I’ve never tried to fist my ass and it’s likely that I never will.  And I suppose this chick’s not doing that either, but I hope that’s on it’s way, if she likes it.

I swear.  True story.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

We’d already fucked that day.  It had been a long couple of days without any fucking at all, which was not our style.  There was no good reason we hadn’t fucked, but that day our dry spell ended.

After a long walk that included getting ousted from the outdoor patio of a restaurant because we had Isis with us – something that pissed me off even more when I saw that the patio welcomed children to the tune of a communal toy on which a kid could roll around the patio, annoying the humans – we took turns showering.  We’ve developed a habit where he waits in the bedroom for me when I’m wrapped in my big, fluffy robe fresh out of the shower.  He takes the opportunity of the easy-to-open robe to give my pussy, and almost always my ass, too, a nice munching.

We didn’t fuck, which I know disappointed him.  I know he’s disappointed whenever we don’t fuck.

Later, when it was time to change from our street clothes to our comfy clothes, I suggested we fuck.  He had a big smile on his face and said, “I was hoping you’d say that.”  We fucked, and it was good.

He almost always goes to bed before me.  He’s told me time and again that no matter how late I come to bed, that if I want sex, I’m to wake him up.  I know that.  If I wake him up for sex he will not be cranky, quite the opposite.

I had been watching some tv and reading some sexy stories.  I had read, again and again, the stories the Viking wrote about the very fucking we had had and they still turned me on.  At one point I realized that if reading about the fucking we had done in the past was turning me on, that I could actually have more of the same, thereby not only turning me on, but getting me off.

We’d already fucked that day.  But I hadn’t come.  I wanted to come.

I went to the bedroom and took off my comfy pants.  He knows that if I don’t have any pants on that he is welcome to have his way with me.  Sometimes he even takes my pants off and has his way with me anyway, but if my pants are already off he knows I want it.

I told him I wanted to come.  He licked my pussy.  He licked my ass.  The Viking knows how to lick me just right.  He also knows what makes me come, and just a tongue – even a very skilled one – wasn’t going to do it.

He began putting fingers in me.  I could tell by the way he was finger fucking me that he wanted to fist fuck me.  I had thought I wanted to come a different way, but as I relaxed and he put more fingers into me and lubed up his hand, I wanted that whole hand.

The moment when he just pushes past the opening the first time is fucking glorious.  It’s when people less experienced with fisting will back off, but those who are experienced know to push on.

By that time I had the Magic Wand on my clit.  His hand was in my cunt.  By then I was not feeling delicate in the least.  I felt strong.  He knew it.  He knew he could be rough with my cunt.

After a little bit he pulled his hand all the way out and pushed it all the way back in.  Again.  And again.  All the way out.  All the way back in.  Punch fucking my cunt.  Absolutely no hyperbole there.

His whole hand was pounding my cunt and I still wanted more.  I wanted his cock in there too.  No, I wanted his cock in his hand in my cunt; I wanted him to jack his cock off inside my cunt.  He’s done it before.  It’s fucking dirty and fucking wrong and when I’m in the mood for it it’s fucking right.

When I’m like that I have no clue how the Viking is able to accommodate my demands.  “Put your cock in my ass while your fist in in my cunt.”  “Jack off inside my cunt.” “Hold my legs back while you pound me.”  He’s a lot more flexible than I realize.

When I’m demanding like that I ask for things that a couple of minutes later I forget.  More than once I’ve told the Viking to pull out of my pussy and come on my tits or my face, and then by the time he does actually pull out of my pussy and come on my tits or my face, I’m pleasantly surprised.  I’m glad he remembers.

So when he wasn’t able to get both his cock and fist into my cunt I definitely wasn’t disappointed because by the time I had my loud orgasm that hopefully made the neighbors jealous of the great fucking sex we have, I had forgotten I had made the request.

We’d already fucked.  And we fucked some more.

I swear.  True story.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

[Another of the Viking's stories that has been on Fleshbot.  I suppose they like the dirty stuff.]

We were both so horny that we groped and kissed only briefly before I forced my cock into her. We fucked primally for a while before I pulled out and made my way down to her pussy, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

I spent time using my mouth on her pussy before pushing her legs up and forcibly holding them with a hand behind each knee. With her like that I had full access to her asshole, and took full advantage, licking and tonguefucking with abandon. This continued for some time, rolling her onto her side then her belly and slipping 2 fingers into her pussy as I continued tonguing her ass. I love how she pushes her ass back onto my face when I have my tongue in her ass. So deliciously crude and nasty.

But after continuing that for a while, I rolled her onto her back and put my cock back into her pussy and pounded her until we both lie there, sweaty and breathing hard. After catching our breath, she rolls over onto her knees with her shoulders on the bed, ass in the air. “Put it in me from behind.”

That view of her pussy and ass is so exquisite that I had to take a moment and worship with my mouth once more. But only for a moment, before I slipped my cock into her cunt. As I fucked her, I teased her asshole with my thumb, eventually pushing it all the way in. That got a very favorable response. I continued fucking her ass with my thumb until she asked for more. I slipped my thumb out and replaced it with a finger. I added another and started rubbing my cock which was still in her pussy.

In time I slipped my fingers from her ass and replaced them with my cock, eventually coming deep in her ass.

“You’re not finished yet,” she said when I pulled out of her ass. Silly girl. I had no intention of being finished with her yet. She flipped onto her back and grabbed the Hitachi. I lubed up a couple fingers and slipped them into her pussy. Two, three, four. In to my thumb, then all the way out, twisting all the while, stretching her and opening her for what was about to happen.

I added more lube, tucked in my thumb and slowly pushed the rest of my hand into her. I love that point the first time my hand is going into her, when the base of the thumb clears and my whole hand gets sucked in.

I fisted her and, as usually happens, started playing with her asshole. I soon had 2 fingers in her ass in addition to the hand in her pussy. The fingers in her ass, palm facing up (and toward my other hand), let me rub the hand in her pussy. That was mind blowing. I spread the fingers in her ass so that I had one on either side of my other hand.

Soon I was pounding her with my hand: pulling all the way out before thrusting it back in. The whole time with those fingers in her ass, feeling every move of my other hand. Then, with a little rearranging of my hand, I started rubbing her gspot with a couple knuckles. Between the Hitachi on her clit, my hand in her cunt, and my fingers in her ass, she was soon trashing and bucking and screaming through her orgasm.

She’d finally had enough, and we soon had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

I woke as she came into the bedroom to join me for the night. She slipped off her PJs before climbing into the bed, which is generally an indication that she is looking for sex. How could I refuse? We kissed for a bit, caressing and groping each other. I was rock hard by the time her hand found its way to my crotch.

“Mmm,” was all she said before moving down to take my cock in her mouth. She quickly had me moaning from what her mouth was doing to me. She sucked me and handled my balls, squeezing and pulling, driving me wild.

After a time she sat up on her knees, and swung a leg over me. She grasped my cock and positioned her pussy over it. She used her weight to force my cock into her and proceeded to rock and grind, making me arch to try to force my way deeper into her. She moved off her knees and onto her feet, leaning back to steady herself with her hands on the bed. Now she had even more control and raised and lowered herself over the entire length of my shaft. It was exquisite.

“Now it’s your turn to work,” she said before letting herself flop backwards onto the bed.

She lay on her back, legs splayed. I knelt before her. Moving between her legs, I slid my cock into her pussy. We fucked. Slow, fast, gentle, hard. I grabbed her breasts, one in each hand, the way rope would: close to her chest and encircling each as much as possible. They’re so wonderfully ample that I can’t get my hands anywhere near completely around them. I squeezed. Hard. I leaned down to give each nipple a brief suck and tug with my teeth. I shifted my grip to place a hand on the front of each breast and squeezed again. She moaned. I moved my hands away but she grabbed my wrists and placed my hands back where they were. “Ok,” I thought, “I can have fun with this.”

As I continued to fuck her, I squeezed and kneaded her breasts. I put weight on them & on her chest, crushing her into the bed. I grabbed them roughly, puling on them: not the nipples but rather a full handed grab. I used her tits as handles to pull her towards me as I pounded into her cunt. I could feel my orgasm slowly building, peaking slightly and falling off. Then peaking a bit higher, then higher until it washed over me with an intensity that I don’t recall feeling for a long time, if ever. I let out a primal, incoherent noise as I came, emptying into her. I really don’t remember ever having that intense and completely ecstatic of an orgasm before.

I continued my rutting as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through me and out my cock. Finally spent, I slipped wetly from her and collapsed on the bed.

We cuddled and talked. As we did, my hands wandered over her gently. She lay next to me on her stomach and my hands found their way to her ass. My fingers idly slipped between her ass cheeks which were slick with our mingled juices. I massaged her asshole with a fingertip, before moving further and slipping a finger into her cunt.

As I explored her with my finger she shifted to spread her legs for me, while half heartedly protesting that I should sleep. Too late for that. And I had had such a wonderful orgasm, I felt compelled to ensure that she was adequately rewarded.

I tossed back the sheets and she rolled onto her back, legs wide. I settled into my favorite place of all, and kissed her deeply. Licking her clit, I began fingering her: rubbing and probing her gspot. I could feel her pussy grabbing my finger and I added a second. Then a third and a fourth in quick succession. She was so aroused and relaxed that in no time I had my whole hand in her. My tongue on her clit made way for the Magic Wand.

I fucked her with my hand, pounding into her. Going slowly when she needed me to. Being brutal when she needed that. As is usually the case, my now hard (again) cock found its way into her ass and I started assfucking her while continuing to fistfuck her cunt.

Soon she came, arching and bucking. My cock left her ass but I continued fucking her with my hand until her eruption subsided and we both lay there, exhausted and satisfied.

True story.

[This has been featured on Fleshbot.  They seem to like the dirty, sexy stories.]

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

[Continued from "Sweet and Innocent 2."]

I haven’t heard from him since.  I’m not surprised at all.

I swear.  True story.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

I may be having a little too much fun on OkCupid, but sometimes I just can’t help but have some fun with the special ones.  I don’t seek them out, I only respond, so I feel somewhat justified.

That was the end of that conversation.  Thought it was done until I got another message from him.

[Don't worry, there's more from this guy.]

I swear.  True story.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

I know I’ve not been writing about the fucking lately.  That’s because for the most part (more to come on that), I’ve been fucking just one person.  I don’t think there’s anything wrong with fucking just one person, but I do think writing again and again about fucking the same person can be boring, and reading about the same sex again and again can be really boring.

Which is absolutely not so say the sex the Viking and I have is boring.  It’s anything but.  I’m the one with the problem: I lack imagination or the ability to write about something old in a new way.  Which isn’t to say the sex the Viking and I have is old.

Fuck, I’ll just refer you to @darkdracie‘s blog post of text messages from the Viking about our sex life.  Kind of convoluted, I know.

Have you read it yet?  Really, you’re that lazy?  It’s just a click.  Also, Gracie’s blog is sexy and fun.  Way sexier than this one has been lately, which is why I referred you.  I’m nice like that.

So now that you’ve read an account of my sex life – an account, by the way, the reading of which made me feel tingly in my bathing suit place – you know that I have some very fun and very dirty sex with the Viking.

Yes, reading it made me feel horny and I had actually done it.  Just in case you’re confused, the Viking fucked me the old fashioned way, then he went down on me with his come in my pussy, then he got most of his hand in my pussy while putting his dick in my ass, then I asked for the whole hand in my pussy, then I came from the dick in my ass/fist in my pussy/vibrator on my clit combo, then the Viking came in my ass.  I really do make the Viking work quite hard.  So far he’s not complaining.

I swear.  True story.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

[Continued from "Best.  Day.  Ever.  (Part 3)."]

The Viking and I were one of the first tables sat for dinner at A16.  On our previous trip to A16 we’d been sat similarly along the east wall, only this time it was closer to and within a better view of the open kitchen.  Ok, so I had the view of the kitchen; the Viking had a view of me (which he seemed to like).

Very soon after we were seated (“sat” to you British folk), our waiter told us of the specials: roasted peppers for appetizer, and lamb for entrée.  Yum, I wanted both.  The Viking isn’t too keen on lamb, it tending to have strong flavor.  I like gamey meat, but then I’ve been eating meat my whole life; the Viking was meat-free for almost 15 years.

But, as the Viking is wont to do, he indulged me.  We didn’t want to eat too much or have much in the way of leftovers since we were going to the Exploratorium after dinner so we ordered the roasted peppers, a pizza, and the lamb.  A16 is known for having a great wood-fired oven, so anything cooked in it was sure to be tasty.  We opted to share everything.

Very quickly after ordering our meal I realized our waiter was hot.  She was kind of dykey with her hair in a short, hip hairstyle, and she had the requisite tattoos.  And the tattoos I could see were cool:  What appeared to be geographic outlines of states or countries on her triceps – sexy.  Added to that, she provided great service – I love me someone who does his or her job well.

The chilies arrived.  They were delicious and beautiful.  [Pictures of all the food will eventually be posted on the Viking's food blog.]  It wasn’t until after they arrived that I realized I had had them before.  Padrón peppers are damn tasty.  They’re mostly not spicy but every once in a while there’s a nice hot one.  Yum.  We devoured the peppers, leaving behind piles of pepper stems on our plates.

Our waiter refilled my wine properly and our water glasses never emptied.  Our next course was a thin crust pizza.  Again, delicious and beautiful.  It was so good we really wanted to eat it all, but I’m trying to do this thing where I don’t get overstuffed and feel like shit.  And we had anther course coming.  We opted to take half the pizza home.  We didn’t think it’d suffer too much from lack of refrigeration while we were at the Exploratorium.  (It didn’t; it was damn tasty cold the next day.)

Our main course conveniently consisted of two pieces of lamb.  We ordered cannellini beans on the side.  Great choice – the lamb and the beans complimented each other nicely.  The Viking was pleasantly surprised with the flavor of the lamb, which was not at all gamey.  I’m determined to get him to really love lamb.  I imagine I will accomplish this goal when it gets cooler (wherever the fuck we are) when it will be appropriate to make my very tasty lamb chili.

A very classy move that made sure our waiter made it into my spank bank involved wine glasses.  I had been drinking sparkling wine by the glass and the Viking had a carafe of a nice light red.  I didn’t want another whole glass of wine, and the Viking didn’t seem to be tearing through his carafe so I had some of the red in my sparkling wine glass.  Our waiter saw this and very quietly without fanfare of any kind placed a red wine glass on my side of the table.  [The Viking just reminded me that our waiter was even smoother than I thought.  She not only gave me a red wine glass, she also poured the red wine in my white wine glass into the red wine glass, split the rest of the carafe between the two of us, and took my white wine glass away.  All of this was smooth and flawless.  He says I drank my first sip of red out of my white wine glass, and by the time I got to my second sip everything was in my new red wine glass.  How classy is that?]

We asked to have the lamb bones boxed up (for Isis), took them and our pizza, and walked to the Exploratorium.  We decided dessert would have been way too much food.  I felt just the right amount of full.

Because it was the Thursday before Labor Day, when Burning Man takes a large number of San Francisco residents to a desert in Nevada, the Exploratoium was gloriously sparsely populated.  Though it was our eighth Exploratorium AfterDark, and except for the time it was overrun with fucking children, we’ve stayed and explored for hours, we still found new exhibits to play with.

Then we looked at the stuff in the store.  There are some fun nerdy things, but I settled on a Periodic Table of the Elements t-shirt.  I’m hoping to learn through osmosis in my sleep.

By the time we left the Exploratorium, it had cooled down significantly.  Though the day was especially warm, the evenings in San Francisco almost never are; it’s the Pacific Ocean keeping our weather temperate.  We had taken the bus from the Mission to the Marina when it was warm.  I was wearing just a t-shirt and skirt with flip-flops, an outfit that anyone in San Francisco is rarely able to get away with.  I rarely leave the house without at least a sweatshirt over whatever shirt I’m wearing, and bare legs are a downright luxury.

Waiting for the 30 and then waiting for the 49 before walking home would have been a very cold and unpleasant affair.  We took a cab home.

Isis and Joaquin were happy to see us.  We (or I, or he) took Isis out and then we went to bed.  No fucking that night, as the multiple severe fistings had been quite enough, at least for me.  I’m sure the Viking would have gone for another round had I given him the opportunity.

It was a damn fine day.

I swear.  True story.

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

[Continued from "Best.  Day.  Ever.  (Part 2)."]

After a fun afternoon of pussy fucking and fisting, and ass fucking, the Viking and I made our way to the 49 Mission bus.  Then we took the 30 bus.  For San Francisco being so small – just 49 square miles – it can take a long-ass time to get around using public transportation.  It provides me plenty of time to listen to podcasts.  (Go ahead and take a look at all the ones I like.  Over there to the right under, duh, “Podcasts I Dig.”)

Despite the extensive time on the buses, we still arrived to the Marina earlier than we needed.  The Viking tends to be early rather than late, a very nice change from the Ex who would say, when he was already late, “I’ll be there right now.”  No, motherfucker, if you were here right now, you’d be here right now.

The Viking and I had time to kill so we stopped in some stores we’d seen on our other trips to the Marina on Exploratorium AfterDark nights.  Marina Meats was a meat market.  Both the Viking and I like meat.  Yum.  We just went in and wandered around looking at the various products.  The service was very good, if a bit confused by us “just looking.”  Generally, a meat market is not a place people browse.  When the Viking said we were killing time before dinner, the purveyor knew immediately where we had our reservations so maybe meat browsing isn’t all that uncommon.

I like meat markets.  It’s fun to see the various cuts laid out ready to be cooked and eaten.  When I lived in southern California in the early 1990s, I had a friend whose father was a meat cutter.  She made it clear he was not a butcher, he was a meat cutter.  The difference may be that he didn’t actually kill the animals.  Which would have mattered to her because she was a vegetarian.  Her sister was also a vegetarian.  Those rebellious kids, refusing to eat what put a roof over their heads.

What’s even funnier than a meat cutter with two vegetarian children is one of those kids – my friend – working at her father’s meat market.  She reeked of meat all the time, which probably didn’t make her want to eat the stuff.  She told me that customers asked her how to prepare certain cuts and she made stuff up.  That may be one of the reasons her father closed his market and worked for a fancy grocery store.

After the meat market, the Viking and I wandered into We Olive, a store that sells nothing but olives, olive oil, and various products in that vein.  Delightfully, there were plenty of samples.  There were olives stuffed with various kinds of chilies, with various kinds of cheeses, and other things that go with olives.  I thought the ones I had tasted pretty much the same.  There were also bread pieces that could be used to taste the olive oils and other olive-based spreads.  Because we were going to dinner, I suggested to the Viking that we get the fuck out of there before we got too full to truly appreciate our dinner.

Just a few doors down was the restaurant where we had reservations.  We had been to A16 before, on our first Exploratorium AfterDark excursion in February.  We both enjoyed the meal, which is why we wanted to repeat the experience at least once before we move.  Because we are moving … eventually.

The restaurant wasn’t yet ready for us to be seated in the dining room so we sat at the bar where we ordered glasses of wine.  I had a nice sparkling number and the Viking had a lovely light red.  The Viking doesn’t like white wines.  I like drinking white wines when it’s warm, which it was that day.

It was so warm I was able to wear a skirt and a t-shirt.  I did not wear tights or bring a sweater, sweatshirt, or wrap of any kind.  This is very unusual for San Francisco, even in the summer months.  The warmest months in San Francisco tend to be September and October.  It’s called Indian summer, a term which may or may not be culturally insensitive and/or offensive.

Soon we were sat at our table.

I swear.  True story.

[Still dinner and a "show" to come.]

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.

[Continued from "Best.  Day.  Ever.  (Part 1)."]

Upon arriving home, the Viking greeted me very nicely.  He seemed happy to see me.  I was happy to see him.  So we fucked.  We fucked a lot.  We fucked good and hard.

We fucked.  Apparently my pussy and ass had already been well-fucked thanks to Jules Verne’s toy collection.  He has a huge duffel bag full of toys of all sorts.  Sex toys, not action figures – at least as far as I know.  Said duffel bag has been carted around quite a bit – he says so he always has things available, I think so his nanny/maid doesn’t find ‘em.

I didn’t know at the time of taking this picture, but these two toys had been in me.  I tend not know what goes in me, only that it feels good.

However, when the Viking was fucking me I knew exactly what was going in me – his cock and his hand.  In my ass and pussy, respectively.  This particular sex act – or combination of sex acts – I find especially dirty and hot.  [It's true, right now just writing about it I feel that familiar and welcome tingling in my pussy.]

It’s very dirty and it’s very hot.  And it makes me come.  And scream.  And come and scream.  I can be as loud as I want during sex; I like that.

Then the Viking got dressed for dinner.  I put on pajamas/comfy clothes.  I was going to take out Isis at least one more time before we left for dinner.  Our plan was to go to dinner and then to Exploratorium AfterDark after we went to dinner, which was after we took a couple of buses to the Marina.

We thought our last Exploratorium AfterDark was in August.  Then some things happened.  Or didn’t happen.  Some bumps in the road.  We thought we would have been out of town by mid-August.  We weren’t .  We aren’t.

So the Viking was dressed, and I was going to take Isis out just before we needed to walk to Mission Street where we’d catch the 49 Mission, then the 30 to he Marina.

Only we were distracted.  The Viking grabbed and puled my pussy lips.  My labia majora.  He grabbed them and pulled them through my pants, which were what I call comfy pants.  I’ve heard them called soft pants.  The kind of pants that really shouldn’t be worn in public, but in which I have no problem taking the dog out to the bathroom.  Oh, and that one time I walked to the bank, but that’s not my usual habit.  Usually I wear real clothes when leaving the house.

It felt damn good, having my pussy lips grabbed and pulled.  We had plenty of time before we had to leave for dinner so the Viking suggested we go upstairs for another round.  Ok!

My favorite part of that particular bout of fucking was the way the Viking held my legs.  I was on my back with my legs spread (obviously) and up in the air.  The Viking positioned himself for easy access to my fun parts.  To keep my legs out of his way, so he could do the hard work of pounding my pussy with his fist, he used his free arm against the backs of my knees.  I was spread open for him with no way to get away.  Not that I wanted to get away.  No, no.  I wanted – and got the Viking’s hand fucking my pussy nice and hard.

More fucking.  More coming.  It was absolutely glorious.

I swear.  True story.

[More to come.  It wasn't evening yet.]

©2012 Random Rim Jobs. All Rights Reserved.