Thursday, December 14, 2006

Yet Another ComeBack

Hello lovelies,

Since finals week is winding down, I now have time to finish my pantyhose memoir, maybe this weekend.

And PS - The pantyhose pictured werent just snagged, they were snagged with a purpose...youll soon understand. :)

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Sheer Delight

Im lazy right the memoir will be forth coming, so for now.....take a good, long look.

Can you tell this memoir will be about pantyhose?

Gadget loves to get envolved in all my dirty little wanderings...

very, very much so...just loves to lend a helping hand.


Monday, November 13, 2006

Lingerie Drawer

As far as sexuality goes, lingerie has a power over me that I cant explain. Maybe its the French bit in me that makes it so hard to resist lace, ribbons, garters and bows on silky little pieces of fabric that cover my feminine graces. Here's a play by play list of all that I own in my little satin lined lingerie drawer.

The mirror hanging in the window behind my bed is not just creative interior decorating: its vantage point is always arousing.


  • Black satin, French styled shelf front corset; I'm a corset enthusiast and am absolutely love the feel of the strong laces pulling at my ribcage, my hips, my waist. I love the tightness of my body and running my hands over the outside of the boning, over the lacing in the back and the swell of my breasts in the front, the lace edging highlighting my pale, pink skin.
  • Red satin/black ruffled underbust corset; I use this little heavenly bit of fabric technology as a garter belt under skirts most commonly with black, lace top thigh highs. The laces slide into little silver grommets, the ruffled edging along the bottom slide over my hips and he top of my bottom.
  • French cut boyshorts; This is my favorite style of panty, very comfortable and very sexy. I love it so much I have about six or seven in this style in a range of colors, sea-blue, pink, black, black with pink polka dots and several of mixed colors. Far from being for a boy, they hug the hips and let the bottom cheeks of the ass be on display, the fabric curving over the globes and accentuating them.
  • Little girl, cotton panties; I love the boy styled cotton y-front panties that are super popular right now. I have white ones, pink ones with the British flag on them, white ones with pink poodles, white with blue polka dots. Who knew it was so comfy being a little girl?
  • Lace circular thong; I'm far from a lover the persistent rub of a thong so very near my kitten for long periods of time but sometimes nothing else will do. If I'm pressed to wear a thong, I love lace circular ones. They don't irritate as much because the hip-band is made of lace and the crotch of them are not string thin, but thin enough to sit smoothly against you. The effect is of being wrapped in a thick strip of lace with a tiny patch of coordinating mesh or satin showing over the kitten. Very oh la la.
  • Pantyhose; Not only do I love any excuse to wear these seemingly old fashioned accessories, but so does gadget ((all will be told next week!). When you finally struggle them over your thighs and hips, they make you feel so nice and sultry, curvy and with perfect legs. I love smoothing my hands over the tight fabric in little circles just for the sake of sensation.
  • Thigh highs; My favorite thigh high variation is a very small, nude colored fishnet with a black lace band at the top. But when I dress up or dress in strictly lingerie for a special boy, black lace tops are my favorite. They provide such contrast to my pale, pink skin and the sheerness only makes you feel more naked when only wearing them with a garter belt.
  • Brasieres; Being blessed with bountiful feminine charms, I love wearing bras and also shopping for them. My favorite one is a black, shelf bra with pink bows and a multicolored braided strap with pink, black and teal. Sometimes a girl just needs a little something frilly.
  • Costumes; So far in my costume collection I have a frilly French maid, a black kitty cat, a purple genie, a 50's poodle skirt girl, a gypsy, a flirty pirate girl, a woodland faerie, and a pink bunny. How's that for a stellar imagination?
So there you have an in-depth collection of my various feminine and lacy wiles.


Sugasm 54

Yet another having an affair with Sugasms...

This week’s best of the sex blogs from the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #55? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form.

This Week’s Picks
My Response to The Government’s Pushing of Celibacy on Adults! (
“We should teach that SEX IS ABOUT PLEASURE.”

Flying in the Face of Censorship
“But these days, the UK is Europe’s frisky frontier, and the hotties are flying in from all over.”

Life as an Adult Cam Worker (
“Experiment with days and times to find out what’s the best time for you to be on live.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Our fearless leader promises he will leave the marathon orgy and be back to blogging soon. In the meantime enjoy one from the vault.
3 Porn Based Urban Legends (

Editors’ Choice
Home Run (

Thought on Sex and Relationships
Water Works (

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Monday, November 06, 2006

Water Works

Inspired by a comment on a previous post, I wanted to expose myself a littler further (if that's even possible at this point) on the subject of female ejaculation, or squirting.

Coral Castle in Florida has this sign which though flawed gramatically, shows its shock factor and whose topic matches perfectly with this female phenom.


Aside from the fact that the medical community at large likes to avoid the topic of female ejaculation, which I can verify is real because I do it...a lot, no one knows very much on the subject and are want to dispel its existence. I've heard from cunnilingus fearing males that when girls squirt they believe it to be urine...its not. People who have researched the topic have said that it likens to be similar to the fluid that the male Prostate gland secretes and that possibly part of its make up is...urine. The thing that bothers me is that I cant see how it could be.

When I squirt, gush, come, whatever, I feel it from deep inside, from the top wall of my insides. Gadget can also verify that I come from deep inside and that when the "come" is investigated, its thick, white and semen. Scary for me when I was about 12 and looking down at my middle finger which had been employed at the task at being inside of my when I flicked my clit to orgasm. When I went to the doctor a few weeks later I asked her if I was totally female because of the squirting episode.

My worries were quelled when she assured me that I was and had always been female and that I (lucky for me and my orgasms) was able to experience the deepest level of orgasm and that sometimes and in some women, "come" was actually issued forth from some secret place.

Well I want to know what the secret place is. Quite a bit actually.

Without this post becoming too medical I just feel like its owed to me by the medical profession that someone find something concrete out. I will donate myself to science, barring some kind of permanent damage being sustained, so that we can all find out why I come like a man sometimes.

I think its quite comical when I see porn vids that show women squirting like theyre pissing all over the place. My experience leads me to believe that it is never as dramatic as youre lead to believe.

Ive been with one girl in my life who actually did that and again it wasnt urine, and there wasnt that much at all. When she came, her whole body quaked and she screamed out like someone was murdering her. Obviously because my tongue and mouth were busy at her kitten, I tasted the resulting "come" and it tasted like her wetness, but maybe just a tad bit more sweet.

The orgasms I feel when Ive experienced the deepest orgasm that results in gushing, peace floods over me and extreme wetness is present there with me in all my calm and peaceful dreaming.

Why must drama come in the way of an incredible event? Always the media seems in the way of the truth, porn dimming the true light of nature and a woman's response.

When you think of a gushing, no one could possibly understand (if one is not a woman) the power of such an event. And as for porn: nature comes first in coming. :)

Monday, October 30, 2006

A Little Bit of Madness

This is the Return of la petite!!!!!

I'm so sorry to all my faithful during my respite for the fact of my horrible and raging collegiate schedule. Life has been madness and I really haven't had any time to do anything but testing and also work and some work and some work and some reporting and then some more work. I love that some have sent wonderful emails, but I'm just great, although busy and now I'm trying to work the site back into my life after a long pause.

The story we'll hit it with was my experience last night, big kisses to my boys and also my girls!

Sometimes a flower of a girl can become a kitten of desire.


Sometimes you just know when you want to go mad, and I don't mean insane...I mean mad in bed. Last night I had this lingering need for contact.

We had gone to a party the night before and were enjoying gadget's day off by fucking hard in the morning, cooking breakfast, buying a pumpkin (Did you know there's a global pumpkin shortage this Autumn?), heading back for lunch. The rest of the night was spent at a Halloween concert and lounging on the grassy expanse while listening to the music as the softly cool weather (Finally some chill in this hell of heat!) wafted over the amphitheater. When we got home I flopped on the couch with the boy and watched Hellraiser to get deeper into the All Hallows spirit.

When I peeled off my pants and jumped into bed, I had a soft grin on my face, my legs twining on bed, ever so invitingly. A laugh was heard from gadget as he knelt on the bed, his hands reaching out for my soft legs. He laid down, pulling my legs over his torso, his hand lighting to my ass to gently pet and rub on it. I cooed as I cuddled up to him and began to fall asleep, so comfortable was I.

All of a sudden my mind screamed out: NO! YOU NEED TO BE FUCKED!

So I looked to gadget ever so lovingly, grabbed for his manliness and licked the head of him, his sigh resounding thickly from his sleepy throat. I licked up and down the shaft lightly with the tip of my tongue, before enveloping his whole cock in my mouth, my lips straining to close over him. I could feel my own body stir, my wetness to come to fruition and the heat to wrap itself in my lower belly. I have this problem you see: sucking gadget's cock makes me as wet as you could imagine, drips and all.

I turned my attention to his lips as his hands fumbled harshly with my thin panties, trying to rip them off. I slipped them off and over my little feet, the cooled air of the A/C touching my most heated and needy flesh. My wet lips touched his as I slipped my knee over his hips, straddling him, my skin stroking his as I feel into position, his cock teasing the cheek of my ass. His hands came down in a few resounding spanks before his strong hands harshly gripped both cheeks, his strength turning me on as he manipulated my flesh.

I slid my hips down, the glistening lips of my wet kitten touching the flaming tip of his cock. I slid back m hips farther, inviting him inside of me as a wicked moan poured forth from my lips, my throat, my whole body. I rode him gently at first, feeling each stroke of his cock inside of me before my wetness grew like a wave, both of us feeling and welcoming the sudden extra lubrication.

I then rode him hard, my hand gripping his shirt tightly to keep myself astride. The deepness of his cock overwhelmed me as his first orgasm rounded out harshly after I begged him to come inside of me. We laid like that, my body collapsed over his, my hair wild and lying out on the pillows as we tried to reclaim our breath.

As I sat up, I realized, his cock was still as hard as it had been fore he had come. What an opportunity for me, my mind clicked in its needs for satisfaction. And though gadget can go as long as I want him and need him to, I love for him to keep his hard on so I can give him as many orgasms as possible in one night, its nearly like a game, the most orgasms wins.

My lips went softly to the head of his cock, stroking it to an even more hard state, my fingertips lightly grazing his balls as his moans filled my ears. I plopped once more on top of him and once his cock was deeply inside of me, I couldn't contain my moaning and I rode him as hard as I could, the bed shaking and creaking on its little wheels against the tile floor. I begged him to come as I rode harder and harder, breaking frequently for the intensity of it. I leaned forward over his chest, my breasts in his face as I slid him in an out slowly. His face tightened as I clung to his shoulders, his cock shuddering inside of me as he came a second time. I giggled and panted, once again lying on top of him, his hands stroking my slightly damp back.

I ripped off my t shirt and surveyed a sight I couldn't believe: gadget's cock was as hard as ever, even after two orgasms. My hungry lips went again to his cock in effort to stroke it gently to rock hardness to one again slide him deep inside of me. I shuddered as I slide down roughly on his cock, my moans streaking against my ears and I rocked back and forth, nearly drained of energy. Moment later my lack of energy buffeted me towards concession as I slid off to watch him come against my thigh.

I laid with him and fell near sleep, my thoughts soft and prodding as the sweat on my skin cooled and left me. My inner beast had wreaked havoc that night as a smile buffeted my lips.

My body had rocked with prenatural strength and fortitude. Sometimes we all need to go a little mad.


Monday, September 18, 2006

The Bikini & The Handyman

I realize that more of what I write about tends to now reflect my present as opposed to my past, as the line of the blog extends.

So I intend to right this....With this post.

Robert was a handyman working around the house for my family doing minimal little things that flashy women like my mother cant lower themselves enough to do. Things such as painting little imperfections in our supposedly immaculately decorated walls, clearing out bugs, doing electrical work, fixing broken whatevers. He was like our house elf who peacefully left each day and left us in quiet reflection in our suburban home.

Water, sky and teenage nudity...What's a bikini for anyway?

Normally I have this attraction to in-home people and it seems a trend seeing as how I've played with my cable guy, a mail man (not mine!), septic tank dude, the pizza delivery guy, a title installer and an electrician. And its not as if I met these men out of my house, they just came to me as I rambled through my corridors humming to myself and -Whoosh!- there's a beautiful man standing before me.

Its really always been like magick to me.

At 16 when I was a virgin though, everything seemed magick to me about my interactions with men I suppose.

So it seemed to reason that Robert too would suffer the plight of my ever-present though at the time subconscious, in-home handyman type person fetish. He wasn't especially witty nor charming, nor was he a very tall or fit person, but his eyes were what got me. His eyes were sparkling green and so piercing that you would actually forget what you were thinking about if you looked into them.

At night I would think of what to do, would I engage him, or would I leave him alone? Would I remain the girlish Lolita, or the Lolita that laid with Humbert and looked into his eyes and made him surrender? I was puzzled and perplexed and after a certain point all of the thinking got to me and I decided to just let it flow fluidly to its end and destiny.

One night when he was finishing something in the backyard, I came out and dangled my legs in the pool watching him tinker in his immaculately organized toolbox. I looked out at the water and the sky and then I realized I heard no more tinkering. I looked to my left, Robert wasn't tinkering, nor was he looking at the water nor the sky - he was looking at me.

There was just a bit of caramel infused light that came in from the large double glass sliding doors that lead to the house to lend a golden color to his already mind numbing eyes. I laughed to cover my surprise and bewilderment and began,

So Robbie, what seems so interesting about boring little me tonight?

His expression became less carefree and more serious as his mind flipped to relay his thoughts,

I just really don't know if I can work for your mom anymore, its just getting more and more difficult.

I laughed, completly ignorant to his meaning,

But you just do normal easy house type things, how could it be getting harder?

He stood and looked down at me where I half lounged by the pool,

No, not the jobs. Having to be around you and not slip up and do something I might regret.

He took the five or six steps necessary to close the gap between us and half knelt in that way construction type guys do, his face just a tad bit above mine, his eyes blaring down at me. He smiled, he closed his eyes in what seemed a prayer and after opening them once again, his huge, calloused hand met my face, his strong hand cupping gently by my cheek and coming down to cradle my chin.

I breathed out deeply and looked at him, his grief stricken face melting in complex thought, his expression unable to relay his mind's lightening retinue of processes. When I smiled he somewhat lightened his eyes, but they were ever as steadfast in their existence of amazement. At least to me.

But it was only he and I.

When his lips touched mine I was so filled with shock that the moment was lost on me and all my careful thought and planning fell out the window like so many fragile eggs. I pulled back once it had ended and looked at him, my fingers quickening to my lips, touching them gently, with disbelief.

It wasn't as if the love of my life had just kissed me and I felt such overwhelming love and power that my life was now complete and I was lost to the interaction, I just never had felt his eyes on me the way I always do with men. I had never felt his deceit as he possessed my body with his fantasies as he plastered the baseboards or rewired the ceiling fans. His mind was like a steel trap that my feminine wiles couldn't penetrate, or least my intuitive ones.

I stood up without a word, pat him on the shoulder, smiled and padded softly to the sliding glass doors. As I slid them open I looked over my shoulder and spoke to him before entering,

Don't worry, this isn't bad, I just have to think on some things.

The next day, I snapped on my black bikini and hoped in the pool before he arrived, knowing that the backyard would be his assignment for the whole day. When he turned the back corner of the house and saw me peacefully lulling about in the pool, he smiled brightly, but then caught himself like a naughty child stealing icing from a freshly baked cake.

I watched him for a while, my arms folded on the side of the pool, supporting my lower half as it floated about in the blue water. He stopped for a moment and presumably feeling my eyes, turned and came over, kneeling again like he had the night before. I hoped he could see the outline of my eyes hidden behind big brown sunglasses, de riguer for the summer bikini clad teen. I reached my damp hand out and pulled his hand down to the water, his fingertips submerging. I turned in the water and treaded and looked over my shoulder, floating over the back tie for him to pull.

My mind quivered as I panicked, thinking what I would do if he didnt get my message when I felt the distinctive tug and then the release as the sodden fabric loosened from my breasts. I swam away and under the water, letting the top fall away over my head as I dove down deep. When my hands touched the bottom of the pool, I kicked up powerfully, my top half popping out of the water like a dolphin, just as I wanted.

I could hear his laughter as I swam back over to him, my half nudity freeing me in the water. Once again I came over to where he knelt and grabbed onto the edge of the pool with one hand, the other hand busied itself with the ties on the side of my bikini bottoms. Once freed, they too floated away, liberated by the sparking water to go on vacation.

I knew it was complete folly to swim naked in my pool in day light an in public, seeing as how my backyard is water and doesn't have a privacy fence. Though I was contented and having fun swimming about like nature intended with a man watching me, cultivating thoughts. I swam to the stairs and pulled my towel up and above the line of water as I stepped out, concealing my nudity and wrapping the soft warmth around me as I walked toward the house.

I looked to the pool and laughed when I saw the two pieces of my bikini in the water, without my body to cling to. Robert watched me laugh and when I motioned for him to follow me, he hesitated but his final urges got the best of him and slowly followed after me as I slipped in to the airconditioned haven of my bedroom.

It felt ceremonial to step into my room, drop the towel on the floor and lie naked on the bed, knowing he was on the way, twenty steps behind. I lay like Cleopatra perhaps, on my stomach with my arms folded beneath my face, my hip slightly turned so that my body curved like a snake. When I saw him looking at me, I felt almost like this was the moment that would send me to hell.

I was damned and my own actions threw me there. Though, I cant say that I regret it.

He sat on the edge of the bed, not touching me, but just looking and taking in the moment. His hands finally slid over my shoulders, down my back, over my bottom to my thighs, my calves and finally his strong hands rubbed at my small feet. I sighed so heavily, my lungs fell beneath me and when I turned, Robbie didn't know what to do with himself. He sighed as well, his facial expression so troubled.

His hands slipped over the tops of my shoulders and down my arms, the moisture still lurking there from the pool water like little beads. He used both of his hands to touched my stomach, caressing my skin delicately, innocently it seemed.

But like most men I've encountered, he began to slip on his control, he wanted more than just grammar school level petting. His lips slipped to mine and pressed so passionately, a sigh bubbling up in my throat behind our kiss. His hands wandered to my breasts and when his lips replaced his hands, he looked up at me with his eyes and I too found myself lost.

I arched my back with the excitement and that's when it snapped. Robert lurched up and stood, almost like he hand been burned, his body tense and seemingly upset. He rubbed his hands over his face, and spoke soft words,

This is bad, this can't happen. I mean you're a girl, you're a beautiful, sexy, womanly little girl. I just cant do this, I'm sorry.

And with that, he went outside, collected his tool box and left my house. I lay with a scrunched and troubled brow. What the hell just happened? My mind wandered and split several times, but the moment had left and now all I felt was bitter resentment and abandon. I showered and thought of why it had failed, the moment hadn't carried him like others before him.

I resigned to not think on it anymore. But apparently Robert did, I never saw him again as he called my mother later that night and told her that he had been given a full time job as an electrician somewhere. My mother had congratulated him and then busied herself with finding another house-elf.

Though, for me it was clarifying, I had found a truly good man....Or so it seemed.

Monday, September 11, 2006

No Rumors

In the past weeks I've been busy with classes but my mind has run rampant with the reasons of why I had always been on the prowl for older men.

I don't try to be naughty, it just seems to happen.

I touched upon the fact that in my tight knit suburban upbringing, gossip and rumors run like wild fire and a girl could lose her innocence to the public eye if one slip up was made. I was in no way going to compromise my social status to where I would be included in the dreaded group of the S-L-U-T-S.

I had powerfully needy erotic thoughts and proclivities that needed to be fulfilled and if sex wasn't really the focus until after I was 16, the power of an encounter with a man, not to mention an older man was remarkably empowering. It wasn't just power, it was an ego-boost that I could attract a confident, determined and already made man. Me, the singing bookworm actress who got straight A's and was seen as a beautiful, though shy, honor roll daughter.

I had sexual power and I didn't ever really need to try to activate it.

That was it, I came into my sexual own in my way, my secret way and that's the way I wanted it to be kept. Secret.

Older men with children, jobs, even wives couldn't spend time dropping their indiscretion to their fellow men, it would not only possibly endanger them, but embarrass them.

If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours.

So at times I kept my late afternoons free for exploring someone's sexual side, or maybe a night where my house was mysteriously empty to talk all night on the phone with men who in my daily life were figureheads. In the night and with desire, people change, their needs change.

Its not to say that my innocence was taken by terribly too many, but sharing your body does not always include that final invasion. I let them take little and gave nothing. I think it was always the height of emotion and the toxic chemical of wrong doing that fueled my activities with some of the men I've encountered.

Sex is a lot, but its not everything. The act of giving and taking was what represented the most for me. The roping and words were what mattered the most to me, and not the many colored options that abounded for the pleasures of the flesh. Not always.

In that misty room, I knelt on the bed, my soft kitten lowered over his soft lips, over his hungry mouth. My hands ran down my body, feeling the light vapor that clung to my heated skin, trailing down my hips to his soft hair, stroking his head as he pleasured me. My whimpers escaped but my mind wasn't in the act, it was in my disbelief that this is what I had wanted, what I had allowed and yet I couldn't connect. I couldn't care. He was lost to me and though as my body shook with a powerful orgasm, I didn't want it. He had already given up his virtuosity and he was a lost man.

Perhaps it was a misled attempt to weed out the bad from the good.

What good man would go down on a 15 year old girl who they taught music to?

Maybe I liked that wickedness, that I could pull the evil from a good man with just my charms and my lips, my body. I provoked the evil in them and let them pour it out over my flesh, feeding that spider-like desire inside of me.

Was I a bad girl?

Was every man I was with a wicked man?

Oh my, but I hate labels...

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Complete Blog Disaster!!!

Someone please pinch me because laptop was hacked, all the passwords stolen and my ENTIRE TEMPLATE WAS DELETED!

It will take a little while to sort it all out seeing as how my entire sidebar, widgets, links, banners, graphics are all deleted. This is more than just a forced redesign, this is pure havok. Please excuse the massive amounts of dust while I sort it all out and I apologize for anyone I link to: your links will be put back up ASAP!
I dont know who did this, but I've been hacking (dont tell the government!) since I was 12 years old and....I get revenge one way or another. :)

Update: 3 hours later:

Finally Ive reprogrammed the majority of the widgets and all of the visual (plus a new corner graphic, oooo sparkly!) so just be on the look out for when I have enough time to re-link to all my favorite blogs, post my feed buttons, intimategifts banner, site link banners, geo map and my stat counter!

Update: 5 hours later:

So basically everything is righted and I've officially given my self carpal tunnel. :) Most of my links are recovered and graphics and links are replaced and on and on. IF I HAVE LINKED TO YOU IN THE PAST BUT YOU DONT SEE YOURSELF IN THE BLOG LINK LISTS, leave your Url in the comments and Ill slap it back up. The problem is that I use the blog as my bookmark page for all the blogs I read...yeah, real genius, I know.


Monday, September 04, 2006

Tumble Me

After enduring a week or two of a horribly hibernating sex drive, my kitten perked up and I found myself in complete longing for one of those tumbles that remind you why you indulge in the first place.

Real women have curves, being a super-woman is also wearing a corset.

I hadn't seen gadget in a day and considering that we see each other nearly daily, this is a long while to be apart. The day before he had remarked that the reason I probably hadn't felt much like hitting the sheets with him was because I didn't feel sexy. I agreed with him immediately.

I've been rather ill lately what with the heinous side effects of my birthcontrol pill and now a UTI from hell with antibiotics to throw me yet more side effects. My sexy level was definitely low and something had to be done about that.

Two hours before gadget was due, I crept into the shower after brushing my hair the old fashioned regimented number of 100 strokes. The beautifully steaming water fell over me as I stepped into the shower, my skin warming to a blush that becomes accentuated when heat is introduced. I hummed as I soaped my flesh with oatmeal soap and thought of all the many things I wanted from him when he stepped through the door. My hands slid down over my shoulders and clicked over the metal bumps of my navel piercing, to my hips and over the slick skin of the tops of my thighs.

I let my hands wander down to my kitten, my soapy hands gliding over the scant hair there and the silky lips that lay shaven between my legs. I lay my head against the steam glistening tile of the wall and felt my soft fingertips smoothing softly, innocently over my kitten. My eyes shot open softly as I made the split second decision to leave it all to gadget.

When I got out of the shower I dropped the towel on the counter and looked at my body in the mirror for the first time in a while. My eyes lit over the swell of my breasts resting on my ribcage, my soft stomach and my generous hips. My face seemed very alive then in the steam streaked mirror, my cheeks flushed and pink, my lips wet and hungry for attention.

I stepped quickly into my room and standing in front of my closet I chose a short white and black plaid pleated skirt and a tight, black tee. No bra, thank you, but a pair of pink, French cut panties. I slipped them all on and after fixing my long hair into feathering, silky locks I streaked some mascara and eyeliner on. Oh la la.

I lounged on my bed, looking through photos of modern day, punk pin ups online ( and dreamed of lying with each and every one of them. Our hands entwining as my small mouth busied itself in the downy folds of their smooth kittens. I sighed as I navigated through the pages of girls, all with their own quirks and personalities thrown into their photos. Beauty is in the eye of the interpreter and I see them as very classic but modern in the way that women have found a place for themselves, even if they are different.

Difference is what makes us uncommon, uncommonly gorgeous.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the headlights of gadget's car pull into my drive, the light becoming dappled as it filtered in through the glass blocks of my window. I skipped to the door and as I was halfway there, the heavy chime of the doorbell clanged through my ears. My hand was tight at the doorknob and beyond the door was my boy, all eyes and lips and the heart that I love so much.

I mmediatly my arms were around his neck, my lips on his lips and his arms tightly around my waist. We kissed with a passion renewed and all the frustration of my sexual needs. I have a love hate relationship with cliches, I love to hate the fact that they're true. Such as this;

Love makes a kiss infinitely better than anything in the whole world.

In my room I knelt on the bed, pulling him to me as our lips pashed harshly against each other. His hands smoothed down and over my back, my arms around his neck and on his face. Rough and sweet and powerful and deadly filled with need. I pulled off my tee, my eyes never leaving his as they dipped down and took their fill of my flesh, inflaming his already fanned desires.

I had this well of sexual frustration and need bubbling inside of me, I wanted to scream out but still he kissed me, holding me closer. My small hand caught in the neckline of his shirt in my desire and pulled as his teeth gently bit on mine, his tongue lighting against my own. Finally he guided me down on my back on the soft comforter, he slipped his hands into my skirt and gently pulled it down my legs. His eyes lingered upon my hips and my panties, the soft little mound hidden by the silken fabric.

He knelt down my the side of the bed and slowly pulled down my panties, his lips lingering on my thighs before his tongue silently slipped beneath the soft folds of my slick kitten. His warm mouth circled over my tortured kitten, the heat and my own wetness fueling my need to be filled and taken. I murmured gently so he could hear me,

Oh baby, just please, just come here.

He frowned a little to have his orgiastic kitten kissing session taken away, but I needed him and his huge, swollen cock also told me a story of his need. As he knelt between my legs, his body pressing down on mine, my hips moved in small waves in need beneath him. Still a cry was held deep inside my chest, just trying to escape for frustration's sake.

Tears of relief nearly sprang from my eyes as he held me and slid deeply inside my needy kitten, his skin meshing with mine it seemed. His motion was fluid and strong as he moved within me. His hands grabbed at my ass, pulling me tighter into our embrace as my legs snaked and locked around his waist. My arms held him as tightly as I could manage and with his eyes looking down into mine, the moment became more than blissful.

My big brown eyes started into his imploringly, my mind ran with streams of begging that only a needy kitten can produce,

Please, harder. Please, deeper. Yes, take me as you wish.


I love the moment when I know he's about to come and when he does I'll feel the quickening of his thrusts and then his release deep inside of me. His come inside of me, hot and hard and fast. I looked into his eyes as his quickening came to be and yet again I felt that urge of emotion and need.

He says I make a face, a satisfied face when I feel him coming deep within me. It is satisfaction, it is my joy. Not only do I feel marked and happy that I feel enough about him to actually desire to have his come inside of me, but that our coupling has brought about his final ecstasy.

What can I say? Its an in love girl thing. I know...I don't get it either.

After things had settled, I felt complete and awake and still hungry. I felt as if this was the culmination of all of my sexual exploits and adventures, to actually feel this deeply fulfilled. Maybe its the great sex, maybe its the intense love, maybe its the actually functioning and supportive relationship. But I do know its result, my pleasure and happiness and that's what I've always been looking for.


Sugasm #45

My first BDSM feature! Wah hoo!

The best of the sex blogs this week by the bloggers who blog them. Spotlighting the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #46? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Foreplaying pool (
“‘What say we make this interesting,’ I began while circling the table looking at the available shots, ‘If I win, I get a kiss.’”

All Tied up (part 6): The End (
“To cut a very long story short (well, not quite that short), the evening finished with me cumming all over Thirty’s beautiful body.”

Tableau of sensuality (
“Use your other hand to explore further South… tickle that sensitive area around my navel… stroke the silkiness a little further below… and then you’ll find that silky soon becomes slick, plump and moist.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Fred Wilson, Venture Capital and Pornography (

Editors’ Choice
Sexbit - Fundraiser (

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

BDSM and Fetish
Caught: Domination (


Monday, August 28, 2006

Longing: Summer

When apart, lovers can miss one another, yearn for each other's bodies and deal with minds running rampant with thought of past trysts, adventures and hot, sweaty body parts. The time apart is also good in some ways because it cleans your desire to make it fresh.

Its sad but true: absence makes the heart (and kitten) grow fonder.

Why is my world always so distorted?

I love MySpace for its sheer level of lame and the fact that so many people have obsessions with it. I have not got an obsession, but its fun to trip upon old friends you grew up with and mentally rewarding for your ego when you realize an ex has found you on there and is pondering over your latest photos.

The gadget and I are "friends" on the site and its kind of a fun game to comment back and forth even though we see each other most every day. When I didn't see him today I made good use of boy-free time and finally finished the redecoration of my room and took care of other home-related things. Though I was busy, I still missed him and after speaking with him after his work day was over, it made it a little worse.

I came online after all my initial online-work (I have a lot to do w/ all the programming updating I do not only for this site but for other people who I work for $$$) and found he'd left a comment on my page and my heart trilled.

I was sweet, lovely, romantic and Oh-so-Gadget of him, also it had a fair bit of sexy to it...

I am here alone tonight and I cant stop thinking about running my fingers through your hair and squeezing your perfect tiny hands. It feels like a part of me isn't with me here tonight.


I also, cant stop thinking about that dress. MMMmmm.

I love when you can capture the mind an libido of a man long after he leaves you. And in this case, it makes it all the more sweeter that I have his heart too. On the flip side, he has mine too and though its a bit scary, its also quite lovely.

Also....he owns my libido.

I feel myself flipping to a quite amorous frame of mind as I sit here in the bluish glow from my monitor monster. I feel like dipping my hand down the front of my loose, ripped, low rise jeans and down under the hipband of my silky black panties and kindling a fire in my kitten...

I feel like being alone though, and I'm so excited about the new semester of classes unfurling before me that started up last week. I live up to my geek-ette titling with the sheer fact that after I decided to take the whole summer off for some brain relaxation, though soon after I wished I hadn't and that I had classes and deadlines to look forward.

As the summer closes though, I'm recounting all that happened during the summer and even considering how busy my summers are (though this one is the first time I've stayed in my own country and then come back again for about 10 years) this one was quite an adventure in a way, or ten:

  • Decided to bite the bullet and start dating (and fucking) again for the first time since October 05.
  • I met my ex and then dumped him for being A)boring B)boring in bed C) BORING!
  • I got a job working for a few websites doing programming, reviewing and general geek-ette duties.
  • Increased the size of my sexy toy chest by about a ton.
  • Baby lizards have invaded my water-front house! Eeek!
  • Worked on layout and profiles for the tiny newspaper I work for. And took crap, a lot.
  • Met my current boyfriend, dated him, fucked him and then fell in love.♥
  • Got on birthcontrol pills (story soon to follow, last Tuesday was the first "safe" day!).
  • Decided that my life is actually pretty wonderful and that bad things happen constantly but you need to keep on truckin because every road is long and yet my hope is strong...
  • Looked at my legs and said "Holy fuck, I have sexy legs!" (this really, really and truly happened!) and then decided to post a bunch of photos for the site and bill them out in upcoming memoirs and posts. (lucky you!)
  • Realized I'm the only thing keeping my family together and I like that...Well kinda.
  • Finally (but not least!!!!) had 49 orgasms! Yay!
So summer love came true for me this year, lizards have taken over my home and my legs decided to make me realize their sexy factor - all in all a great season.

I'm looking forward to a very rewarding and sexy Fall and then a very hot a heavy (and maybe snowy white!) Winter; all full of love, sex, orgasms, posts, photography and of course my blend of debauchery and intelligence mixed up with breasts, handcuffs and spankings.

With Autumn fast approaching on September the 23rd, where has your summer gone?

Summer loving had me a blast, Summer loving, happened so fast!

Sugasm #43

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Leading the pack is the top 3 posts voted by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #44? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

Top Voted Posts
Skinny Dipping (
Pretend Forest (
Why I’m Happy With “The Cleavage Situation” (

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Brian Griffin on Porn (

Random Selection
Self Love - Njoy (

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

BDSM and Fetish
The Honeymoon Part IV (
Hot Dog Anyone??? (
More of the same later (
Sometimes you just need a spanking (

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
A bit more on anonymity and outery while contemplating outlawery (
How To Get Great Phone Sex (
My Pavlovian Pussy (
Night with Vodka Tonic (

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Breaking the ice, part 2 (
Coming down gently (
The dark basement of dirty secrets (
Five times in two days (
The grind (
Highway of Light (
Kiss the Girl- One Last Call for Alcohol (
Me and Ebony on the Hood of a Car (
Tales From Under The Desk, Part 4 (
The World Is Fuckable (
Yes, Please! (

Monday, August 21, 2006

Caught: Domination

In my city, its bustling, its frantic, its a party 24/7 and people come from all over the world to sample what it has...Its a very public city. Everyone sees one another...everywhere.

He caught my eye. I didn't know him.

He caught my eye and dragged his eyes down my body. Over my primped cleavage meant for my boyfriend, over my arms to my delicate wrists, down my back which was nude to the world by a halter top. Over my hips and down my ass to my thighs in skin tight low riding jeans and down to my small feet encased in tiny black heels.

He knew me for what I was. He caught me.

His slave was at his side, dressed like a whore, collared like a pet and whining like the puppy she was to him. He was stern, she was enthralled. He was dismissive, she was timid.

He caught me. He caught my judgment. Of him. Of his slave.

I caught him.

At the casino a comedian was headlining that Gadget loved so I dressed cute, slapped on some tiny heels and we headed out into the rainy twilight to find the laughter we knew was hidden somewhere. As we walked beneath the cloud protected sky and over the decorated cement I felt such comfort with his big hand holding my tiny one.

We stood in line for tickets and the sky became more heavy and I prayed for it to stay bated until my glamorous hair and I were safely within the theater. I could feel heat behind me, not like fire, but like a gaze. The fire intuitive women like myself feel when a man is staring at us, taking our bodies with their eyes and twisting it to fantasies in their minds.

I felt this fire behind me and when I turned I saw him, with his eyes afire for me. And then I saw her. Her eyes were afire for him.

Her hair was dark and she was collared, she was corseted, in a miniskirt and break-ankle heels all topped off with street walker make-up and a pet's enthralled gaze. She belonged to him. I could feel it and he knew I felt it.

Its not paranoia, its the energy. If you've been under the whip of a Dom, you can feel them around you, you can feel their power over their slaves, their pets. I can always feel it.

My neck twisted back forward and I pressed harder into Gadget, he felt the pressure and looked down at me with a smile. He didn't know.

He wasn't aware that the whore in me had been spotted by a Dom and my hatred bubbled up inside. Panic flushed into my cheeks beneath my perfectly applied foundation and my teeth bit maniacally at my rouged lips.

I heard him speaking to her like he would in his dark home, but out in the light where I'm supposed to be safe from all the darkness and I felt the heat in my wrists as if I was bound. I felt the heated whip of leather against my raw, red and abused skin, the bruises bubbling up from deep inside my flesh.

I took a deep breath and looked at Gadget as he made his transaction with the coiffed ticket girl and realized that my skin was my own and it was perfectly pure and untouched. I owned myself. My skin has healed and has become rosy pink like always and smells of soft flowers after I come from the heated water of my shower.

I pulled gently on Gadget's wrists once we were safe and away from the Master and his slave, safe from the setting sun and in the lobby with others,

I felt one of them. I saw him and he had one. He owns her.

Gadget looked at me and held me close and kissed me quickly, understanding and settling my nerves in his passive and beautiful way. I felt his love and I felt safety. But most of all...

I felt as if I belonged with him, but belonged to no one, and that was the best feeling of all.


Thursday, August 17, 2006

More Varied & Active

Sometimes I don't care that I and most of the world would consider me a slut.

For me the word doesn't mean things that are so bad, not the things that would pop to your mind when someone next to you muttered in your ear about a girl passing you, "Bro, she's a slut." and then anyone hearing the comment passes dirty judgment on that girl, her kitten and her HIV status.

No, to me its something far off of that.

Little girls shouldnt steal their boyfriend's workshirts...

For me its very different because I've made my bed and I'll lie in it....And have with a few people, more than I actually can list on one hand, or two. I can see a girl who makes choices not based on social appeal and judgment, but on her own emotions, her own body and her own pleasure. Her own life and freedom.

I spoke with my cousin on the who turned twenty-two and the dreaded "S" word came up in the lines of dialogue and witty repartee. She was nervous because she had now slept with four men and wasn't sure how to feel about herself, her "slut status" if you will. I bit my nail and was glad we were only connected my wireless cell phone signals floating through the atmosphere versus actually sitting face to face. I let her know that four wasn't very much and when she asked me how many men I'd slept with, I told the truth.

She thought I was lying.

I countered her doubt and yet...

She still thought I was teasing her.

When finally, and achingly she believed me she got very quiet but then piped in with a story of her favorite sex memoir and started to recount it. Because all sluts like me love to hear sex stories, oh yeah.

Basically, the story was a let down and ended with her fucking a long standing high school friend after a chance encounter and reunion in a locked closet....In an empty house. How exciting is that? No one is there to catch you. Yes, closets seem like a fun place to be diddled but...Only if there's a chance of being caught.

But this would be impossible in an empty house in a locked closet.

I sighed and picked at my nail polish, trying not to think of all the more interesting things I could talk about but I demurred because they would flip her out seeing as how her libido has all the spice of an ice cube.

What would I tell my applepie cousin?

Could I talk about the four girl orgy I had at a house party in an outer suburb of London one summer? The sweaty palms sliding over heaving breasts as giggles and moans issued through the now steam and heat filled attic.

Musty sweet smells filling my senses as a girl lapped at my swollen and dripping clit, my orgasm pounding on the doors of my self control. My scream pounding to the very walls of the ancient 5 story town house as my body spasmed its way through its third orgasm within the hour and my body was reduced to a panting, sweaty and super-sensitive mass of naked breasts, thighs and a very tired kitten.

My body warmed afterward by the cuddling bodies of three other girls like an International lasagna. All of us a different nationality like global friendly poster-children for lesbianism: America, England, Brazil and Russia.

I couldn't talk about that with her. I couldn't tell her those sweaty details and be able to live with myself afterward.

Could I relay the time I let my blind friend go down on me because he could smell my wet kitten from his bedroom door as I stood waiting for him? Instead of leaving for a concert, he pulled me into his room and down onto the bed, kneeling before me as he gently pulled my panties down, commenting on the sweet smell of my most-feminine asset.

His lips soft and wet and hot and burning into me as he kissed my soft, wet and sacred lips. My arching back as I came in his face after his tongue swirled gentle stars on my clit and his strong hands held me down. His compliments hitting every sense aside from sight:

You taste so fucking wonderful, my lord, so wet. You smell like a dying flower in a cold room. Your moans are so lovely, so beautiful. Your skin is so soft and smooth, almost like a baby's, perfect.

I couldn't tell her that, I couldn't tell her I let my friend just go down on me without even taking me on a date first and having a first kiss. I don't think I ever kissed him on his mouth....Hmmm.

No, I couldn't tell her that.

Could I tell her about the time I stripped down lasciviously when I knew one of our family's friends was watching me through my half closed bedroom door, looking him in the eye the entire time? At 15, I was feeling that I was fodder for the male mind and sex drive, at 41 he saw me as a prime sexual being. I listened to the smooth music on my stereo and at times briefly closed my eyes and let my hips sway from side to side as I peeled another item of clothing from my sun-heated body. I felt his eyes burning my skin like a curse of lust and when I pulled my bra down over my forearms and his hand went to his mouth. I blew him a kiss and motioned for him to come inside.

His face was resolutely serious and focused like a surgeons. I smiled and when he kissed me on the side of neck and I moaned deep within my body and audibly. I knew he would long for me far away when he was by himself and that he might touch myself. I knew that when I thought of that fact later when I was alone, I would touch myself too.

No, that would push the limits of her morality and I couldn't do that to her, now could I? No, I wouldn't.

Could I expose to her the time I went down on my ex boyfriend's new girlfriend because she and I both knew she was a lesbian but was just toying with him because he had hurt me? It wasn't my plan, but she said it would be perfect and would love to extract some sex-related justice on him. She planned it so that he would walk into her apartment as I was going down on her, my tongue deep inside of her and my sense of flavor tasting her sweet and slightly salty dew. She came before he got there and we had to start again.

I didn't mind.

I don't think she did either.

I sucked gently on her super-sensitive and swollen clit as her back arched and she cursed out against god and he walked in, his mouth agape and his expression hurt and shocked. She came again, looking into his face.

And when she came so hard against my slick lips and slippery tongue, I looked into his face too.

No, that wouldn't do to be such a bad girl and push her sense of sexual self slip into darkness and crawl away from her into the abyss of morality. That would be like punishing her for having less than a sensual and passionate sex life and pushing that fact that I had a more varied and active sex life and drive than she could ever hope for (to borrow a line from fellow blogger, Jefferson).

So instead I yawned into the phone and spoke quickly and animated,

Oh my god cuz, you're such a naughty girl!

She giggled and assented. Too bad for her she hasn't even begun to realized what life can hold for you. What sex can give you and what you can take from other people with their permission, assent and sometimes, even hard determination.


Monday, August 14, 2006

Highway of Light

Being a dancer when I was younger not only lent me grace and a love of performance and attention, but it sculpted my legs into those of a 1950's Pin-Up girl.

Men seem to dig the gams.

Last night I went with gadget and another friend of ours to a jazz club and listened for a few hours, hung out, drank a bit and watched the groupie girls with tiny skirts flutter their breasts around before the musicians. It was fun.

Though I got tired of the people, the loudness and had gadget and our friend take me down to the car and inevitably home. Walking down the narrow, wooden stairs in 4 inch heels that were affixed with merely cotton straps wound and tied around my ankles was an adventure in itself.

In the car I sprawled my legs before me, my heels on the dashboard not remembering that I had a sex-responsive man seated next to me operating a vehicle, which at the moment I was a passenger of. Gadget's eyes boggled out of his head and he relayed to me a few facts about the night and my sex appeal,

All night I've been staring at your legs and your tiny feet in those heels. Oh my God baby. That skirt drives me crazy, absolutely crazy. Look at you, god.

His hands slid over my thighs and down to my ankles to the tight, black cotton straps and over my small feet to my pinkly manicured toes. The night and the lights of our bright city passed by on both sides, burning points of light yet we held such concealed privacy inside of the speeding, steel carriage in which we sat.

I leant my head back on the seat, one slim fingertip rubbing along my bottom lip, feeling the sensations of his warm hands on my chilled skin. His hand pushed my skirt further down my thigh to my lap, my black panties showing under the hem of the black skirt.

His fingertips slid briefly over the soft black patch of cotton covering my kitten, but they slipped back to my legs. My legs were his toys now, the kitten could wait for later. His hands drew maps over my skin, his trail snaking at his own pleasure. He slapped the side of my thigh lightly to hear the strong slap, to feel the firmness. I hummed lightly in my throat, listening to the music that played blindly through the car as he ravished my legs,

'You can have it if you really want,
You can grasp it if you have the thought,

Feel your power that is deep within,
Are you ready?
On your mark begin,

We should take time out to really love...'

Lenny Kravitz pumping his sultry sound through my head and over my skin as sensation burned through me. I saw the burning stars of light around me, the blue led from the stereo, the sound of sex flowing from the speakers and his hands all over me.

All was burning, all was heat and sound.

I was his distraction and he was my full attention, my body my full occupation, feeling it and what it was giving me. What his hands were giving me. Snakes of sensation over the silk skin of my legs, the heels accentuating the moment.

At the house, he kissed me in a whirl in my room, his arms directing me, turning me and pushing me down toward the bed. My legs went up, my panties came off and his hot mouth met my dripping pink kitten. Explosions of heat and power and I could feel all my nerve endings crashing into one another. Yet again he took my body, made it his own, and then threw it back for me to feel like the death of light and the rebirth of the sun.

His mouth burning me and my heels still on.


Tech Tags:

And on yet another note of loveliness: Jefferson, my new love and fantasy fuck-buddy featured my memoir "Bound by the Night" on a Fleshbot Roundup!!! Whoot!!! You can see the roundup here. I guess my handcuff tomfoolery is highly regarded by my fellow nymphobabes on the net, yay! Big kisses to sexy J.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Bound by the Night

With so much going on in my life including a new semester of Uni starting next week, working at the newspaper, worrying about family issues & trying to have as much meaningful sex with my boyfriend as much as possible...I'm feeling a little stressed.

Though luckily for me, my boy knows how to snap it out of me.

Someone has been a very, very oversexed little girl...

Though I'm no longer in the intensive BDSM lifestyle, I still love a hard spanking sessions, having my ankles and wrists bound with my ass sticking up in the air, my face pressed to the soft sheets. It makes me the best la petite possible, its sort of like the "Refresh button" for my sex drive.

Last night as I lay on my bed with Gadget talking about his current issues with his work space, I interrupted our serious chat with some well-reasoned thoughts,

I really would love for you to press my shoulders to the bed and spank me until my bottom is red. Maybe I can stand in front of you after and thank you by doing that thing you love, the dance thing.

He laughs in that way that isn't really laughter but shows his amusement and interest. I hear him fumbling through the dresser drawer as I rip off my tight tee and kneeled on the bed in my white and blue polka dot panties. I can feel the air pressing on me; warm, heated by expectation and lust.

When he stands next to me, as I kneel, I'm shorter than he, like always but now I feel a smallness, a need to do what he wants, what he needs. The cold metal of the black steel handcuffs presses to my delicate wrists, the tightness of it as the little clicks tighten against me, denting into my flesh. His voice surrounds me,

You've been so naughty. Naughty girl.

He holds the chain of the cuffs as he uses his other hand to tilt my face up to him, his mouth wet and hot and as kisses me with renewed passion. His voice is soft, his own, though harsh in my ear,

You don't think I'm going to go easy on you, do you?

My pulse quickens, my throat constricts and I can feel the need of his hands on me, to have my body possessed just like my mind is right now. His hand drops from the chain of the cuffs and his large grip extends around my long hair, I can feel the tips of it swishing over my ass as he gathers it into one hand and tugs, my face exposed now helplessly to him, his hungry mouth on my mine.

He helps my shoulders down to the bed with one hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder blades. I have an internal chorus going on inside my mind, so many sensations and so, so much need. He grabs a hold of the chain between the cuffs and tugs them so that my arms are fully extended and my hands are touching my panties.

His hand is harsh as it smacks against my ass. The thin cotton of my panties does nothing to shield me as he spanks my sit-spot over and over again. Tiny tears slip from my closed eyes as I see each heated spank and the corresponding pain as colors in my mind.

I slip to sub space as the spanks get harder. When his strong hand smacks my upper thigh right near my kitten I wail out and crumpled into a little ball on the black silk sheet. He kisses my back as he undoes the cuffs, they seem to get tighter and tighter with each tear-filled jerk of my body. Fear fills my mind but its quelled quickly by Gadget's calming voice telling me that he loves me. He lies next to me and pulls my body like a rag-doll to him, his arms encircling me as I try to sort my mind for the better.

After he kisses me like the broken little child that I am, admiring my tear streaked face and declaring my beauty, I get on all fours and kiss him deeply. His hands slip over me and I can feel his rock hard cock ever deepening in its arousal. I take a pillow and drop it onto the floor beside the bed and look up at him, my eyes heated and on fire in the candle-lit darkness.

When he slides to me, I lick the tip of his cock gently, sucking shallowly on its swollen head. I stand and wrap my arms over his shoulders and round the broad back of his neck. My breasts press to his upper chest, his chin and mouth dangerously close to the two soft pillows of flesh. He moans quietly as his arms wrap around my waist, as his hands smooth over my back and down over my ass.

I turn around and press my back to him, my ass wiggling around sultry on his thighs, his swollen cock. I take his hands and slide them over my breasts, my smooth stomach and the tops of my thighs. His soft noises are making me so wet, our body contact is making my mind dull and escape into the sensations and the emotions. I bend over, showing him my ass, my hands touching the floor as I wiggle and dance about in front of him, his hands never leaving my flesh.

My warm skin flames into a fire as I slide my body down, my strong legs bending so that I hold a squat in front of him, my arms resting on his thighs like a great armchair, his hands seeing to warm further as they grip my breasts. As he starts to moan in a pleading, soft way, I turn and drop down, my mouth on his cock.

He leans back as I look up into his eyes, my lips around him, my tongue swirling on his flesh inside my mouth. I suckle gently as I move my mouth up and down over him, his flesh ever hardening. I can feel the tell-tale signs of his cock head swelling and joy floods my mind as I reach down into my panties and rub my dripping clit. His come floods my mouth as my fingertip busies itself on my swollen clit. I hold my lips tight around him as the final spasms rattle his body. And when I pull back, resting on my heels, I swallow his come as he watches.

He comes to me as I kneel before him and wraps his arms around me, kissing me deeply, his voice thick and nearly child-like,

There are no words to describe how wonderful that was. You're the best baby, you're so wonderful.

I can feel myself letting go of my insecurities and become that sensual being that I would only let myself become when a man and a fuck didn't matter to me. I can understand myself better when I look at myself as he does and as the world does.

Life gets better when you just let yourself go.


Monday, August 07, 2006

Wham. Bam. Thank You Man.

Its not that I'm a sexual predator and its not that I have no emotions and its not that I'm emotionally detached from sex completely.

Sometimes I like to ride my guy's face, get fucked hard from behind and then walk away and....Be by myself.

I see London, I see France, I see la petite's...Oh my goodness!

In order to be addicted to sex, you have to love the chase and capture more than the sex, its like a high and a release, but its not about just the sex. Its about confidence and the need to be needed, all the time and usually by many, many people.

In that way, I'm not a sex addict.

But I am a nymphomaniac.

I can tell by the sheer fact that if I don't get fucked, or fucked as much as I want or have a crashing orgasm, I pout like a bad, grumpy little baby. I think about sex all day and all night and I actually fall asleep to fantasies, its the only way I can ever fall asleep. Needless to say, sex is very important to me.

Lately, Gadget and I had a little bit of a sexual hiatus. Not to say that we weren't fooling around and trying to get it going. It just never carried itself on happy little wave of sexual fruition. Kitten became increasingly agitated by being eaten out, being riled up, not having an orgasm and then getting moody and not wanting to be fucked.

Maybe its just me, but kitten and I like to orgasm and then be fucked, mostly very hard and mostly in succession.

But maybe that's just me.

So last night I was so happy after planting my kitten over Gadgets face and riding his tongue for several minutes that I came so hard that it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming and alerting my family who were playing pool on the other side of the wall. After I came, he continued licking at my clit, further bringing my orgasm crashing on. I slumped over on my side as Gadget spoke in my ear,

Mmm, you taste so good and you came so hard baby. Oh my god. Did you like that?

When Gadget says "Oh my god" you know he means business...Because he's a Buddhist. I nodded sleepily as my womb twitched and came back to reality. I was filled with great joy and utter completion from the fact that once again, I can orgasm from only Gadget working his tongue over my clit.

As he bent over my ass and licked at my rosebud of an asshole, he asked me a wonderful question,

Baby, where do you want me? Your mouth, your ass? Kitten?

Just as I choose to have my ass plundered, I realized that I needed a good rooting in kitten to reaffirm that my sex drive is back and up to par. I got on my knees and offered my ass to him, tipping my hips so that he could see my pink, dripping and swollen kitten,

No baby, take me now.

Without hesitation, he aligned himself with my ass and pressed the tip of his prick to my kitten. After such a hard orgasm, I was all tight and it took a bit of a struggle for him to gently slide into me. I love the moment he slides inside of me and I tip my hips up so that I can feel the head of his cock slipping against the deepest walls of my pussy. Love it.

He pressed his cock as deep as possible inside of me and ground against me, his hips moving in circles as he reached under me and rubbed my clit gently with his fingertip. I love the feeling of being filled after and over a deep and blinding orgasm and then he takes his time to try to make me come again. So touching. So bloody hot.

I leant down my shoulder and reached beneath me and took over the attention to my clit, my fingertip sliding in the little gully on the left side of my clit that I love so much and which can bring me to orgasm in moment as he slid his cock into me solidly.

We both love it when I beg him to come, his rhythm falling to a certain beat before it looses all tempo and his cock splashes forth in a rhythm of pure nature as he comes deep and hard inside of me. I hate condoms (the mutual testing has already happened and the pill is soon to be a part of our sex life, so for now its condoms), but for the meantime we can pretend he comes deep and hard inside of me.

After he came he laid down and wrapped his arms around me, my thighs pressing tight on my now happily plundered kitten. But I didn't want to cuddle, I didn't want to feel the sweaty press of his body. For once. For once I wanted to take my perfectly sated body and go watch a movie, by myself, in be-jeaned glory and sigh happily as I celebrated my orgasm.

I always celebrate OUR orgasm...But for once this was mine and I was celebrating on my own with a horror film and a glass of green tea. For once it was Wham, Bam, Thank you MAN.


Sugasm #41!

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Want in Sugasm #42? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

Mr. Sugasm himself
73% of Americans Hate Porn (

NSFW Pics (and a Podcast)
Amanda (
It’s Thursday! Happy HNT! (
Nora Marlo self portraits (
Splish Splash (photos/podcast) (

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Does Size Matter? (
Insatiable: How to Date a Nympho (
Oh Kegels, How I Love Thee (
On My Way to Sex Rehab (
Rockin’ – Not Humpin’ – In the Free World (
Straight, Male, Talking About My Sexuality (
Take Naked Pictures of Your Girlfriend (
Thank God for Sex (
The thinky and the kinky: qualities of attraction (

Film Fridays 33 - Internet Dating (
The Top 30 Most Annoying Things About Porn (
Why Don’t I Ever See Porn Stars On the Golf Course? (

Sex Work
Crossover Fetish Subs are Twice as Weak (
Smoking Fetish (

More Sugasm
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Erotic Writing and Experiences
8/1 by Rex: That Wonderful Ass (
Aerosmith (
Clothing Optional (
The First ‘Threesome’ (
F♥ck Bunny (
Last night (
A Most Proper Text Message (
No Niceties (
Statuesque (
Through the Green Door (
Voyeuristic Dream (
Yes. I Like Girls. (

I LOVE THE SUGASM! Can you say la petite has been in the Sugasm FOUR times in a row? Yay!