Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.He Claimed to be Greek
Posted on October 18, 2009I went with my neighbor Ruby to see her husband’s band play at a club in North Beach. I don’t often get out of my neighborhood so it was a nice change. Ruby bought me a couple of drinks and then one of her friends bought me a couple more. The band was good. I was having a lovely time.
A friend had to work the next morning so she left pretty early. I walked her out to the sidewalk to say goodbye. I lamented the fact that no one was hitting on me. Finally, I jokingly yelled out, “Will someone please fuck me
It worked.
The closest guy actually said yes. Great. We went across the street to a small bar. The man had a foreign accent so I asked where he picked it up. He said he was Greek. He claimed to be a powerful business man of some sort. Ok, whatever.
The guy was nice enough. Eventually the bar closed, but he knew the bartender and the bouncer so the four of us hung out for a bit. The bartender even brought his dog out from the back.
The bartender was a tiny little guy. The bouncer was bouncer-size plus about 100 pounds. They were an interesting pair. By the time we all left the bar I was convinced the bartender and the bouncer were a couple. I told the Greek business magnate my thoughts, but he didn’t believe it was possible. Whatever, I have good gaydar.
Aristotle Onassis and I went back to my apartment. We went about fucking. In the normal course of things I ventured toward his ass. He freaked the fuck out. He leaped off the bed and yelled things like, “I’m not like that. I’m not the fag.”
Of course when I found out Spiro Latsis was uptight about anal and thought that only fags put things in their butts my opinion of him changed considerably. Nonetheless, I talked him down and told him it was no big deal. Why I try to talk to men when they’re sexed up is beyond me, because I surely wasn’t going to change his mind.
I think by that time I didn’t give a shit about ever seeing Philip Niarchos again. He got back in bed. We again started fooling around. And I again went for his ass. He again popped up out of bed. And began to get dressed. He kept yelling that he wasn’t like that. I told him to calm the fuck down, and that a finger in his ass would not make him gay.
I think he eventually fucked me, but things were most definitely not nearly as hot as they were before he freaked out. I thought “Greek” was a euphemism for liking ass play. That’s what Greek Guy told me back when we met anyway. That Greek guy loved all things anal, both giving and receiving. That’s the kind of straight guy I like. Uptight is boring as fuck.
I swear. True story.
3/12/90: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 17, 20095:41 am
On a bus – supposed to go to San Jose for a peer counseling conference. The only problem [was that at the last minute my school's peer counseling class decided not to go. I lived closer to another high school so I got a ride there and got on the bus for the conference. I was completely shocked when the bus did not stop at my high school on the way to San Jose.]
2:30 pm
Now I’m stuffed in a room full of people to hear about making relationship choices. Boy, do I need help in that department. I’m not even supposed to be here and am going under Lindsey Burne’s name.
I Fucked a Hipster
Posted on October 16, 2009I know, I should be ashamed. I should be. Only I’m not all that much. It was fun.
It was a Thursday. I had been home, alone, drinking. Not too much, just the right amount of drinking for being alone. And it was wine, not liquor. Wine is ok to drink alone, right?
My neighbor, Ruby, called me and asked if I wanted to go out with her, her husband, and a couple of friends. They were already pre-drinking in their apartment. Ruby, knowing I’m poor, offered to pay my way.
I figured I might as well go out. Ruby had been telling me that the Cat Club on Thursdays was a meat market and that I’d have fun. I quickly got dressed and went upstairs to Ruby’s apartment.
Everyone was dressed much nicer than I, as they had had more time to get ready. Everyone was also much drunker than I, as they had been drinking vodka and Red Bull rather than wine.
We took a cab to the club. We waited in line for a short time and then entered the hottest room on the planet. I wanted to die. It wasn’t a nice dry heat like a sauna, and it wasn’t even the same as the oppressive heat of humidity. But it was humid – with human sweat. And booze.
It was absolutely packed. We worked our way through the crowd to the bar. We ordered drinks. While we waited for our drinks the heat and humidity hit me, hard. I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that was quickly starting to cling to my skin.
I was hot as fuck. Not sexy hot. Temperature hot. And since I was so temperature hot, I ran the risk of sweating too much, which is most definitely not sexy hot. One of the girls in the group told me she had on two tank tops and asked if I wanted to borrow one.
Fuck yeah. So I took of my long-sleeved shirt, she took off one of her tank tops, and then I put on her tank top. While we were waiting for drinks. Standing at the bar. The crowd was too damn thick to get through to the bathroom, and I’m sure there was a line for the bathroom anyway, so I’d've just taken it off in front of a bunch of chicks in the bathroom, and what’s the difference between a bunch of chicks in the bathroom and a bunch of chicks and some dudes out in the club anyway?
By the time I received my drink I was talking to the guy next to me. I believe he saw my dressing room antics. The group went to sit somewhere in the back of the club; I stayed to talk to Tim.
Tim was tall, well over 6 feet. Tim had a mustache worthy of Tom Selleck at the height of his power. He also had dark hair that was kind of long and greasy. He was dressed pretty shitty, too. But for whatever reason I thought he was cute. And he was talking to me.
Tim had a friend, who was the light-haired version of him. Shitty haircut, 70s ‘stashe, and bad clothes.
But I liked Tim. Before I finished my drink I told him that I wanted to fuck him.
We left the club and hailed a cab. I was in the Cat Club for a total of maybe ten minutes. I never sat down. I never danced. I never joined my friends.
When Tim and I left, his friend left too. I said I would fuck both of them, and the friend got in our cab. Uh, on the second thought, I can only handle one powerfully masculine mustache at a time.
Tim shut the cab door. His friend thought he was getting a threesome, instead he was in a cab alone. Sorry.
Tim and I took a cab to my house where we proceeded to fuck. I don’t recall the sex at all. I’m sure it was fine, because if it was particularly shitty I’d've remembered.
I’m quite proud that I remember Tim’s name. I don’t usually remember names, or even faces. What usually clues me in to whether I’ve fucked a guy in the past is the look on his face.
This year at Folsom Street Fair a guy stared at me as he walked by. I had no fucking clue who he was, but the way he looked at me made it clear he definitely recognized me. But he didn’t say hello, and I wasn’t about to chase him down.
Then a guy came up to me and asked me if I lived in a loft in the Mission around ____ Street. He had my place in mind. “Why? Did I fuck you?” was my response.
He said that no, he had not fucked me, but that he had slept on my couch. He pointed at his friend, the guy who had stared at me, and he told me that he had fucked me.
And then I remembered. The guy who was too chickenshit to say hello to me at Folsom Street Fair and I had fucked. I picked him up outside some club. I had been at the club with a friend (coincidentally the one from whom I’d borrowed the tank top at the Cat Club) and a group of us went back to my house after the club closed. His friend and my friend slept on the couch. I fucked the guy in my bedroom.
He was young and extremely submissive. He wanted nothing more than for me to sit on his face. I need a bit more give and take sexwise so when he contacted me to get together again I didn’t respond.
And that he wasn’t even able to talk to me, and sent his friend to confirm my identity, made me want to fuck him even less. I’m sure we’ll never see each other again.
Which is one of the things I dig about casual sex and knowing it’s casual sex, and knowing it’s going to be a one-night stand: That the parties involved don’t pretend that they want any more than the night.
I’ve not seen Tim again. Neither one of us pretended it’d be otherwise.
I swear. True story.
from Wickedmind
Posted on October 15, 2009[This is another submission from a guest writer, @wickedmind on Twitter.]
We are still in the hotel, we drifted of in a solid sleep after yesterday’s ordeal.
You wake up … only to find you can’t move.
Your hands and legs are immobilized and when you open your eyes it’s pitch black darkness.
You panic. You struggle in your binds. You scream you’ve had enough.
But nothing else than utter silence remains.
You wonder what’s next as you call my name. How I love to hear it come from you with that hint of distress in it.
I leave you there on the bed as you hear me (is it me?) rumbling through the room.
An occasional tug on your restraints tell me you have not quite accepted this new situation.
I untie one leg to bind your calf to your thigh. You struggle. Ah, you’ve regained some strength.
But only to find that resistance is futile as the other leg experiences the same treatment.
You call my name again and again, asking me what I am doing.
But silence is the answer.
My hands glide over your thighs, to stop right before your pussy.
You really can’t move, other than wiggle your nice behind, but I am in total control now.
Then you feel something soft trace the lines and curves of your body, paying extra attention to your nipples.
They stand erect like nothing else in the world. The soft thing traces down your belly and starts to brush along your pussy.
The tickling sends jolts of sensations through your body.
You sigh, you fight your restraints.
Ah the beautiful sight of you on display like this gives me a raging hard-on.
I decide to stop playing on your sensory overload. Suddenly you feel movement next to your head.
Your face turning towards the movement, then you feel a warm thick cock enter your mouth.
And with one gentle but unstoppable thrust it goes in till you feel balls against your face.
Thus begins a silent facefuck. You can do nothing else but let yourself being used like this.
You feel the cock relentlessly entering and exiting your mouth and throat.
As all of a sudden it stops, you hear a moan and a warm fluid is all over your face. You try to get some with your tongue as you feel a finger helping you to scoop it in.
Than you hear a whack. You say no, not that!
But the way your pussy is betraying you. You must be ashamed for being such a slut. There is a wet spot on the blankets already from leaking fluids.
You feel soft taps on your thighs. The taps have a pattern slightly harder each time they hit target and each time a bit more closer to your labia.
You try to escape it with every hit. If you could only see my grin.
Spread wide unable to move cum on your face mmmmmmm.
Then the tapping goes to your tits. I hear you say ouch when a hit lands directly on the nipple that is invitingly erect.
Only to feel the pain softened with a kiss. But those do not feel like mine!
Then a slap straight on your pussy. OUCH! Again softened by a soft kiss.
You want to ask what is going on but you feel something over your face.
A person. There are legs on each side of your head. I see your body tremble.
Then you feel two hands straighten your face and something soft and wet is touching your lips.
Again a slap on your pussy and as you try to release a sound you feel a pussy being pushed on your cumdrenched face.
You have no choice and you have to taste the musklike fluid now leaving its taste on your tongue.
You pussy is leaking more and more as you feel a finger entering your cunt.
Your clit is rubbed by another as you have no other option than to follow the directions given by a soft female voice: “Lick me.”
You hear sloppy noises from the lower side of your body as a dildo is being put in your ass.
Then you hear a knock on the door.
You hear the door being opened and closed.
Who is it you mumble while licking that pussy.
You hear a belt come loose, a zipper unzip and clothes being taken off.
Now you panic again and say something about not wanting this.
But as I said, you’re in MY control. A slap on your face brings you back to your task of servicing the pussy presented to you.
All of a sudden you feel a cock enter your pussy and it isn’t mine but it sure does feel familiar.
You hear a Polaroid take pictures.
No, no, pictures. NO!
But the ravaging on your body continues and the sensory overload is now building an orgasm in your body.
You feel the female body on top of you shake and with an extra flicker of your tongue you feel the liquids pouring from her twat into your mouth.
Meanwhile, the cock still is pounding you.
She leaves your body and your tits are being caressed. And again a cock! At your face!
Now you’ll have every hole filled in your body.
And the pace is picked up you have an orgasm like never before while bound and filled to the brim.
You scream like the room is on fire. Then you feel the two cocks are thickening and the both pull out.
Only to spray their cum allover your body. The silence is deafening as you lie there and you hear clothes being picked up and the door open and close.
I untie you.
The blindfold is taken off.
And when your eyes are used to the light you see Polaroids laying all around.
On one you see how the maid is sitting her twat on your face and on the other you see how your hubby and I double team your hot body.
With the text written on them, “Enjoy, Hubby.”
3/11/90: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 14, 20098:53 am
Well found out what the hell is going on with Erica. She was being a butt and ranking on me because Juree wants to get back together and she’s going to do it. [I was just used to prove to Juree that Erica can be good.] She was trying to get me so tired of her that I’d break up with her ’cause she’s too slimy and doesn’t have the guts to do anything right. She told me Friday night at work after we were off. I had to get really angry and confront her before she’d tell me the truth. I was so filled with rage that I couldn’t be in the same room as her for fear that I’d hurt her. So I walked home but stopped to collapse to cry and take the chain off to throw it in a field. When I was going up our hill, Shannon came driving up and Erica hopped out of the passenger’s seat. I told her I did not want to talk to her but she wanted to prove to me that everything I said wasn’t true – that I was only a time filler, that she didn’t love me, that she was just waiting for Juree.
A Fucking Machine May Not Be for Me (Part 1)
Posted on October 13, 2009I tried, twice.
Maybe social events where everyone happens to get fucked by a fucking machine aren’t for me. Either way, I’m a tad disappointed in myself, and surprised.
I went to a friend’s house for the specific purpose of utilizing the fucking machine. Fucking machines being what they are – either expensive, or feats of engineering, or both – they are not all that common, at least amongst my crowd. So when someone has one she understandably wants to share the wealth.
There were four of us ladies, our hostess Nadia Boots, Minax, Margo, and I. Right away Nadia introduced me to the machine. It looked robotic, but had a big phallus on it, so I could definitely see the appeal.
While Ms. Boots showed me around her cool apartment Minax and Margo spent some time with the machine. When we walked by the room the ladies seemed to be having a lovely time.
Our hostess and I got me some drinks and put out some snacky food. Eventually Minax joined us in the kitchen; she said Margo wanted to be alone with the machine. Minax got about to making a great dinner of lamb chops with rosemary salt, dandelion greens, and romaine salad with black olive dressing. Needless to say, it was delicious.
But before we sat to eat Margo joined the three of us in the kitchen. She was clearly spent. She looked relaxed, with hooded eyelids and the barest hint of a grin. She announced that she liked the fucking machine very much.
While there I received a phone call from a friend, Mr. Zip, a friend with whom I have threesomes. Which wouldn’t be all that interesting except that it came out in our conversation that he and Margo had recently met, and were considering some fun, sexy times. San Francisco is so fucking small. I told Margo Mr. Zip has a big cock and generally gave him the thumbs up.
After dinner the four of us again greeted the machine. Nadia even got dressed up for him in a sexy lace-trimmed slip. Everyone took turns with him, trying different positions.
I tried reclining on the couch with my legs spread and the machine fucking my pussy. I had a Magic Wand on my clit. And then … nothing.
A variation of this is how I masturbate to hard, fun come; with a phallic dildo or vibrator in my pussy and a Magic Wand on my clit. Only I’m alone.
Exhibitionist I am not, and if I had any thoughts that I was they were crushed that night. Having the room illuminated, everyone knowing me and looking at me, my body just did not perform. That machine could have been fucking me, and the Magic Wand vibrating my clit, for a significant amount of time without me coming given that set of circumstances.
I’ve had relatively public sex, and been caught on a number of occasions, including my first time having vaginal intercourse ever. But getting caught hasn’t completely stopped me from fantasizing about having public sex or from having public sex.
My latest fantasy involves kneeling on a bar working my way from one end to the other sucking the guys off.
I like going to Club Kiss, which is arguably public sex (in a private club), but the lights are low, I know very few of the people in attendance, and I’m usually focused on whichever partner with whom I’m there.
Nadia could see that things were not going to happen for me, and had me make way for someone else to get it from the fucking machine. All five (four ladies and the machine) of us became intertwined.
Things got a little fuzzy. I was drinking and also things were sexy fucking hot and made me loopy. I pulled hair I shouldn’t have. I bit someone I shouldn’t have.
I should have – and did – put on a glove, lubed up my fingers, and slid them into Minax’s ass. Just one finger at first. And then she asked for another finger. I fucking love it when someone asks me for more.
It was amazing the way the machine was fucking Minax. The phallus was not going into her pussy, but was going between her labia minora, which were pierced together. The dildo, which was attached to the fucking machine was fucking the length of her vulva, between her labia, and behind the piercings. Un-fucking-believable.
It was amazing to see, but according to Minax’s reaction she had way more fun than mere voyeurism could provide. It was fucking fabulous. And then she squirted. Amazing. I’d like to think I helped out a bit, with the fingers in her ass.
I’d been squirted on before, and I’ll write about the first time eventually, but nonetheless, having a woman come so hard she squirts is definitely a bit of an ego boost.
Minax was nice enough to share her cab with me. I do hope to see her again (NOT to date) because she is such a cool and interesting woman, and a great cook to boot.
The next night I went back for more ….
I swear. True story.
3/9/90: A Diary Entry
Posted on October 12, 2009She hasn’t come by le classe de français yet but oh well. I’m sure she had a nice evening and has forgotten who the hell little ‘ol I am. Life is grand. Yeah. I could have talked to Amy this morning but I was busily typing and I also didn’t really want to know what went on. Beth’s wearing shorts today – she looks very nice, well, at least her legs. I have to start doing more with school. I don’t want to fail government and I can’t if I want to graduate, which I do. I have to register for American River College and also take placement tests some time this month. So even if I do live downtown, I can still go to school as long as I can afford it. I just don’t know though ’cause I don’t know what the hell is going on with Erica.
