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
Join the Sugasm

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!


Friday, August 04, 2006

Photo Quilt

I love photography and I love photo manipulation....but I also love FREE webtools! Yay! So when I found Fintan's Market West Website I was super excited and ever so willing to use "his bits" ((ooh, naughty!)) to enhance what I have. He's an English web developer and programmer and I love using his tools from the Flickr Bits Get Set code marker to his Technorati Blog Tagger. Yay Fintan!


Thursday, August 03, 2006

The Hymn of the Pearls

I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not exactly a "normal" person and this realization also intrudes upon my sexual desires and adds to my deviancy. I'm fine with it, I'm coping....and I love it.

Gadget has made it clear ((by words and action)) that he's a very sexually hungry and completely open man, especially when it comes to me. This suits me fine, just fine indeed.

Who said the "family jewels" aren't toys?

Last night we're lying in bed and my mind is fluttering to that very sleepy place where sex fantasy and deep sleep converge to make me a very tired and dreamy little girl. He's lying next to me in my big bed, hidden beneath the covers and speaking to me on sex and love and strippers. Yes, strippers. My little mind is somewhat offended because he wants to take his long time friend to a club for a lap dance for his birthday this week and I don't know how I want to deal with it. Not that I really feel it's a huge deal, but it has slipped to my mind as he begins to break it down for me.

Its true, I've been to strip clubs and had fun, even a lap dance where a girl grabbed my tits and licked my neck, her hot, breathy voice near the shell of my ear,

I'd love to wrestle you onto the floor and lick your pussy until you cry.

And these were the pre-18 days too. But I'm sort of stuck in this quandry, I love Gadget and though not jealous, being a highly bred and raised woman, I feel like I'm not needed or respected if my boyfriend wants to go to a club and have a "Southern Lapdance" with a bunch of his buddies. Wouldn't he much rather have me in his arms than a dirty stripper?

Fortunately for you though, this post is not about strippers nor my girlfriend-ish issues. This post is about Pearls and their many lovely and beautifully kinky usages.

I have a kinky girl that lives inside my libido who likes to take control and whips out in a little bit of rebellion and dirty fun most days. Am I to be blamed? No of course not, but then again who wouldn't love to be under the heel of a uber-feminine teenage deviant? ::smiles::

It's true, I do have a bit of an pearl fetish/oral fixation.

To return to the moment: the moon is outside my window and my sleepy mind is fuzzy as I think about strippers and lap dances and how I must be better than a skanky exotic dancer. But how can I show him? How can I prove my worth not only as a good, loving girlfriend but as a versatile sexual being with so much to give? My mind slithers over possibilities in my sexually creative head, my voice is soft, sweet, yet full of need and unbridled interest,

Babe, I'm into cock-bondage. Don't worry, its not the crazy kind, just the fun kind and I promise you'll like it.

Without waiting for a response, I reach behind his head to my jewelry rack that hangs on the wall of my currently being-re-decorated room and take my 35 inch strand of antique natural pearls. His waiting cock is standing forth like a monument to the night and to all his little sex driven mind can conceive. Delicately and with small, soft hands, I wrap the pearls around his cock, starting at the bottom of his thick shaft and twining up, completely encasing his hard flesh in pearls. When at last the pearls were in place, I took both ends and pulled gently, flicking the head of his cock with my tongue.

His reaction was palpable as his hand covered his mouth, his breath coming harsh and thick, fast. His cock too was reacting, pulsing and swelling against the pearls. With each surge of his flesh, the pearls ripples into it exciting him even further. As I sucked and licked away at his sensitive head, he became like stone inside my mouth, harder and thicker than he's ever been before, the head showing red and swollen in the blue tinted light of the dappled moonlight.

His breath was coming harsh and his comments rippled forth like curses to God as his body tensed and he writhed on the bed,

Oh baby, this is the best sensation I've ever felt in my entire life, I swear. Oh my god. It just feels so awesome.

I smiled gently with satisfaction as my mouth luxuriated over his cock, his body, his mouth and his pulsing cock giving me feedback that only increased my need to make him come hard and finalize his grand sensation.

Without warning I pulled the end of the pearl strand up and over his cock and away, the pearls rubbing him as the streamed upwards, massaging his already maniacally aroused cock. He moaned and his body tensed the nth degree, his words only grunts and a long streaming moan issuing from his mouth followed by a laugh of sheer pleasure and amazement.

His moan was even deeper as I slid his whole length into my mouth, letting the tip of him touch the back of my throat before sucking upwards. After a few moments and his fingertips sliding at the base of his engorged cock, his hips bucked before he came with a force that nearly drowned me, his come hitting the inside of my throat and causing me to hold back gagging as he came stronger than he ever has.

He was paralyzed with his ecstasy as I got up to sip at some water and stretch my crumpled legs. When I lay back down on the bed, he was singing my praises with the comforter pulled up over his face, his body still tense and enraptured. I smiled softly and with sleepiness as I crawled into bed with him, his warm arms falling to me and enroving me in his circle of warmth. It was a great ending to a stressful, horrible and otherwise senselessly draining day.

To me, any object can be a sex object; people, accessories, clothing. Your imagination has no bounds when it comes to its creative power and sense of sensation and drive. Even vintage pearls from the 1930's can have some use in this modern day and age, and powerful use at that.