Saturday, May 12, 2012
Go and hide.
Let me search for you. I'll hunt you with touch, by listening for the sound of your breath and movements.
I will stalk you like a predator. When I find you, try to escape. Pull, tug away, grunt, break free and run again. It'll be easier to find you the second time, with your breaths more labored and my adrenaline burning like fire in the veins. Keep fighting and eluding.
You won't be able to escape when you're backed into a corner. I'll grab you, and you'll still struggle as I spin you around and run myself between the perky cheeks of your ass. My fingers will twine through your hair, pulling your head back, letting you know that I've got you, you're captured, you're mine.
Your body will betray you. I'll reach down and feel your rich moister running down your thighs. You'll moan even as you struggle against me.
Your hands will be pinned, hard, above your head. There's no running now. You were my prey. Now, you're my feast, to be devoured and ravished.
I'll be posed at your entrance. I'll take a moment to listen to your quickening breath and feel the tension in your body.
Then, my hips will drive purposefully forward...
Friday, May 11, 2012
[This is my entry for Flash Fiction Friday. To see a list of participants, or if you're interested in participating (and you should be!), go visit PB's blog. Happy FFF!]
Challenge Details: Must be less than 100 words, with the required phrase, "...a hint of mischief..."
I don't think I can do this.
Too self-conscious. Too embarrassed and inhibited and modest...
Heart racing, she throws open her top, naked flesh of her breasts bursting forth.
She keeps walking, eyes screwed shut. She doesn't want to see their reactions, doesn't want their disgusted looks to beat her down lower.
Then, a whistle.
Men gaping, or trying and failing not to.
A rush of empowerment, of confidence and beauty.
Well boys, she thinks with a hint of mischief, wait till you get a load of this. Her fingers remove the top button of her denim shorts...
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Experimented with color on this one. There were so many variations and mixtures of shadows and lighting and color... took forever to decide.
Here are some of the other variations of this piece...
...Any volunteers? :)
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
This is just a quick sketch I did. It's been a while since I've taken the time off to just draw something, so decided to do a little nookie. Wasn't sure if I wanted to add the covers in or not, but in the end I like the look it adds.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Photo Courtesy of JM from There is No Spoon!
Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #35 ? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates! Note: Wondering why there is no Top 3 this edition? Read the latest Editor's Note to find out why, and what you can do to help prevent this from happening in the future.
~ Featured Posts (Picked by Lilly) ~
The Ultrasound and the Fury- I cried softly and my partner moved closer to the table so I could lay my cheek against him for comfort and support. Then they brandished a wand and explained they needed to take pictures inside of me. And told him to get out.
Vagina in the Wild - Adventures in Pantslessness - They are self-cleaning and self-lubricating. They are a wonderfully well designed body part that speaks of feminine power and beauty. They leave wet spots on the couch.
~ e[lust] Editress ~
The Ultimate Guide to Silicone Sex Toys – With Metis Black of Tantus, Inc. - I picked the brain of Metis Black, the fabulous woman behind Tantus Inc, makers of some very awesome silicone sex toys. Get your sex geek on and find out some myths and facts about silicone sex toys!
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Kink & Fetish
As Is Custom
Consent and negotiation
Fishnets and Spanking and Sleep
In room entertainment
Ladies' Night: My First Time at an All-Womens' Sex Party
Learn the rope of knots: Overhand Knot
slapping...drinking...and other wacky fun...
Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor
Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
Getaway Sex vs Everyday Sex
Gifts from Lover's
Innies, Outties & 3-Ways
Im 35 and My Mum Can Hear Me Having Sex
Mono or Poly
Mmm, the kissage!
Never Pinch a Sadist #3: Relationship Rules
Safewords in the Real World
The long distance thing
The Next Evolution – Swinging-Open Marriage-Polyamory
A Good Day and Sexzy Night
50 Ways to Fuck Your Lover
Blissful Candlelit Climax
Easy Like Sunday Mornings
In which... I go to my first party (Part I)
I’m the Slut
How It All Started
Our Sex Diary (Part Two!)
Some Truth...About Cocksucking
She Takes Control
The Chair - The Execution
That Familiar Maddening Thrill
The Importance of (Emotional and Physical) Self-Love
Vignette 2: Traffic Stop
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
I'm with your ghost again today.
It really is the first time in a while, too. I'd hate to say that you're plaguing my mind, because this missing what we had is just so beautiful.
It's that craving, you know?
It's more than just missing today, it's desire. A great, healthy, hearty dose of desire and longing.
Longing to be perched behind you on my knees, watching your hands clench and head drop as you absorb that first stroke.
Longing to have your legs crossed round my head as my tongue makes you lose your breath and drop your barriers.
Longing to see the animalistic determination in your olive eyes as I groan into your ear, "I'm going to cum..."
I'm with your ghost again today. Oh well.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Max's Challenge: Between 50-55 words or 200-210 words, no required phrase.
"Don't get me wrong... it's mighty tempting... just..."
"Afraid my parents will be home soon? Well isn't that part of the fun?" She cocked her hat upward. "Maybe a different instrument will get your motor running."
He watched with held breath as one hand slipped from the guitar and flowed to her thighs...
Ram's Challenge: Between 144-188 words, with the required phrase, "... subtle perfidy..."
"The Sin of Freedom"
She turned over her shoulder and gave a laugh. "Then I am your devil, Father."
He had laid down to take a brief afternoon's nap, only to awaken with wrists and ankles bound, Desire standing over his nude flesh. Why was she here? To test his conviction? To tarnish his good name?
"Who are you?" he inquired, a hint of sinful anger in his voice.
She said nothing, her only answer to continue her dance. This was not just subtle perfidy, the way she moved her hands across the canvas of her body. His flesh awakened involuntarily and he could not will himself to look away.
She turned and straddled his thighs. The warmth of her skin sent a chill. Up the underside of his fresh erection whispered the tip of a finger, and his body clenched while hips rose.
She leaned in. Her form seemed to conform perfectly to his, and she whispered into his ear:
"Relax, Father. I'm here to set you free."
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Pushing myself up on my strong arms, looking out the window at the world.
It's slightly cloudy today. No rain, but cloudy.
Sheets roll off as I stand. A long, good stretch.
Breakfast first, small bowl of cereal and some fruit. Then, the shower. Wash my hair with a foamy lather, then my body, every nook. Dry off, brush, floss, mouth wash. Prune the stubble with the electric razor, trim the pubs, shave my balls (carefully), and rise with ice-cold water.
The sun's peaking through now, and it looks comfortably warm out. Nothing too fancy; a pair of jeans, belt, white T-shirt, and hiking boots will do just fine.
I fill my water bottle for the road and take a swig.
It's only a half hour drive into the city where you work. At the parking garage, I flash the attendant the pass you granted me and am let in without a second thought. I'm lucky- there's an open spot right near the elevator.
Park. Unhook. Keys. Open. Out. Close. Lock.
I ride the lift up top to your floor. It's a modest building, so far as the city's concerned. The elevator's empty at first. A man in a black suit and ebony tie gets on at floor ten. He gives a quick, puzzled look at my attire. Suppose I do look out of place amongst the business attire. He flashes another confused look when he gets off before me at floor twenty-five, and then it's just me again.
As the elevator continues to rise, I can't help but notice my heartbeat picks up. I feel a little anxious. In my pants, my cock's starting to perk up. My body's become accustomed to this calender; it knows the timeframe, what time of the month it is, and is already anticipating.
Ding. The doors gloss open.
My hiking boots look out of place against the carpet. There are people running in and out of doors, but none of them seem to notice me. They hadn't seemed to notice the first time I came here either. It's as if they acknowledge, "If he's here, there's a reason he's here, and that's that." It's kinda admirable, I suppose.
The waiting room before your office is a stark contrast to the bustling work and noise near the elevator. But the quiet is deceptive. I know you work just as hard, if not harder. Originally, that's why I thought you'd hired me; an enjoyable and occasional interruption to your busy working day.
Your receptionist waits outside, scribbling notes into your planner and juggling phones like a circus performer. As I approach, she adjusts her glasses and smiles, a gleam in her eye. Her clothes are a striking shade of sapphire and the most color I've seen since entering the building. She's surprisingly cool about the whole thing. I've often wondered what kind of understanding you have with her, that she so willingly stands guard for her boss.
"That time of the month so soon?" she greets as I reach her desk.
Her gaze moves down, then back up. "Apparently so."
I glance down to find my budding erection starting to show through the denim of my jeans. God dammit, body...
Your receptionist checks a screen, then says, "Go ahead, sir." And she gives me a wink. There are five dark, cushioned chairs in the waiting room outside your office. I've never had to wait long enough to sit in any of them.
I grab the handle, open the door, step inside, and close it behind me. I don't try to be sneaky or quiet, though you're on the speaker with someone. Whether they're a client or a colleague I haven't the slightest, but you seem exasperatingly irritated with them and their supposed incompetency. You're speaking firmly to them, one hand on your hip. Your suit jacket's black, and matches your skirt and heels. No jewelry. You've taken it off and set it down neatly on your desk in anticipation of my arrival.
You're a cruel woman. When we first met, I honestly didn't know why you called on me. It seems as though you could just command any man you wanted. Power. I now suspect it has something to do with power, something about balance.
I'm standing in front of you now. Centimeters away. You adjust your glasses. Your cheeks (I can't help but notice) already taking on pink. You already look more disarmed.
Glad to see your body's on the same calender.
"I've gotta go, John." Your voice lacks breath. "I've got a very important meeting."
A click as you hang up.
There's no possible way your receptionist could NOT have heard your gasping moan as my mouth attacks your neck.
Your arms wrap involuntarily tight around my head, driving me harder against you. One arm moves underneath your jacket to your back, the other flows down to the seducing curves of your ass. Your breath comes rapid. My cock now stands tall against my jeans. I know you can feel it against you, straining, longing to be freed and then buried.
My hand forcefully assaults your breasts through your shirt, unbuttoning and moving aside the fabric with impatience. There's not even a hint of pain on your face, only pleasure and relief.
You don't want to be romanced.
This is the only time of the day you're under the control of someone else.
Strong hands move to your ass, squeezing and kneading as I lift you onto your desk. Your phone falls from the surface, hitting the ground with a dull thud. My fingers dance briefly across your thigh and come away soaked. Drenched.
I turn you onto your stomach. "You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"
"Thinking about me taking you."
"You're such a little slut wanting me to fuck you silly in your office."
I can't stand it anymore. "Bend over."
"More," and I push you down onto your desk. You moan as you look back at me, breasts spilling from your top.
My shirt comes off first, then the boots and socks, my belt and jeans, and finally my boxers are disregarded to the floor. You've always liked me bare when taking you.
You're reaching back, pulling your drenched panties to the side, garters strained and taut.
I'm behind you now, forcing your lips apart, watching your juices run down the folds.
"C-condom..." you manage to get out. Despite your impatience, you've always had the foresight to remind me to wear a rubber, and as my swollen head glides between your ass cheeks towards your scalding, dripping pussy, you realize I've already put it on.
I'm at your entrance. Next moment, I'm deep, deep, desperately deep within you. A quick outcry of pain and relief at the sudden invasion of girth and pulsing length. Today's the day you want it hard, without restraint. You want to be taken, commanded, dominated and controlled.
The next thrust is just as forceful. Just as purposeful. And so follows the next. And the next. And the next, then the next, then the next until a steady beat and rhythm reverberate. The wet, smacking sounds. The banging of your desk rising and falling with my intentions. The intensity of our breathing. It's the booming orchestra of our union.
I firmly grasp your hips, throwing you back against me.
Pulling your head back with a fistful of hair, my other hand tames your bouncing breasts.
Grip strong and firm, holding your arms in a vice behind your back.
I claim you, as if we're animals, in all these ways and more, and it is then, rasping and gasping, that you cum for me.
You never came the first two times we met. It took me by surprise when you did during our third meeting. You give yourself so fully to the moment and to your own surrender now, you can't help it. Muscles clench your slick walls around my throbbing cock as your eyes screw shut against the white light flooding your brain.
It's almost too much. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to explode. But not yet.
"Again..." I grunt. "Cum for me again."
Your hands grip the side of your bucking desk, hanging on for dear life.
"Come all over my cock."
I can see the pressure building in your face.
"Show me what a little slut you are."
Your mouth opens in a silent scream as your body begins to shudder. I lean down and bite your neck as your second wrecks your body.
I can feel my own release so near, so close. I begin moaning and grunting, fingers digging into your hips. You've been with me enough times to recognize the signs.
"Yes! Cum in me! Cum in your little slut! Yes! Yes!"
You're throwing yourself back at me, begging, and I lose it. My mind flashes white as wave after wave of my seed gushes forth. I'm being drained, emptied as your pussy milks every ounce it can.
With a long sigh, I slow, and so do you. Our bodies softly relax. You're still laying upon your desk, hands near your head, as I pull my cock from your depths. Your juices drip from the condom as I pull it off and discard it.
You never want a conversation afterward. You want to immediately get back to your busy day with your itch scratched, my payment in my account. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I pull my discarded clothing back on. You continue to lay upon your desk, breathing finally coming down, as I step out the door.
I say to the receptionist, "See you later," walk out, and step into the elevator.
(Author's Note: Not sure yet, but I'm thinking about turning this into a series. Thoughts? Thanks for reading.)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
On some Thursdays, friends and I like to have "TMI Thursdays." It's just as it sounds- some hang out time, coupled with a no-holding-back, tell the truth and nothing but the truth sorta atmosphere. It's also a great time to vent or voice your frustrations with anything going on (or not going on) in your life.
During our last TMI, one of friends admitted to me that he hates it when his girlfriend starts to make out with him. It's not that he doesn't enjoy the way she kisses him (quite the opposite apparently!) but because it doesn't always "lead somewhere," and it can leave him feeling let down and blue-balled.
I can't help but feel this is a problem many men have today. Why does kissing have to lead somewhere? Why should it be branded as a transition? Most likely it stems from the goal-oriented nature of our man-minds. This isn't to say women AREN'T goal oriented, but that we men tend to carry that over into the bedroom, and that gets us in a world of hurt.
So while women are in the moment, enjoying each sensation and subtle variation, most men are thinking about how they're going to progress things, how they'll get from step-one to step-two. Women are kicking the ball around and having a blast, while men are focused trying to drive it into the goal (soccer reference!).
But you can't help feeling this means we're missing out. Everything becomes much more enjoyable when we can get our heads out of our dicks and just delight in the feeling of her lips against ours. This doesn't just apply to kissing or making out, but any aspect of the experience, whether it's foreplay, a nice massage, oral, anything. We can savor every moment so much better if we drive any notion of a goal from our minds and park our asses in the moment.
For all you women out there, lucky you! Seems like this comes much easier to you!
For us men, we should work on it. It's not an easy mindset for us to get, but it sure is worth the effort! Enjoy the lip action for what it is.
Who knows? That mindset might make things 'progress' more often than you think.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
"All about the wedding tackle, twig & berries, pole, fire hose, skin flute, dipstick, meat thermometer or what we all know as the penis."
1. What's more important- length or width? Why?
Honestly, the only thing a big penis really helps with is the psychological aspects of sex. From what I've read from a few other blogs (I obviously can't have an opinion on this!), a wider one makes her feel more "full."
Not going to lie, I hate the traditional obsession with penis size guys seem to typically exhibit. An obsession with penis size can lead to the view that sex is penetration, and that... that's just the wrong way to look at things! I mean, UGH! Humpf. Another post for another time...
2. Ever encountered one that was too big for you to handle?
Uh, nope, not really. lol
3. Best place to put a penis?
Oh wow, let's see... hands, mouth, cunt, the small of your back when I'm behind you running my hands up... Oh, sorry, what were we talking about?
4. If you had a penis for a day, what would you do with it?
Same sorta things I always do with it...?
Penis Envy: Largest penis in the animal kingdom is 11 feet (blue whale)
5. You're a penis, which love canal (that's a vagina) would you most like to visit:
a. short and shallow
b. fall into the gap, gliding smoothly along the slick walls
c. tight suction lip-lock
d. none, I prefer the back door thank you
Bonus: What is the perfect name for your penis or a penis you use often?
Oh wow, I've never actually given my cock a name. Hey! Anybody out there want to name my cock?
If you want to see who else is playing this week, or want to join in, go over and check out the TMI Tuesday Blog!
Saturday, January 7, 2012
This evening, I pushed myself. Really pushed myself. My body's not felt this exhausted--this destroyed-- since I don't know when.
And then, after the final reps, I trudged up to the bathroom for stretching and a shower. As I moseyed by the bathroom mirror, I saw my reflection.
I walked up to myself, put my tired hands down on the counter, and looked him dead on in the face.
I opened my mouth, and he spoke. For the sake of preserving the sanctity of this personal moment with myself, I'm not going to recount exactly what he said. But I will try and paraphrase.
While I stared right into those Pacific Ocean-blue eyes, he said, "I love you."
And he smiled.
"I love you. No matter what you do, what mistakes you make, who you become, I will always love you. Always."
And the smile became, if possible, even more sincere.
Call me crazy, but I believe him.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
*sigh* So. Here it is.
Women, I love going down on you.
Perhaps it's the control; to send your body into seizures of pleasure or make you teeter on the very edge of release until you're begging for that one, hard push off the cliff.
Maybe it's the way you react. When I look up into your half-closed eyes from between your tense thighs. When I moan. When I, "Mmmmmmm..." When I tell you how fucking good you taste. When you realize how fucking much I'm enjoying you.
And maybe this is weird, but it seems like it's always different. How I go down on you always changes, and I don't even know until we get there.
Sometimes it's slow and purposeful. You indulge me in taking the time to explore every inch of your flesh, every curve and bend. When I finally reach your lips, you're wet and ready for the banquet, and your fingers twirl gently through my hair as my moist tongue and lips explore your entirety.
Other times, I'm a little fucker. I tease you mercilessly. Tugging your soaked panties down only to pull them back up, my tongue delivering tormentingly soft licks through the fabric, my fingertips trailing up and down your thighs. Then, when I finally relent, and I'm giving you just what you want, you gasp out, "I'm going to cum..." And I stop. You groan and scowl down at me. Then I start again, and the cycle repeats until your orgasm explodes and you nearly crush my head between your legs.
Then there are the times I'm no nonsense. I want to taste you and feel you squirm underneath my lips. Nearly tearing off your pants, not content to wait for you to get wet, I resolve to make you wet. My desire, the focused passion drives you over the edge before you know it, nails digging into my scalp, your breasts, the wall, wherever they can find purchase to steady you in the storm as your hips involuntarily buck upon my face.
And there are so many other variations.
So, yes. I admit it.
Women, I do love to go down on you.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
1. Finish this sentence: In the New Year ___________.
In the New Year, I'm looking forward to many, many incredible experiences and encounters.
2. Do you make New Year's Resolutions? If yes, what are they for 2012?
Nope. Absolutely not. Any plans I had to improve in 2012 were started last week. I used to look at that last week of December as a recovery/rest period before hitting the new year, but then came the realization that if I actually wanted to get it done, to actually achieve my goals, I had to get some MOMENTUM going. So any plans or goals I have for this year have already been rolling for a little while. Also feel like a resolution or promise to yourself will just hang over your head. Just get up and get the year rolling RIGHT!
3. What New Year's resolutions did you make last year?
4. Think of those resolutions, from last year. How did you do in keeping them?
Like I said, no resolutions, but I did pretty well on keeping to my goals.
5. What was your most memorable sexual happening/experience in 2011?
Well, I was in Tibet, searching for the Yeti when out of nowhere... Haha, but seriously.
I was on top, her legs up over my shoulders. Shuddering and roaring, pumping the last of my seed into her sopping pussy as she gasped and encouraged, but instead of slowly coming down from the experience, I began kissing her again. Passionately, with energy and purpose. Before I knew it, my lips were at her throat, her breasts, down her stomach. She gave me a curious look, I gave a naughty glance, and my face was buried between her legs, eating up all the wetness from before as her nails dug into my curls. We kept at it until my second wind, where she knelt up against the wall so I could take her, hard, from behind. By the time we were done, we were exhausted and her sheets were covered with our sweat, but oh so very worth it.
Bonus: What was your most memorable experience (activity, event, etc.) in 2011?
The amazing experiences I got to have on Maui this last summer were incredible and life-changing. In ten short days, I found friends who became close as family, and a deeper appreciation for life in general. Wouldn't have changed a thing.
Wanna see who else is participating this week? Questions about how you can too? Check out the TMI Tuesday Blog!
Monday, January 2, 2012
Was nearing the end of my workout today, and just wasn't feeling it when I reached that last exercise. I was tired, sweaty, and hot, and dammit I just didn't feel like doing it.
But fuck it. Pushed myself to do it anyway. Someone out there was forcing themselves to keep going, and there was no way I was going to quit out.
Bottom line, finished it, and feel stronger (mentally, not just physically) because of it.
Momentum and habit are some of the strongest tools we have as human beings, especially when they're harnessed for the betterment of ourselves or others. It'll take time to build up enough momentum or for a habit to become natural, but when they do there's no stopping you.
On a final note, don't neglect to do those PC exercises. They'll improve your overall health (not to mention the pleasure for you and your partner).