a bit, I had to go to the restroom. Upon entering our restroom I let out a loud squeal of delight as I discovered the gift he had left for me, a Winnie-the-Pooh Pillow Pet. I know he put it there because usually when I come home from work I have to pee and immediately go to the bathroom after our hello kisses. However, on this day I’d been home two hours before I had to go. I returned to my desk, snuggling Pooh and giggling like a little girl. He had a big smile on his face to see it. I cuddled Pooh for the rest of the night but what I didn’t know was that there were many more surprises yet to come!

It’s a pillow! It’s a Pooh! It’s a Pillow Pooh!

Tuesday is our day to catch up on The Walking Dead, so we went upstairs to the loft to watch with me still clinging tightly to Pooh. Since it’s only an hour-long show, usually after that we’ll watch a movie or go back downstairs to our computers, but it was starting to get late and we were tired. So we turned everything off and headed to the bedroom.

I went into the bathroom to complete my before-bed bathroom routine. Sometimes that can be a lengthy process, if Roland is already asleep and all I will be doing is going to bed and sleeping afterward. But with it being VDay, I was at least hoping to get some sex. So I made rather quick work of it. When I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into our bedroom, Roland had laid out on the end of the bed a small array of toys from my toybag: a paddle, 2 floggers, and a riding crop. I felt weak with excitement at the sight. And instantly wet. I looked up at him and smiled.

Without a word he undressed me and turned me around to face the wall. I folded my arms in front of my chest for support and leaned against it. My pussy quivered with anticipation. He did not keep me waiting but for a moment before he used the lightest flogger to begin lashing my back. It felt like soft caresses on my skin. It was a purple and black leather flogger with soft buckskin tails about 18″ long. He started off slowly, not having much confidence as he had never flogged me before. Although slow and methodical, he found his rhythm after only a few swings. My slightly nervous tension evaporated and I melted against the wall.

The buckskin flogger is really only heavy enough for a warm-up and he felt it. He laid it back on the bed and picked up the heavier black suede leather flogger with tails a few inches shorter. He tried a few test swings into the palm of his hand to get a feel for it and then took it to my back. This one is a good mix between between thuddy and stingy and I liked it a lot. With each hit, I felt the heat spread across my back and shoulders. For a complete novice, he was really doing a very nice job and I rewarded him with happy sighs and moans.

He had sufficiently worked my back so that he was ready to move on to his area of growing expertise, my ass. Still using the flogger he whipped across my cheeks from side to side. He changed directions and lashed from top to bottom with criss-crossed motions. He swung from underneath to get my undercheeks. Then he put the flogger aside and switched to the leather paddle with star-shaped cutouts, each smack harder than the last.

I was lost in the growing fire of my cheeks, which was getting painful enough that tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes. Next he decided to change to the crop, to give specific attention to my most tender spots.  My whimpers grew more urgent with each stinging contact. Throwing the crop to the side he started using his bare hand, the heaviest tool of them all. Each time he hit me, he gave a little grab and dragged his fingertips to increase the flames. I was so wet I felt it dripping from between my legs.

Either he sensed the wetness or could no longer restrain himself because he beating stopped and I heard his zipper. Before I even had the chance to gasp, his cock was rammed into my pussy. I was soaked and therefore there was no resistance and only the barest hint of friction. He pounded into me so hard that my face was banged against the wall. I could not contain my cries of pleasure.

I felt his hand in my hair at the nape of my neck. As soon as he curled his fingers and had a tight grasp, he used his grip to swing me around so that I was bent over the bed. My face was smothered in the bunched-up comforter at the foot of the bed and the discarded, now-forgotten toys pressed into my chest as he shoved his cock as deep as it could go. His heavy balls swung to throw more weight into each thrust.

Still not satisfied with our situation, he pulled back and stood me up. I have no idea when or how, but he had managed to lose all of his clothes by this point, save for his socks. He slid those off his feet and grabbed my hand. He led me to the back door of our bedroom, which leads out to the deck. My pulse quickened because there is not much that I enjoy more than being fucked outside. I just can’t decide if I enjoy it most in the warm, sunshiny daylight or the cool quiet of the night. Once we got outside, he did not stop but instead pulled me toward the steps leading down into the back yard. Again my excitement stepped up a notch because I imagined lying down in the ferns. He also did not stop once we got to the yard and continued to pull me further along until we reached the driveway. I thought my heart was going to explode.

We are the last house on our street and the road essentially dead ends in our driveway at the foot of a hill. This is where he parks his 1995 Ford Mustang. At the top of the hill is a streetlight that spills illumination down onto his car. He finally pushes me up against his trunk and forces me to bend over. We are in full view if our neighbors should decide to look out any of their side windows or if a stray car should make a wrong turn and venture down our street. Holding my upper body against the car, he did not waste any time shoving his rock-hard cock into my throbbing pussy.

After all of the buildup to get to this point, unfortunately he was not able to last for very much longer. Because we were trying to keep my pussy as fresh as possible for the upcoming epic weekend (a story to be told in a near future post), we had agreed that he would not be filling my cunt until after our trip. He jerked himself out of me, pointed his pulsing member at his car tire, and groaned as his body was overcome by a shudder while he began to shoot his load. Not wanting to waste his precious cum which I rarely get to swallow, I dropped down to my knees to catch it in my mouth. I sucked and swallowed every drop until there was none left to give.
When as I struggled to stand back up my legs were weak and rubbery beneath me, threatening to give out, so I kind of just collapsed my weight on the car for a moment.

Knowing I would need a bit of assistance, he came to me, gave me his arm to lean on, and escorted me back up the stairs to our bedroom. He closed the back door behind us and led me to the bed. I reclined on the bed, expecting that I would be able to rest and catch my breath. Much to my surprise he was still sporting an enormous erection. He is not one to be so eager for another go so quickly. We’d really had no downtime yet. He stood at the edge of the bed, spread my legs taking one on each side of his hips and entered me again.

This time was slower, more relaxed. He fucked me less urgently, taking time to alternately caress my face, fondle my breasts, suck on my nipples, and look into my eyes. For the first time since our playtime began, he gave me a long, sensual kiss. I moved further back so that he could climb onto the bed and on top of me. With him above me, I wrapped my legs around his waist and matched the rhythm of his thrusts by lifting my hips toward him. His face flushed bright red and I knew he was ready to cum again. He slid out of me and spewed hot cum onto my belly. Then he flopped down onto the bed next to me while I snagged a washcloth from the bedside nightstand to clean up.

After I tossed the used washcloth to the side, I rolled onto my side to face him. I was blown away to discover that his cock was still standing at attention. When I remarked on it and asked if he was still not done, he replied, “I guess not. Do you think you can handle any more?” I responded with a huge grin and got on all fours. That was the only answer he needed. He crawled around and kneeled behind me, pushing his cock once more into my aching cunt. Only a few minutes passed before I felt his body stiffen and he pulled out to shoot even more cum across my entire back. He leaned to grab the discarded washcloth and wiped it away before catching himself. “Damn, I should have taken a picture. You should have seen the way my jizz contrasted against the red of your back.”

That was enough to make him feel the need to plunge his cock into my cunt again, in hopes to recreate the shot. My whole body was shaking by then, and I have no idea how I was able to still able to hold myself up. I hate to admit the poor shape I am in, and while I have no complaints about his stamina or the length or frequency of our usual sessions, I was absolutely not used to fucking this long almost nonstop. Usually we go for anywhere from quickies lasting 15 minutes to longer bouts of 30-45 minutes. Not including the half hour of beatings, we’d been at it for at least an hour and a half. Yet he still wasn’t done!

At the exact moment that I was going to beg for mercy because I didn’t think I could take any more, he pulled back just enough that his cock was out of my snatch and rested it up against the crack of my ass, like a hot dog in a bun. His final load spilled out of his tip and ran down my cheeks. He wiped it away, leaving a slightly sticky feeling to my entire tender backside.

My poor old hips were locked from being held in this position for too long, which was the biggest agony of all. He gingerly rolled me off my knees and flipped me over to my back. Once on my back he had to grab my ankles one by one and pull each sharply to straighten my legs. Flat on my back at last, every part of my body felt twitchy and achy but the only thing I could complain about was the receding pain of my hips. I had not felt so sated in a long, long time. And I hadn’t even had a single orgasm the whole night. Honestly, I didn’t need one and I think it would’ve just been too much.

He could see that I could barely hold my eyes open by this time. I was wiped and completely blissed-out. He leaned over me and kissed me sweetly. “And I bet you thought that Pooh was going to be your biggest surprise tonight. Happy Valentine’s Day, schmoopie. I love you.” I was able to mumble out, “I love you, too, Big Poppa,” and with that, I was done. (However, he had not finished yet. He still managed to masturbate to one more orgasm after I’d passed out.)

Delectable Diva – finale

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

We parted ways with Jane and headed to our vehicles. For the sake of time and just so I could be near her, I offered to ride with her in her truck rather than have her follow me and Roland in my car. The ride back to my house passed by in a flash as we do not live far from downtown where the club is located.

Upon entering our house, I was overcome by sudden shyness. Although we all had the same thing on our minds, sometimes it is incredibly hard for me to make the first move. I turned on some music and poured a glass of wine for myself and her, while Roland had a beer. She removed her shawl and sat in Roland’s computer chair, he sat on the fireplace hearth, and I sat on the floor a few feet from her. The atmosphere was slightly nervous and tense.

Not long had passed before I took a deep breath, threw back my wine, and crawled the short distance to her. I leaned up on my knees so that she and I were almost at eye level and I kissed her. That one kiss was all it took to break the ice and release our passions. Our lips locked and our arms encircled each other. We kissed long and deeply before coming up for air. I released her lips, tilted my head and leaned in further to blow lightly in her ear while gently taking her earlobe with my teeth. She shivered and sighed, beginning to melt against me as I lightly kissed, licked and nibbled down her neck from her ear to her collarbone to her chest.

What I wanted then was her lovely breasts. I wanted to caress and suck and bite. But first I had to free them from their exquisite bondage. I pulled Diva to her feet, only allowing my lips to leave her skin for long enough to remove her corset and skirt and mine. Then we stood, clasped together, breasts to breasts, mouth to mouth, with my hand entwined in her hair. I pulled away from her lips and honed in on her neck, one hand still in her hair while the other cupped her breast, causing her to moan. I captured her nipple with my fingers and gave it a few gentle tugs, gradually getting rougher as I gauged her response. She gasped and her moans grew louder, indicating that she enjoyed it.

I needed to have her at that moment. All of her. I took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. At the foot of the bed I kissed her again briefly and then pushed her down on the bed, not roughly but not gently either. As soon as she was reclined on the bed, I crawled on top of her, all but devouring her lips, her neck, her chest, her breasts. I was intoxicated by the light scent of her flesh. Her giggles and gasps and moans and sighs fueled my fire. I tasted every square inch of exposed skin and also nibbled and nipped my way down her stockinged legs.

Each time I grew close to the still-concealed fragrant warmth between her legs, I could barely contain myself. However, after I was assured that my Diva was fully warmed up, I stood up and slid off her panties. I was immediately assailed by her delicious aroma. I leaned forward and gave her dripping cunt a light blow, just to watch her body shiver. Then I teasingly dragged my finger through her wetness, barely parting her lips. A long slow sigh escaped her lips. I could hold back no longer.

I moved my head down between her legs within my tongue’s reach of her pussy and inhaled deeply. Every nerve in my body was dancing and the only thing that existed in the universe in that moment was her. I slowly extended my tongue, grazing her with the very tip. I slid myself forward an inch or two and gave out a second lick, and then a third, each more urgent than the last. Finally I moved close enough to fully lap her pussy from the bottom of her slit to the tip of her clit. Her whole body moved as if a wave. Once I gave her that first real lick, it was all over. I was lost in her and her pleasure was all that mattered.

It wasn’t long before her body started to shake all over as she approached her first orgasm. Her movements were so violent that they could almost be taken for a mild seizure. I knew the feeling well as this is also how I react to to the abundance of so many pleasurable sensations. With a wry smile Roland said to me, “Don’t kill her!” I replied with a wicked little laugh, but our beautiful Diva reassured us both by looking at me with pleading eyes and said, “Don’t stop!!” Little did she know that there were NO worries of that anytime soon!

She had been lying at the foot of the bed with me on my knees between her legs, but it became uncomfortable after a bit. I raised my head and motioned for her to move further up the bed. While she adjusted, I stripped off my panties as well. Once she was repositioned, I climbed onto the bed and moved in again. I placed my hands on her thighs, spread her legs wide, and leaned in to continue.

I was up on my knees with my ass in the air and my face buried in her pussy. This was too much for Roland to resist so he took this opportunity to move in behind me and began fingering my cunt. I was so turned on by my own actions that when he touched me it was as if he had electricity in his fingers. He barely grazed my throbbing clit and my whole body spasmed. I moaned loudly with her clit in my mouth, causing her hips to buck up at me. It was a daisy chain of pleasure. His ardent attention to my clit made me pull away from her reflexively as I was overcome by the sensations. As amazing as he knew it felt to me, he could tell that it was too distracting for me to be played with while I was pleasuring her. He backed off and lay down on the bed next to us so he could just watch.

I wish I had the words to describe how delectable her juices were to me. How heavenly her aroma. I simply could not get enough, and not only because I’d been in a bit of a pussy drought. Every woman tastes different, every pussy is unique. And in my experience, they have all been wonderfully delicious. However, my Diva was something special. At the risk of stumbling into overworn cliches, she was as sweet nectar and ambrosia on my tongue.

All time was lost as I had her writhing and moaning while I lashed and lapped at her with my eager tongue. Her cries of pleasure interspersed with occasional giggles fed my frenzy and unleashed the monster I become when I am between a woman’s legs. My fingers teased and probed, pressing ever deeper. Her orgasms caused her to clench my hand so hard I thought my bones would break. At last I gave into her pleas for mercy, for just a chance to catch her breath. Somehow they penetrated into my fog. Reluctantly, I pulled away from her clit.

I slowly made my way up the bed so that I was again on top of her, taking in her blissed-out expression and her flushed face. I grinned wickedly and licked her lips. The only words she could manage were, “Wow, oh fuck, wow.” I stilled her attempts at speech with a long, lingering kiss, after which I fell to the bed beside her. I trailed my fingertips over her lightly, watching as gooseflesh appeared and she shivered almost convulsively.

It was at this time that I remembered my poor, darling Roland. After his earlier participation, he had faded so quietly into the background, allowing my greedy domination of our Diva. I knew he liked watching me in action and I could see in his grin that he had especially enjoyed tonight’s display. Knowing it was now his turn, I said to him, “I really think what she needs right now is your magnificent cock.” Looking down to to her for agreement, she bit her lip and nodded her head.

He was already undressed and to be ready all he had to do was roll on a condom from the tin on the bedside table. His cock was standing at attention and the condom went on quickly. I lifted up her shoulder and moved to sit behind her so that she was between my legs. Being that she is a feisty one, I grabbed both of her arms and pinned her to my lap. I leaned down for another kiss and searched her eyes for any sign of non-consent. It was no surprise that I found none although she’d only had a very short rest.

With his prick leading the way, he climbed onto the bed and parted her legs, which she had closed and stretched out. Pushing her thighs back and opening her legs into a V, he moved between her legs and deftly entered her. Her body tensed and she uttered a low moan. He only pressed in about halfway, as he is longer than average and most cannot take him all at once right away. Watching his cock sliding into her, knowing exactly how those first few moments feel, also made me moan as if it were me.

Almost gently at first he swung back his hips so that his cock almost left her pussy, leaving in only the tip. Then he brought his hips forward again, going just a little bit deeper this time. She shuddered and moaned again, the previously-fading flush returning to her cheeks. With each thrust, he stepped up the pace and the depth to which he delved. Finally he attained a smooth rhythm and was pounding her pussy almost with the same vigor that he pounds mine. He had not yet begun to fuck her as hard as he fucks me, but I could sense his growing excitement. She was about to get his all.

I took turns watching his face, his cock, and her face. My eyes couldn’t stay in any one spot for too long as I wanted to be able to soak it all in. Although he and I have been with many women together, this was a vantage point I’d never experienced. In many ways, it felt as if he was fucking me through her and I wanted him to really give it to her. Now that I wasn’t submerged in her myself, this is what it was all about for me. I gave him a slight nod of encouragement and he really got into the swing of it.

Because I knew she liked to feel as if she was being restrained, liked to pretend that there was a fight, I pulled her arms back tighter. She responded by trying to pull them away. I savagely pressed my lips against hers and snatched her lip up with my teeth. She whimpered and sighed, melting back into my lap.

Roland lifted her stockinged legs and pulled them against his chest, allowing the smooth fabric to briefly rub against his cheek because stockings are a big fetish for him. She responded by lifting up her hips to meet his increasing thrusts. I could tell by his ruddy cheeks that his climax would be soon. She was thrashing beneath him, indicating that she would be cumming soon as well.

He had been giving her his full length for some time now and she could not contain her cries, which were a divine mix of agony and ecstasy. Finally her whole body seized up in a paroxysm of exploding pleasure. She cried out loudly. As soon as her orgasm was evident, Roland’s face contorted, he gnashed his teeth and came himself. With every wave that overtook him, he thrust hard into her again and again she screamed. If I could climax from such things, I would have as well.

Once Roland’s convulsions had subsided, he eased himself out of her pulsing cunt, taking care not to tear or lose the filled condom. He briefly excused himself to the restroom to remove it and quickly clean up, then returned to us and collapse on the bed. I lifted her up again and slid down to snuggle up beside her. She beamed up at me and Roland. Her satisfaction caused her face to glow. Her eyes danced even brighter than before and her smile dazzled me.

By this time, it was very late, or early in the morning depending on your perspective, so we could only bask in the wonderful glory of our time together. The sun would be rising in just over 2 hours. Our darling Diva had to take leave of us. Roland and I got up to help her gather her clothes, which had been strewn about. She had planned ahead by bringing comfy clothes to wear home, rather than putting herself back into her clubwear.

While she dressed, we all exchanged promises to keep in touch after she returned home to Berlin the day after next. There was no doubt about the bond that had been forged over the course of the week and had been sealed that evening. At last it was time for her to go. She kissed us both sweetly and disappeared into the pre-dawn darkness.

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. 😉

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.  –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…


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!

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. 🙂

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! 😛
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. 😉


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