Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.Photo Lotto 25
Posted on January 20, 2012
This could be a lot of fun. I haven't seen a guy in tighty whities in I don't know how long, but on the right guy they could be sexy. On the wrong guy they could be downright laughable.
There is something about rubbing a cock – or a pussy – through cloth that feels clandestine and dirty. The most fun is continuing to rub the cock after he came so the material is wet and sticky. If the guy has a lot of precome – leaky faucets are fun – then the whole handjob would be a nicely moist affair.
I swear. True story.
March 4, 1992: A Diary Entry
Posted on January 13, 20122:21 A.M.
Henry came over Monday night. He brought me a flower – a white rose with baby’s breath and all that. We got high and then for a little bit we just layed [sic] and cuddled. And then he touched me. His hands all over me pressing and massaging. And when he finally got to my breasts. It felt so good. So good to have his hands on me exploring my body. Then we slowed down and rested for a while. Then he wanted me to take a shower with him but I just couldn’t. He seemed very irritated as well he should have – I know I would’ve been. I’m just really shy about my own body and especially about looking at his. I know I’ll only get over this fear by confronting it but I’m not ready yet. I’m not even ready to admit my real reason to someone else. I told him that showering with someone was a really intimate and personal thing and that even though I should be because we had already shared quite a bit, I wasn’t ready. Which, actually sort of is true.
So he told me to take off my clothes. I complied and layed [sic] down on the bed. I could hear him removing his garments and got excited. He slid under the covers next to me and pressed his warm, naked body to mind. His hands explored my body from behind until I turned onto my back so he could have more of me, so I could feel what he had to give me. His hand found its way between my thighs and dipped into my wetness. It was a relief to finally have something inside me.
[I haven't given myself over to him completely yet. I'm afraid to become to dependent on him and he'll grow to resent me. What's sad is I can see it happening – me suffocating him into running. But I don't want to, I just get so scared that I'll be alone. I haven't come with him yet because I think that would mean he's gotten inside me – to my soul – and will know how to hurt me.]
He pushed his fingers deep into my cunt and twisted and turned his and so I could feel his power. While his fingers were inside me, I reached down to my clit. Everything was so wet and hot. He licked at me and then pushed his cock into me. Oh my god. I told him to talk to me. He said he felt so good inside me, that he wanted to get deeper. I could barely talk but to swear to god I had never felt that way. And I hadn’t. Maybe it was the pot but I don’t really care because it felt so damn good. The whole time I kept thinking about how huge he felt inside me, so big filled me up. I could have died at that moment a very satisfied woman. I got the usual pangs to tell him I love him but held out once again.
Photo Lotto 17
Posted on November 17, 2011
For years I read erotica and such and thought any descriptions of “dripping wet” pussies were written by 12-year-olds who had never had actual sex with actual women. I still think there is some exaggeration – really, your panties were “soaked”? – but I also know that some women actually do get really fucking wet.
I’m not one of them. Lube is my friend. I believe I have what is in the range of “normal” sexual response, but I don’t produce an excess of lube.
Over the course of my sex life I have learned to deal with this handicap (that I in no way think is a handicap). Sometimes I just tell my partner, “I don’t get really wet,” in a very matter-of-fact fashion. Other times I tell the person where the lube is and hope he or she will get the hint.
I’ve also come to enjoy the feeling a “dry” pussy allows me. I love the way it feels like whatever it is – cock, fingers, dildo – has to force its way into me.
This woman doesn’t seem to have that issue. Or it could be that all that dripping, wet-looking stuff is lube. Or it could be ejaculate.
I swear. True story.
jerking off
Posted on November 11, 2011Shazam and I picked up a Tenga Egg at a Pleasure Chest sale recently. After I tried it out we had a short discussion about masturbation. This led to her asking me to write about it.
Free hand
We all started here. It’s all you really need. Grab a Kleenex, whip it out and start fapping. The problem is with the money shot. Just letting it go can be messy. Grabbing a Kleenex and covering up at the last moment to limit the mess can cause you to lose your momentum. You do get good at it, though. If you’re undressed and lying down you can just come on your belly and clean up afterward.
Using a condom
I started jerking off with a condom on when I went non-monogamous to get (re)used to fucking while wearing one. This has several advantages. You put some lube in the tip, roll it on once you’re hard, and off you go. The condom slides smoothly near the tip while staying snug at the base of your cock. When you come the condom catches it. Then you can slip it off carefully so as to avoid spillage. Clean up with a Kleenex and you’re done. You don’t need to worry about getting come on your clothes, furniture, or keyboard. Condoms are cheap as well.
We saw these a while back and thought we should give them a try. Later, we found them on sale while shopping at The Pleasure Chest. When the sales clerk suggested the “eggs” could be turned inside out and put on the heads of Hitachi Magic Wands, Shazam was sold on it.
I gave it a try for its intended use. I washed it, and added lube as prescribed. I spun up some porn and slipped the egg over my now erect cock and went at it. One thing we wondered was if the texture on the inside would be overly discernible. I didn’t find it to be. It was like jerking off in a sloppy, thick, ill-fitting condom. Furthermore, lube made its way down my cock and out of the egg, resulting in a puddle in my [well-trimmed – Shazam] pubes. The desired result was achieved, but as the egg isn’t snug like a condom, it was harder to keep stuff from spilling out afterward. I wasn’t overwhelmed by either the utility or tidiness of the egg.
Summary
My choice is to masturbate either by hand if cleanup isn’t a concern (i.e naked, and ideally lying down) or with a condom if it is. I found the egg impractical, messy, and with no advantage over a condom. Also, they’re damned expensive.
Warren’s “Cheating” (10)
Posted on September 23, 2011[Continued from "Warren's 'Cheating' (9)."]
They came home, stripped off their clothing, and got into bed. They snuggled tightly for a while. He had been resisting the temptation for a while, but it finally got the better of him and he had to speak.
“I don’t want you to have dirty sex with other men, but not me” he said, in an almost guilty tone.
She looked at him, but didn’t say anything. She had made up her mind about it months before, but his anguish was beginning to drain her.
“All guys want their women to do dirty things,” he said, sounding a little too pensive. “I mean, every guy’s fantasy is a woman who loves having sex … like in a porno,” he continued. She realized her silence was an excellent prompt, and waited for him to continue.
“So I don’t think it’s so much that I want to have that kind of sex with you, but I just don’t want to be missing out on seeing you do it,” he finished. He looked at her, gauging her response.
“So … you’d be okay with what I want to do, if only you could see it,” she summarized.
“I think so. I just feel totally left out. It’s one thing for you to be seeing other men and doing the same stuff we do together… but when it’s a totally different experience, I feel like you’re shutting me out.”
“Well, I don’t intend to shut you out,” she admitted. “I just never through you could handle it. I thought you’d start demanding the same kind of sex with me.”
“I won’t,” he offered. “I’ll just watch. I’m totally fascinated with it. I just want to know what you’re doing. It’ll make me feel so much better about it.”
She considered this for a while. “Okay. Alright. I think it might be okay if you watch me sometimes when I’m in one of those moods.”
He smiled broadly. “Really?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” she continued. After a pause, she made a counter-offer. “Except there’s one more thing. I want to make it a deal. You have to give something up if you want to watch me.” She smiled, satisfied with the plan.
He pursed his lips. “Give up … what?” he asked nervously.
“Cumming inside me,” she said quickly.
“What?!” he raged.
“That’s my offer. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too. I’m not completely okay with you invading my privacy, you know. And I deserve privacy. If you want to watch, you need to give me something in return.”
They sat in silence for a minute.
“Well, I can cum anywhere else, right?”
“Anywhere else,” she reassured. “But I want to leave my pussy for other men.”
“Okay. Deal,” he said quickly. He was in a bargaining mood. She had the feeling she could have restricted intercourse entirely, and he would have accepted it. She felt almost a bit ashamed for having considered that idea hot, though. Only a sense of propriety stopped her short.
He was practically jumping on the bed at this point. “Will you show me the whole tape then? Show me your favorite parts?”
“You’re never going to cum inside me again if I show you. You know that, right? I’m serious.” She tried to sound stern, but wasn’t sure if it came across. She meant it entirely, and hoped this decision wouldn’t spark weeks of fighting.
“I understand. I just need to be involved in all parts of your life,” he said, smiling sincerely.
She went into her closet, opened a few shoe storage boxes, and pulled out a number of small videotapes. She loaded the first into the camcorder, breathed a big sigh, and started the tape. She lay back down with him, remote in hand, and proceeded to show him her favorite parts.
Her favorite parts were a double-penetration with two very large men, both of whom came inside her, their cum dripping out in a torrent, a very rough deepthroating by another, and finally four men cumming in her mouth and on her chin in quick succession at the end of the tape.
He found himself searching for words. He had never seen anything so sexy on any pornographic tape, and had no idea she was even physically capable of doing the things he saw her do on the tape. He started to touch himself almost automatically, and she pushed his hand away as she continued to fast-forward from highlight to highlight.
“You’ve been doing this kind of stuff … for how long?”
“For years, honey, long before I met you. Are you okay?”
“I want you,” he said, pulling the covers aside to look at her naked body. He looked back at the screen to see two men working their enormous cocks into her pussy at the same time, and was overwhelmed. He practically pounced on her, and she was happy to receive him.
“I won’t cum in you,” he promised obediently as he entered her.
“Never again,” she reminded him.
“Never again,” he breathed wordlessly. His own orgasm took only seconds due to his delirious arousal, and he obediently pulled out and came all over her tummy.
“Lick it off if you want to see more,” she said suddenly, almost stunned with her own force.
He did so more obediently than she could have imagined any man would, and was happy to lay beside her and hold her afterward.
[That's it, kids. And since I've not spoken to Warren for years, that's all you'll get. Of course I am willing to entertain submissions from y'all: ShazamChi@yahoo.com.]
Warren’s “Cheating” (8)
Posted on September 13, 2011[Continued from "Warren's 'Cheating' (7)."]
The rest of the week went as he imagined. Each night, every ten minutes, he received another picture or short movie clip. He continued to send text messages and leave her voicemails, sometimes up to a half-dozen times a day, to let her know he was thinking about her. She did not answer the phone or respond to his text messages, but most of the emails he got contained some kind of sweet note, in addition to the very graphic evidence of her continued infidelity. He was anxious to fly home not to stop the barrage of emails (he saved every one permanently to his computer), but simply to actually have a live conversation with her.
She met him at the airport wearing her prettiest dress and an enormous smile. She ran to him, jumped into his arms, and smothered him with kisses. They held each other for several minutes, as if they hadn’t seen each other for years. When she broke their embrace, he asked if she’d accompany him to dinner, and explained that he had made reservations at her favorite restaurant. She squealed with happiness, and the two departed, arm in arm at last.
He had his hopes up that she was going to explain her entire week in excruciating detail, and began goading her as soon as they were in the car.
“So, how was your week baby?”
“Oh, it was good… I missed you. I was kind of bored. You know, just normal work stuff.”
“You couldn’t possibly have been bored, you sent me all that stuff.”
“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t all from this week.”
“Some of it had to have been,” he said, preparing his Detective voice. “We switched those two pictures on the wall about two days before I left, and at least some of the pictures showed them. In fact, I don’t think any of the pictures showed them the way they used to be.”
“Well, okay,” she smiled broadly, “I wasn’t that bored. But I definitely did miss you.”
“Fair enough,” he said triumphantly. “But will you tell me one thing?”
“Maybe,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she smiled.
“How many times … did you?”
“Oh honey, you don’t want to know things like that,” she said, stroking his arm.
“I really do, actually,” he said.
“How many do you think?” she challenged.
“I don’t know, I sometimes couldn’t tell the guys apart. It seemed like at least ten different guys were in different pictures.”
She laughed out loud. “You really scoured those pictures, didn’t you baby?”
“Well, yeah, it’s the only thing I had to do at night.”
“What, you couldn’t go find yourself some tiny little Japanese hooker and relieve yourself?”
“Do you think that’s what I wanted?”
“I don’t know, what did you want?” she asked coyly.
“What I really wanted was to see the entire video tape. You sent me four little pieces from it.”
She just smiled at him.
“So… will I get to see the entire video tape?” he asked hopefully.
She hesitated, but did not stop smiling. “I don’t know,” was all she said. She cocked her head to the side, considering.
“Oh, come on, you let me see some of the best parts of it already,” he said.
“Those weren’t necessarily the best parts, sweetie.”
“Please?” He didn’t know what else to say.
“I’ll think about it,” she said in a sort of authoritarian way.
He decided that pressuring her was not likely to elicit a positive response, so he doubled back and decided to ask more questions.
“How long is the video?” he asked, almost shaking in anticipation of her answer.
“Well… it wasn’t just one video, it was three. And each was pretty much a full tape, ninety minutes.”
He was stunned. He tried to do the math… seven days, four and half hours of video, more than 30 minutes a day on average.
“Wow,” was all he managed to say. “You mean…”
“But honey, you can’t see the tapes,” she said, suddenly seeming to have made up her mind.
“Why not?” he said, aware that it sounded like he was about to whine.
She sighed slightly. “I just prefer to keep them to myself.”
After a few minutes of pained silence, she continued. “The tapes show me doing things I’ve never done with you, and I don’t want you to get any ideas.” She knew this was a bombshell, and she was going to enjoy the aftermath. They were just pulling into the restaurant parking lot, and he was going to have to wait a while to get anything more out of her.
His jaw dropped. “You mean … the clips you sent me were … the tame parts?” He thought back to the video clips, which all had shown her having very savage sex with different men. One had shown her accepting an enormous load of cum in her mouth.
“Well, they certainly weren’t my favorite parts,” she said, opening her car door.
[To be continued ….]
I’m Not Complaining (5)
Posted on September 12, 2011[Continued from "I’m Not Complaining (4).”
I’m not complaining when I say that by the time a man is in his 30s he knows how his dick measures up, so it was extremely silly when he asked me, “Is it big enough?” He knew very well that he had a pretty big cock, and I told him as much. Sure, I understand it’s nice to hear, but it’s not my job to boost a guy’s self esteem. I didn’t ask him if any of my parts were up to par; it was obvious we were going to have sex so at that point it didn’t matter.
I’m not complaining that his bush wasn’t trimmed. Everyone has the right to decide how to groom himself. I just don’t like having to stop mid-blowjob to pull hairs out of my mouth.
I’m not complaining that he didn’t fuck me hard. Nor am I complaining that when I asked him to fuck me harder that he said he couldn’t or he’d come.
I’m not complaining that when I told him to go ahead and come, just fuck me hard, he didn’t. I’m not complaining that he didn’t fuck me hard enough and didn’t come anyway. Well, he came, but not until later, and in my mouth.
I’m not complaining that after “Top Chef: Just Desserts” ended, a Kathy Griffin stand-up show came on. Actually, I am complaining. There is not much less sexy to listen to than Kathy Griffin. I must have one pretty goddamn talented mouth to make a guy come while her annoying voice talks shit about idiots.
I’m not complaining that he didn’t give me cab fare home. He had been paying all night. But it’s still nice to be sent on one’s way knowing your date cares enough to make sure you can make it home safely.
I may see him again if he’s in town.
I swear. True story.
