Random Rim Jobs

What I like about my particular lover who, ah, drinks tea, is that we’ve known each other for years and he lives not far; he’s always around, and he’s a great cook. His lovers put up drywall and tend to the yard, and he cooks.

I’m often just over at his place talking about some programming language or math or something and having a bit to eat. Or, I’m walking into the kitchen to see what he’s stirring, he turns a hug into his tongue down my throat, his hands on my ass, and my feet off the ground (he’s stronger than I). This takes me by surprise, but I can get his shirt off very quickly and push him against the counter when I have that kind of cue. Last time he did this he simply took my hand and led me upstairs where he proceeded to fuck me until I couldn’t see any more. He has a gorgeous cock and comes in a flash if I suck on his nipples, but he won’t let me – he holds that off, delays me until he gets me off…we battle over our agenda of getting the other to come first.

It’s rather cute. He’s from the south. Can turn on a great accent.

[This lovely bit was from a guest writer who sought me out, but not to be a guest writer here.  Nonetheless, this tidbit got me wet and I had to ask his permission to please let me share with y'all.  I wouldn't mind watching, not at all.]

[Continued from "I'm Merely a Tool Here for Your Pleasure, Part 1."]

With his hand guiding me I eventually got all of my fingers into her pussy.  Then the tough part, the base of my thumb, went in.  Pussies feel so fucking wonderful enveloping my hand.  We gave her time to get used to my hand, then he grabbed my wrist and we fist fucked her pussy, hard.  She was screaming.  He and I were grunting with our effort, because though it was my hand in her cunt she was being fucked with the force of both him and me.

I was amazed that she could take such a pounding.  But she was taking it.  And it looked fucking hot.  My right hand was fucking her while I supported myself on my left elbow so I could have a view of my hand going into, and out of, and into, and out of her pussy.

She was still screaming.  We were still pounding.  And then she squirted.  A lot.  All over my face.  It was fucking great.

We were all exhausted.  He let her out of her bondage and she sat at the head of the bed below an open window and smoked a cigarette.  He went to his desk.  I sat at the foot of the bed.  We chatted.  At least he and I chatted; she smoked her cigarette.

Then it was time for round two.  Cool.  She was no longer bound to the bed so there were even more ways for the three of us to become entangled – without his cock going into my pussy, of course.  I licked his ass while he fucked her.  I licked her pussy while he fingered me.  I sucked his cock while she sat on his face.  It was all fun.

I had the most fun, however, when he was fucking her.  She was on her hands and knees.  He was on his knees pounding her from behind.  My head was below them.  I licked her clit while his cock was sliding in and out of her cunt.  While I was down there I also licked the shaft of his cock.  I sucked on his balls, because that’s just fun.  My mouth was all over their parts while he fucked her.  Then he came – on my face.

Yes!  I love come on my face and that night I got both girl come and boy come all over it.  I was a very happy girl.  I left in a sex daze.  I walked home as the sun was coming up.

A few weeks later they again requested my presence.  On the second visit I fell off the bed.  Theirs was the highest bed I’ve ever encountered.  It came up to my waist when I stood next to it.  I had to make a running start to get on it.  So falling off the bed was rather a big deal.  Luckily, there was a wall for me to hit before my body impacted the floor.  I came away with multiple bruises.

He showed me how to find a man’s prostate.  Well, he didn’t really show me so much as let me know by moaning when I located his.  That was fun, but overall the second visit wasn’t nearly as hot as the first.  I think they requested my presence a few more times but I was never available and I’ve not seen them since.

A friend, however, has seen them.  Based on my description of the couple (which I’ve not included here), my friend picked them out at a local sex club.  San Francisco is such a small city.

On neither one of the visits did she ever say a word to me.

I swear.  True story.

Back when I used Craig’s List, I used it a lot.  I both placed ads and responded to ads.  One to which I responded was placed by a couple who wanted a lady to participate in threesomes with them.  Actually, I responded to several such ads.  This couple, however, I actually fucked.

The guy and I exchanged emails.  He told me they were a professional couple.  They all say they’re a “professional” couple.  Frankly, I don’t give a shit what the people I fuck do for a living, but in the Online casual sex world “professional” seems to mean “not creepy.”  Or at least that’s what it’s supposed to mean.

I don’t know if this couple was creepy per se, but I certainly didn’t see them do anything professional.  In the emails I exchanged with the guy he said their only rule was that his penis could not go into my vagina.  Other things could go into my vagina, and all sorts of things could go into my mouth, but him fucking me was off-limits.  I don’t recall us discussing anal sex at all prior to our first meeting.

Our first meeting wasn’t planned.  I was home alone late one night when I received an email from the guy.  He requested my presence that night.  They lived relatively close and he assured me that my cab fare would be covered.  Usually it’s best to meet in public first to see if there’s chemistry, but I’d gotten a decent vibe from the guy via email and, well, I was horny and up for an adventure.

I got dressed and called a cab.  I was a tad worried when I arrived at the address he had given me, since it was definitely not a house or apartment building.  But there was a man waiting out front, and he paid the cabbie, so I assumed he was the guy.  He was tall and blond with some facial hair.

He let me in their place, which had been converted from a less residential use.  It was dimly lit but I could tell the place had some serious square footage.  While San Francisco isn’t quite like Manhattan, real estate is definitely pricey, so a big place is unusual.

We walked to the back of the building where there was a living room area set up.  I sat on the couch, which was facing a rather large television, which was not on, and a curtain.  While I still sat on the couch he went through the curtain.  I heard that he was talking, but not what he was saying.  I figured he was talking to her, but wasn’t at all sure.

Eventually, he bid me behind the curtain.  Beyond the curtain was a “bedroom.”  The bedroom had a large office area with a very large, multi-winged desk.  He and I sat at the desk while he said all the things we’d do to her.  I heard not a peep from her, and began to wonder if “she” existed.  But then I peeked over and sure enough, there was a woman bound spread-eagle to the bed.

We made our way over to the bed.  He kept up a constant chatter about what was going on.  After all, she couldn’t see so he had to keep her updated.

He directed me to do various things to her.  I was fine; I follow direction well and I was having fun.  I licked her pussy.  I fingered her pussy.  I sucked his cock.  I watched him fuck her.  I do so like watching couples fuck.

The whole time she made clear she was enjoying herself.  She didn’t talk, but she did moan.  He interpreted.  He assured me that she liked what was going on.  I, too, liked what was happening.  We continued with our ministrations, focusing mostly on her pussy, as there it was open for us.

I did whatever he told me.  I licked.  I sucked.  I fingered.  Then he grabbed my wrist.  He whispered in my ear that he wanted to fist her but that his hands were too big.  He said my hands were just the right size.

I swear.  True story.

[To be continued, of course.]

This lovely photo, taken by Heidi Schumann, was featured in a New York Times article about OkCupid.  Aren’t all my plants pretty?  Isn’t my place cool?  Yes, it is.  So cool that various things have been filmed here.  So cool that it’s available for other things to be filmed here.  Contact me if you need a kick-ass location to film your commercials, documentaries, features of the mainstream or adult nature, shorts, etc.

I’m glad I don’t look too fat in this photo.  Thanks, Heidi.

I swear.  True story.

One of the great things about being my age is that I know myself pretty well. Also, I know that some things many think are important really are not.  Like putting up with people who don’t contribute positively to my life.  Because I know now what that means.

It means if someone hurts me more than s/he helps me s/he’s probably not worth my time or my energy.  No, I do not keep scorecards on my friends, but I do know that it’s not worth the heartache and turmoil to be around people who make me feel like shit – about myself or them.  I will never seriously say, “My douche bag boyfriend …” because I will not have someone I call a friend – boy- or otherwise – treat me in such a way that I want to call him a douche bag.

Not so Tammy, a very cute, very sweet, very naive, and very young lady I recently met.  Ruby asked me to join her for some drinks at Latin American Club.  She was there with a friend who had clearly started drinking much earlier, though she was not drinking the Latin American Club’s infamous margaritas.  And neither was I, since I didn’t even know about their infamous margaritas.  The next time I go I will definitely get a margarita or two.

Ruby’s friend suggested I meet a guy with whom she’d hook me up.  Ok, what’s his number?  She said I could only have his number if I was “ready to settle down.”  Uh, no, I am most definitely not ready to settle down, I’d like to fuck, please.  She said she couldn’t let him get his heart broken like that so I’d not get his number.  I told her that just because someone doesn’t want to settle down does not mean that hearts will be broken so long as everyone is honest with each other.

She was not listening.  She had had quite a bit to drink.  And she had gone on to how great her boyfriend was.  Yes, I agreed when she showed me a photo on her phone, he was very cute.  Yes, they did make a nice couple.  Frankly, I didn’t give a fuck about her boyfriend, and talking about how great his cock was was getting a little old.

Then we all met Tammy.  Tammy was at Latin American Club while her boyfriend was across the street at at a class at the Mission Campus of San Francisco City College.  Tammy was waiting for him because he asked her to do so.  At one point Tammy left, and we assumed she and the boyfriend had met up and made their way home.

However, Tammy returned.  She told us that her “douche bag boyfriend,” though he had asked her to wait for him, “forgot” that she was waiting and left without her.  Wow, what consideration.  Tammy told us more.  She had recently turned 21.  She and the boyfriend had been together for three years.  She had moved directly from her parents’ home in with him.  She was trying to move out on her own.

Oh, Tammy.  Of course I went into I’ve-been-through-it-and-trust-me-you’ll-look-back-and-realize-it-wasn’t-worth-it mode.  She claimed she was trying to get free of the boyfriend and wanted to be more independent.  I told her that she didn’t deserve to be disregarded by someone who claimed to love her.  I said a bunch of other stuff too, and Tammy claimed to understand, but I don’t hold out much hope for Tammy.

I left soon thereafter, as I preferred to spend my time with someone I’ve no interest in calling a douche bag rather than waste my breath on a sad girl who may or may not eventually learn that she doesn’t have to be miserable.

I swear.  True story.

[Continued from "Slave Auditions, Part 2."]

The next potential slave to arrive was young and sweet.  And had an incredible head of hair.  He was very young – just 19 years old.  Sugar claimed she liked older men almost exclusively but she was definitely taken by his apparent innocence.

And it may have been only apparent.  He told us he had been to Power Exchange several times.  Wow, and at such a tender age.  I suppose people are figuring out much younger what they’re into and how to make it happen.  Back when I was 17 I knew I was interested in being tied up and spanked but other than the Society of Janus, which I could not join since I was not yet of age, I had no way of connecting with similarly inclined people.  By the time I was 18 I lost interest in the idea of socializing with the intent to find someone to spank me, and I’m still not too keen on the whole munch thing.

We dubbed our young potential slave Nineteen.  Our nicknames certainly didn’t have to be creative or original, only easy for us to remember.  Nineteen cleaned pretty well and and followed directions well.  By this time Sugar and I had had plenty of mimosas and wine and were certainly embracing the spirit of the day.

We had Nineteen show us his penis.  He was uncircumcised, just the way I like ‘em.  But we didn’t do anything with his dick other than look at it.

Soon thereafter Glasses arrived.  We dubbed him Glasses because he wore very thick ones.  He was very quiet and mousy and out of everyone the best cleaner.  He also took very well to direction.  Sugar and I were well into mistress mode when he arrived.  We had no problem telling him what to do and we had him clean sans pants.

When Glasses was here my neighbor Ruby stopped by to help us assess.  It was a raucous good time.  Ruby didn’t stay long, and we soon dismissed Glasses.

Then Sugar, the Viking, and I went upstairs where the Viking was nice enough to tie up Sugar’s lovely breasts.  She looked quite nice.  The three of us were having a very nice naked time complete with hemp rope when the phone rang.

Ooops!  We forgot we had more potential slaves scheduled.  I threw on my clothes and answered the door while Sugar and the Viking got dressed themselves.

I opened the front door to a vision of loveliness.  Her makeup was perfect.  She wore a bustier with shorty shorts and fishnets.  She carried a large purse.  She was demure, as is appropriate for a lady come to clean.

She started cleaning right away.  She was adorable.  She had a foreign accent and told us she was from Austria.  She was so sweet and cute.  Sugar dubbed her Cutey.  We loved Cutey immediately.  She was very obedient.  She was fun!

I called Ruby and told her to come back, that she would absolutely love our latest potential slave.  Ruby is a drag queen at heart – she barely needs an excuse to get dressed up, and she makes it a point to go to costumed events – she is very theatrical.  I knew she would love Cutey.  In addition, Ruby speaks German, and I thought it’d be fun to listen to Ruby and Cutey talk to each other in Cutey’s native tongue.

The whole time Cutey was cleaning she was also like our girlfriend; it’d be a blast to go to dance clubs with her.  She knew how to put herself together.  She had a great ass.  She was most definitely a girl.

Only of course she was not a biological girl, so when the Viking – who identifies as a straight man – whispered to Ruby that he was conflicted Ruby couldn’t help but chuckle.  Ahh, San Francisco, how we love you for making us question our ideas of gender and sex and sexuality.

Cutey stayed longer than her allotted half hour because the next potential slave flaked.  We were glad since we were having so much fun with her.  We let her have some wine with us and had her sit down and chit-chat; the service portion of the interview was over.  She pulled out her purse, in which she brought some things that she thought might be of use for the tryout.  She had rope – fun! – and she had various anal toys – also fun – and she had a CB-3000.

I would not have known what a CB-3000 was if I hadn’t seen a video of Eve Minax (whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and …) on Carnal Nation discussing male chastity devices.  [The video seems to have disappeared from Carnal Nation, but if you can find it, please let me know the link – shazamsf@sbcglobal.net.]  They are fascinating.

Cutey showed us how the CB-3000 worked, but not on her penis.  She wasn’t yet comfortable showing that side of herself.  However, by the time I walked her to the door she certainly didn’t seem to mind when I copped a feel.  We made out a bit and I rubbed up against her cock, which was not very girlie.

Out of fourteen scheduled potential slaves only five showed up.  That means I won the bet I had with the Viking.  The wager?  I got to gloat.  We hadn’t bet anything of substance because we both knew there were few things I would want that he wouldn’t already have done for me if I asked.  But I won.  Ha!

I swear.  True story.

[True story that is not yet done.  The next week we continued our slave auditions.]

Sugar and I were talking about how much her mother and my step-mother were clean freaks.  Because we grew up in such environments we know what clean is but we certainly don’t want to do it ourselves.  As well, we had been talking about how sad and pathetic tiny dicks are.  We decided it would be fun to have permission to not only make fun of a guy’s tiny dick, but also to make him clean while we humiliated him.  We placed an ad on Craig’s List under Casual Encounters ww4m.  Before the ad was flagged and removed – despite the fact that it violated none of the terms of use – we received dozens of responses.

As per usual with Craig’s List, there were some responses that simply wanted sex, such as this one:

I don’t know about my cleaning skills ….but I will gladly come over and fuck both you silly right now on this rainy Sunday.

Or this one, from, I kid you not, dear readers, Elvis Presley:

i want a 3some

Elvis was nice enough to include a couple of photos so we could determine if we wanted to engage in said threesome.  The photo with the bottle looks like he wants a threesome that includes cock.  We didn’t bother responding to Elvis, but apparently he’s not only still alive but still randy.

There were several who didn’t know what the fuck a house slave was, such as this one titled “I will be your slave!!!!!”:

Hey there!!
I noticed your posting and was wondering if you want to play??
I am totally down for anything you can handle, I might be kinkier than youre ready for hahah jk   Here is a nice idea: I would love to bend you over and fuck you really proper soo hard and deep while I play with your pussy, and grab your tits and hair, then turn you around slap my thick cock in your mouth and face fuck you soo good and make you deepthroat my cock until your eyes water and you gag on it, then I will pull it out of your mouth and slap it between your tits and fuck them till I cum all over your Face and Tits!!!! Can we play now??

After I accused him of not knowing how to read he assured me that he was a sub and would happily serve us.  Too late.

Then there’s this guy who along with giving himself a lame nickname and spelling poorly referred to himself in the third person:

Shazam!!!  Oh master, Balldor is so excited!  Balldor will not dissapoint you.  I’ll be eagerly waitng for further instruction.  Thank you so much for this opportunity to please you.  I can’t wait to meet my new  masters!

He was actually a pretty good-looking guy, but one of his photos inexplicably showed him with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, looking a little Downsy.

We had quite a few responses that told us to call them.  Uh, we don’t take orders, we give them.

This one is just plain goofy:

Hey ladies and hey babies !
What’s cooking?
I’m down to earth person

Wow….that is a very interesting proposition…but VERY scary!!  Lol  I never knew there are women out there like that.  I mean I do like cleaning but damn……You ladies make it scary.  hahahah.

P.S Though you are very pretty.. 

We had many serious responses as well.  So many that Sugar suggested we conduct interviews.  What an excellent idea.

When coordinating schedules to accommodate everyone’s needs things can be put off, sometimes forever.  However, when dealing with people who want to be told what to do, the best thing is to simply tell them what to do.  I emailed a number of the serious respondents and told them to submit to an interview/tryout on the following Saturday.  Those who responded to the call to service were given my address and a time to arrive.

I scheduled each potential slave for a half-hour session.  Fourteen interviews/tryouts were scheduled on the hour and half from 1:30pm until 8pm.

I swear.  True story.

[True story that will, of course, continue.  Details of slave tryouts to come.]