Peek-A-Boo, I See You

The internet is a bizarre place. You think it’s totally anonymous if you want it to be but it never really is.  Do you know there are sites that can tell you who is searching for you by name in Google and such?

I just found out that my ex-FWB Norris is apparently is doing just that.

It’s not like he doesn’t know where I am.  I live in the same place, as does he, and we know where each other works.  Finding each other isn’t something that would be difficult in any sense of the word.  Although, when I told him I was disconnecting from him for my own mental and emotional well-being, I deleted and blocked him from everything: email, messenger, Facebook, anything I had as a means of easy contact.

This was less about him, and more about me.  Neither one of us is the crazy stalker type.  I knew when I said that was it that he wasn’t going to follow me.  It was like I was quitting him like a drug, and I needed to go “cold turkey”.  I needed no way I could backslide into that “relationship” again. That “relationship” being the 17 year long game of emotional roller coastering with him. It can be summed up very easily by Katy Perry’s song “Hot and Cold”  It has been since September of 2012 that we’ve spoken.

Still, there Norris is, looking for me.  I think it’s more “checking up on” me, really.

I admit to being guilty of the same thing with him.  I want to know he’s ok, that he’s happy, that his kids are doing well, and that maybe he finally found someone that he didn’t have to run away from.  Apparently I am not the only one who’s wondering from a distance.  I suppose that’s what loving someone will do to you.

I know that he sent me clients at work, and I know one of them was there purposefully to find out whether I was single or not.  Let’s just say, if you are going to send someone to “spy” for you, make sure they are a little more subtle.    I can piece together P90X, Jeet Kun Do, and “your boyfriend must love you for this” pretty easily thanks.  Also, it’s not so much what spy client asked me, but more what he didn’t ask me that was the deal clincher.

Admittedly again, I’ve wanted to write Norris lately.  It’s not the first time I had the urge, but I’m rallying against it, and reminding myself that my choice to disengage was best no matter how much I may miss him.

In honor of that feeling, here is the song that Norris said always made him think of me.

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Orgasms: Batteries Not Included

Still coming down from one of the most intense orgasmic highs I have had in long, long, time.  As I sit here legs crossed and type this, I can still feel the aching sensitivity in my clit as it presses up against my panties, and it makes me want more.  It also makes me think I am far too lazy when it comes to self loving’, and that has to change.

True confession time…I am a lazy masturbator.  I touched on this (pun intended) awhile back when I wrote Flying Solo: Myths About Masturbation and Women.  Technology has made me, like most of us, yearn for instant gratification, and I have let that seep into my solo flying time.  For this reason, I envy you men out there because, although there are toys made for you too, I don’t think you rely on them nearly as much as we women do.

When I was 19 and living in NYC, I confessed to my roommate that although I had had sex before, I had never had an orgasm with a partner, nor when masturbating.  She exclaimed, “You need toys”, and quickly planned a field trip for us up to Eve’s Garden on W. 57th St, and there I discovered the world of sex toys for the first time.  I bought my very first vibrator who I later named Pink Pearl.  It was your basic hand-held “back massager” (winky winky, nudgy nudgy), which was really a super compact hand held vibrating clit lover.  The minute I got home I threw some Mazzy Star on my CD player, closed my bedroom curtain (no door to our bedroom, poor college dorm life), and had my first orgasm within 10 seconds!  Bang Zoom!

Pretty soon after that I began having orgasms with partners with ease, the talented ones at least.  In fact, I think my ex-husband was the first man I had an orgasm with, so I should give him credit where credit is due! <insert a round of applause for him here>  But I digress, this is about my solo loving adventures…

Not the same one, but similar to Pink Pearl

Not the same one, but similar to Pink PearBut I digress, this is really about my adventures in self loving…the five to ten fingered kind.

Still, even after enjoying many nights with my Pink Pearl wonder into my mid 20’s, I had never been able to, despite many attempts, been able to make myself com using only my hand.  I found it a little distressing.  I kind of wondered why I wasn’t able to, and truthfully, felt a little ashamed that i couldn’t…like I was broken compared to other women that seemed to be able to finger themselves into orgasm with ease.

One day I was talking with a female friend while we were on a camping trip, and somehow the topic of masturbation came up.  What can I say?  I have some pretty cool friends and some wild campfire stories because of it.  Anyway, I confessed that I had been unsuccessful at making myself cum by hand, and that I had to rely on toys. Lo and behold, I felt the greatest relief when a huge smile beamed from her face and she cried, “Me too!”  Suddenly, we were no longer solo in our touchy situations!  You could just see the weight of judgements we had made about ourselves silently lifted from our shoulders in this moment of female campfire bonding.

In the summer of 2006 I had taken a job that was out of town, and I ended up staying at my mother’s house during the week in order to make the commute shorter.  I was 30.  The nights were warm and humid, and because I love warm weather, I delighted in sleeping with the window next to my bed open so I could listen to the alluring sounds of night.  Now, that year was a lot like this past one for me.  That July it had been a long stretch of months that I hadn’t had sex, and much like now, that meant my libido was on overdrive.  I had forgotten to bring my vibrator with me, and even if I hadn’t, I would’ve been afraid I would have been overheard even in the middle of the night.

That day at work I had a client who was a doctor on vacation from Canada.  He was very tall (just how I like men to be), with short dark hair and hazel-ocean eyes.  I’m not sure what it was about him that made him stand out to me, maybe it was how he smiled at me that seemed to convey a more desirous subtext then what was actually spoken, but that night he became that focus of my fantasies.

By this point I had just succumbed to the idea that I couldn’t bring myself to orgasm with my fingers, but without my vibrator, I was going to have to make due.  I stroked my pussy while I thought of him…his eyes, his lips…and what I imagined the rest of his body looked like.  I slid my fingers inside myself and stroked my g-spot, making sure to brush the length of each finger against my clit each time I would pull them out.  I was lost in this fantasy fueled by fervid lust of a total stranger.

And then I came, so hard, that I was flying high on both orgasmic bliss and total disbelief!  It was well after midnight, but I couldn’t help it.  I was so excited to have brought myself to orgasm without anything else but my touch, that I immediately (once I could pull myself together enough to speak coherently), called the one person I knew who might be up, my long-time friend (and occasional lover) Emrys, and gleefully shared my glorious accomplishment.  You would have thought I had just won an Oscar for it with the excitement that poured out of me.

That was 8 years ago, and guess what?  Despite the fact that I now knew it was possible for me to make myself cum by only my touch, I fell back into my lazy mastrabatory love of technology, and have used a vibrator ever since.  Admittedly, a lot of the time it just comes down to that: sheer laziness on my part.  I know I can make myself cum this way with very little effort, and sometimes, a quickie is all I really want or have time for.  Sleep is precious man!

If there is one thing I know about the world we live in, it’s that everyone seems to want to find a faster, more efficient way to do things.  Sadly, my solo sexcapades have taken this same trend to heart…or part, should I say.  This afternoon was a lesson in why this is robbing me of some deliriously mind-blowing orgasmic fun time.

Flirty Running Friend to the rescue!  Yes, as always with our sexy little texts he made me instantly juicy.  There was that wanton desire again that was unrelenting, and most definitely required an afternoon tryst with myself.  This time I didn’t reach for the vibrator though.  I wanted to fantasize about what his lips and tongue would feel like on me, and there was no way I could do that any justice with some battery-operated toy.

I am get very wet, but I wanted my pussy even slicker.  Lucky Bloke sent me a wonderful gift package of lubes (so much lube, so little time), and it’s high time I make an effort to play around with them.  I used just a little, but oh, it made my pussy deliciously silky to touch.  I stroked the shaft of my clit from the top of the hood to the tip, and lost myself in pretending it was his tongue.  I  took my time.  I reveled in every blissful sensation of my touch.  It was like drawing with electricity on my skin.  I sent him little texts about what I was doing until I could no longer focus on anything else, but my touch and my fantasy of him.

I reached inside with one…two…three fingers, teased myself, pulled out, and went back to stroking my clit.  I slipped my clit between two fingers and lightly squeezed them together around it as I rubbed up and down.  I was trembling with such fierce electric pleasure from each stroke.  This was something new I discovered I liked.  I always like learning new things about my body, even now after I have been long acquainted with what brings it satisfaction.

When I came, it was more intense than I ever do with toys.  And I do love toys, I do (Lelo, you’re the one for me, baby), but this was in another whole realm completely.  It was so much closer to the intensity of orgasms that I have with partners. This totally blew solo sex with vibrators right out of the water!  As I lay there, still shuddering with tremors of pleasure even several minutes after the crescendo of my orgasmic peak had subsided, I couldn’t help but wonder why I don’t forgo toys more often.  I am more than convinced that I need to wean my solo flights off batteries and spend more time learning how to more artfully play the “sin”strument that is my body.  I want to break free from my 90’s “instant gratification” Generation X’er haze and take my time.  After all, why rush pleasure?  Save that shit for the DMV and the dentist office…aka “things we hate that never seem to go fast enough”, My Precious.

And now I leave you with this 90’s flashback, and a little tribute to Flirty Running friend.

Don’t let this go too much to your head, FRF…you’re not the only one I want. =)

A Hand In The Bush Is Worth More Than Two Fingers

When I was 18 I had sex with my step brother.  I had just moved to NYC for college, and now that I was “legal”, the opportunity to make something long-flirted around, a reality, was too tempting to pass up.

Even though I had lost my virginity a few years earlier, with two different partners, I really had no real understanding of what good sex was, let alone how to be any “good” at it.  My parents never really talked to me about sex (whose really do), so my sexual education really came from watching soap operas and guessing, watching one porn film and wondering “Why?”, and then filling in the blanks with anything else sexually stereotypical the pre-internet media wanted to share with me.  Like many teenagers, I was just fumbling my way through without the manual.

So here, after just turning 18 two days before, I called up my step brother who lived in Alphabet City at the time, and head over to his place with all sorts of nerves fluttering around in my belly for the long anticipated encounter.

It was horrible.

It was right out of a bad porn film, and I am not free from blame there.  It was a “legs over his shoulders, feet in the air, thrusting like a wayward jackhammer, bad porn girl noises” kind of awful.  No orgasm, not even close…for me at least.  I was so disappointed.  He was 9 years older than me, so I thought I might learn something, but instead as I was getting dressed, I realized I had more questions than answers.  Not wanting to keep feeling as naive and unexperienced, I went for shock value.  As I was buttoning up my shirt, I cocked my head to the side, smiled, and said, “Have you tried fisting?”

Needless to say, I really had no idea what fisting really was.  He was like, “Babe, you are way more hardcore than me”.  So, zing!  I left his apartment not feeling like a totally naieve  nymph.  Still, to this day, I have no clue where I came up with that.  I’m guessing I must have heard it mentioned in some book or movie that had crossed my recent path.

For years, my vision of vaginal fisting was just that: “way hardcore”.  I always envisioned it as something most likely painful, definitely uncomfortable, and not in the least bit pleasurable.  I just imagined some man with a fist up his lover’s pussy, just slamming away.  That was a total visual turn off for me.  And while I love rough sex and sensory play, getting off on pain has never been my thing.

At 27 all my misconceptions about fisting came crashing down in one earth-shattering, g-spot induced, orgasm.

I have always loved being fingered while having my pussy licked.  To be stroked inside, to be penetrated, to revel in the feeling of being filled, has always intensified my pleasure.  Oh, I can come without it, yes, but it just makes the orgasm that much more pleasureable.  It takes it to a whole other level.  It’s the best of both oral and penetrative lovemaking.

I was in a relationship with a lover during that time which was really based on mutually exploring our sexual boundaries.  In the course of talking one evening about things we wanted to try, he brought up fisting.  I had my image in my head, but he assured me it wasn’t what I had been long imagining.  A few weeks later he bought me the book A Hand In The Bush: The Fine Art of Vaginal Fisting, which I admit I only read a short bit from before I consented to trying it with him.  I highly recommend it if you haven’t read it yet.

One night, as he was nestled with his face deep between my thighs he slid a finger inside my pussy, and then a second…still encircling my clit with his tongue, along my hot slit, and I was on fire for him as usual.  He pushed in a third.  He had nice thick fingers.  I loved the way they felt filling me. He stroked me deep inside, traced his passion with each strong finger on my inner walls, and I tightened around him like a glove.  It was like he was making me his instrument, and my sighs and moans were our music.  My thighs were quivering with this intense pleasure that was racing though every inch of my skin. And when he inserted a 4th finger, it was such a insatiable desire flowing through me that I didn’t even realize we had reached that.

It was so primal, so deeply intense.  It was a feeling I had never experienced to that magnitude before. It’s a g-spot orgasm that is like a full-body earthquake that’s an 8.5 on the Richter Scale!   Imagine ladies (or gents) your most intense orgasm, and then multiply that by 100, maybe 1000.  Imagine that, and you might come close to the sensations I was experincing from being filled by his hand.

Photo courtesy COSMOS Magazine

Photo courtesy COSMOS Magazine

We got up to 4 that time before the intensity scared me, and I felt a twinge of pain which I feared was me tearing, but really was the unfortunate nick of a fingernail that wasn’t filed down well enough.  He pulled his hand out slowly, and I would have sworn he was wrist deep inside me.

Rule #1 of good fisting experiences – trim your nails down so no edges can be felt at all!

See, that’s just it.  Fisting isn’t about making a fist and shoving it into your partner’s vagina like a plow. If you Google images of it, that’s all you’ll see; a bunch of hands and forearms stuffed into vaginas, but it really gives a false impression to a seriously delightful experience.

Rule #2 – Slow and steady wins the race!

Be patient and take your time.  It’s slow, it’s sensual, it’s deeply intimate.  If done right, you’re not inserting a fist, but rather slowly making a fist inside your partner’s pussy.  That it what naturally will happen as the fingers  curl the more you progress, once you get past the hardest part, which is the wide part of the man’s hand near the lowest thumb knuckle.  The key to being able to get more fingers in, and inevitably the whole hand,  is that you’re relaxed, and the best way for you for us ladies to be relaxed is to not feel pressured.  Don’t be set on the end goal, enjoy every moment of the ride.

I have to tell you that even in the many times he and I explored this way, his hand was just too wide to fully get past that widened area of his hand.  We were very close one time, very, but then he started licking my asshole that I lost all control, and I came so hard and so fast that it merited a place on the calendar. It has been known since as “BOOML” December 23, 2008.  Otherwise known as “Best Orgasm Of My Life”.  Let it just be said that I am by no means a quiet lover, so I am pretty sure everyone within a 50 mile radius heard me that day too.  Everybody celebrate!  Sorry neighbors.

Rule #3 – No matter how wet you get, use lube!

I get very wet naturally, very, so we didn’t need extra lube (or so we thought), but if you’re going to try this for the first time with a lover, I suggest definitely using a good lube.  And even as juicy as I get, a little extra lube is never a bad thing.  Plus, vaginas are very delicate places, so this will help prevent anything unpleasant like tearing from happening.  Speaking from my first time experience, it really pulled me right off my pleasure high rather quickly.

Photo Courtesy Weheartit.com

Photo Courtesy Weheartit.com

And lastly, Rule #4 – Don’t be afraid to try something new

If I hadn’t have been open to trying this, I would have missed out on a height of sexual ecstasy that I would have not believed was possible.  Be open to pushing your own boundaries, safely that is, you never know what pleasures await you.

Men, I’ll use this moment to say that having a woman stroke your  prostrate with one, or more, fingers can be just as pleasurable for you.  Want to amplify that pleasure?  Have her suck your cock while she does it.  And I promise, it won’t make you gay (haha – Seriously, why are straight men still so fearful of some equal opportunity loving’ here?)  Personally, I find it very sexy to touch a lover this way, but as much as you guys love are asses, you play hard to get with us with your own  Unfair I tell you, unfair!

And it should be noted, it is ok to not enjoy something.  You may try fisting and not have the same experience as me.  It may just not butter your muffins like it does mine, but at least you will know because you gave yourself permission to explore and experience it.

I am still waiting to explore fisting again with a new lover, and hopefully, finally be able to experience the sensation of a whole hand inside me.  It’s not something I would do with every lover and it’s probably not something on every man’s sexual menu, but thanks to that one lover, it is forever on mine.

Adventures in Sexting and Why I Love The Art of the Flirt

It all started with some flirty sexting one morning on my commute to work, and ended with me in the men’s private bathroom at work fingering myself.

Flirting makes me feel so alive.  It’s an instant high that spreads through my whole body starting with a smile on my face, a flush of warmth across my skin, and moves downward to crescendo into full blown juiciness between my legs (if done well).  I’d say it’s like a drug, but of course it is, it’s dopamine, baby.   It’s the (for the most part) kind of high I get from running, which is kind of funny, because as I was Googling around I found this article that basically discusses this same parallel.

I love it even more when it’s done with someone who understands the fine art of seduction, and who enjoys the art of subtly.  I love the mental “cat and mouse” game.  Teasing, chasing, and getting caught are so much fun.  And when he tells me how hard I make him with our flirtatious interludes, I can’t hep but feel intensely satisfied at the thought.  Thinking of that always makes me smile like the Cheshire Cat.

So one morning this week as I was commuting to work (don’t worry, I wasn’t driving at the time), some random flirty text messages transported me from the hum drum of the usual routine, and into a dopamine-induced fantasy land of arousal that literally had my head dizzy with want.

sextingThey started with that playful subtly that I love, little innuendoes that tease, and eventually worked their way into full-blown sexting at it’s finest.  I could feel my pussy literally dripping tight with desire at the thought of his face buried deep between my thighs covered in my juices, imagining his tongue lapping at my clit as he slid 2…3…4…fingers deep inside my hungry cunt.  And that was just the beginning, just the opening tease to make my body ache with need for his cock to be sliding into me like a hot knife through butter.   It was a wonder I had even made it into the building at work without walking straight into a wall in the haze he had me in.

When I finally made it in and settled, I was downstairs in a common room we all share for lunches.  Two other women were there also engaged with their phones, but definitely not having an experience like I was.  I could feel my skin flush with lust, and as much as I can hide my inner world, there is only so long  and so well one can hide a ravenous primal hunger.   I became aware that I was making impish faces and involuntary light moans.  I was sitting with my legs crossed so I could rub my clit between my thighs without anyone noticing, a trick I learned when I was 14 while reading the book The Joy of Sex, and I just knew the dizzying cloud of my arousal was now too much to go unnoticed.

I told him it was a good thing he was so far away because if he were here, I would not be able to control myself.  My willpower was at zero, and I would have NEEDED to touch him.  Nothing was truer.

I know, you’re thinking what would be so wrong with that?  And while I am single, he is not.  And no, he’s not polyamorous (which I am actually quite thankful for because honestly I’ve had my share of that for this lifetime, thank you).  I suppose if I was his girlfriend I would probably want to strangle the shit out of me (and him) if I knew we were having such a lascivious sexting romp, but then really, nothing is really happening.  It’s all just talk.  No one is acting on anything close to this, however, in those moments if he had been in the same room with me, my desire was so rampant that it would have been near impossible to control.  So, luckily I wasn’t actually in that position because I don’t want to be a shitty human. willpower

Fictional moral dilemmas aside…at least I could give myself the release my body was begging for.

With my lustful desires now being impossible to adequately hide, I took myself upstairs and into the one place I knew was quiet and no one would bother me: the men’s private bathroom.  It’s tucked away in a part of the building that no one seems to bother to go to, which makes it the perfect spot to feel comfortable enough to touch myself without fear of being interrupted.  I’m a very vocal lover, even when solo, so there was no way I could take myself all the way over the edge, but at least I could rub some of this torrid desire out of myself so I could at least attempt at being focussed on work and not distracted by all the lurid thoughts I was having about what I wanted to be doing with him.

I slipped into the bathroom, locked the door behind me, pulled my pants down around my hips, and slid my fingers inside my warm, wet, slit.  I stroked my clit with the lightest of fingertips to tease myself.  I couldn’t resist sending him a photo of my fingers covered in my juices.  He told me he thought that was fucking hot and that he wanted to lick them clean.  That just made me wetter.  I was almost going to post the photo here, but decided it was more erotic to me to keep that just between the two of us.

I teased myself some more, sliding fingers up inside my pussy to caress my g-spot and free myself from the desperate need to be filled by his cock.  I knew I couldn’t keep going for much longer because if I had cum, there would have been no being quiet about it, so I fixed my clothing, splashed some cool water on my face, and did my best attempt at going back to my room to focus on the day.  I can tell you it was definitely not free of distractions, as I found myself lulled into daydreams of him bending me over, holding me down, and burying his cock deep inside my ass.

It made for a most interesting day to say the least.  Admittedly, those same thoughts have been distracting me ever since.

Saudade

20131212-162541.jpg

 

Saudade c. 2013

 

I feel it still

a silent thread so loud inside my skin

and I’m still unraveling with you

after all this time

 

A compass in the dark

I feel you out there like my north

even when I have cast you out, away,

drown your voice in the noise of life’s traffic

 

18 years of lovers, and you

yet still i yearn

for love spoken

that should have never been

and to walk in a world without your gravity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just What Are You Referring To?

This was just too funny not to share.  Below you have the most popular things searched for that referred them to my super saucy little black dress of a blog. That means that someone Googled, Yahoo’d, or Binged these interesting words or phrases and it led them right here.

These are the results for the last 30 days.

Search Views
saposexual 42
erogenous 3
what is saposexual 2
meaning of saposexual 2
customizable erogenous stories 1
femaleanalsex 1
tips for beginning dominant 1
enormous stories cock female doctor 1
define: saposexual 1
saposexual definition 1
bd for beginners sex 1
wjat is saposexual 1
spanking with a silicone spatula for fun 1
lady cheeky sex positions pics 1
dr ruth sucks cock

 

I particularly love the very last one “Dr Ruth sucks cock”.  Now THAT my friends is kinky!

A Good Night’s Tweet: A Bedtime Story (Repost)

I originally posted this here on September 1st 2012, and it was later published by GetLusty on their site about a week later.
Tonight is a good night for a little time traveling back by reposting this.  May you enjoy the ride as much as I have.

*************

I didn’t even attempt trying to go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight.  I’ve done that for the past two nights, but without fail, that big ripening moon in the sky did her best to keep me awake.  Blue Moon, I had my friend in Italy ask you to be quieter for me tonight so I would sleep, but you are a harsh mistress, and not a cell in my body asks for sleep as you peak at me through the curtains in my bedroom.

The moon outside my house

My friends over at GetLusty tweeted last night (yep, it’s a verb now, get used to it) asking what our favorite sexual positions were, and you know, other than names for the standard fare like Missionary and 69, I was really at a loss.  I mean, I’m not sure some of my favorite positions even have names.   I guess you could say I’m “creatively gymnastic”.  When I’m having really mind-blowing, heart-pumping, sweat-drenched, sheets are coming off the bed, “the house could fall down around me and I’d never even know” sex, I never really paused long enough to give much thought to what the things we were doing together were called.

All of our kinetic movements and gestures for positions are just that; gestures fed on the electric inertia of lustful bodies.  There is no thinking at this point, if you’re lucky.  There is no pause, no awareness of cognitive process.  I’m plugged in.  I’m an intrinsic charge in a circuit that hums and pulses with every leg thrown up and over your shoulder, every hand tightly clasped around your back dimpling into your flesh, or every hip driven back against you as you thrust into me from behind, using the length of my hair in your hands like reins.

What do I call that?  How do I name that?  How do I even do that justice with a few simple words?

Have you ever tried to describe a sexual position in one tweet?  Let me just say, it’s not easy.  It’s really challenging to be descriptive of such things with only 140 characters as your limit.  Here is what it looked like when I sent it.

“@getlusty Modified Coital alignment is right up there w/ Man seated, W straddles cock, knees bent, feet flat on bed, leans back on her hands”

It just is totally devoid of intensity and passion, which is so unlike what it actually feels like to experience.  And then I’m supposed to find an even more abbreviated way to say that?

However, if I were to tell you that one of my favorite positions is found in a moment, in an impulse…I roll you over onto your back to straddle you, your cock throbs eagerly to be back inside me again as I hover above you holding you in anticipation.   You can feel the heat of my pussy radiating down against your flesh, and your hands feverishly grab at my hips to pull me down onto you.  I love the low growl that escapes your lips as you fill me, and the quake that follows through my body like the tremors in the strings of a well strum harp.  My gaze has never left the snare of yours.  We are often like this, which is why I hunger to be in the wake of its hazel grasp.  Slowly you raise yourself up, your weight now balanced on your hands pressed firmly into the sheets beneath us.  I am like a fawn in the headlights of your desire.  Encircling the amber skin of your back, hands sliding up along the curve of your spine, I draw your broad chest to meet the rise of my porcelain flesh.  I love the feeling of your chest hair grazing my pert rose nipples, and the heat that pours out of your skin as I press myself against you, and you fold your arms around my waist.  Your voracious mouth finds mine with greedy impatience, and I can taste our sweat on your lips as I draw my tongue to yours. I long to know its intimate terrain, and each slow caress of my tongue paints my desire inside you, where only you can speak it.  I know because I sing the trail of yours left with tongue, teeth, and nail across my sinuous landscape.   My right hand’s fingers have found their way up to be nested in the grasp of your short brown hair, and I brace myself against you, holding tightly to the swell of your shoulders with my left.   On days when you would be in your head, you would interject that it has touches of gray, but that is of no concern to me.  I’ll know you when only gray remains, even if we are no longer lovers such as this by then.

Our bodies ride together; a slow steady ebb and flow like a tide to shore, but we both feel the pull of our rampant need growing.  I loosen myself from our embrace to lean back on the weight of my arms now, my hands planted firmly against the mattress cushioning us, and stretch my legs out, knee bent, behind you.  Your tumescent cock drives itself deeper inside me, as I shift the weight of my hips forward against you.  You recline back onto your hands now, the cool sheet slipping against your fingertips as you find your steady against them.  I watch your arms tremble as you climb higher to your edge with each fevered thrust of my pussy upon you.  Our breaths come in quick gasps now, and with each grind of my hips against you I can feel the feverish spill of my juices devouring your manhood.  I know how much it drives you wild with abandon to watch your cock glisten and drip with me, as you watch it part my lips, to slide, push, and plunge inside me, even when I am the one controlling our pace.

You…always know…just…how…to…push me…to the…edge where…I…am……bursting!  I arch my back and throw my head back in shame at how you bring me there with such ease, as I come quaking upon you while watching the same insatiable peak crest and course through your taught frame.  As our breaths slowly find themselves again, our sweat-covered bodies collapse into the bed underneath.  I still have you inside me, and savor the feel of you until you begin to soften. Eventually I roll off of you, and turning myself, entangle my body in your awaiting arms to drift together into slumber.

Yeah, I guess we could call that position “The X Marks the Spot” to fit it into a tweet, but still, for me, it will always be so much more.  After all, what’s in a name?

It’s almost 6am here.  The moon is making her descent back into the trees.  Maybe she’ll let me sleep now.

In The Air Today…Tonight

I spent the better part of my down time at work scouring YouTube for my most favorite scene from the movie Wild Orchid to share with you.  If you’ve seen it, it’s the scene where Carrie Otis is walking through the abandoned hotel in Rio and finds a couple having fervent, unabashed sex up against a wall under cascading water.   I just find that scene incredibly hot.  Ravenous sex up against a wall, and there’s water too?  Hot.  So hot.  “On my mind all day long” kind of hot.

It’s been one of “those” days.  The kind of day when restless desires ride me like the ocean tide to shore.  No matter what the day brings, no matter how interesting or banal the task to draw me from it, my body has other needs that won’t allow themselves forgotten or pushed aside.

I hear it’s quiet want singing beneath my clothes, simmering between my legs, smoldering under each pore of my porcelain skin.

I chased it away as best I could.  I envy men who could take themselves into the privacy of their office bathroom and have their way with themselves to free their minds from such a snare.

Unfortunately, despite my keen searching abilities, I was unable to find this scene, and although there were others from that film, none of them stoke my inner desires quite as much as the one I was hoping to find and share.

However, I reminded myself of this scene from Risky Business, my love of the heightened arousal only sex where one might get caught (even when in reality you really don’t want to be) brings, and my love of the city at night.

Please note, Tom Cruise is and has never been the least bit sexy to me.  It’s the elements of the scene more than the people in it that do it for me; the lighting the both hides and reveals, the setting, the seduction, the innocence that peels away to reveal desire. It’s a small scene of cinematic genius.  I imagine myself and a man of my choosing, and then replace these people with us.  And honestly, who can deny the sensuality of “In The Air Tonight”  by Phil Collins?

Describing Me: Word Porn of The Day

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Although I wouldn’t describe myself as being “in pain” from this, it is an agony only some of us bare inside: a desperation to know and be known by others without the masks we wear. It’s a hunger to be freed.

Well, Now What?: The Making of a Sexual Bucket List

So, as I was noodling around on Facebook this evening I came across this post from a friend which kind of made me bat my eyelashes in disbelief.  The Sexual Bucket List: 50 Things To Do Sexually Before You Die lists 50 things that the author, a fellow woman, believes to be the “must do’s” of the sexual experience, and while it may be a good start, I’m sorry, but this list needs serious revision.  Some of this stuff is just so vanilla that it’s beyond vanilla.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of vanilla sex as you may remember reading (In Praise of Vanilla), but if you’re going to make a sexual “Bucket List”, it had better have some bells and whistles!

First, allow me to go through the author’s sexual bucket list one by one.  I haven’t done all of the things she lists, but it’s kind of surprising what I have vs. what I have not.  Some of the things listed make me think the author had a very difficult time coming up with 50 things to do sexually.  My sexuality isn’t quite so limited in it’s explorations and desires.

  1. Kiss a girl – “I kissed a girl, for the first time, I kissed a girl, and I just might do it again…”
  2. Have anal – Received and given (with fingers and a strap-on for the giving end.  Rest assured, I have no penis. LOL
  3. Have a threesome – Done it (both FFM and MMF)
  4. Engage in group sex – Isn’t this really the same thing?  Ok, so I’ve went up to 4, how’s that for a group?
  5. Have phone sex – Done it.  Phone sex always makes me a little nervous, and I’ve never really been able to figure out why.
  6. Masturbate – Um, seriously?  Does this even need to be on the list?  Isn’t this a no brainer?
  7. Use a vibrator – Again, really?
  8. Use a sex toy on someone else – Just one?
  9. Be tied up – Too many times to count
  10. Tie someone up – Same answer as #8
  11. Have sex in a public space – Always looking for new places! Suggestions?
  12. Be a voyeur and watch others having sex (live, porn does not count) – Where I wasn’t a part of it?  Hmm, I don’t think so.
  13. Sex in a car – More than a few
  14. Sex at a drive-in – Is there another reason to go to a drive in?  Actually, there must be because I have yet to have sex at the drive-in.
  15. Mile-high club – We decided the bathroom was too small, so, no.
  16. Sex with a stranger – I knew him for about 20 minutes, does that count?
  17. One-night stand – More like a “One afternoon stand”
  18. Married sex (the best kind, in my opinion) – Yep, it wasn’t my best, but at the age of 21 you really don’t know what “good sex” really is yet.
  19. Sex on a boat – Nope, can’t say I have…yet
  20. Sex in a body of water – I’ve had sex in a few pools, but never in the ocean.  I really need to rectify that.
  21. Light spanking – I’m sorry, I literally just LOL’d when I read this one again.  Bare handed, hairbrush, paddle, and of all of the above, I prefer a nice firm hand.
  22. Read erotica – Yawn.  I write it.  I wrote my first story in 8th grade, and my English teacher leaned over my desk and said to me, “I don’t think that’s currently what we’re studying”.  True story, bro!
  23. Play strip poker/Monopoly/card game – I lost, or won, not sure who really loses in that game. =)
  24. Sex in the shower – So many showers, so many!
  25. Sex standing up against a wall – Against the wall of the shower and in a movie theater bathroom stall.
  26. Sex with no kissing – Sex MUST include kissing!  I am far too oral to consider sex without lips on lips.
  27. Sex in the pitch black – Again, really? Who the fuck puts this on a sexual bucket list?  
  28. Sex in the broad daylight – Outdoors in the sun!
  29. Making out with no sex long after you’re no longer a virgin – I was just thinking about this today.  I had the most gloriously sexy 2-hour make out session with a man I was long-time friends with, and although we attempted to make a date to finish that energy off in sexual crescendo we never ended up doing so.  
  30. Sex in a tent in the wilderness – On a volcano no less!  Also out in the woods many a time.
  31. Watch porn together – While  yes, I have done this (and with my ex-husband), I don’t find porn sexy.  Ugly people who obviously aren’t even enjoying themselves does nothing for me.  
  32. Watch porn alone – When I was 12 I watched a porn film that I stole from my brother’s secret stash.  It was called something like “The Layout”.  It turned me on, but it was really stupid and cheesy.
  33. Learn to give yourself multiple orgasms – Yes, but I prefer them with partners.
  34. Sex on the beach – On a lifeguard shack on the beach in the Virgin Islands
  35. Blindfolds – Occasionally
  36. Using ice sexually – Ice, chocolate sauce, Nutella, ice cream, pudding, fruit, jam, juice, and even a cucumber.
  37. Sexual role play – I was a bad, bad, girl, and I needed to be punished.  
  38. Whipped cream – Yawn
  39. La Perla lingerie sex – It’s lingerie, really?  It frightens me that this even needs to be listed.
  40. Frederick’s of Hollywood lingerie sex – Same as 39
  41. Sex with someone much older – I used to always date older men, but the degrees of separation varied.  When I was 23 I had sex with a man who was then 45.  I thick 22 years is the greatest difference.
  42. Sex with someone younger (legal!) – Last year I had sex with someone who was 25.  I was 37.
  43. Sex in a foreign country, possibly with a foreigner – I’ve had sex in Canada and the guy was Canadian, does that even count?
  44. A quickie in a skirt – A quick what?  I’m sure I’ve had sex in a skirt before.
  45. A longie in the rain – A “longie”? Again, I laugh out loud.  I’ve kissed in the rain, but never had sex in the rain before.
  46. Sex in the ocean while people swim all around you – Not yet
  47. Feather ticklers – My ex-husband and I used to go to this craft store in the mall across the street from my college apartment in Jersey City, and we would buy all sorts of crazy things just to raise their eyebrows.  We bought a peacock feather and had lots of fun both in, and out, of that store.
  48. Sex while “altered” whether by alcohol or something else – Yes, more than once.
  49. Learn to orgasm in less than five minutes from intercourse alone – Well, I never really timed it.
  50. Silent sex in a full house – For anyone that knows me intimately, they know how much of a challenge this is for me, but yes, I’ve done it.  It wasn’t truly “silent” though, just quieter than the usual go-around.

Now, another friend had started my thoughts kindling on this a few months ago when he asked me if,  given my sexual openness, there was anything left that I had not yet done that I wanted to do.  At the time I really had a hard time coming up with something I felt I had a yearning to try.

polyFor the longest time I had wanted to have a threesome with two men.  I had had numerous threesomes where it was me, a male lover, and another woman, but the MMF threesome eluded me.  I was once lovers with a man and his best friend at the same time, just not in the same bed.  There was one night where we all got friendly together on the living room floor, but eventually one of them bowed out, and left the two of us alone to finish the evening off.  Those men, not so into each other sexually.  In my opinion, and in my ultimate fantasy of this MMF threesome, both men have to at least be sexually “friendly” enough to share a bed together and not freak out if they end up touching.  In short, this would work best with bi men, but at least with men who are bi-sensual.  Of course, I’m kind of greedy, and the whole point of the MMF threesome is to have two men ravishing me.

In July of 2012 I finally did get to have my MMF threesome with two bi-friendly (well hell, they were REALLY friendly, but I can’t claim either one as  out as bisexual), however it was not quite what I had expected.  It was great, don’t get me wrong.  It was incredibly sexy, and in some ways, it fulfilled more than one long-dreamt of fantasy bucket list item (the second being the combination of the 3 of us), but it happened too quickly for me to be completely comfortable with it.  I blame tequila and snap decision making.  The one man and I have been long time lovers.  In the list answers above he was the 45 yr old man I slept with when I was 23.  There’s a whole separate post here that I have been meaning to write, so I’l save the story for later and get back to the idea of what’s left on my bucket list.

So, what’s left?

Without further ado, here is my sexual bucket list.

Portia Blush’s Sexual Bucket List of Must Do’s (Or Must Do Over’s)

  1. I want a “do-over” on the male/male/female threesome.  Definitely.  It probably would not be with the same original two men.
  2. Fisting – I want to finally experience all 5 fingers inside me, a whole hand filling me.  The lover that I explored this with extensively could never get the wide part of his hand inside me, so we only got up to 4.
  3. Sex in a glass elevator – Not sure why, but this has always been a fantasy of mine
  4. Fucking a male lover with a strap on – Ever since I dated a bi guy in college I have had fantasies about it.  I had one lover who I did this with, but it didn’t really work well because I bought a double-ended dildo that was specifically designed to be worn with one end inserted into your pussy that would stimulate your g-spot while you fucked your parter with the larger end, and although they said it would work without a harness, it didn’t, and without the harness it just wouldn’t stay snug up inside me enough to work as intended.  So, standard dildo and harness next time.  I have a stellar leather harness that was custom made for me from JT’s Stockroom. (Oh how I love that store – and they send you tootsie pops with every order!  Sex and Candy, just like the song)
  5. Having a Violet Wand used on me – I have mo idea what it will feel like, or if I’ll even find it as sexy as I think, but it sure looks fucking hot, so I want to at least try it.violetwand

So far, that’s all I have.  I’m sure as I explore even more that something new will find it’s way into my curiosity.  As for now, just perfecting some of the things I’ve already tried sounds like a grand adventure to me.

What’s on your sexual bucket list?