Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.The Day of Fuck (Cock No. 1)
Posted on April 16, 2010April 15 looms large in the minds of Americans because it’s the last day to file and pay taxes. I had e-filed and paid both federal and California state taxes the day before so April 15 itself was not a day of panic.
Instead it was a day of fuck. The day of fuck.
The day of fuck began, as all days truly do, at midnight. The ‘mate and I had received Liberator’s Wedge and Ramp and were using them for the first time. The cover of the Ramp already needs to be washed thanks to our April 15 activities. The Ramp was very helpful when the ‘Mate went down on me. I could lie back so my pussy and ass were on full display at the top of the ramp. My legs flipped back to get those pesky things out of the way. The ‘Mate went to town licking my ass and pussy.
Then, as is my wont, I wanted something in my pussy. Something big and heavy and hard: an NJoy Pure Wand a friend had so kindly loaned to me. The Viking (who is also the ‘Mate) was happy to accommodate me. He fucked my pussy with the Pure Wand. Then, because when I’m in a mood like that I want more, more, more, the ‘Mate was nice enough to put his cock in my pussy. Along with the Pure Wand.
At first he fucked me with his cock and continued to fuck me with the toy. Then, because the Pure Wand is a really great toy, he realized he could leave it in place without fear that it’d fall out or get in the way. This allowed him to concentrate on making his cock feel good in my pussy and up against the Pure Wand. His cock and the Wand were happily cohabitating in my pussy.
Yes, it felt fucking fantastic. The Wedge and the Ramp have found a place in the bedroom. They can’t fit in the drawer o’ sex, but they fit nicely next to the dresser in which the drawer o’ sex is located. And I’m gonna have to get me one of those Pure Wands. [That Amazon Wish List button does work, folks.]
[To be continued ….]
I swear. True story.
Dumped via Text
Posted on November 08, 2009I knew it was coming. I’m usually right about these things.
First, the number of face-to-face meetings diminished significantly. We used to see each other just because our paths happened to cross during the day. And we went on real dates out in public.
We kissed in the galleries of the second floor of the SF MoMA. That was probably way too romantic for something that was supposed to be casual. But I’m not completely convinced. We were into each other; it had been a while since we’d kissed; we were in the museum, in completely empty galleries; he reached up, cupped my face with both hands, and right there in front of a Jackson Pollack kissed me. Dammit, it was great.
The galleries were completely empty because most of the people who were at the museum on a Saturday morning (I think) were there to see Georgia O’Keeffe and Ansel Adams: Natural Affinities. We saw that exhibit, but not before walking through the galleries housing the museum’s permanent collection on rotation. I tried to show him my favorite painting, but it wasn’t up. But that didn’t matter because I was so giddy from that kiss.
Then we’d only see each other for sex. I’d spend the night because it was convenient, but then he couldn’t wait to get me out in the mornings, even on weekends. I got the hint and got the fuck out of there.
Then he told me that he really liked fucking me. We had great sex together. Great. His cock would hit me in just the right place when we were fucking missionary. It was hard to look into his eyes because he was so there.
He loved his ass licked. And I loved to get my face all wet from sucking on his ass. I loved that I could make him feel so good.
He really dug biting me. I dug it too. I’d come away from our time together with bite-sized bruises on the tops of my breasts and the fronts of my shoulders – where he could reach down to bite me when he was fucking me. He never broke the skin but he grabbed a jaw full of flesh in a way that made me swoon.
I gave him a paint stirrer to use on me. Paint stirrers make a great sound but don’t hurt that much when making contact with flesh. He spanked my ass with the stirrer. And he spanked my pussy. I especially liked that, but I still think slapping pussy looks stupid in porn.
He’d look so cute walking around in the mornings, naked. So little and cute. But with a nice big cock. It was nice and straight and smooth. I liked sucking it but never got it down my throat.
He’d fist me. Which would make me come so fucking hard. So hard that it scared me. He just accepted that that’s how I was when I came. And then I’d need to hide under the covers for a little while.
While we fucked he often told me that I looked good enjoying myself; that he liked that he could see I was enjoying myself. When he slapped me he said I looked both turned on and surprised. I knew he was going to slap me, but that he did it so hard, and that it felt so fucking good is what gave me a start.
After the visits dropped off, our only form of communication was text. We used to talk on the phone – I talked, he listened.
When he told me that the sex was really good, that our sex was really good, I knew that was a kiss-off of sorts. It sounded like he wanted to assure me that what he was about to do wasn’t because the sex was bad.
Then the canceled dates. All by text. Not feeling sexy, want to come watch tv as a consolation prize? No, I want to fuck.
Then he was sick. And I think I believe that he truly was sick. But being sick canceled another date, which gave him more time to think about things. When I contacted him a couple of times without response I knew that it was over, but I hoped he wouldn’t be the type to just ignore me.
He wasn’t. He responded that he was rethinking the casual sex thing. When we met he told me he’d never had casual sex before. I like being a guy’s first. At least he’ll remember me.
He’s young – 26. Twenty-six-year-olds keep breaking my heart.
He didn’t do anything wrong. But it would have been nice to see him again. And to have his cock hit that spot again. And to have him bite me and fist me and spank me and slap me.
I swear. True story.
My Next T-Shirt
Posted on October 19, 2009
I want this shirt so badly. I’d wear it with pride and probably get a few dates out of the deal.
Fuck!
Posted on September 19, 2009I just watched a lot of people fuck and suck and come. And now I’m gonna go to the Vegan’s house and get myself fisted and lick some ass.
I swear. True story.
Sexy?
Posted on August 13, 2009The answer to the title’s question is probably not. Hormones. Girly stuff.
I had been skipping my periods with manipulation of my birth control pills. It wasn’t until I finally had a period after three months that I noticed stupid things like my emotions. I swear the fact that I was having a period or that there were hormonal fluctuations had gone by unnoticed for years.
Then I found myself crying, or wanting to cry, for no reason. Or irrationally thinking everyone hated me. (Actually, I think I realistically know that a lot of people don’t like me.) Maybe I didn’t notice because my life had been going pretty well, so my lows weren’t all that low.
Maybe I’ve begun to notice because I have so much fucking time to just think. No one should spend this much time in her own head.
I do think I’m a little nicer to guys I’m fucking now that I know, sort of, that what’s going on in my mind/body isn’t them. Hell, it’s not even me. It’s THE HORMONES.
So now I warn the guys, if I can, that if I cry when I come that it’s not a big deal and that they don’t have to freak out, run away, or turn overly sympathetic. That it just is, and while they feel helpless I feel supremely embarrassed because I truly cannot help myself.
And then I get HORNY. I want to be fucked constantly. ALL the fucking time. In my pussy, up my ass, down my throat.
I need cock to shove its way down my throat. I need my hair pulled–hard, I need my neck bitten–hard, I need to have my breath controlled, I need to bury my face in balls and lick and taste and smell. I need to lick a nice metallic asshole, bury my face between a nice pair of ass cheeks. And of course I want. I want.
I swear. True story.
Random Rim Jobs
Posted on August 08, 2009Courtesy of Ryan’s Porn
I want to lick pussy so badly. I think he wanted to see me fucking, but she, not so much. Which is fine! I need. I want. I need to FUCK.
I so want to fuck a guy. I so want a cock to go down my throat and a fist in my pussy. FUCK ME. FUCK me. I want pussy.
No, No, Don’t Move Your Car, I’ll Take the Bus
Posted on July 27, 2009I like the ladies, but I am shy as fuck around them. They scare me, so I’m not so good at picking them up, taking ‘em back to my place, and fucking them silly like I do men.
But I like boobies, a lot. And burying my face and fingers in a wet pussy is oh-so-nice. Licking girl ass is divine …. I sometimes find myself searching Craig’s List w4w listings. The w4w Casual Encounters ads are often just ads, like these:
Jul 26 – I love to date younger guys near All Of San Francisco – w4m - (www.SEXNEARYOU.info ) pic
Jul 26 – Looking for a older guy to smash my tight holes – w4m - (www.SEXYLOCALGIRLS.info ) pic
Jul 26 – My man wont bone me!! Would You? – w4m - (www.LONELYWIFELOOKING.com) pic
Jul 26 – Schoolgirl looking for a QUICK Sexual fix before school! – w4m - (www.LONELYWIFELOOKING.com) pic
Jul 26 – Send me NASTY Pics and emails tonight! – w4m - (www.OLDERFORYOUNGER.info) pic
Jul 26 – Hi Girls! – w4w – 26 - (downtown / civic / van ness) pic
Jul 26 – Lonely and looking – w4m - (www.LOCALNSA.info ) pic
Jul 26 – Here is to NSA fun! – w4m - (www.SWINGERSLOOKING.com ) pic
Jul 26 – Im having a hardtime looking for fun guy to play! – w4m - (www.MOMWANNAFUCK.com) pic
Jul 26 – **Looking for a fun playmate** – w4w – 28 - (San Francisco)
Jul 26 – I like it really big! – w4m - (www.OLDERFORYOUNGER.info)
Jul 26 – Gag me – w4m - (www.CHICKSLOOKING.info ) pic
Jul 26 – MY BOYFRIEND LEFT ME FOR ANOTHER BITCH! – w4m - (www.SEXYLOCALGIRLS.info ) pic
Jul 26 – **Wondering how we look on camera! Would you film us? Females only!** – w4w – 29 - (San Francisco)
Some of the above might be “real” but chances are none of them is. I’ve learned to read Craig’s List ads pretty well and can figure out for the most part which ones are backed by actual humans who want to meet sans compensation.
Other than the “danger” that the w4w listings are advertisements, the other issue is that the ads are often posted by women who are only posting at their boyfriends’ behest and should really be listing in mw4w because they’re looking for threesomes. I dig threesomes, but I look on the appropriate section of Craig’s List when that is what I’m seeking. When I look in w4w, I want some one-on-one sex with a woman only.
I responded to an ad that was clearly from an actual woman who wanted actual pussy. We agreed to meet at the 500 Club on a Sunday afternoon. As per usual I was running late. She was there when I arrived. She was cute–a bit taller than me, thin, with a curly bobbed haircut and cute little boobies, my favorite kind. We talked over drinks.
She told me she had a boyfriend but that her goal “this time” was to find someone for her. She told me she and her boyfriend, “Timothy” had had a few threesomes, mostly with women he had met and with whom he had facilitated the encounters. She said there had been quite a bit of fun, but that she was looking for more than just one night of sex. She said she wanted ongoing friendships with women with whom she and Timothy had fun.
Of course this was a completely different angle than she had expressed either in her Craig’s List ad or her emails in the exchanges we’d had when setting up the meeting at the bar. I’m an easy-going gal, so I went along with it.
We had another couple of drinks and then decided to keep in touch. Soon thereafter we agreed that we would meet again. This time I went to their neighborhood, which was only fair since she had met me in mine on our initial meeting. She wanted me to meet Timothy and then for us to figure out how things would go from there. We had accomplished meeting and drinking without fucking the first time we met, so I definitely believed it was a possibility for our second meeting.
I took the bus out to the Inner Richmond. Well, rather, I took two buses to the bar where we had agreed to meet. I met her and Timothy. Timothy was a bit socially awkward, or at least that’s how it seemed because he didn’t have much to say. I can fill in the gaps of five different conversations simultaneously with my witty banter/inane chatter so all was well as long as they continued to buy me drinks.
Timothy wore glasses, which was not a big deal in itself, but I could tell he was wearing glasses (as opposed to contacts) because he had a severely wonky eye. Severely.
I am not an eye person–it’s not unusual for me to know someone’s eye color based only on an educated guess: brown people have brown eyes, light people have light eyes. I’ve never been offended when someone I know doesn’t know my eye color; the usual guess is blue. [My eyes are green, the rarest eye color (at least that's the bullshit I've been espousing for years).] So for me to notice that Timothy’s eyes were quite fucked up behind his glasses must have meant they were really fucked up behind his glasses. His right eye appeared to be little more than a watery, red slit with something milky behind it; his left eye was apparently the better of the two because he didn’t run into anything.
So we hung out at the bar and had a few more drinks. By the time I went to the bathroom I knew their intention was to bring me back to their place, which was right around the corner. [Their place, incidentally, was on the same block as the party where I had re-met Sheldon.]
We walked to their apartment, where they showed me the very 1970s decor (not of their choosing) and served me more drinks. Eventually she and I were making out on their couch. I pointed out between kisses that I had the same shirt I was taking off of her.
Timothy was not in the room and I wanted to make sure that what we were doing, without him there, was acceptable under the “rules” of their relationship. She assured me that everything was good to go. We made out. I licked her pussy and felt her grinding her clit into my mouth. It had been a while since I’d tasted pussy and I reconfirmed that I fucking love it.
Eventually the three of us went to the bedroom where the highlight (as far as I’m concerned) was me licking Timothy’s ass whilst he was fucking her. I really don’t like spending the night away from home, and especially when I’ve not made arrangements for Isis, but due to alcohol consumption and vigorous activity I fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound and feel of two people fucking next to me on the bed. In my sleepiness I think I reached over to “help” in some way. I fell back asleep. I woke up with only one other body in the bed. I figured Timothy had gone to work after the morning fuck and she was sleeping next to me. I lolled a bit, my brain slowly putting things together.
By the intensity of the light coming into the room I knew it was not all that early and I knew I had to get up and get the fuck out of there to let Isis out. I was fully nude, which is not my preferred sleeping attire, so I went in search of my clothes. I noticed the body in the bed next to me was not hers, but Timothy’s, and he had on a sleep mask (which was a blessing–what if that one eye didn’t close all the way?). I heard the sounds of television coming from the living room so I made my way there. When I appeared in the entry to the living room she gasped. I neither knew nor cared if the gasp was positive or negative.
She was sitting on the couch watching tv. I gathered my clothes and got dressed. I told her I needed to get home to my dog. She got a pained look on her face and said something along the lines of having difficulty finding a parking space. Huh? I said she could just drop me off. She explained that on a Saturday she’d have trouble finding a space near her place after she dropped me off, and that it was better to keep the space the car was in at the time.
Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to put you out after I licked your boyfriend’s asshole (which I’m sure, based on his reaction, was not a regular event in their bedroom) after you claimed you were looking for someone just for you. I had no cash so I had to ask her for some money so I could take the bus. She didn’t even offer to pay for a cab for me. Or if she did, she sure as shit didn’t insist because I would have definitely preferred taking a cab to squinting in the bright sun at first one, and then a second bus stop. I always wear sunglasses and sunscreen when the sun’s up, but had left my house after dark the night before so had on neither. Thankfully I had my iPod with me so I didn’t have to listen to the stupid conversations that are inevitable on buses.
When I got home I took Isis out right away, though she was not clamoring to go out. I know she loves me but sometimes she doesn’t seem to notice if I’m even home.
I sent the usual had-a-great-sexy-time email, to which I got no response. Then, a few weeks later I did something that made my little Inner Richmond girlfriend some money, but I didn’t receive a thank you. I finally emailed her telling her it was my doing that got her paid and she did thank me, but I’ve not heard from her since. I have no idea why, and I certainly don’t care, but if she really did want an ongoing friendship with me treating me like shit certainly isn’t the way to my heart.
I swear. True story.
