Thursday, May 31, 2007

Late night porn

Patience is a virtue, darlings. As I've spent almost all my life learning and am still.

My vacation synaposis: resort, sun, burned, fun, margaritas, me doing tequila, him not able, swimming, reading, sleeping, fucking [which was good], aloe vera, driving two days to see 3 ruins, me climbing the tallest, him stopping mid-way, he drove, I navigated, little towns, using my Spanish rocked, they all thought we were married and I gave up contradicting, back to the resort, sleeping, reading, sun, margaritas, my first pina colada, swimming, sunning. A week was enough. There will be pictures uploaded soon. They will be London, Paris, and Mexico.

But for now, I'm still scoping the horizon. My hopes are always too high and James laughs with me, not at me. A colleague within the circle and I have exchanged very naughty, dirty emails but his naughty is my been-there-done-that [anal, woman cumming, ripping clothes off, semi-public sex, dirty talk -- um, how is this kinky? Or, have I become so depraved that even exotic is boring to me now?]. A man online who likes Lolita as much - if not more than I do but who writes in too fancy, journalistic prose for me to take seriously -- or wonder if he's more about passion and less about fucking. Sigh. My aim is the hope of Paris. For now, I'll get butterflies saying naughty things, crossing lines, refusing to be a teacher and maybe even being a bit cold-hearted.

But all that aside, my colleague-type-person we'll call him Phillip. He requested a story.

I would warn you but you should all know by now. Read it at work only if you can drop your pants and rub off there and then. Or, run to the bathroom for some privacy. Or, if you can bend your co-worker over her desk and shove it in her unexpecting cunnie.

IE, nsfw

Again, I take liberties where I like and prefer to call it creative non-fiction. Hopefully, I will never be sued.

Him: Along those lines, how about you tell me what you think would happen if a couple professionals are working late in the office and one thing leads to another and ends up with some rough sex, dirty talk, anal, etc.

Me: God, this is really a fiction story for me. Usually the stories I write when given a theme have some kind of personal angle. I write creative non-fiction a lot better than fiction. But this theme.. Well, this job has been my first "real" professional job and frankly, I'm just not into all the women around me that much. I had such high hopes about having more men on staff....

When I think about this kind of situation, I think of 2 people with already established interest, a lot of sexual tension, and the multitudes of fantasies they'd both have running through their minds if left alone late at night.

It reminds me of the first realization that I liked it rough and I liked it bad. I had dropped out of college after my freshman year and was living in a shared house with 5 other roommates. One of them, was a tattood drummer in a local band. He was dating this big blonde punk girl and when I'd been in his bedroom I'd noticed cuffs and eyelets on his 4-poster wooden bed. He did a lot of speed and smoked a lot of pot. I'd always always had a huge crush on him but he was either dating some girl or we unconsciously had this underlying "don't date roommates" feeling.

After a while he moved out and started living with the big blonde punk girl. He'd come over once in a while to practice drums in our basement. One day I just happened to be home. No one else was home but with 4 other roommates there was always a possibility someone would come back from work. I was upstairs in my room, totally horny, hearing him bang bang bang on the drums. It was driving me crazy horny. I made the excuse to go downstairs to the basement to start my laundry. He didn't stop drumming. I went back upstairs to my room and laid there thinking god, what can I do to get him to touch me? Of course, I wasn't interested in making the first move and being blamed for his cheating on his girlfriend. Of course, I didn't want him to cheat. Of course, I didn't want to want him but I couldn't do anything about that either.

Sometimes when I'm at that very excited stage in my lunar cycle, I'm completely inconsolable and slightly obsessed with sex and getting off. And there was nothing I could do at this point to stop obsessing about wanting to have him fuck me, about wanting him to stop playing those drums and put his sweaty cock up inside me. I didn't really know about masturbation at this point in my life but knew I loved fucking and wanted him to fuck me. Now. Now. Now. What was I going to do though? How would I ensure the least amount of rejection if he didn't - or couldn't - want me back? I needed a cover-up. A way to make it unavoidable for him to want me and give us both a way out if he absolutely couldn't do it.

I just couldn't take it anymore though. Every idea I had seemed childish and stupid and I was running out of time. He'd have to leave soon or our roommates would get home soon. Fuck. I have to do something. On the count of one-two-... three...

I headed down the stairs to the basement. I knew he could hear my stomps because the floors were old wood. His drumming kind of slowed. I got to the second to the last set of stairs and hollared, "Joe!... Joe!...." I could hear him get up and start for the stairs.. "What? What's wrong?" I came down the last set of stairs and we met in the narrow stairway. "You've. Got. to stop drumming." He looked puzzled. "I...I just can't take it any longer." I came down the last steps and leaned toward him. "You're turning me on too much."

He grabbed my waist and pulled me in and we started kissing. He spun me around and started pushing me backwards. His hand went up my shirt, pulled my bra down under my tit, and started pinching my nipple.. hard pinches, too. I was startled by the pain but his mouth muffled my surprise. He pushed me into the wall - hard, grabbed my wrists together in one hand and moved them above my head. His other hand pushed my skirt up and shoved into my panties.

At some point he moved us over to the workbench table - freakishly perfect height and he put me up there, spread my legs and shoved his cock into me. I gripped the table edges and tried not to cry out in case someone came home.


I like it when Andy visits cuz he knows how I am. He knows the deep nasty and the pretty flower. We're on the meter so there isn't a lot of talk until after and even then it's only about 20 minutes tops. He'll come in and sometimes I've had the time to shower and get dolled up - maybe a schoolgirl uniform, maybe a shiny black slip and fishnets, maybe the easily slip-on slip-off tank top so he can find that joy of springing my tits over the neckline - I think from his viewpoint they make nice somewhat pushed together and erect.

Usually I'm giddy. And, always nervous. We'll say our hellos and somehow a magnetic force makes us kiss, deep and slow, light and licking. Someone's hands go somewhere but he'll press me up against the wall and usually I'll ask with my motions if I can suck his cock.

I like unbuckling his belt and I like how his hands hold up his shirt a little bit to help me. As soon as the pants open I like to reach my hand in and pull out his cock, careful not to catch it on anything. One time he was rushed coming over and had no underwear on which was an even nicer surprise.

I'll slide his pants down while his hands will find a spot of my skin to touch, to try to fondle from that angle. Get on my knees on the floor and gently lick his cock, wetting it for the longer sucks I'll employ next.

He knows I'm practicing and he's a good homework - pressing his cock deeper down my mouth and throat while pulling the back of my head towards him, holding me down on his cock. He'll release when my hands gently push him away and I start gagging. But the sound, he says, is amazing. I wonder if he can feel my mouth tighten around him. He is the one who showed me how to lay on the bed on my back with my head hanging off the edge so he could get a better, longer angle into my throat. I have told him I'd like to be Deep Throat.

But it is Sir Max who helped train me in this. Blindfolded, naked, sitting back on my heels in the middle of his piano room atop the rug. "Lean forward onto your elbows." "Yes, Sir." "Here is the dildo. And, here is the dish of olive oil. It's gentle oil, not too strong. Dip the dildo into it. Place the base of the dildo onto the floor. Now, slowly, place it into your mouth." The oil cuts down on the rubber taste and gives a natural lube, especially as my mouth is dry in nervousness. "Slowly slide the tip of the dildo along the roof of your mouth. Slide it all the way to the back. Keep doing that until your mouth and throat are comfortable enough to let it pass your uvula. This practice will stop that god-awful gagging noise I so don't appreciate." After a long time of trying - I couldn't see time for the blindfold - I was able to feel a slight pop as the dildo passed it without gagging. I am still trying to replicate that on a real cock. Andy has kindly offered to help.

Alas, the clock keeps ticking and while Andy would like me to spend all my time sucking his cock, there are other games we'd like to play, like, let's make her blush with embarrassment. Andy likes to guide me to a standing position, bent over with my hands on my low bed and his hands opening my ass cheeks. He likes to look, which makes me squirm and blush and want to pull away. Then, he likes to stick his tongue in and flick around to make me bite my lip in shame.

Sir Max blindfolded me once and made my belly full. I thought he'd put an inflatible dildo into my ass but instead he led me shuffling up the stairs to the bathroom, sat me down and said, "Expel." Huh? "When you're done, call me and I'll help clean you." My first enema and I couldn't even feel the total humiliation I had hoped for. Although, the slow stream and seeping out my bummie was humiliating enough. Not wanting him to help me clean was worse. And getting round two was even more horrible. He told me to kneel and put my hands on the floor in front me. I had no idea my hands would go into the shower stall adjacent to the toilet. "Bow down on your elbows, raise your ass." The tip eased into my pucker and another stream of liquid flowed up inside me. This time I could feel my belly swell. [Just like the girl in "The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women" by Tristan Taromino] Then, accidentally, it came slightly spraying out the sides when I was full. I was thoroughly humiliated. "Stay there for a minute. Call me when it starts to feel uncomfortable." I wasn't sure what "uncomfortable" meant so I just waited and he had to pull me up off the floor and set me on the toilet. "Make sure to pass it all out. Be a good girl. You're our lamb this evening. And our sacrifical lamb must be clean." Of course, he wasn't going to do me harm, this was all to get my mind into the game. And it worked. I waited until every last drop was out. I was a good girl.

Andy and I don't have time for elaborate cleansing rituals. Plus, we're too hot for each other to be that patient. His tongue, lord have mercy.. I do try to clean as best as I can. And I hate to think of the strong scent down there but I love that he licks and forces his tongue into my ass until I forget that it's dirty and nasty and wrong and start pushing back, reaching around to pull my cheeks open further, pushing back and moaning.

When I was the lamb I was tied up and flogged. Once, I had horribly mean clothespins attached to my tender, pert tits. Once, I was hung from my wrists with my only toesies touching reality and beaten on the inside of my legs while they were pulled apart by a spreader bar at my ankles. And, many lovely times I was on a cross with a flogger across my back and ass - working out all the kinks in my muscles and sending me flying out to sparkle palace where the waves roll gently and every sting is a kiss.

Andy flips me over and pushes my pulsing body back up the bed. His mouth covers my cunnie and finds my opening and my clit and somehow this sends my hips rising and falling, making a game for him of follow the leader. His finger, soaked in saliva and cum running down from my cunnie, finds its way to my bummie and slowly, gently, quarter-inch by quarter-inch slides in and out. It's really the in-out that gets me. Not so much the in-twist, but the thrusting. I can understand why they make ribbed condoms and ribbed dildos and fucking machines.

When we're not tense full of passion, he'll take his time and take the whole time slowly sinking his cock into my ass - while I'm on my back or when I'm like a doggie. Although when we're too fired up, he pushes my legs so far apart like I'm 6 years old and that flexible, and he'll slide his cock into my cunnie. Sometimes he'll perch above pounding me so my head bounces off the bed and my orgasm comes wild. Sometimes he'll get close to my ear and whisper, "You wanna be just like mommy, don't you? You want to be daddy's special girl. You won't tell anyone how we love each other." Or maybe "God, you're like a fucking 16 year old. You're a dirty, nasty teenager fucking an older man." And when I'm on top, "Your fucking tits.... god, your body... it's like you're a fucking high schooler."

When Sir Max is in me it's the same thing. Our little secret. Daddy loves his little baby. Baby wants to be a big girl, doesn't she? Do it for Daddy. Daddy has to have you. Daddy needs to fuck his little girl.

I've asked for this. It seems to be the ultimate taboo and the dirtiest place I can sink. Well... there are dirtier, but for now this is what I'll share.

And when they're inside, I like to clench my cunnie around them. I don't intend to suck the condom off, I don't intend to keep them inside for forever. I push out and suck in. I don't need them to tell me to touch myself. It's better for both of us when I do. But sometimes they tell me, or they make my finger go on my button because they know how it's the next level.

And, when Andy is in my ass, picking up speed sliding in and out, out all the way to the tippy tip of the head and back slowly in all the way to his belly, my finger on my clitty makes it slide that much better, that much smoother, that much wetter and I can lose myself and fuck fuck fuck fuck god yes yes yes fuck yes oh my god the nerves exploding and I can't help but strain against his cock, pushing it out and sucking it back deeply into my bowels. Fuck fuck yes yes and as my muscles clench around him and his hands are on my hips pulling my ass back to him and pushing me away and my one hand clenched around the sheet and the other sliding furiously back and forth back and forth fuck fuck yes yes oh fuck I'm gonna cum Daddy fuck are you gonna cum too? yes? fuck Daddy I'm gonna cum fuck I'm gonna cum all over your cock fuck all over your fucking hard cock Daddy!!!!....

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Vacation looks so damn good on me

There's more to come, but for now... I am sun-kissed all over and relaxed to mellow. I have travelled and lazed. It was a test of my patience and an answer to my prayers.

Photos and words coming soon...

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Another fucking day in paradise

It{s great. The computers have funny keyboards and I havent time to correct. Beautiful resort and a little freaky in how beautiful and clean... Left the "compound" and drove south to Tulum to see a pyramid on a cliff, then cut in to the country on a 2-lane road at 100km. I have pics to explain. Stopped in Coba where I climbed the shit out of a tall ass pyramid {no-name stopped mid-way b-c he kind of freaked out at the treetop line}. Then, stayed in Valladolid - very conservative feeling town. Then, hit Chichen Itza {a local pointed out it{s not "chicken pizza."} which is overrrun by moronic tourists and is too dusty and you cant climb anything. Then, hit the govt-run tollway highway at 120km back to Cancun which is totally ugly and looks like a miserably hot Vegas.

Going back to the beach..

No-name got better. The sex lasts and Im teaching him new tricks.. which I hate doing.. teaching. ugh. Also, interestingly.. got a cold sore. Never had it before. Oh well... always an adventure w- me.


Thursday, May 17, 2007

I'm such a bitch

when I'm not laid.

It's very, very true. I'm short-tempered, nit-picky, catty, impatient, and generally stressed out. This probably isn't unique at all, but I can tell when I've pushed my limits of abstinence. I think it's going on 3 weeks and I'm just unpleasant to be around. Interviewees are worthless snivels, colleagues are overbearing cunts, interns are whiney wusses, and the general population seems to exhibit extreme retardism.

No-name Joe and I gave it a good ol' college try after dinner and margaritas on Monday after my Stats final, but several factors led to a premature ending. I did some reading on this while at work. Allergy meds, sexy girls, mental unfocusedness. Many things can lead to this situation and it's quite common after the teen years [something I did not know at all]. Needless to say, I was polite and supportive. [I certainly don't need a damaged ego on a week-long vacation in paradise.]

But thank god for [large] mercies. Andy. Oh, Andy. My whole body unraveled like a shoelace. I even did the post-coitus, sex-like-therapy cry. It took me a few minutes to settle in to the kisses and to forget thinking about myself with his tongue in my ass and fingers in my cunt. It took me a bit with eyes closed and fists clenching the bed, with his mouth expertly following my bucking, juicy cunnie and fingers sliding in out in out of my tight bumstar. But, man, when it came when I came when I let go when I forgot if I was coming or going when my hips raised up and my hands grabbed the back of his head. Oh tension tightened and released!

I sighed and trembled and opened my eyes to make sure I was still within gravity. The tear of the wrapper, the soft sound of rubber. "Go slow." It had nothing to do with kegel and all natural tightness wrapping around him as he slid inside me. I even tried to tell my muscles to let him in and to relax. Oh, to be filled with cock. Size does not matter. At this point a finger could be squeezed off by my cunnie. Pushing my thighs open and back. Dropping from 10 feet above sliding in prodding in slamming in.

I know my tits were bouncing and my hands clenched banging on the mattress. I know I put my finger on my button. I know my eyes cracked open to see him vibrating into me. "Fuck fuck fuck I'm going to I'm going to I'm going to cum all over your cock fuck fuck yes yes"

My body collapsed into a puddle of putty. Slowly unlatching unhooking unbinding. And from someplace in the center of my cranium a pulley lifted whatever was trapped under organs deep in my belly. And I sobbed a bit. "Don't laugh." He didn't. And post-coitus or greatly paired, I felt drawn to be sensitive with him. I let my head rub his shoulder over and over like a kid. Like poking and pushing a bit on the playground.

Oh, I'll have good dreams. And pleasant pleasantries tomorrow with patience and friendliness all over again.

Monday, May 14, 2007

One day older and deeper in...

You all are so sweet... so many well wishes in my inbox over the past few days. And, oooo, I'm excited for my surprises from noman over at My Secret Life.

Please don't take offense if I compile my thanks and updates here. I'm short on time right now... but long on appreciation and love for yous all.

The Paris-London trip was quite the quick jaunt overseas. I'm still pulling my pics together but we did a sort of slideshow at my parents this weekend with my sister's pics and mine on their new HDTV thing. Very diverse viewpoints and great snaps. We spent the first 24 hours just travelling. Plane, train, tube, train [under water!], metro, walking to the Paris hotel. You'll get to see a snap my sister took of me just as I popped out of the metro underground into the plaza in front of the Louvre and I've told a few that that was the definitive moment I realized I wanted to go to school there.

We ate at a nice, out of the way corner restaurant where no one really spoke English and I got to try my hand at French. Freshman year of HS in Argentina I took a French course from Madame Bousquet who taught us with a proper Parisian accent and those words and lessons have stayed lodged in my brain. I did quite well, and the old label that the French hate Americans didn't seem to ring true at all. My entire time there I was well-received - from the bus conductor to the small sandwich shop owner to the hotel employees to friendly passersby.

London wasn't quite as impressive for me and the school program/Open Day less so. I'm grateful that I went over and checked them both out because it cemented my decision to go to Sciences Po for sure. Yes, I am going to Paris. Yes, it still feels foreign to say out loud. Yes, it's totally unreal and doesn't feel like me who is planning this or doing this, but some alien occupying my body and saying these things.

I told my family today that I wish I could just be more simple, more simplistic. It would make things a lot easier. But I'm not one to be content to just work a 40 hour work week in Shopko. Listening to "This American Life" in the car on the way home today - about the historic change in the Amer Psych Assoc no longer qualifying homosexuality as pathological - I almost felt I could compare my situation. I can't help but make difficult decisions in my life. Wouldn't we all just wish to be normal, easy, happy, simple? Unfortunately we are who we are and must live up to that or struggle eternally with unhappiness and yearning to fulfill our destinies.

I'm not sure any of this writing is making sense.

There was no sexy fun in Europe. In fact, we both got sick by the end of the trip. When I got back I was still sick and then got my period. No sex for about 2 weeks now. I'm kind of starting to lose my mind but sex has taken a back-burner to all these plans and finishing up my Stats and Econ. I finished out my Econ final last week [and had a very strange conversation at the end of the class with crazy cat lady professor as I was the last one out of the room - the conversation involved her recommending some weird book by some woman who could channel some dead guy named Seth]. My Stats final is tomorrow afternoon. [Although, the Monday after my trip I had my last Stats exam and got an unprecedented 90% on it so there's hope for the final yet!]

Last week and this week at work I'm focusing on department interviews for my replacement. I haven't approached it as such as it still hasn't sunk in. Instead, I'm just going about it as interviewing someone new for our team.

No-name Joe took me out for an early b'day dinner last week. It was a weird day because I'd just seen James at the gym and was literally wiping tears when I saw him b/c I've really missed him so much and just feel rather alone in this whirlwind of decisions. But Joe bought dinner and gave me 2 really cool books, a small box of Godiva, and a handy Paris map. I told him I might cry when we're in Mexico because I've just been holding it in for so long. This is all very overwhelming.

Don't get me wrong. I'm thrilled, excited. But terrified. I've never taken out a loan before and to have to take out 2 or 3 for a total of perhaps 120,000$ is daunting. It's an investment. Yes, yes, yes it is. Instead of a house I'm getting a brain.

I spent this weekend and Mother's Day / my b'day with my family. It seemed apropos and my mum was happy. I still woke up forgetting it was my b'day. It's just kind of taken a backseat.

This week it's more interviews and me racing between Madison and Milwaukee to do so, a run up to another city to focus some work, a free Thursday for packing, Friday back in Milwaukee and back in time to meet up with Joe for the totally sold out and hot tickets for The Hold Steady, then we'll nap, jump on the plane that leaves at 6am for Mexico. I'm totally not sure what I've gotten myself into here but I'm sure it will all work out. Hurricane or sunshine, it'll be a needed vacation with no agenda but to see, feel, breathe.

And then I'll be completely out of money. Lord only knows how I'll re-coop in time to get my things out of my apartment by mid-August lease up, buy storage space, buy a plane ticket [one-way or round indefinite?], crash with my parents for a bit, get on a plane, get an apartment in Paris, feed myself, and start school.

Will there be any time for breathing ever again? Any time for my luxurious down-time of days spent with my hand down my pants? Any more binge drinking? Will I carouse on the town again? Or, has my age of innocence passed into a sultry, focused adulthood?

In ten years, I'm sure I'll look back and .....

Friday, May 4, 2007

Ten things

I'm not sure what it says about me that this is the first time I've been "tagged" to do a list of things about me or fill-in-the-blanks. Not that it says anything about my readership, but I guess I lay low and don't really have the multitudes pinging me for my own babble. I'm happy to do it, and actually it would help to have themes for writing sometimes. So, if you come across a list or fill-in, don't hesitate to send it over, red rover. Thanks to Darth Sardonic for de-virginizing me in this activity.

Although, this is really general and not what I was expecting.

Ten things about me:
(Is this ten things you don't already know about me? Ten things related to favorite activities?)

One: I over-think things way too often.
Two: I have what feels like a head cold right now but could be residue from possible strep that my sister thought she had and I thought I was getting while on our trip.
Three: When I look in the mirror I see a lot of fat, and am never happy.
Four: I initiated my first french kiss when I was in 3rd grade with Shane Wheeler.
Five: I am afraid of the dark, deep water, peering through windows into dark rooms, fucking it all up, not being perfectly imperfect.
Six: I have two birth marks.
Seven: From above, when closed, my cunnie looks like she's gently smiling.
Eight: I have a patch of 6 hairs on my lower right back - my dad has the same thing on his.
Nine: I have tubes in my ears from bad ear infections as a kid.
Ten: I really am super duper annoyed by complainers, especially if they're fat and lazy.

So, I'm supposed to tag 10 people who should do this. I don't even know if 10 people read my blog. But if I did think that, I'd tag: Clichemonster, Cookiebush if she was still around online, Highly Recommended Thing of the Moment because I'd like to see 10 videos/games/funnies/links as ways to secretly tell a bit about the blog authors, James of course, noman because he's cloaked in mystery, Graydancer, Dearest Daddy but he'd balk at such banality I'm sure, Ray cuz wouldn't we all like to know more?, and Andy just to shake things up.