Sunday, April 30, 2006

Why Dont You Come When I F*ck You?

Biology is a pissy mother fucker, and so are guys who live and breathe for the vaginal orgasm in their woman that never, well, comes.

In my biology text book when I was fourteen, it told how most women under the age of twenty-two cant have vaginal orgasms during sex because of the fact that the nerves havnt fully developed in their genitals. Though it also said that clitoral orgasm can be possible as early as age nine in females. I also found, that this is why women should go to a Pediatrician versus a general practice doctor until that time. Interesting? Yes. Shocking? Yes. Sexy? No.

Kyle was a really nice guy and the youngest guy I had ever fucked since my very first time. I was amazed that I was actually attracted to him, that I actually wanted his hands on me. For me, a guy of twenty was very young, still is very young. I never felt that consuming passion when we had sex, when he touched me or bit me. In fact, I always felt like giggling when I was intimate with him. It was like the High School boyfriend that I never wanted, it was truly cute. We fucked plenty of times, in every which angle, on every conceivable piece of furniture, in every way a woman can be fucked but - no orgasm. Sure, if he licked me down, I could get there, I could go well beyond getting there and come like a little baby, crying out and panting. But when he fucked me? No dice. This would be distressing if I always came when a guy fucked me, but I have never had an orgasm by cock-stimulation alone.

My idea, and my boyfriend's, is that Im waiting for my soulmate. I may not be a true virgin, but my body is a virgin to the true orgasm all women live for. That hard and pulsing one that originates from deep inside, from a woman's true place. But until then, I continue to frustrate men to no end.

Sure, Kyle could get me to come around his cock if he rubbed my clit when he took me from behind, whispering dirty phrases in my ear, hissing his lust into my mind. One day after fucking me for more than an hour, and "still no cigar", he flopped off of me and over onto his back and started whining,

"Why don't you come when I fuck you? Its like this nightmare; fucking and fucking and fucking and it never ends."

His voice was like that of a kindergardener, sad, frustrated and needy.

"I thought, that would be any man's dream."

I told him dejectedly, I then sighed and twirled my hair in my fingers.

I was remembering a comedy act by Margaret Cho in which she explains a similar situation. Her man is complaining of the same coital dysfunction: "Why don't you come when I fuck you?". Her to-the-point answer is "Because...I can't come when you fuck me.", her voice very childlike and forlorn.

It's as simple as that, damn it. I cant come when you fuck me!

It seems very BDSM-esque, but I get fulfillment from when a guy whose fucking me comes hard and deep and I'm just filled by him. I love it. Maybe that's a bit co-dependent of me, but I love when a guy orgasms so hard inside of me that he cant open his eyes for a few minutes. I love to be held on to like its life or death and feeling their last moments, their final release. I'm OK with not coming during sex, just take care of me, touch me, lick me, finger me, bite me, make me come that way. I don't mind, I just want to have a good time. I just want you to enjoy it too, I loved to be fucked: orgasm or not.

Kyle just couldn't handle it, it was like I had to spoon-feed him platitudes just to keep him from complaining. Wouldn't most men just die of happiness from not having to try to make a woman come? Wouldn't they just like to be able to be selfish for once? I'm very lucky to have found, for the most part, very attentive, very passionate lovers who were very concerned for me, my pussy and my orgasms.

Sadly for Kyle though, our dream-like near-High School-esque relationship ended and he moved away, never having to deal with my non-orgasming pussy ever again. Perhaps it was best for us both, because the only whiny babies I can handle are my little baby sisters.

Ive had numerous talks with my boyfriend on the topic of orgasms, sex and my vaginal maturity. At eighteen, I'm still apparently four years from realizing my orgasmic potential. It doesn't keep us from dreaming that our love making will awaken something because we're still holding onto the soul mate hope. Maybe true love can wake my sleeping orgasm? Maybe true passion and his genuine unselfish nature and overflowing passion can open me up to him and my possibility.

Until then, I can't come when you fuck me, damn it. +Sigh+


Saturday, April 29, 2006

Fuck Puppet Guilt

Though Ive spent the majority of my teens seducing older men, letting them seduce me and being an overall mostly debauched little girl - I still have a tender little heart. My boyfriend and I are contemplating our future, which is getting serious rather quickly, and its making me unbelievably joyful, hopeful and lusty. But it lingers - and by "it" I mean my past. My attitude to fucking, my casuality with my body, my seeming lack of respect for myself ((which is really the case)) & my love of raunchy things in general. It seems amazing to me that I can live with a man who loves me, who will have me whenever the need or desire happens upon you and you dont have to be ashamed of it. Not that I feel ashamed of myself, its just the tiny twinges I feel from moral pressure that has hung over my head my entire life. I had one of those sweet and lady-like grandmothers who always reminded me of my posture, holding my head high and placing one foot before the other while walking. And yes, I am truly grateful to her in nearly every single arena.

Sometimes I feel as if maybe I should have acted differently, maybe I should REALLY have kept my virginity until marriage. Especially I feel so after meeting my boyfriend, I wish I was this glistening a pristine woman. But then I believe that my personality, my beliefs have all been impacted by my decisions, by the things Ive done. I am my mistakes, I am my triumphs, I am a woman. I truly believe had I not gone through all of the events of my life, even the terrible life crushing ones that broke my heart and reduced me to a crying puddle, I would not be the person who my boyfriend loves with such a passion and with such hope and need. I can honestly say that I love myself, I can honestly say that Im glad I have gone through so much pain - because my pain is part of me.

So I have fucked men, I have fucked men whom at times I didnt know very well and I have made myself who I am today. I see hope, I also see struggle, I see possibility and Ive always just wanted to be happy. It seems like Ive always been chasing happiness. Ive had moments of intense, though fleeting happiness and pleasure and all because of the things I been through.

There are so many different degrees of human sexual expression: fucking, sex, making love, a good pounding, the quickie. Theyre all so different, they all make you feel such different things. It was always amazing to me that I could enjoy my body and the body of another without feeling any pain, attachment or a huge wave of guilt. I tested it for a few years, and I was always amazed. I never let them touch that little string within me that makes my heart resonate - it was a very reassuring thing for me. I needed to know that I could be independnet of people so that I could never be hurt against my will, that I could never be damaged without permission. Could it be that now, I need to let go of that fear? Could it be that faith is on the agenda? Faith and love? Not just fucking and sucking and faceless orgasms?


Love Lines #1

I love having the time to develop this new blog im cooking up with all my little adventures, and misadventures. So Im making room a few cute little features, like this one: Love Lines. A few paragraphs about things that turn me on, people that turn me on - things of that torrid nature. Can you dig?

I love seeing married women. I love it when they kiss their husbands, the way theyre so easy with them, the way they can share something in their glance. For all my love of men, I can always slip into a fantasy about going down on someones wife while they watch, my mouth on their breasts, their kitten and their skin. Plus, doesnt every little girl dream of one day being someone's? +Sigh+

I love when a man admits he loves to go down on his woman, or any woman he fancies really. I love it when they like to describe how they like to taste and lick and suck, nibble. I love when they theyre just enamoured with a very slick, dripping pussy.

I love when someone talks dirty in your ear, scalding your mind with obsenity, with lust, with a the fire that consumes them. Ive heard words from men that make me squirm, and swell and drip, my kitten feeling like its on fire. It is just like everyone says - "The mind is the body's largest sex organ...". Oh yeah.

I love to be kissed in strange places: the palms of my hands and feet, my eyelids, my shoulders, behind my ears, the tender flesh on the bottom of my breasts. Licking and biting and sucking and slapping all very well and good - but sometimes just light kisses can put you over the edge.

Finally, I love when you know youre about the orgasm, the tight little pain in your clit and you mind is just screaming "Fucking come already! Do it!", when at last that most consuming pain envelops you and lie there, taking it all in, its like coming out on the other side of war. If thats what war is like - sign me up for the Army.

So theres my little bit o' love. Hope you enjoyed it. All my love and kisses.


Wednesday, April 26, 2006

I'll Be Your Baby

Some people say that someones sexuality is dictated by their relationship with their parents and family - for women its especially true of their fathers and for boys its especially true with their mothers.

Humans, afterall, are just evolved and groomed animals - we just are so sentient we hold ourselves higher then we actually deserve.

Sam really liked me when he saw me that day, my long blond hair in pigtails, hanging down to my tummy on either side of my ears. The end of my hair was curled and little pink ribbons wrapped around the tops of the pigtails - my tank top matched the ribbons.

I had decided that I wanted to feel very girly and prissy - ribbons always do that to me. What no one knew was that my black panties had little pink ribbons on each side, adding even more to my feeling of sexiness.

Why is pink such an aphrodisiac to me? It always makes me want to rub the tip of my tongue against my finger tips just that I can feel the slickness that reminds me of fucking....anyway. Sam was in his fifties, Im too polite to ask age outright because of my oh-so-proper up-bringing, and especially because I'll never tell people my age either.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Yes, its really me - ribbons + all. :)

I loved the way he lived in his tossled blonde hair and wore a billowy white silk shirt and khaki pants, he looked like a vacationing photographer - even though he was a lawyer. My imagination is so good sometimes I even believe my own delusions, thats what happens with men sometimes and Ive found perhaps thats not my best quality. I knew him through my family and had met him numerous times at church ((meep!)) and with other friends at parties and sometimes our Masonic Balls.

I had always fantasized about him when he would dance with girls on the dance floor, imagining his hands on my hips and then underneath my billowing gown, my back pressed to the wall as he slid in and out of me. +Sigh+

When I called him, he seemed to find it odd though interesting, but I called with the knowledge that he felt something for me as well. The last time I had seen him he said calmly and assuredly like James Bond,

"You have such golden hair, is it soft? You look like there's a softness to you. Its a shame we aren't closer friends."

I thought of that comment when I was on the phone with him, my finger winding around a long strand of my hair. He agreed to meet me for lunch by the beach on Sunday when he was done with church.

When I saw his broad shoulders and the wind pressing his thin shirt against the muscled bits of his back, my legs quivered and my hand went straight to my hair, as it always does when I get slightly nervous or very turned on.

At that moment, it was definatly both.

When at last he turned and saw me, there was a bemused light in his eyes, me smiled and laughed to himself. I stood up from the little cafe table I was sitting at and when he hugged me, I could smell his skin and his clothing, a purity maybe that made my fingers tingle. From there, it was all laughter and joking, talking about his work and his newest divorcees, clawing at each other over money.

From across the small wrought iron table top, he reached for my hand and turned it over, my palm facing up and feeling the sunshine. As he spoke to me he rubbed the pad of his thumb against my palm, craddling my hand in his. My head cocked like a dreamy puppy and I bit my lip as I looked at him,

"Would you be my baby? Are you a good little girl, or a bad one? Do you think I would be a good Daddy to you?"

My mouth fell at once agape and my kitten shivered in my panties, my legs pressing tight together, putting pressure on my now wet pussy. I nodded slowly, in a very entranced way,

"I think you would be a very good Daddy & I would love to be your good little girl."

I licked my lips and looked into his eyes, his smile was so wide, his teeth so white and his eyes so bright with amusement. He called over the waitress and slapped some bills into her hand as he took mine and led me away from the outdoor cafe. He didnt speak a word as he led me to valet to get his car, and standing and waiting in the sun, he laid his arm across my back and gently caressed my bottom through my tight, white jeans.

I felt like God was touching me in that sunshine, with a commanding and strong hand - as much as that's was hot blasphemy.

He held the door to his hot little red coup open for me and held my hand as I settled down into the warm leather seat. As we drove away from the beach, he placed his hand on the inside of my thigh, squeezing his hand down between my crossed legs.

I always love the moment where you're in a vehicle, being transported to somewhere you know you're about to have so much fun; whether it be for sex or just any ordinary fun thing. I felt my heart start to pump under my pink bra, my throat feeling the tightness I always feel when I'm so excited that it becomes unbelievable to me.

When we reached his place, I looked by the sides of it toward the cliff that it lay on and over it to the ocean, the sound of the waves seemingly amplified by the height at which the house lay above the water. Sam took my hand and brought me into the house, his grip firm and comforting. When we were back in his bedroom, the large floor length windows exposing the room to the ocean out on all sides. I sat on the bed as he pulled open all the drapes, giving the room the full expanse of sun and sea.

I let my feet slip out of my white sandals and sat cross legged, leaning forward, my arms crossed. He turned to me and kissed my neck where I leant it toward him. I pulled my finger up into my mouth and slid it over my lips as I felt his tongue on my neck, hot and slick. When he saw my finger in my mouth, his eyes clicked to the fire that all men have in their minds,

"You are such a sexy little girl, do you want to be a very good girl?"

His eyes fell over me, the vulnerability increasing.

"Oh yes, Daddy, very much, what can I do to make you happy?"

I came up on my knees so I could be closer to his face, and also putting myself into a more "serving friendly" position.

He was jubilant that I had fallen into my role so quickly and easily, I needed no goading to be his little girl. His warm hands slid to my hips and they slid up my body as he pulled my shirt up and over my head, reavealing a pink silk bra, my cleavage defined and copious.

As he told me to stand, he slid my jeans down my legs and tossed them on the chair where he had thrown my top. I stood before him in my pigtails, bra and panties, my face flushed with utter excitement,

"Now be a good girl and get down on your knees in front of Daddy and kiss his cock."

I held onto his hand as I lowered myself onto the pillow he had placed before him. I put my fingers into the loops on his pants and kissed the bulge in his pants and rubbed my face over its warmth, it growing in size and hardness by the second. I could hear his soft breathing above me,

"Yes, good girl, rub your sweet little face over my cock, my good little girl"

I smiled as I was given praise, his hands now finding my pigtails and running his fingers through the length of my hair. Without words, I pulled the button open with my mouth and pulled down his pants and boxers, his cock springing out so near my face. I smiled as I felt and smelt its warmth, its musky scent.

I kissed the tip and covered the underside with small kisses, my tongue sliding slowly at the base of his cock, his balls touching my jawline. I giggled as I licked the swollen tip of his cock, now slick with a little drop of come,

"Such a giggly little girl, make Daddy happy and he'll give you hugs."

I put my hand on either side of his hips and placed the tip of his cock in my mouth, running my tongue over it in circles and swirls. I pushed it back into my mouth, taking as much as is possible with such a small mouth. I slid it in and out, sucking gently and then harder, my hand wound around the shaft of him and I pumped in time with my mouth. I let my teeth softly graze his shaft, making his body shake just the tiniest bit.

I shook my head softly from side to side, the tip of his cock touching the back of my throat, pulling with the pressure of my mouth. He gripped my head as he came with a force down my throat, the come bubbling deep in my mouth. I licked over his cock, his body filled with a soft trembling,

"Do you know what a happy Daddy you have? I just want to hold you close and kiss your little face..."

He sat on the side of the beckoned me to him, he told me to lie over his lap on my tummy. I did so and lay with my hands cradling my head, elbows on the counterpane. My legs kicked in the air as he slid his hand over my shoulder, my back, my bottom. I brought up my hips with he slid my panties down, his warm hands touching the back of my thighs as my pussy felt the cool air of the room, another small explosion of wetness dripping down near his thigh.

I felt the coarseness of the khaki beneath my tummy and upper thighs and was biting the hell out of my lips, tasting a small bit of blood. He rubbed his hands over my bottom, pinching at times, the heat of his hands driving me insane,

"You've made Daddy very happy, it would make me so happy to smack your little soft ass, would you like that?"

I murmured a little heated assent and I felt the first warm blow, the sound filling my ears as I squirmed on his lap. Between each smack he rubbed the heated cheeks very gently, and then another wave of soft pain rolled over me, the sound accentuating the feeling. I moaned and wiggled in his lap,

"Yes, move when I spank you, show me your joy. You make such sweet little noises."

I moaned as each soft spank came down on my bottom, the heat rising in my flesh, my kitten dripping on his thigh. My breathing was ragged and fast, my mouth wide open as I moaned and cried tearless sobs,

"Spread your legs for me, little baby. Oh yes, that's it, you're so warm and wet...such a juicy little girl."

I moaned at his words as his fingers slid over my kitten, the thick tips if his fingers sliding in as he spanked me, my moaning nearly becoming load cries. My hips rose to meet his slaps, my hips wiggling shamefully against his fingers, wanting to feel their full length inside of me.

I could hear the soft squishing sound of my wet pussy as he rubbed it, his fingers penetrating me, though so shallow. I whined when I felt the state of my pussy, the heat and wetness it gave. He finished with a blow so hard that I was pushed forward and my arms fell from under my face, I giggled at the pain and the fact that I was lying with my face pressed to the bed.

He slid the full length of two of his fingers deep into my pussy very quickly, ending my giggling instantaneously, a loud moan issueing from my mouth. He slowly finger-fucked me, my hips rising and falling with his moments. I could smell my own musky scent in the air and it only fueled my passion.

Though I felt I couldnt do anything he hadnt bade me, I felt this strong security, strange security. He slid his fingers out of me and rubbed the somewhat heated flesh of my bottom, making me moan,

"My baby, get up and come kiss me, wrap yourself around me."

I moved quickly, planting a knee on either side of his legs, my pussy spread slightly over his lap, threw my arms around his neck, my body pressed hard to his. I lightly kissed his lower lip, an exaggerated kissing sound issuing forth. He looked straight in my eyes, said "Fuck" very loudly and grabbed the back of my head, his lips all but assaulting me. I moaned as he kissed me so hard and deep, his teeth nipping my lips, my tongue. Our tongues seemed to battle each other, my moans and his small breaths making a riot in my mind,

"I'm going to lay back, I want to to sit on my face and be a good little girl - don't come until I tell you."

He laid back and I did as he bade me, my heart pounding with a force I couldnt imagine possible. With knees on either side of his head, I lowered my pussy over his mouth, his tongue reaching out to touch me as it came down over him. I moaned as his tongue slithered inside of me, swirling like a snake, hot and wet and making me moan. He grabbed my sore bottom and squeezed, making my back arch, as he tongued my clit.

I tried to suppress my orgasm, it felt like it was raging in my ears, screaming at me. My mind screamed out,

Dont come, dont come, dont come, dont come!

My mind hammered at me, increasing the intensity, my body squirmed and bucked over his face, my hands grasping wildly at my breasts through the thin bra. My body was trying to pull itself upwards, but his strong hands on my thighs held me down, tight to his twirling tongue and sucking mouth. He took my clit between his teeth and sucked lightly, a white hot sensatin shot up my spine, my head shot back.  

Dont come, dont come, dont come!

I cried out, I cried out his name, my throat feeling a tightness and a heat as I screamed. This was such divine torture, I felt tears springing to my ears, falling down my cheeks,

"Please let me let come! Please Daddy, please!", I all but sobbed the words.

He pushed me off of him, and onto my back on the bed, he ripped my bra off, my chest heaving and tears on my face, tears in my eyes. Placing himself between my legs, he ran his tongue all over my breasts, sucking so hard on my nipples, they felt like they were being snipped off. I moaned out and my hands clenched on his muscled shoulders as pain shot through every nerve in my body.

His tongue slid down my rib cage, my tummy, lingering on my belly button and the piercing there, his tongue dancing among the small suspended jewel in my flesh. He went down once again to my pussy, his tongue licking the outside lips, not near my clit at all! His deft fingers pried the lips apart and he lightly touched my clit with his tongue - my orgasm beat at me with iron fists all over my body, the heat overwhelming me,

"Come little baby, come on my lips..."

His tongue once again touched lightly on my clit and my body arched with such a force as my orgasm clattered over me, screaming at the top of all sound. My kitten exploaded in his mouth, my wetness coming out of me with a forceful spurt. Every tip of me seemed on fire, my head swam and my eyes were burned with the brightest of lights. Sam laughed softly, coming to kiss my lips, my eyes clenched still, as all my body was tense, he kissed and licked the tears from my eyes, he kissed the tender lids of my closed eyes,

"Such a beautiful little girl I have, such a delicious lovely baby."

My arms wound around him, his neck burrowing in my neck. But it wasnt over, I felt his rock hard cock through his pants, pushing at my thigh like a weapon. I reached down, my eyes still closed, my chest still heaving, and grabbed at the buttons of his fly, freeing his cock. He helped himself out of his pants, unbottoning his shirt but leaving it on, the fabric hanging softly over his body. I opened my eyes to see his rippling chest, the soft tufts of dark hair that adorned it, a soft trail of hair leading to his hard and harshly veined cock. Again I was amazed at it and wanted it in my mouth, but he had other plans,

"Take your cunt in between your fingers and spread it for Daddy, so he can slide his cock into you."

I cried out at his words, my body willing itself to him - my hand shot down to my pussy and I did as he commanded. I panted and felt his weight above me, his furry chest scratching at my skin, making a fire of it. The nails of my free hand dug deeply into his shoulder as he placed the tip of his cock against me, my fingers felt him too, felt the length of him against them as he slid his long length into me, pushing at the back of my pussy.

I screamed, feeling a white hot pain deep inside of me as he pushed the thickness of it fully home. My hand that had been at my pussy went my mouth, my teeth biting harshly at my fingers. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he lowered himself over me and his hands went under my shoulders, craddling me as he began thrusting, pushing all the way to the hilt, hurting me so divinely, a fire deep in my cunt.

As he fucked me, he spoke into my ear, at times biting at my neck, kissing me hard on my mouth, his tongue again fighting mine. His cock never stopped its assault, pressing me, impaling me, hurting me, making me more wet by the minute. His pulsing cock felt like a burning lance that meant to kill me, forcing its harsh length so deep inside of me, I could feel it like a penance from Heaven. In my ear he spoke, his hot breath against my skin amazing my already overloaded senses,

"Daddy needs to examine your little ass, would you like that my little girl?", His voice was silken against my ear, my skin.

"Oh yes please Daddy, do whatever you wish with me.", My gasping interrupted my words.

When he pulled out of me, it was agony, I cried with sadness when he left me, my pussy seemingly gaping and so drippingly wet. With soft touches of his hand to my hip, he bade me to roll over onto my knees. He softly pushed my shoulders down, the left side of my face flat to the counterpane, my bottom high in the air before him,

"Lovely little asshole my baby has, I wonder what it tastes like..."

I could feel his breath on the cheek of my bottom, feeling his wet, hot tongue against my little vulnerable hole was like another sweet torture. His tongue found its way down to my cunt again and lapped at its wetness, my small cries become pleas of longing, wiggling my bottom in his face.

He thrust his slick tongue into my asshole, licking away at me, tasting me. Using his hand he lubricated my little hole with juices from my pussy and touched the tip of his hot cock to it. He grasped my hips with both hands and pushed gently into me. I screamed as if I had been hit with bricks, the pain and combined pleasure of it was bringing me to the edge again, as I felt him stab the full length of his cock into my unassuming and tight asshole, when he had reached as far as I could take, he slowly began thrusting in and out of me.

I cried out his name as I felt his balls smacking against my soaked pussy. He reached his hand under me and began fondling my clit, his slick finger sliding over it as his cock slid in and out of my ass. Again, the orgasmic wave was threatening me, threatening to crash over me and blind me yet again as it seared my flesh. As if he could read my thoughts,

"No my sweet little fuck doll, don't come. Come only when Daddy says so."

I whimpered my sadness and moaned as he plunged his entire length into me, his fingers ever present over my swollen slit. My mouth moaning out all of the torrid sounds of my pleasure,

"Put your hands on the back of your neck little baby, try not to move at all."

I did so and immediatly realized that the self control needed heightened my need to burst forth and come. I cried out and once more tears found their way to my eyes, my hands grasped at each other behind my head, my teeth biting at the fabric of the counterpane as I tried to still myself. It seemed an eternity as I knelt there, my ass being plundered and my thundering clit pounding beneath his hands.

I could feel his cock starting to twitch inside of me,

"Come with me my baby, come with me my little one."

In a seeming fever, I came so hard as I felt his come shooting deep inside my ass, the heat of it overwhelming me and encouraging my orgasm even further. I screamed and panted, my body falling out of space, my legs giving from under me. Sam knelt still on the bed, seemingly unable to move, his body still, his cock dripping.

I turned over on my side and looked at him, his strong legs, his flushed face, so tan and beautifully creased, his eyes tightly closed. As if by magick, he looked at me, surveyed my curled body, my chest heaving, my pussy dripping. He smiled and began kissing every part of me, from my feet all the way up to my lips, his mouth lingering at my pointed nipples and flushed breasts,

"Oh my darling one, my sweet darling flower baby."

His tone was so quiet and calm, so sweet and secure. He gathered me up and lay me in his lap, my hip feeling his semi hard cock pressed to it. His fingers lightly traced my curves, my tummy, my thighs and even my lips. His fingers lingering there as he placed one finger in my mouth - I tasted myself on it and I sighed and closed my eyes, sucking blindly on his damp finger. I fell into a half sleep, all the time he held me, touched me, seemed to rock me. Tears sprung from my eyes and he kissed them away, calling me his precious one, his flower.

He picked me up and carried me to the bathroom, sitting me sleepily on the edge of a large oval bathtub. I listened, detached, to the tap and felt the steam, smelt the oils he poured into the flowing water. He helped me into the tub and picked up a sponge, soothing my skin with its warmth and wetness. I stared at my toes through the water, the dark red enamel that I had painted there so carefully.

He took my arm in his hands and massaged it as he washed it, doing the same to my legs, lingering on my feet, pressing with both thumbs upon the tender bones of them. I sighed and closed my eyes, amazed at my flushed contentedness.

When he had finished washing me, he lowered himself into the huge tub in front of me. I laid my back against the back of the tub, feeling his muscled back lean into my soft breasts, my tired tummy muscles. I was soothed by his weight against me as I wrapped my legs around him. I took up the same sponge he had used for me and dipped it into the water, letting the water run out and onto his shoulders, rubbing them with the oiled water.

He leant his head back on my left shoulder as I washed his chest, his arms, his throat. He spoke to me of how comfortable I made him and asked my age, I ignored the question and complimented him on his agility, his strength, his considerable talents and sexual command. I told him of how small and soothed he made me feel, my voice turning dreamy in his ear.

He helped me out of the tub and wrapped me in a fluffy white towel and went off to make tea and get a little something for us to eat, a towel wrapped about his waist. I walked slowly into the bedroom, my head full of clouds as I surveryed the counterpane, covered in many spots of wetness and rumpled wrinkles. I began to dress, wrapping myself in my bra and stopping when I reached my panties.

With a quick thought, I laid them out flat on the foot of the bed, in offering it would seem.

I finished dressing and ran a comb through my pigtails, still pristine even through all the physicality. I tightened the ribbons as I walked toward the sound of a screaming kettle and kitchen drawers opening and closing. When he saw me, he beamed, his face brightening and his eyes surveying me. We sat on the patio, drinking out of small tea cups and eating cut veggies and flat bread, watching the waves crash way below us and the sea gulls gliding around in the lowered sunlight.

Sam was a man of his church, of conviction and of the court room. He had a tender place within him that he had let me visit. I had lain with him, surrendered to him and he felt my full vulnerability. He was a man of his God and he made me feel like an Angel before him, sighing and crying for him. I saw Sam many other times aside from this, Many times he asked me to leave my family and come live with him. A girl of sixteen, I had obligations to my family and my education, I declined continuously.  

I decided that I would remain his part-time Angel and I kept it as always, a pleasure-filled dream in my mind that was filled by clouds.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

He Liked to Lick

It was amazing to me that men seemed so simple; you could give them a dart of the eye, a bite of the lip or a touch to the neck and they would stare at you even if elephants started to stampede through through the room.

He was forty-six, a musician and ex-child star. He was tall, broad shouldered, with big eyes and a very dignified look to him - very intimidating. I wanted to see his handsome face between my legs. My decisions sometimes seemed wild, unplanned and even infantile - at times I felt like a toddler that pointed to things in toy store, demanding they become hers. I dint want them, I just wanted to borrow them, and their various talents, if they were so lucky as to have aquired them.

Another reason why I was so in lust over older men was that they savored each moment, they wanted to give so much - theyre giving was somewhat of a con, for when they gave they took. I loved the prominent jaws and lines of a man's face, somewhat worn and weary but always sexy and powerful. It seems strange, but I loved to feel their power, as much as all of my intimate fondlings with older men were about my power.

So his name was Dana, he was divorced and pining over the loss of his wife. She had cheated on him and taken their infant son with her across the country to live with the new man. I felt bad for him, I pitied him and listened to him. He thought I was twenty-five. I was sixteen. He told me he loved my long, golden hair and he commented on how bright my eyes were, alive, he said.

The thing about all of these encounters over the 3 years that I pursued older men, I never confirmed nor denied my age. Either they knew and didn't care or it turned them on, or they truly believed me to be older than my birth certificate would read. The latter could be a definite possibility, no one can ever guess my real age when I meet them.

To return, before I walked over to him, he was looking at me. He studied me actually, thats a much better word. I sat in the coffee shop, reading about embalming (cheerful, right?) and taking notes for a report, most likely he thought me a studious college student. I was doing things that would seem natural to any man, biting the back end of my pen, brushing my waist length hair over my shoulders, biting my lip and brushing my fingers along the side of my neck as I read. I looked up at him and into his eyes, perhaps he didn't know I can always feel a man's eyes burning scars into my flesh...most don't. I smiled and lowered my eyes sheepishly, surveying his look, his body language.

He tapped away at a slim laptop, its silver glinting in the late afternoon sun that poured through the cafe's floor length windows. The eye games lasted about fifteen minutes, I get bored with them, I like action and though acting is one of my gifts in life, I like to really live it. I picked up my coffee cup and passed him on the way to the refill carafes, ignoring him, but feeling him turn to see me walk. As I refilled the cup, I turned to look at him and said hi. Imediatly I turned back round and busied myself with cream and sugar, carefully replacing the lid as he fumbled a small hello.

I came over to his small bar table and surveyed the pictures of several snowy mountains and I asked him of his seeming like for mountains. After I while I noted that my ankles were bothering me from standing and I needed to get back to studying, his little happiness dropped and he nodded. As a slowly walked back, he asked if he might join me at my table and that studying mountains were getting to him.

Well perhaps snowy mountains...

We sat together for a few hours, that's when I learned of his marital deficit and his past career alongside the tv screen cowboys of the 50's and 60's. He would talk and I was just thinking, Oh my god, cease the talk and get on your knees under the table. I can always pick out an oral man, they have this passion I can see, the love to supplicate themselves before a woman, between her thighs.

I love to surprise men by being extremely and inappropriately forward - finding a key moment to slip in a sexual comment to let them know where my mind is lingering. Ive never found it to be pushed away, rather, they feed it so it can grow. As he commented on animals that he encountered in Peru, I said

You know, there are animals outside of Peru, like for instance, right across the table from you.

He seemed surprised and automatically the sex light went on in his mind as I put my finger tip in my mouth, to finish off the eloquence of my statement. After more chatter, I realized the sun was starting to fall beneath the high rise buildings around the coffee shop. With much pageantry I fussed with my mobile and told of how it seemed to be getting late and that I should probably call a cab. His face kind of sagged for a moment and then he said what I had hoped to egg on -

Well maybe, I could give you a drop at home...really no big inconvenience.

I smiled and nodded and gathered up my things into my messenger bag and tossed my coffee cup in the nearest bin. Now, if you're a reasonable human being your little mind is probably screaming "No! Don't get in the car with him! Call the police!". Well, gentile soul, Ive always had this ineffable confidence that I am bullet proof, total untouchable my evil. Last year, my bullet-proofness wore off and I hit a bit of reality...but for the story Im telling you, my confidence never wavered. I thought nothing of going with him, wherever. Once he started up the car he asked me which direction he ought to go

Anywhere you want to go, I dont need to be home for ages. Mind some company?

I could practically feel the heat falling away from him, he asked if I was sure, I replied,

Of course, love. Anything you say.

My place is fine, maybe we could just sit out back or something. He kind of tumbled over his words.

Yes, of course, sit out back, I thought. He played the CD he had in disc tray, a sampling of his electronic music beats, very metallic and meandering, not such music to my ears, but he seemed to really love it. In fact, he seemed very pleased with himself over the music, over his car, over himself in general, I realized. Oh no, one of those. But no need to worry, it'll be everything you want and more.

Now, from what Ive told you of this man, which is truly limited considering the depth of his person - youll probably think him to be a sad, weak and sort of sheepish man, he was not. Definately not. He had a huge ego, and his confidence burned through his flesh. He seemed to me a man with conviction and soul, anger and fidelity. When we were in his car, he seemed to command it, turning tightly and going quite fast. He asked me if I was a girly-girl or a strong woman,

Nothing scares me or shocks me. I smiled, crossed my legs and looked at him.

Ahead of us, I could see ragged cliff-like rocks that exist in California, the road started to snake through these cliffs and as we hit them, he accelerated. He guided the vehicle at break-neak speeds and with an agility that seems far away for cars. He passed drivers, passing to the left lane of the two lane, two way road...into seeming head on traffic and avoided other cars while passing them on his right. Finally he was in front of them all and was speeding like hell was behind us, all the while making the turns. My pulse heightened and my puss flinched, dampening my panties and making me bite my lips. I hadn't even so much as wiggled in my seat, my hands lay over my knees and my legs remained still daintily crossed.

Oh, so you arent at all...really astonishing. You're a real woman...

His tone was true and he really was shocked, he hadn't been able to ruffle me. Perhaps I had passed a test of some type? Had I shown myself worthy? I smiled and looked out the window to the ever lowering sun and realized he really was a strong man, a sad man, but a strong one.

We turned into a nice, suburban house not far from the downtown coffee shop where we had met. His big brown dog met us at the front door and I laid my bag very near the door. He asked me into the kitchen and set down a plate with a piece of chocolate cake and a cup of tea in front of me and helped himself to a plate of his own as we sat at the bar in his kitchen. I shrugged off the zip-front hoodie I had on, to reaveal a black wife-beater-esque tank top and undoubtedly more breast. His eyes followed the lines of my shoulders all the way to my cleavage as he ate bites of cake. There were no words, only the ticking of the clock and the smell of chocolate icing. My puss and her wetness was pushing me to act...

Im not one really for cake, but I love chocolate. Maybe you could kiss me so I could taste it.

I hardly had time to strategically bite my lip when he ceased me off the bar stool and kissed me hard and deep on the lips. The feel of his hot and silky tongue on my lips and my tongue made me think of my puss and how much she ached. The pressure of his hands on the back of my neck felt so strong and good.

He attempted to kiss me and lead me to his bedroom, which resulted in me tripping backwards and nearly falling over a step that led up out of the kitchen. Though, I was in no danger, his arms were like steel-rebar around me as he kissed/led me. When finally we reached the bed, he grabbed my hips and sat me on the side of the bed and I kicked off my shoes as he totally dropped down to his tight, black briefs. I started to undo my jeans, but he chimed in,

No, don't. I'll do it, just lay down. He had a sexy determined look on his face, all sex and primal need. So, he was a ful service guy...very hot.

I pulled myself to the center of the bed and he pulled down my jeans and panties in one fal swoop. He took my left leg and pinned it to the bed and brought himself up between my legs, surveying my kitten in all it's glistening glory, spread out in the light from the bedside lamp and the dying sun outside. It seemed he couldnt contain himself,

Oh my god, you are perfect. Gorgeous. Wow....

He seemed totally enraptured with my puss, he commented on it's pinkness, the small swollen lips, my tiny exposed clit. Im one for momentary excitement and my pussy follows my every emotion, from the moment I began my eye games with him, my pussy started to get wet. By the time we reached the bed and my pants had gone on vacation, I was dripping. And wow, how he noticed. It was like he was writing a poem to my pussy, hoping to gain entrance after successfully wooing her. I really think she loved it, I know I did.

He began kissing my inner thighs and the small bit of my tummy which wasnt covered by my tank top, dragging his tongue nearer to my kitten. Until finally, he hit home, his tongue and lips snaking wild heat over my wetness. I moaned and brought my fingers to my mouth and bit down, my back arching and my hair splayed all over the counterpane.

He gathered my ass in both hands and lifted my hips up to his mouth off the bed, swishing his mouth back and forth, his teeth lightly grazing the inner lips of my pussy. I came as he dragged the flat of his tongue against my clit, his nose pressed to the outer lips of puss. He moaned with me as I came hard and it made me all the more heated and I felt like all my body was emploading. He looked into my eyes as he lapped up all my come from my sensitive pussy,

Oh my god, you taste so sweet. You came so much, wow...

He was utterly entranced. I let him just continue licking away at puss, his tongue hitting again and again on the hot spot of my tired little clit, making a small whimper issue from my mouth and my back to arch. Like only 7% of all the female population, I have been gifted with the ability to actually come, and issue forth lubrication when I orgasm. He seemed to wallow in this seeming gift and he commented,

You just let go, you came so hard. I would have licked at you for hours...I will if you want me to.

He seemed like a puppy dog, oh so ready to serve. Well I certainly pegged him well as an oral-man. His imploring eyes locked on mine as he again went down on me, the heat again hitting me. I let my head fall back as I leaned up on my hands, feeling all the moment within me. Taking his head in my hands and lifting his face to mine I said,

Don't you want something? Do you want to fuck me? Mmm, please fuck me.

Again I bit my lip for dramatic flair and added a girlie lilt, like a little girl begging for candy.

With no hesitation, he ripped off my top over my head and undid the small clip between my breasts to release them to the atmosphere and plunged his head between them, his hands caressing the sides of my breasts as he kissed and licked at my cleavage, pressing their full size on either side of his face. I loved how he moaned as he partook in my feminine gifts, savoring everything I could give him. He pushed me hard against the bed and towered over me between my legs on his knees and released his "gift". My mouth fell open and then I bit my lip with joy.

People say size doesn't matter? It may not matter, but it sure can make a girl severely orgasmic on sight and contact. He tossed his briefs to the pile of other vacationing clothing and pulled hard on my hips to bring me to him. He took my legs and wrapped them around his waist and at the same moment pinianed me with his masterly dick. I let out a scream and my back arched deeply with surprise and ecstasy and he began to thrust away, wrapping his hands under my hips and pulling every ounce of strength and putting it into the momentous fucking of me.

My hands wandered to my breasts and I squeezed hard as I moaned and screamed to feel his stiff self rub against the wet heat within me. I felt completly filled and joyous, I cried out and moved my body in time with his, making him moan with me.

When he finally came after so long of this blissful movement, I could feel his cock erupt inside of me, the strength of it overwhelming me as he placed his thumb upon my clit that I nearly instantaneously came with him. With a commanding hand, he gathered me up and lay me before him as he lay behind me, cupping my ass in his one hand and pressing his muscled chest against my hot back. His huge arms wound around me as I panted and cooed, his breathing very near my ear, so steady and calm already. I felt like a totally overused pony, being rubbed down after a long gallop, my body sore and hot, damp and tired.

As is my custom, after a few moments of this post-coital contact, I sat up and went off in search of a bathroom. I sat on the sink and washed my sensitive clit, feeling his come and mine slide out of me, knowing it would be doing so until at least tomorrow. I laughed as slid my hand over my clit and tired lips and rinsed myself with cool water. I washed my face and drank some water from the tap, fully refreshed and full of jubilation from the sound fucking I had happened upon.

Though he asked me for my number, and called me uncountable times, I never saw Dana again. This time at least, and for him, I was a one trick pony.


Monday, April 24, 2006

New Flesh

I had imagined as a young girl, that all the world was obsessed with love and shadow and secrets made in glances between two people. 

Now that I'm what the Western World calls an "adult" my longing to be the young girl in an older man's embrace has not ended, but saddened me. I made it my goal when I was just entering adolescence (in my case, around eleven) that I wanted to be Lolita, I wanted the power and allure granted to a young girl who was hungered for by older men. All the men I could see were a possibility and a potential adventure. I wanted to see how much weakness could be pulled from one man, how much I could make them feel - and how much they could make me feel.

Now let me start by saying that I was far from a slut, or at least in my mind. My sexual awakening began early, as it does in girls who "flower" very early, for me they went hand in hand. I found something in the darkness of my bedroom, in the curves of my own body that I wanted someone to touch, maybe even love. For me, sex wasnt just a physical act, but it wasn't a touching emotional one either - it gave me power, it gave me a tightening feeling in my mind....and the grand word I loved - allure.

I loved how these men would see me, how they adored and almost worshipped me. The look in their eyes when they would graze my skin, the delight and amazement at my tight skin and smooth curves. I loved when they would lick or kiss me, the things they would say, the care with which they touched, teased and caressed me. Some seemed almost astonished that they could lay hands, lips and eyes upon every part of me...for them it was amazing. I loved the wonder and need in their eyes, I could feel the heat of it in their touch, the fervor with which they moved and pulsed.

It was a game, I was the was simple. They had to say the right things, want the right things. Their words had to prove to make something within my chest or legs tingle as if electric wires were passing current in my flesh. I would see a man, I would see something in his eyes and make a split second decision "You will have me, I will have you." It was in this way that I found myself in the arms, under the bodies and between the legs of fathers, husbands, business men, musicians and family friends.

It gave me a high to know that someone wanted me, it gave me a surge to see the look in their face that made them realize that, yes, I did want them too. Yes, please look at me. Yes, please desire me....want me. That's what it was all about.

Now reading this, perhaps you have the feeling that I was a very lost little girl, a very lonely young lady. This may be partly true - but there were many reasons and I never found myself hurt, sad or disgusted with myself for having done the things I did. My family is an old one, a rich one and a social one. I grew up among parties, champagne, men wearing business suits talking to long legged women who wore sparkling cocktail dresses. I wanted to be part of this, I was like the little shadow that slipped past everyone -I wanted my own place in the throng of it all.

I wanted to know myself as something more than someones daughter, more than someone's star pupil or big sister...I wanted to be this eye catching femme fatale.